Friday's Local Hero: �Sorry, I sound so rough it�s unbelievable,� croaks Gary Innes, his arid throat crackling with a joie de vivre that has barely ceased since Saturday.

Sorry, I sound so rough it's unbelievable,"

croaks Gary Innes, his arid throat crackling with a joie de vivre that has barely ceased since Saturday. It is 48 hours since one of shinty's most prominent protagonists lifted the Camanachd Cup with Fort William and he has been bathed in bonhomie and gilded in golden water over the past two days.

The 2-1 victory over Kingussie, who have made the sport their fiefdom over the past two decades, was the An Aird club's second consecutive triumph in a final of huge significance in the north of Scotland, a fact manifest in the raucous celebrations.

"The whole season revolves around the Camanachd Cup and we'll still be living off it for the next couple of weeks, going to the pub and getting drink bought for us," admits the wing-centre from Spean Bridge. "My voice is gone from partying like mad, but it's been brilliant. I got home at 5.30 onSunday morning then we all metat 11am for breakfast and went at it again. It was magic."

Days like that make all the effort worthwhile, particularly after a season that has been more difficult than most for the 27-year-old, whose prowess with a caman has often been sidelined in favour of his ability with another instrument. As a critically acclaimed accordionist, he has spent much of the season touring the world, compromising his role with Fort William.

The diversity of the two lifestyles, Innes admits, can be challenging but he refuses to seek sympathy for a situation that can often result in tense trips by car and boat to get to games in time after a gig. Instead, hecherishes his involvement in both, in some cases at the same time, such as appearing on the front cover of Runrig's latest album in his club colours.

"It's been a dream to play music and to win the Camanachd Cup, but to do both is greedy," he confesses. "Music puts the food on the table and pays the bills. I love shinty but, in 10 years' time, I'll be at the end of my career and then what's left?

The box takes me all over world, playing in front of massive audiences and I make good money out of it, so music is certainly the No.1."

Innes will, in his humble way, attribute his successes to fortune but such a stance neglects the time and effort he has invested. As a part-time performer in his youth, he took on a succession of "crappy jobs" to pay the bills and also signed up for the local fire brigade, a role he still fulfils whenever he is at home. Eventually, he opted to move to Glasgow to pursue his music career, working as a labourer and handing out 500 business cards around localpubs in search of gigs.

Six years later, he is a full-time musician with one album to his credit, another on the way, regular involvement in two bands, Box Club and The Darien Project, various other ensemble work, including a recent Edinburgh Castle gig with Runrig, and even an audition, upon request, for Britain's Got Talent. His skills may have been deemed inappropriate for such a spectacle but the musical cognoscenti are of adifferent opinion.

So, too, are the Jordanian Royal Family, who had him flown over from a US tour to perform a world peace concert with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra.

"It was truly bizarre," Innes recalls. "I got this mad email asking if could do this week-long gig in Jordan. So I went to LA and did all my stuff then they collected me in a stretch limo, flew me over and put me up in a five-star hotel - it was brilliant. The gig was for peace in the Middle East and there were 7000 people at it by invitation of the royal family. So I learned all this Arabic music, played with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra and was flown back to San Francisco to finish the tour. It was very good craic."

Invitations are not always imbued with such opulence, though. Every year, Innes travels to Kazakhstan to perform for oil companies and raise money for a local orphanage.

"It's an eye-opening experience," he says, the merriment suddenly extinguished. "These poor wee souls have nothing; the first year we were there they had no running water. They get taken away on a bus once a week and thrown into a communal shower an hour away and the toilets are in a stone building 100 yards away. It's -40 degrees there at times so imagine the wee souls having to get up in themiddle of the night to go.

"That's the difference with shinty. It's great fun but music can take me to these places and maybe allow me to make a difference to people's life as well as entertain."

Having achieved everything he can in the sport, and more than once - "that makes me sound like a clown" - it would be understandable if Innes eased back on his involvement.

He maintains motivation is no problem but, with demand for his musicianship increasing and a nascent media career to consider, the constraints on his time could become an issue.

"I've got no plans," he insists, laughing off suggestions he might betempted to emulate younger brother Christopher in becoming Scotland's Strongest Man. "I'll just plod along and see what happens. I'm a great believer in what's for you will not go by you, so I'll just grab any opportunity that comes along with both hands."

It is a maxim that has served him well so far.