That Cup Parade in Full

I enjoy living in Leith, particularly on cup final day. All week I've been reading about Hibernian FC's plan for tomorrow's, ahem, victory parade following today's Scottish Cup Final. Doing my bit for public service, here's the amended itinerary:

18.00 Bus leaves Edinburgh city chambers

18.05  Bus stops at Tescos to allow Leigh Griffiths to do his weekly shop

18.10 Bus arrives in Gorgie Road, where passengers ask local Hearts supporters what it feels like to see their team win the Scottish Cup.

18.20 Bus arrives back at a deserted city chambers.

19.02 Loud beeping noise as the open top bus reverses into the Lothian Buses garage.

As has been said annually since 1903 - better luck next year, chaps...

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Willie No Come Back Again?

‘It was rare to see so many youngsters playing in the first team together. As with most youngsters they could lack self-confidence and belief in themselves. What they needed was some old heads to lift them both on and off the park. They’re a talented bunch.’

Those are the words of a former Scotland internationalist who played for Hearts at the end of an illustrious, if controversial playing career. However, Willie Johnston wasn’t talking about the current crop of youngsters plying their trade at Tynecastle. In his excellent biography ‘Sent Off at Gunpoint’, Johnston was talking about the group of young players with dodgy 1980s hairstyles who were trying to break into the Hearts first team more than 30 years ago in 1982. One of the finest left wingers ever to play for Scotland, ’Bud’ Johnston was 35 years old when he was signed by then Hearts manager Alex Macdonald in September 1982. The likes of John Robertson, Gary Mackay, John Brough and Davie Bowman were the future of a club that was almost on its knees in 1981 before Wallace Mercer saved Edinburgh’s oldest and finest football club from oblivion. Three decades on and it seems the more things change the more they stay the same…

I wrote in a previous article about the sad demise of Scotland’s international team and how, in my view, things have been in a steady decline since the World Cup Finals in Argentina in 1978. Willie Johnston doesn’t need reminding he was sent home from those finals after admitting to taking a banned stimulant. The truth was he had taken anti hay fever medication which contained traces of the stimulant. He certainly didn’t take it to enhance his performance – Willie was one of the fastest players in the world and had no need to take any performance improving drug. As Scotland manager Ally MacLeod said at the time, perhaps unwisely, there was no way Johnston could have taken drugs on top of all the alcohol he had the night before. The bold Ally was jesting, of course, but the SFA viewed it as a serious matter and Johnston never played for Scotland again.

Johnston may have been nearing the end of a career which included two spells at Rangers – the first of which saw him score two goals to help the Ibrox side lift the European Cup Winners Cup in 1972 – West Bromwich Albion and Vancouver Whitecaps. However, Alex Macdonald saw Bud as the ideal man to bring his considerable experience to the likes of Robbo, Mackay and company, not only on the pitch but off it too.

Of course, controversy was a constant companion of Bud’s and I was at Celtic Park in March 1983 when the little winger was sent off during a Scottish Cup tie after an ‘altercation’ with Celtic’s Davie Provan. Johnston maintains to this day he barely touched the Celtic winger but the man in the hoops collapsed to the pitch and Bud was shown a red card. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing and perfectly understood Bud’s initial reaction when he refused to leave the pitch. To Hearts credit they backed their man and Wallace Mercer wrote to the SFA to protest at the treatment of the man from Cardenden. When two police officers at the game then came forward to say Willie had not struck Provan, the SFA knew there had been a miscarriage of justice and other than the automatic one match ban, there was no further punishment meted out to the veteran Hearts man.

Bud was someone who proved invaluable in the development of the younger players at Tynecastle at that time. John Robertson and Gary Mackay still regale a Bud story or three to this day and they readily acknowledge the contribution the great man made to their development. Yes, he could be a controversial character – but he was a character, something you don’t see much of in the game today.

As the curtain falls on a disappointing season for Hearts, it would be good to think today’s young Jambos could be influenced by someone who has done it all in the game, like the left winger who helped to nurture the Hearts youngsters of three decades ago.

Bud Johnston – Willie no come back again?!

 

Mike Smith

Twitter @Mike1874

  

A Presence on the Park

No one needs to tell Hearts supporters their team’s league results in recent weeks haven’t been the best. The club has put its faith in the youngsters from the youth academy and while none of the lads has let anyone down, I feel sure many Hearts supporters of my generation will hanker for the presence of a more experienced, combative type who isn’t afraid to make his presence felt. Or, to use football parlance from yesteryear, let his opponent know he’s there…

The more mature Hearts supporter will recall with more than a good deal of fondness Dave Mackay, Hearts legendary right half of the glorious side of the 1950s. Mackay was one of those players for whom the term ‘fifty-fifty ball’ didn’t apply - the maroon shirted powerhouse would invariably ensure he won the ball no matter his opponent. No one showed more determination or guts than the man they called The Real Mackay and he was the driving force of the Maroon Machine that dominated Scottish football nearly 60 years ago. Mackay left for Tottenham Hotspur in 1959 and many fans believed Hearts were never the same force without him.

I could hark on about other players from decades ago but, in fairness to our younger readers, I offer you the names of players from more recent times who had that ‘bite’ in a midfield or defensive role. In 1995 Hearts slumped to the foot of the Premier Division and manager Jim Jefferies didn’t need to be told where the problems lay. As well as recruiting French goalkeeper Gilles Rousset, Jefferies brought Italian defender Pasquale Bruno to Gorgie. The former Fiorentina player had a reputation as a hard man and even his appearance seemed enough to strike fear into opponents. He picked up more than his fair share of bookings and the odd red card here and there but this was due to his absolute determination to get to the ball before his opponent - by any method possible - rather than the popular misconception that he was a dirty player.

I wrote recently in this column about the fast approaching 15^th anniversary of Hearts winning the Scottish Cup in 1998. A key component of that successful side was was Stefano Salvatori. The Italian, who arrived at Tynecastle in the summer of 1996, was one of the first picks in Jim Jefferies’ side and his tenacity and fearless displays in the Hearts midfield had more than an unsettling effect on the opposition. Like his compatriot Bruno, you would bet your mortgage on Salvatori being the first to get to a 50-50 ball - only he had a slightly more subtle approach! Those of us who were at the Scottish Cup final at Celtic Park in 1998 will recall Salvatori’s dominating performance in the middle of the park that day, something opponents Rangers struggled with all afternoon.

Julien Brellier arrived at Tynecastle in July 2005 as manager George Burley set about building a Hearts team that would challenge the Old Firm for honours. The French midfielder was another who could hardly be described as a shrinking violet and his combative displays immediately yearned him to the Hearts support. The former Montpellier and Inter Milan player spent less than two years in Gorgie but in that time still managed to amass 23 yellow and two red cards. One of those yellow cards came in a UEFA Champions League qualifier in Athens when Brellier was booked for failing to cover an earring on the field of play  - something you could never imagine happening to Dave Mackay!

As recently as last year, Hearts had the spirited Ian Black in midfield. The  self-confessed Hearts fan played a vital part in the Maroons William Hill Scottish Cup triumph over Hibernian at Hampden and it was against the Hibees in a league match at Easter Road that Blackie famously pulled up his jersey to reveal a tee-shirt that read ‘I’ll Paint This Place Maroon’. Again, his combative style meant he would pick up three dozen yellow and three red cards in less than three years at Tynecastle but, in my view, Hearts midfield this season has missed his presence.

Of the seemingly endless supply of young talent breaking through the ranks at Tynecastle this season, perhaps there’s another Dave Mackay, Pasquale Bruno, Stefano Salvatori or Ian Black in the making. Someone who will make the opposition think ‘I’ll not mess with him’.

Much as we all love the skilful ‘tanner ba’ players every team needs a ‘midfield presence’!

 

Mike Smith
Twitter @Mike1874

A Different Kind of Embarrassment

So farewell then to World Cup 2014. Scotland began the qualifying campaign with our Head Coach uttering, almost Ally MacLeod like, that there was no reason why the Scots couldn’t win all of their games. Yet here we are, six games in, with no victories and just two points gleaned from miserable home draws against Serbia and Macedonia. And the bitter realisation that Scotland are not only rock bottom of Group A but cannot now qualify for the football extravaganza that will be held in Brazil next year. To add insult to already gaping injury, Scotland are the first European country to be eliminated – good God, even San Marino still have a mathematical chance of qualifying…

It is 35 years since Scotland last had a team many of us thought were one of the best in the world. The aforementioned Ally MacLeod was the national team manager who took Scotland to the World Cup Finals in Argentina and the bold Ally was telling anyone who would listen that the Scots ‘would return home with a medal’. Defeat from Peru, a humiliating draw with Iran and the sending home of winger Willie Johnston for taking a banned stimulant – in truth, Willie only took hay fever medication called Reactive which contained traces of the stimulant – meant the Scots were sent home with their tails between their collective legs. Not even a thrilling victory over the Netherlands – who would go on to reach the final itself – in the final group game could save face. Since 1978, Scotland’s football team has been in steady decline.

There has been the odd occasion or two when it seemed Scottish football was about to make its presence felt again. We came close to qualifying for Euro 2008 with the Scots famously defeating France home and away. Only a narrow defeat by Italy in the final qualification game prevented Scotland from gracing the European Championship finals. In 2003 Scotland defeated the Netherlands in a play-off for a place at the Euro 2004 finals. The trouble was it was only a 1-0 win in the first leg – and Scotland crumbled 6-0 in the return in Amsterdam…

1998 was the last time Scotland played in the World Cup Finals. A brave showing by Craig Brown’s men in the opening game against holders Brazil still resulted in defeat. This was followed by a draw against Norway, defeat from Morocco and the return tickets back home…

What I find particularly sad is that decades of, for the most part, abject failure has taken its toll. Apathy now seems to reign over the national side. It wasn’t until the afternoon of the game that I realised Scotland’s tie against Serbia was live on the ‘cooncil telly’ that night – and I had far better things to do than watch the BBC’s Rob McLean and co pick over the carcass that is Scotland’s latest attempt to reach the World Cup Finals…

Unlike some so-called experts – step forward Pat Nevin – I don’t have the answer to Scotland’s troubles. I am simply saddened that our country’s football team is as poor as it is. I hanker after the days when Scotland reached six World Cup Finals out of seven. Particularly the Willie Ormond era when Scotland were the only unbeaten country at the 1974 World Cup Finals and were within a Billy Bremner hairs breadth of beating Brazil. Even the Ally MacLeod era, pre Argentina debacle, when Scotland brushed aside European Champions Czechoslovakia and defeated England at Wembley with a style and swagger that shouted ‘Wha’s like us?’

Jock Stein took over from the much maligned MacLeod and while he steadied the ship and guided Scotland to the World Cup Finals in Spain in 1982 and for much of the successful qualifying campaign for Mexico 1986 – tragically, the big man died during Scotland’s draw in Wales which secured a play-off place – there still seemed to be something missing from the Scotland sides of that era.

Sadly, Scotland no longer produces players such as Jimmy Johnstone, Willie Johnston, Jim Baxter, Denis Law and Kenny Dalglish. The focus now seems to be about trying not to lose rather than displaying flamboyance and skill by putting opponents to the sword. I’m tried hearing the same old script trotted out – ‘we’re only a small country, we shouldn’t expect to produce hugely talented players blah, blah, blah…’ I know we live in a different era now and society has changed so much in the last five decades but when I see some of the players who play for Scotland now and compare them to the greats of yesteryear it makes me mourn for our national side. Scotland has failed to adapt to the changing world. When we qualified for the 1978 World Cup Finals we did so from a qualifying group of just three countries – Scotland, Czechoslovakia and Wales. Now it seems we just don’t have the players to cope with a two year qualifying campaign and our international ranking may well be sinking to the levels of the Faroe Islands, Malta and Cyprus before long. In fact, we may have already reached that level.

The fervour and hype that precipitated the 1978 World Cup Finals will never be repeated. Indeed, the SFA would never wish it repeated given the embarrassment that enveloped the national team at that time. There seems to me to have been a deliberate attempt to play down Scotland’s prospects ever since for fear we are exposed to the same humiliation again.

Sadly, as the likes of Serbia, Macedonia and Wales pass us by, it seems we no longer need to play down our prospects – our national team’s lack of ability has resulted in a downward spiral we may never escape from.

And the consequences are Scotland is now dying from a different kind of embarrassment…

 

Mike Smith

Twitter @Mike1874

The Long Trip to Hampden

Last Sunday, I was looking forward to my second cup final in ten months, having spent decades as a Hearts supporter enjoying only sporadic visits to the National Stadium. So it was that thousands of maroon clad supporters headed to Hampden Park with more expectation than hope given our Scottish Communities League Cup Final opponents were St. Mirren.
 

My partner, Marion, having felt she missed something by not attending the William Hill Scottish Cup Final demolition of Hibernian last year, accompanied me this time round and we set off from Leith on a cold, dank Sunday morning. However, much in the same way an attempt to rekindle the spark of an old flame can fizzle out like a damp squib, there was something about that day in the middle of March that invoked a feeling of ‘it’s not the same’ right from the off.

For a start the weather was, as we say in Scotland, driech. Dark grey clouds, a stiff breeze and intermittent rain did nothing to enhance the occasion as we set off on the 10.15 train to Glasgow. The fact there were engineering works on the main railway line between Scotland’s capital city and Scotland’s largest city meant the hundreds of Hearts fans aboard, along with the usual Sunday travellers, had to endure the ‘slow train to Glasgow’ which wasn’t going the usual route via Linlithgow and Falkirk, but another route which called at every village and town on the way. We knew we were in for a long day when we started yawning at the train’s second stop on the journey - Edinburgh Park. A trip that usually takes under an hour would take an hour and twenty minutes - although it seemed much longer.

Heavy rain greeted our arrival in Glasgow and, being a Sunday, most of the pubs weren’t open until 12.30 meaning we had time to kill. Of course, I was delighted to accompany Marion to the Buchanan Shopping Centre - I mean who wants to be supping pints of pre cup final ale when one could be looking at clothes in Next and Debenhams…?

We did manage a wee drink or two before heading to Hampden but the continual rain was literally a bit of a dampener as we headed to the East Stand and joined the thronging masses of the Hearts support behind the goal. The atmosphere as kick off approached was good but perhaps unsurprisingly, it lacked the intensity of the previous cup final against Hibernian. There was almost a feeling of ‘it’s only St. Mirren and it’s only the Scottish Communities League Cup’, the winning of which would be great to see but there would be no place in next season’s Europa League for doing so. I felt like making this point as the huge Hearts support bellowed out the European song and ‘We’re Going to Europe’ just before kick off.

When Ryan Stevenson put Hearts in front after just ten minutes I was leaping about like a ten year old rather than showing the dignity a 51 year old should be displaying, something the look on my partner’s face appeared to indicate. Most of the other 25,000 Hearts supporters did likewise and it rather shot to pieces the argument that this was a ‘wee cup’ and it didn’t really matter. Hearts in a cup final always matters.

Despite dominating the first half an hour and missing a couple of gilt edged chances, Hearts lost a goal eight minutes before half time and rather capitulated in the second half. Stevenson’s second goal eight minutes before the end of the game gave us hope, albeit of the false variety. We shuffled out of the National Stadium shortly afterwards and filed along patiently in the rain for the train at Mount Florida en route to Glasgow Queen Street via Central Station. The engineering works meant it was Queen Street Low Level, which was rather apt given the mood we were all in.

The train journey back to Auld Reekie was horrendous. Given it was full of Hearts supporters who didn’t feel like hanging around Glasgow longer than was necessary on a wet Sunday evening, the seats were all taken and so Marion and I had to stand all the way back to the capital. Well, not quite all the way - we did get a seat when the train left Edinburgh Park…

The day brought back bitter memories of the last time Hearts played St. Mirren at Hampden Park. The Maroons lost the Scottish Cup semi-final of 1987 to the Paisley Buddies and I had to endure a long, painful trek home to Aberdeen, where I was living at the time. That day, like 17 March 2013, was a depressing one.

Yet, at the end of it all, there was a feeling of a shared experience. The train on the way home was full of Hearts supporters but it was a quiet, if long journey. No one was in the mood to strike up a chorus of Glorious Hearts and the feeling was one of just wanting to get home.

Such is the life of a Hearts supporter. We have more highs and lows than a liftman’s nightmare. From the ecstatic scenes following the 5-1 thrashing of Hibernian last May to the crushing disappointment of losing to St. Mirren last week. I knew that, despite everything that has happened to our club this season, those same fans would go through the same experience all over again in the name of Heart of Midlothian FC.

Follow the Hearts and you can’t go wrong. Well, it does go wrong on occasion. But no matter what, we’ll support you ever more!

Twitter @Mike1874