Brown trout

The title of this blog entry may not get us many hits for Hearts related content, but I really couldn't think of anything more appropriate following the events of the weekend. So yes, we went to Easter Road and we won. How tremendous was that? The atmosphere in the Hearts end was just brilliant and having now watched the highlights again on the telly (about 4 zillion times), it was great to hear the Jambos outsinging the Hibbies yet again.

It's easy to be magnanimous when you've just beaten your local rivals in a cup match, and being entirely honest about it I'd have to agree that Fletcher's red card probably was a tad on the unfortunate side, but I have little sympathy for them as a group of supporters at the moment. Yes, they're having a tough time and it's clear to anyone that Mixu just isn't up to the job, but the empty seats at Easter Road on Sunday belied an attitude which deserves nothing other than criticism. They had their team beaten before a ball had even been kicked. How can their team go out on to that pitch with anything approximating self-belief when the fans can't muster up enough faith to get themselves to the game in the first place?

I'd feel sorry for them if it wasn't so wickedly satisfying to take delight in their misfortune. Again. So, it's 108 in a row. They haven't won the big cup since 1902 you know....

But on to Mixu Paatelainen. If he was anyone other than the manager of Hibernian I might actually feel slightly sorry for him. Or at least, I would have done until he saw fit to publicly snipe at our captain. There's no doubt that with the benefit of numerous replays, it's possible to see why the red card might have been considered a harsh call, but similarly, any sensible human being with basic football knowledge can understand why it was given in the first place. For all that Fletcher isn't known as a dirty player, Christophe Berra certainly isn't known for his cheatery either and what Mixu fails to understand is that the chain of events was caused by stupidity on Fletcher's part and not anything more sinister than that. If he wants to take a gamble like that during an important derby, then the consequences of his actions rest with Steven Fletcher and nobody else. A tackle doesn't have to break a leg before it can be considered reckless, and muttering viciously about Berra because he had the audacity to take evasive action won't change the fact that Fletcher screwed up. It's that simple.

The Scotsman reported this morning that Hibs are considering an appeal and forgive me for being a cynic, but I'm not convinced by this move and I seriously doubt whether any of the Hibs fans will be either. Mixu may well be the only man on the planet (other than Pat Nevin) who thinks that they have any grounds for such an appeal and considering that the ref has already reviewed his decision and declared that he was satisfied with the actions he took, who in their right mind would really think they stand a chance of getting anywhere? His coat is on the shoogliest of pegs and desperate attempts to appease the less cerebral of supporters won't change that.

What it will do, however, is make Mixu look like an even bigger fool than he already does.

His lack of intelligence can perhaps be excused as a lack of managerial experience, but there's no way to disguise a lack of class. Mixu's petulant exit from the dugout without pausing to shake hands with Csaba Laszlo on Sunday was every bit as revealing as the 'get it up ye' gesture made by Riordan towards the Hearts fans. Out-witted, out-played, out-thought and most definitely out of their depth.

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This is Tynecastle

A month is a long time in the life of a Hearts supporter but November is one I'd gladly repeat. It's a strange feeling this hopeful optimism thing, and it had been missing for far too long. There have been ups and downs, but for once, it's a joy to be able to look back on a whole 4 weeks without shuddering in dismay or having rueful regrets over missed chances and opportunities or disasters of Lithuanian origin. So while I might live to regret unleashing this positivity upon a blog which will still be here to ponder over should it all go belly up in weeks to come, I'm going to do it anyway. I want to remember this feeling.

5 wins on the trot - what about that? We know that the media had us written off earlier in the season but I'd be surprised if there were even many amongst the Gorgie faithful who truly believed that this team could take us anywhere of note. Yet they have, and if third position is the best we can do this season it'll be a whole three places higher than my original hopes for 2008-09. There's still a long way to go before we'll know if European nights are coming to Tynecastle but simply being in a position to consider it a real possibility is something that would have generated laughter only 3 months ago.

That fragmented squad, so sparse in quality and consistency hasn't just been rejuvenated under Csaba Laszlo, it has been altered beyond recognition. Bringing on the more talented players such as Berra and Driver is an achievement, but it's not really half as impressive as the incredible change in Nade, the improvements that we have witnessed in Wallace, Zaliukas or Jonsson or the renaissance of both Karipidis and Aguiar. Csaba isn't solely responsible for their individual talents, but he is certainly due some credit for taking this mish mash squad of under-confident players and slotting them together in such a way that they are beginning to look remarkably like a good team. I might sound like I'm grateful now, but I'll really be waxing lyrical if he also manages to sort out Kingston's attitude, Stewart's temper and Miko's inconsistencies....

I don't want to ruin the mood of this blog entry so I'm not going to give screen time to the difficulties we encountered in some of these narrow wins. One goal more than your opponent is all that you need, and for as long as it brings us 3 points, I won't have any complaints about the manner of our victories. More importantly, our most recent win was jam packed full of enough spirit, skill, aggression, determination and intelligence to justify a very long list of superlatives and it was this display which brings me on to the whole point of this entry - Tynecastle.

God I love that stadium. I can confidently state that there is no place on this earth that I would rather have been than that rickety old stand on Saturday afternoon at 14:15 (+ remarkably generous additional time). When the first goal went in the place rocked, when Larry poked home the second it erupted, and when the final whistle went, Tynecastle roared so loudly they probably heard us in Leith. It took the breath away. After months of lacklustre performances from both the team and the support, it was a special moment and one which I hope goes some way to reminding these players just how incredibly proud they should be to wear that strip. If there was a man out there in maroon who didn't feel on top of the world after experiencing that, I don't care who he is, he's not cut out for Heart of Midlothian.

I could go back through this whole entry and temper the optimism with some stark facts and less inspiring realities, but I'm not going to. Even if things aren't quite so much fun in the coming weeks, for now I'm just happy to enjoy this feeling. Today, being a Jambo is great.

www.heartsfcnews.com

No flair please - we're Jambos

I'm almost scared to say it. What if the simple act of typing the words is enough to put you straight into the bad books of the wickedly fickle gods of football? Imaginary entities they may well be, but given the turnaround in fortunes for Hearts of late, the whims of ancient spirits may well be one of the more believable explanations for the current run of results...

October wasn't really the most enjoyable of months for the average Jambo and while two draws and one loss may seem reasonable enough for a club which finished in the lower echelons of the SPL last season, it was the complete and utter lack of anything approximating competence in the art of football which had the fans rushing to the exits. Please don't misunderstand me, it's not as if many of us really believed that the SPL's 3rd highest paid squad was actually the third most talented, but when the worst of the deadwood was chopped away around the time of Csaba's arrival in Gorgie this summer, perhaps we thought we'd already seen the players at their very worst. We were effectively left with a patchwork quilt of a squad comprising a handful of talented types such as Kingston, Berra or Driver, and the remaining maroon jerseys were filled with players who might not be huge stars but seemed adequate for the task in hand. At the start of the season, they put in some decent workhorse-esque performances and we had a few pleasing results. Things were looking slightly rosier in the Gorgie garden.

But then we went to Tannadice on 27th September and all of a sudden, our modestly competent workhorses were found to be lame, Andy Driver picked up an injury, Larry Kingston started preparing for winter hibernation and poor old Berra was left to try and shore up a team who seemed to be about as 'together' as quicksand in a string vest. The result wasn't just the crap football on show, it was an attitude which manifested itself much more deeply in the players and later, also in the fans. The players were slow, disjointed, apathetic, spiritless and uncoordinated; and the fans were all of these things plus a few extra ailments in the form of frustration, anger, fear and despair.

Dundee Utd humped us 3-0 that day and a week later, Kilmarnock compounded our misery by beating us 2-1. The fans were not feeling supremely confident as the derby approached and the nervous anxiety was only slightly alleviated by the news that Hibs form had also started to slip. So derby day arrived and to cut a long story short, both sides put in typically frenzied derby-esque performances which might not have been the most skilful displays of football but inspired the Jambos to believe that the slump in form may have been a temporary glitch and that better days were on the horizon. But then we made extremely hard work of holding a struggling Aberdeen to a draw before promptly falling apart again a week later and losing to Celtic in a game that might well have ended up with a more embarassing score than 2-0 had their players not been suffering from Champions League lethargy.

So amidst rumours that the club was on the verge of hurtling head first into the administration abyss (again), the Jambos were busy contemplating what appeared to be a very long season ahead. But then it all became a little bit weird and in only 7 days, Hearts have picked up 12 points from 3 wins on the trot. Admittedly, these fixtures all featured teams languishing in the lower half of the SPL and could well have relied partly upon occasional bits of luck but there 's no doubting that a remarkable and pleasant change has occurred. The players might not have morphed overnight into budding Ronaldos or Messi's, but there's no mistaking the emergence of a new, gritty, tenacious and motivated approach. They seem stronger and more robust, and I don't know if the jaffa cake technique is back in use but they're definitely looking like they have bags more energy than they did last month.

This team have managed to dig out three 1-0 wins in the space of only 7 days and while the football itself might still be a bit crap, there's a real sense of dogged determination amongst the players which, if nutured, may well end up being the reason behind us doing not too badly at all this season. Admittedly, the 10 non-OF teams are fairly closely packed together on the current league board but with the exception of perhaps Dundee United, none of them look like teams we shouldn't be able to handle comfortably. As Csaba so eloquently explained:
"You cannot win ugly or pretty, you can win and if you win, you are always beautiful."

Wise words indeed and while the longevity of this change in attitude remains to be seen, I would certainly be more than happy to sacrifice pretty football if it means picking up 3 points on a regular basis. We're currently working with a very young team and if we happen to land that lucrative European spot, we can then maybe give more attention to the aesthetics of the football that they're churning out, but in the meantime I'm happy to stick with ugly. Jambos don't do flair anyway.