Gorgie fans speak from their hearts

IT WAS a cracker of a match, as bright as the day was dismal. The outcome was in doubt until the end, both sets of fans remained vocal throughout, and the players showed a frenzied appetite for the fray.

It was Hearts against Celtic in the league at Tynecastle, for perhaps the last time ever. The same teams will meet in the Scottish Cup at the same venue early next month, but, with the remaining SPL encounter scheduled for Parkhead, and no certainty about the location of the post-split top-six matches, that could have been it. The same goes for Hearts-Hibs. The next game between the Edinburgh rivals is at Easter Road, and for there to be a fourth meeting this season Bobby Williamson’s side will have to pick up their form pretty quickly.

Rangers will visit in March, and you would expect one of the Old Firm to be sent back to Edinburgh after the division splits in two, but the essence of the message remains. If Hearts’ chief executive Chris Robinson does force through his proposed move to Murrayfield, we are witnessing the last few big matches at the Gorgie ground.

Given all the talk of flitting to various venues which has gone on for years now, it is understandable that a large section of the Hearts support were initially resigned to the loss of their historic home. In recent weeks, however, opposition has both grown in size and become more organised, as the fans realise that time is running out ever so quickly.

One of the main arguments against the departure for the 67,500-seater rugby stadium - and one the strength of which is acknowledged by many who want to move - is the atmosphere at Tynecastle, and the belief that it could never be replicated at a far larger ground. That argument was surely strengthened yesterday, as the crowd of 13,753 who kept the game at fever pitch would have been lost at the place down the road.

Robinson said at the Hearts annual general meeting a week ago that for the visits of Hibs and the Old Firm the ticket allocation to away supporters might be increased by several thousand, which would give those particular clubs up to 7,000 supporters at one end of Murrayfield. Obviously if that allocation was taken up Hearts would get extra revenue, but unless there was a similar increase in the size of the home support, the advantage of having most of the crowd behind you would be lost to Craig Levein’s side.

As it is, the 3,000-odd who pack the away end for the visits of Celtic and Rangers already tend to make more noise. If they were dispersed around most of Murrayfield’s lower tier, the Hearts fans would probably decrease in volume.

But at least they were loud enough yesterday. Much has been made of the risk of unsettling the players, with everyone exhorting each other to ensure they keep backing the team while barracking the board, and that balance was struck neatly.

The fans’ chant to their chief executive invited the purveyor of pastries to disappear to a four-letter destination

During play all eyes were on the action. Before and after the match they were turned to the centre of the main stand, where Robinson and his fellow directors sit.

There were a few anxious moments just prior to kick-off, though, when it looked like the object of the fans’ wrath would fail to put in an appearance. The teams were on the pitch, the chairman Doug Smith and the directors Brian Duffin and Stewart Fraser were in their seats. The placards reading "Robinson out now" had been visible for some time. And the chant, which invites the purveyor of pastries to disappear to a four-letter destination, had already been aired. But where was the so-called Pieman himself?

Then at last, with a mastery of comic stagecraft rivalled only by the likes of Robbie Williams, Robinson appeared, mere seconds before Kenny Clark’s whistle started the game.

As the chanting started up again, more venomous now its subject was in sight, he waved, sneered slightly, and took his seat. Was that a sarcastic gesture, or, like the Romanian dictator Nicolae Ceausescu in the last days of his regime, can Robinson not tell the difference between shrieks of hatred and cries of adulation?

If he does have difficulties in distinguishing between those emotions, he was no doubt further confused by an incident in the first half. Knowing that the decision by Liam Miller to leave Celtic for Manchester United had not been taken well by the club’s supporters - as a banner in the away end reading "Miller thanks for nothing" made plain - the Hearts fans opted for a little taunting. "One Liam Miller, there’s only one Liam Miller," they sang.

The response was not long in coming. "Robinson, Robinson, Robinson," sang the Celtic fans, who have never been quite so ready to engage in melodic praise of their own board of directors. Ah, the banter.

There is a down side to the atmosphere at such matches, of course, and that is the vitriol which some of the supporters direct at their rivals. But that will not disappear merely with a change of venue, and nor will incidents such as the coin-throwing which marred yesterday’s match. What could disappear, however, is the positive aspect of the ambience at Tynecastle. The closeness to the pitch, the feeling of being right on top of the action, the sense of being part of a passionate, partisan support. All that could be gone, just months from now, if Hearts move to the soulless bowl down the road.

Taken from the Scotsman