Derby gives bad hair days new meaning

YOU can keep your Man U v The Arse. For real rivalry, the place to be tomorrow is Tynecastle.

It wasn’t always. When I started watching the Edinburgh Derby, games invariably ended 0-0. This sequence lasted for what seemed like centuries and, by common consent, Hearts v Hibs, the Clash of the Timorous, was the worst fixture of its kind anywhere in the world.

Now the teams can’t stop scoring. Great goals, late goals and - on two bonkers occasions - eight goals. Wins with a high-gloat factor are avenged the following season with casual brutality.

These days, we marvel at the Derby but assume we’re either in Dreamland or Nightmaresville. Did that just happen? The video rushed out as a souvenir serves as conclusive proof - it’s become known in legal circles as the smoking video. As a consequence, the next day, half the city turns up for work early; the other half throws a sickie.

But should the Derby still matter when you’re old enough to have seen Benny Brazil and Joe Tartan Lino, never mind Eric Carruthers and Cammy Fraser perform in it, and therefore should know better? Stupid question ...

What’s going to happen tomorrow? Search me. This is the kind of game where, as they say, the form book goes out the window. (Does this flagrant littering still happen? Note to teams about to play local rivals: on-the-spot fines are now enforced).

Form-wise, there’s not much between the capital clubs, but this masks crucial differences in style. Hearts have beards, Hibs have groovy haircuts.

Andy Webster at least tries but his streaky effort - presumably the work of a hairdresser with ‘Kutz’ in the shop-name - gives the impression of an unfortunate scalp condition. If I were him I’d go straight back to the salon and demand of the crimper: "Do me a Kevin Thomson." Maybe he could take along a picture of the Hibs starlet for guidance, like Bowie wannabes used to do with the Aladdin Sane LP.

Thomson is injured and so is Scott Brown, which last season would have meant Hibs being two groovy haircuts down. The emergence of Dean Shiels and Steven Fletcher, both extravagantly-plumed as part of the current fad for impersonating badgers, has restored their dominance in this area. But the Hibees could still end up having a bad hair day.

Some of this Young Leith Team weren’t even born when John Robertson embarked on his reign of terror in the Derby. It wasn’t over until the fat striker scored and Robbo seemed to transfix Hibs defenders by his presence, reputation and - it has to be said - odd bodyshape.

Mark de Vries fulfils a similar function now. He’s like the hypnotist on TV’s Little Britain: "Look into my eyes, look into my eyes ..." While the defence is spellbound, de Vreasy ambles round them and knocks the ball into the net. "Three-two-one, you’re back in the room."

It’s too easy to say that Hibs like to keep the ball on the ground and Hearts prefer it to be above the cloudline. Paul Hartley’s recent form as Hearts’ playmaker, if he maintains it tomorrow, will come as a shock to Hibs fans who remember his nancy-boy performances in the green and white.

Also, he usually brings along a couple of enforcers to help clear space in which to create. Hibs don’t have players like Phil Stamp and Patrick Kisnorbo; their fans might argue they don’t want them either. But this muscle could be crucial.

Imagine Stamp and Kisnorbo as bouncers at a nightclub. It’s all very well Hibs having the hairdos and doubtless the trendy gear to match. But if these two decide, "Sorry, lads, no jeans and trainers - and definitely no flicks and feints", then that could be the end of the matter.

Something’s got to give when the team with the worst disciplinary record meets the one which spends most time in front of the dressing-room mirror, and I can’t wait.

Taken from the Scotsman