Allies powerless over Robertson

JOHN Wayne may have been a relentlessly heroic wartime leader on celluloid but, given command of a battalion in real life, the old movie star would have had a great deal to prove. This image should be borne in mind when attempting a hypothetical appraisal of John Robertson’s prospects of becoming a great Hearts manager.

Whatever his achievements as a player at Tynecastle - and they were indisputably glorious - Robertson in his second incarnation at the club should have been viewed from the moment he took office as dispassionately as any other novice, even one who had never worn the maroon shirt.

The little former striker is the latest in a series of legendary players to have landed in the managerial chair of his alma mater, with mixed results. Nobody was more revered at their clubs than Willie Miller at Aberdeen and John Greig at Rangers. On their elevation to the managership, both were acclaimed as messiahs; both were eventually ousted in ignominy.

Billy McNeill, who succeeded Jock Stein at Celtic Park at the same time in 1978 as Greig took over from Jock Wallace, was conspicuously more successful. In his first tour of duty, he won three out of five championships, finishing second in the other two, on each occasion beaten by a single point.

But the memory is still fresh of a substantial number of supporters crabbing McNeill’s performance during the loss of those two titles. Nor were Celtic usurped by mugs; Aberdeen and Dundee United went on, respectively, to win the European Cup-Winners Cup and to reach the semi-finals of the Champions Cup.

The signal difference between Robertson and those predecessors, of course, is that they were given considerably longer than six months in which to establish whether or not they had the right stuff. In fact, it has become clear that the outgoing Hearts manager was not even allowed that much time, since talk of his uncertain future began to leak after four.

In the circumstances, it is difficult to avoid the speculation that Robertson was made an offer he had to refuse for reasons other than his managerial capabilities. Given the time scale of his tenure and the difficulties faced by clubs competing with an omnipotent Old Firm, it is nonsensical to suggest, as the Tynecastle board have, that he was not making the rapid progress expected.

It seems reasonable to infer that Robertson’s fairly regular, headline-making impetuousness - an alleged kick at the manager of Ferencvaros, fulminating against perceived injustices by referees, a frequent contrariness with the media - in the face of adversity may have made an unfavourable impression on the Lithuanian members of the board.

Far from failing to justify his appointment through the team’s efforts on the field of play - they did, after all, reach two cup semi-finals and faltered only very late in the race for a UEFA Cup place - Robertson may have been effectively removed simply because he wasn’t their type.

What is striking about his case is that it seems to have been an attempt by his employers to get him out of the front of the shop, away from the public, and into the back, where he could still do valuable work.

It is also hard to be convinced that, among Hearts supporters, the clamour of protest over Robertson’s departure is universal, as implied in many sections of the press. In these matters, there is almost invariably a split, with a sizeable percentage of fans not inclined towards hysteria and prepared to make more considered judgments.

When Kenny Dalglish was created director of football at Celtic in 1999, there was an unseemly rush by certain quarters of the media to assure their readers, listeners and viewers that followers of the Parkhead club were, to a man, rejoicing in the return of the king.

A substantial number of more sensible and considerate supporters of my acquaintance, contrastingly, rushed to express their reservations. When the cronyism that led to chief executive Allan MacDonald appointing Dalglish and the latter, in turn, giving the manager’s job to the untried John Barnes ended in humiliation, those misgivings were spectacularly vindicated.

There are elements of this tumultuous season at Hearts that should leave many - both within and without the club - distinctly uncomfortable. It is, for example, extremely disconcerting when the wishes of both the chairman and the chief executive are overruled by their fellow directors.

George Foulkes and Phil Anderton are both reported to have gone in to bat for Robertson, only to be out for a duck. This is not the kind of form which is likely to enhance the credibility of either. In Stuart Bathgate’s comprehensive coverage of the aftermath of Robertson’s removal the other day, he reported that Anderton saw no reason to resign as a result of losing out in the directors’ ‘consensus’.

Of course, such split decisions are reached by football club boards on a weekly basis. But, in the singular circumstances that prevailed at Tynecastle, there is an unavoidable, and discomfiting, suggestion of powerlessness in the roles of the two highest executive offices in the organisation.

In a one-to-one session before he left for Leicester City, Robertson’s predecessor, the astute and observant Craig Levein, concisely and precisely outlined the ethos that is imperative at any club with aspirations to genuine success.

"At the modern club, this is how it should work," said Levein. "The chairman has to trust the chief executive, the chief executive has to trust the manager and the manager has to trust his staff and his players. I’m sure in my own mind which of these requirements are being met."

At the present-day Tynecastle, it will be a source of unease to many fans that the chain of trust seems have developed some weak links.

Taken from the Scotsman