All strictly confidential as confusion reigns

Confidence is the supreme virtue in football. When they possess it in abundance, ordinary players can take on the world and prevail; without it, transcendent footballers find their feet shackled. Confidence can be bought and sold but does not always travel well. It can be imparted a la Bill Shankly, but it cannot be imposed - unlike confidentiality.

When George Burley departed Hearts so abruptly last weekend, the club immediately invoked an agreement with their ejected manager that both would keep schtum about what exactly led to the unseemly manner of his going.

Now, here was a matter of consuming interest, not only to the club's supporters, but also to a wider audience, including many who would normally pay scant attention to the Scottish game but who had become intrigued by Hearts' sudden ascent to a pinnacle usually occupied by one or other of the Old Firm pair.

Passions clearly collided within Tynecastle. Burley and his boss - Vladimir Romanov, Hearts' principal shareholder - evidently nourished contrasting and, in the end, competing philosophies of management. Why could this not have been a subject, if not for open debate, at least for restrained but informative statements from both sides?

"The reason for the confidentiality agreement is that once one side says something, the other side responds and then it gets into mud-slinging," a Hearts source said this week.

One of the problems with constructing such flood barriers is that storm tides of controversy simply move on and pour through the breaches of speculation and gossip. So it was that, from a variety of credible sources, this correspondent heard the following assertions - in no particular order - about Burley's sacking.

Burley and Romanov had incompatible modus operandi and could not be brought to a diplomatic agreement on how to proceed. Romanov is neither interested nor knowledgeable about the traditional methods of British football managers - Burley likewise about wealthy directors who regard coaches as merely trainers.

Burley was evasive about his long-term plans. Burley did not buy a house in Edinburgh because (a) he was unwilling to commit to the club or (b) his wife declined to move or (c) because he believed Romanov wanted him out.

Romanov demanded that more Lithuanian players be included in the side to please the TV station in that country which has contracted to show Hearts games there. Romanov wanted written reports from Burley justifying why (a) certain players were in the first team or (b) excluded from selection.

The Hearts directors believed that Burley was negotiating himself a move to another club. They feared that he might take the Scottish core of the side - Craig Gordon, Steven Pressley, Andy Webster and Paul Hartley - with him.

And, finally, another club tapped Burley about becoming their manager and it is this club who have financed the Hearts confidentiality agreements because they have not yet informed their own manager he is for the chop, and they fear an expensive contractual settlement if word gets out about their intentions.

It must be stressed that the above is simply a snapshot of the rumour mill and that much of what has been said and written is not - and cannot be - true. On the other hand, in the case of the relationship between the manager and the major stockholder, nobody denies that their paths began to diverge almost from the moment Hearts went to the top of the Scottish Premier League.

What makes some Hearts fans uneasy is the thought that Burley may command whatever moral high ground is available and has been bought off from telling what he knows.

Confidentiality clauses may stand up against direct assault by the media, but there is another besieger at their gates. To paraphrase Bob Dylan, fans hear rumours, repeat quotations and draw conclusions on the internet - and that is a medium upon which, if people cannot reveal secrets, they happily make them up, a habit which ultimately serves no good purpose.

Taken from telegraph.co.uk