Rix and his baggage in wrong destination

THE testosterone-fuelled urges of Graham Rix seem to have been rushed to the head of the list of issues surrounding his appointment as head coach of Hearts. This can hardly be regarded as the surprise of the century, least of all by Rix himself.

He has, after all, had all of the century so far to acclimatise to whatever hostilities a post-prison environment may have had to offer. Yet there lingers the unsettling question of whether a change of geography, with the possibility of exposure to an even more torrid climate, is advisable.

Moral indignation can be as impulsive and, in certain circumstances, as unsafe as sexual arousal. But it is utterly central to the business of examining the wisdom of both Rix's recruitment to and his acceptance of the job at Tynecastle.

Without his felonious history, the new man, it seems fair to hypothesise, would probably have been received by the majority of Hearts fans with the slight suspicion that would attach to anyone with a largely undistinguished managerial record following the heroic George Burley. Much in the same way, in fact, as Celtic supporters harboured reservations about Gordon Strachan succeeding Martin O'Neill. These have been spectacularly demolished over the past two months, culminating in the CIS Insurance Cup victory over Rangers in midweek.

With Rix's baggage, however, his likely experience at Tynecastle and that of Strachan at Parkhead will not bear comparison. While the little former Scotland midfielder merely lacked, until recently, a demonstration of affection from the stands, the former England midfielder will be the object of outright, harrowing antipathy.

The tone of the letters in The Scotsman sports section throughout this week have been fairly indicative of an authentic groundswell of antagonism. And it is rooted, almost exclusively, in disgust over the offence he committed in 1999.

On his release from Wandsworth prison - having served half of a 12-month sentence - Rix's return to Chelsea would have seemed entirely appropriate and, to many, even acceptable. Here was a club being seen to assist in the rehabilitation of an employee with a problem.

It should be remembered, too, that Rix did not go back to Stamford Bridge in the position of manager, but in the less visible role of assistant. The relatively calm waters of Portsmouth and the comparative obscurity of Oxford United which followed also cannot be compared with the present circumstances at Tynecastle.

A club in ferment, as Hearts have been since the sacking of Burley three weeks ago, would not be the most obvious resort for a manager of Rix's notoriety. The happenings in Edinburgh's west end in recent times have not only achieved the virtually impossible by attracting more publicity than the Old Firm in the Scottish media, but have commanded an unprecedented number of column inches in newspapers in England.

Despite the protestations of Roman Romanov, the Hearts chairman and acting chief executive, that Rix has paid his dues and should be given a chance, the fact that he has been given only a six-month contract suggests that the Tynecastle hierarchy are all too aware of the implications and the possible backlash of the appointment.

In the event of intolerable recriminations, this probationary period will allow them to jettison Rix, with no serious damage - at least financially - sustained.

But, without so much as a nod in the direction of morality or outrage, it is impossible to be rid of the impression that Graham Rix has not only strayed into the wrong movie, but in the wrong location and with the wrong director. This is one of those bizarre film sets where the "extras" holler for the removal of the leading man.

AN EXPERIENCE with Alex McLeish in Bratislava last week occasioned a prime example of the reason why managers and players often appear to have lost touch with reality when discussing the esteem in which they are held by fans.

On a walk through the beautiful Slovakian capital on the morning of Rangers' match against Artmedia, three of us encountered McLeish and his assistant, Andy Watson, taking the crisp, autumnal air of a cloudless day.

As we chatted, the manager was, predictably, sighted by a stream of Rangers supporters, most of whom came over and greeted him warmly, shaking his hand, patting his back and wishing him well. There was not so much as a hint of ill will in their attitude.

This is entirely predictable behaviour from people who suddenly find themselves in the company of the famous. It is, however, also predictable many of them will be among the first to call a radio phone-in or a newspaper hotline to proclaim the manager or player in question a dumpling who should be removed forthwith.

Meanwhile, the celebrity can hardly resist forming the impression that he has the unswerving backing - or even the fondness - of the club's followers. Peter Lovenkrands, hardly a pin-up at Ibrox, gave a demonstration of this recently when he told journalists that he has always had a very cordial reception from the fans.

It wasn't quite Sally Field's famous "You love me" Oscar acceptance speech, but it was enough to suggest that the unfortunate Dane had fallen for the illusion. McLeish, of course, is too astute to be deluded. He recognises that the derision that has rained from the Ibrox stands in recent times is a far more reliable guide to supporters' feelings.

ON A business trip to Cologne on Tuesday of this week, the wife of a colleague was taken aback on passing a pub that displayed an advertising board proclaiming: "Live on TV tonight - Motherwell v Aberdeen". Is this what is known as a niche market?

Taken from the Scotsman