Mercer forever had his club at heart

I FIRST came across Wallace Mercer when I was asked to speak at a Round Table meeting in Edinburgh in the late 1970s. It was in a hotel which he had either just acquired, or in which he was about to invest, through Pentland Securities. It was one of these evenings where the invited speaker was required to recount some of the experiences and memorable moments from his career. Despite my footballing days having by then come to a close, I had been asked to cover my years as a Hearts player.

Before the evening programme started, I was introduced to Wallace, then no more than 25 years old. We spoke, or should I say he spoke, for no more than two minutes. Later, after I had staggered through the usual mix of good times, bad times and the various personalities who had made my spell at Tynecastle such a joyous one, the evening was thrown open to questions from the floor. As I awaited nervously for the usual inquisition about another disappointing year at Tynecastle, guess which member of the audience asked the first question?

Three decades later, I have no recall of what Wallace asked or what I might have told him in response. Whatever contact there was between us, however, was enough to convince me that I had met a genuine whizz-kid.

Anyone who spent time, even a brief minute or two, in the company of Wallace would almost certainly remember it. He had a fleetness of mind which left many people breathless, more than a few astonished but, in almost every case, in no doubt that this single-minded and energised individual was going to get things done, whether they liked it or not. For those who did not see eye-to-eye with him, perhaps "exhausting and exasperating" might be a better description!

It also registered at our first meeting that this young man had more than a passing interest in the goings-on at Tynecastle Park. But it would be a year or so later before I called Wallace again to report further decline of the club and to ascertain what interest, if any, he might have in doing something about it. At that stage, he wasn't biting.

Roughly two years passed before I felt the need to depress him once more during another discussion on the continued slide of Heart of Midlothian Football Club. He entertained me to lunch at his favourite Edinburgh restaurant. My contribution to the two hours was minimal; characteristically, his was considerable.

Observations and questions kept coming at me. His appetite for a commercial challenge appeared to be insatiable. The success of his property development activities and the energy with which he pursued them certainly produced ample evidence of that. To my disappointment, however, there was no sign that he was prepared to look more closely at any kind of involvement in a possible rescue of the club.

By the beginning of the 1980s, Hearts had reached what we all believed was the lowest point in living memory. Devoid of quality players and bereft of working capital, the acceleration into football oblivion was clear to everyone concerned. A stubborn board of directors would not admit to the gravity of the situation, and yet another meeting I had with Wallace left me quite depressed. Was he simply waiting for the bottom of the barrel - as most shrewd purchasers and investors do - or was he not serious about making the commitment? It was frustrating to know that here we had an individual with the wherewithal to save the club, yet seemingly did not have the will. Why was he so interested in the state of the club, yet chose not to intervene? As one who finds great difficulty in reading the average mind, there was no chance of me reading Wallace's intentions!

Then, quite suddenly, it came to a head. Rumours were circulating that Edinburgh businessman Kenny Waugh (later to chair Hibernian) was in the final stages of negotiations to gain control of the Hearts. Through a complete stroke of luck one Friday morning while I was visiting one of my Edinburgh clients, I heard that a "done deal" was on the cards with the Hearts board having agreed to sell a majority shareholding to Waugh. A meeting had been arranged for that weekend, and an announcement was to be made at Tynecastle on the Monday morning.

I met Kenny Waugh several times after these events took place and found him to be charming, personable and, obviously, good at running his business. Nevertheless, the thought of a Hibee in charge at Tynecastle filled this particular Hearts supporter with dismay and some alarm.

It was now the eleventh hour. In those days of course, there were no mobile phones. A frantic call to Wallace's office merely confirmed that he was "away on business". I had his home number in my own office, but the doors were closed for lunch. It was after 2pm before I could try to find his whereabouts from his wife Anne - if she was in. And as each minute passed, Hearts were slipping into the hands of a Hibernian fan.

If it seemed like a breakthrough when Wallace's wife Anne answered their telephone at home, my heart sank again when she told me that Wallace was in London - somewhere. But she was able to give me the name of the London hotel which he had booked.

After several years of persistent but fruitless persuasion, there then followed two lightning-fast hours of panic at what I saw unmistakably as the very edge of the cliff. I will never forget the speed at which, first, I was able to get through to him in his hotel room and then, second, the incredible pace at which Wallace reacted to ensure that nothing was signed before he had the opportunity to put his ideas to the Hearts board. To this day, I have no conception of how he managed to block the Waugh bid and then trump it, but his acquisition of a major shareholding at Hearts was successfully negotiated in a remarkable turn of events. He must have been prepared to spring into action at any moment over the previous months or even years. As all Hearts supporters are now aware, a new chapter in the club's history was about to unfold.

For five or six years, Wallace did everything right. Slowly but surely, on and off the field, fortunes began to turn. The club was the first in Scotland to install corporate hospitality and really exploit the benefits of commercial sponsorship. Managerial and coaching staff with high pedigree began to emerge, along with the timely rise of terrific young talent, pushing the club towards the top of the league. The disaster at Dundee on the last day of season 1985/86, when the league title was snatched away by Celtic, was a cruel and undeserved blow. Everything Wallace had planned fell apart in ten minutes of football at Dens Park and Love Street. Some time after the post mortems had been and gone, he asked me: "Where's the fairness in five years of solid work and investment in my company being dependant on the fallibility of a few guys and ten minutes on a football pitch?" He shook his head. The incredulity of it all barred any provision of a sensible reply.

There is a school of thought that many of the enterprises in which Wallace became involved during his hugely colourful and fast-moving business career were ego trips. While it is true that he loved the limelight, and he was invariably like a kid with a new toy when at Tynecastle, the future success of Hearts meant everything to him.

Following the near-miss in 1986, however, I believe his attitude changed. Did he begin to think too much about Wallace rather than Hearts? Perhaps only those closest to him can offer an answer to that question. It all came to a head, of course, with 'The Hibs Affair' and in retrospect, while I am certain I would not have been able to influence him in his decision, I regret never having had the chance to discuss his controversial plans with him before the dye was cast. Was this a power game, or did he firmly believe that one bigger, financially stronger Edinburgh club could break the Glasgow monopoly?

For far too long, the tiresome west of Scotland stranglehold on the Scottish game, evidenced in all aspects of governance, trophy success and even the media, had seemed impossible to break. There had been odd interruptions, but a long-term shift of power seemed as distant as ever. Sadly, it still does to this day. Wallace had always been determined to try to change that and, from the point of view of Edinburgh football fans, he obviously believed that the answer was an amalgamation, merger, take-over - call it what you will - of Hearts and Hibs.

I disagreed fundamentally with that concept and still do. I think Wallace got it wrong and I think, to his eternal credit, he ultimately recognised that he had made a mistake. I believe the answer to a monopoly is more competition rather than less, and although it is too early to make predictions, the current green shoots of development at both Easter Road and Tynecastle might yet grow into something which will manage to bring regular success and a long overdue shift in the balance of power in the Scottish game.

That episode apart, what Wallace Mercer did for Heart of Midlothian Football Club has to rank as one of the greatest contributions of its long and illustrious history. Managers and players come and go - some heroes, others not - but the owners and directors are a breed apart. Their remit is to provide a solid, long term base on which the aforementioned can practise their acquired skills. The myriad essential but generally unrecognised duties and obligations beyond the glamour of the playing pitch need to be regularly and urgently addressed. That Wallace Mercer brought his enormous energy, enthusiasm, business acumen and, yes, glamour, to those aspects at Tynecastle will be the legacy he now leaves us.

As a Hearts supporter, I will never forget the wonderful talent, enjoyment, atmosphere and excitement that he helped to create with his 'new' team, which came so close in 1986. In the greater scheme of things, he undoubtedly saved Hearts from financial collapse, and the longer term stability he achieved - so desperately elusive in football - is immeasurable in its value. that this stability was in serious danger of renewed disintegration in recent years will have been a matter of great concern for Wallace, but he was clearly delighted to see Vladimir Romanov put the club back on its feet again.

That there was a club left for Romanov to take over is down to Wallace. We will never forget what he did for Hearts

Taken from the Scotsman