The plot just gets thinner on detail

PERSONALLY, I love a good conspiracy theory. Life would be dull, or at least less complicated, without a giant secret plot going on somewhere. Elvis said as much just the other night when he called up from Kurt Cobain's birthday party at Area 51.

Seriously, if beings from another planet have not taken over Sky Sports, there is something amiss with the laws of physics. If forces from the dark side did not render the referee's red card invisible at Celtic Park the other night, there was a mass delusion taking place. (No, hold on) But you get the point. Either a vast conspiracy has disrupted the space-time continuum in the Gorgie area, or Hearts have just become the supporting cast in an episode of The X Files. The only alternative explanation is that the Scottish game is as twisted as a Dr Who twisty monster and the Men in Black are in the pay of the O** F***.

How else to describe the team's spooky failure to reach the top six? What else would make sense of a £36.5 million debt, most of the players signed recently, or the fact that every manager hired by heroic proprietors has fallen victim to the Invasion of the Coach Snatchers?
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Here's a clue: the entire personnel of nine other SPL clubs are either hypnotised by the mind-control rays from Planet O** F***, or are too terrified to speak out. The press are in on it, as usual. To save their miserable skins many of them just pretend to have no allegiance to Glasgow football teams. This is a cover, obviously, to mask their nefarious plots.

It takes an authentic hero to stand up against an all-powerful evil empire. Hearts have to settle for Roman Romanov instead. Mini-Vlad, His Dad's Voice, was fearless last week in telling shareholders exactly what the old man told them the last time the peasants were grumbling.

Since inaccuracy generally counts as evidence of media bias, it is best to quote the boy in full, I think. "For a very long time in this country it is a fixed league where Rangers and Celtic win by 30 points," he informed the club's annual meeting on Friday. "Ask yourself how many games this year have been screwed by referees. Five games is 15 points."

The last remark is, of course, entirely accurate, and ample evidence of Mini-Vlad's right to be the heir to a major business empire. He could probably add up to 36.5 million if needs be. Before the relevant authorities begin to circle Tynecastle, however, and before an enviably loyal support expires through sheer embarrassment, let's hear a word of praise for bravado.

In some unrefined circles they call it gall. Fall back in admir- ation: not only did RR fail to apologise to fans for a certain troubling disparity this season between the team's actual performance and the promised conquest of Europe, he didn't even bother to invent a new fantastic excuse.

Nor did the young proxy - Vlad was absent from the gathering, yet again - trouble his audience with evidence. That, you might have thought, shouldn't have been difficult. Game A; match B; tie C: if the fix is so blatant, you should be able to identify specific incidents, or at least one incident. You should if you are talking sense, at any rate.

The Romanovs, it appears, are not detail people, not where football is concerned. They and their cohorts adopt a certain airy tone. Young Roman, talking of the chances of Hearts ever securing a manager to replace the hapless Stevie Frail, revealed the startling news that it is "very difficult" to find a decent coach these days.

This may be because of the malign conspiracy working against the club, of course. Or it may be that a lot of people in the game have heard the name Romanov. Besides, there is a further puzzle. Which candidate would fare best against the O** F*** and their machinations? Someone "British-style" or someone "European-style"?

Sergejus Fedotovas, a club director, was pondering the mystery last week. He spoke as though Hearts have their pick of all the available talent, but we'll let that pass. We can also overlook the possibility that a willing young hotshot might ask the manager of Scotland, a chap called Burley, for tips on the Tynecastle job. Fedotovas appeared to be serious.

Conspiracy or no earthly conspiracy whatever, the two most successful coaches operating in this country, according to past and present form, are "Scottish-style". South of the border, the senior league is dominated by impecc-ably continental managerial talent, with the exception of those who are indelibly Scottish, Irish, or Welsh. They do a tasty red herring at Tynecastle these days.

They do not, as mentioned, do convincingly detailed explanations. The City of Edinburgh Council has wondered about that in the context of plans for a £51m main stand. The council has asked for some reassurance as to viability and the like. RR says the club could always go for a cheaper option.

Fedotovas, who may speak to the owner's son now and then, instead mentions a share issue for the debt and a "financial partner" for the stand development.

The Edinburgh business community tends to be fond of bankers offering attractive partnerships, but the suits also read sports pages and balance sheets. A share issue would meanwhile be a fascinating exercise. Would loyal fans subscribe in droves? Would institutions throw cares and crunched credit to the winds for the sake of an indisputable bargain?

Speaking as part of the vast conspiracy, I can only offer pitiful rhetorical questions. Even so, I am wholly confident that Romanov senior's banking interests, and that impressive dependent Tynecastle debt, are entirely immune to the gales blowing through global financial systems.

In parts of Edinburgh they won't believe a word that follows, but in Gorgie they have grown accustomed to believing odd things. The supporters of Heart of Midlothian deserve better, a lot better, than the Romanov dynasty.

Taken from the Sunday Herald