'Hearts' problem was a lack of fire and bite. They were pitiful'

Published Date: 19 August 2011
By Tom English
AS poignancy goes, Dave Mackay's presence at Tynecastle last night was powerful, the great man of Hearts and Spurs being introduced to the crowd during the half-time break and saying a few words in a weakening voice that did more to raise the roof of the stadium than anything his old Scottish team managed. Asked if this was a special night for him, Mackay replied, to a hushed audience, that aye, it was nice to be here, before adding: "I just wish I was out there playing."
Tynecastle acknowledged the comment and cheered it to the rafters. It was as if an entire stadium spoke as one, particularly the downtrodden, utterly fed-up home fans: "So do we, Dave," they seemed to say in their utter misery. "So do we."

If Mackay was playing in maroon last night would he have allowed this evisceration? Would he have let Spurs' stellar names run amok in one of the most mortifyingly one-sided games in the history of the stadium? You'd have to think that he would have something to say about the slickness of Rafael van der Vaart, the pace of Gareth Bale, the impish threat of Jermain Defoe and Aaron Lennon. Dave Mackay didn't become a legend for tolerating drubbings like this.

Can we chastise Hearts for being out-classed? Not really. Can we criticise them for a terrible lack of attitude and aggression when the game was still a game and not the romp it became? Absolutely. Spurs played beautifully at times because they have great quality, but their quality was never tested with the kind of controlled fury we were hoping for from Hearts. They were limp. You can excuse them getting walloped in terms of sheer class, but not when much of the cause of their early problems in the game was a lack of fire, an absence of bite. They were pitiful.

In fairness, Redknapp pulled a bit of a fast one, the old rogue. Wasn't he supposed to be lukewarm on this Europa League? Wasn't he meant to be more concerned with Manchester United on Sunday than Hearts on Thursday? When he was coming out with all that "respect, innit" for Hearts, wasn't he just playing the game, being diplomatic when actually his real feelings on the matter were that the Jambos were a soft touch that even the young lads in his squad could sort out without too much bother.

Out came the teams and, yes, there were kids in there. Fodder for the Tynecastle angry mob. 'Arry selected the 21-year-old Kyle Walker at full-back. Walker has only ever started two games for Spurs. 'Arry selected Jake Livermore in midfield. Livermore is also 21 and has only ever started one match for Spurs. 'Arry picked Niko Kranjcar instead of Luka Modric. Nice player, Kranjcar, but four starts in all of last season tells you a story of his place in the scheme of things at White Hart Lane.

But hold up. Van der Vaart was in the side. Van der Vaart was supposed to be in cotton wool ahead of the United match, but there he was at the beginning, gazing around at the stands and looking like he was well up for a bit of this famed Tynecastle intimidation. Bale was out there, too. He didn't look all that anxious either even when the Hearts support lifted the decibels to the maximum. Bale looked utterly unmoved.

Aaron Lennon and Jermain Defoe, too. Like a pair of whippets getting ready for a race. What chance these lads would be troubled on the night? Well, after a minute we had the first of many answers. Livermore, the rookie, slotted in beside Kranjcar, and started calling for the ball. The boy wanted it. He demanded it. And he took it. Passed it and moved. Passed it and moved again. Livermore versus Adrian Mrowiec. Hardly the most obvious head-to-head of the night, but one of the most instructive. When Spurs' joint-youngest player can bestride Tynecastle like a colossus, then what chance had Hearts against the artists in this Spurs side, against a side who had scored 11 goals in their last six European games, all of them in the rarefied air of the Champions League?

The match - and the tie - was finished in the 13 minutes it took Van der Vaart and Defoe to put Spurs 2-0 ahead, the first a little fortunate involving a helpful ricochet (possibly off the Dutchman's hand) and the second a veritable stroll through a Hearts defence that had all the awareness of a drunkard at three in the morning.

Now the goading came from the Spurs end - and it was cutting. "Easy, easy," they chanted. "You're supposed to be at home..." they cried. "Are you West Ham in disguise?" they continued. If the West Ham jibe was a reference to a little local rivalry, what was happening here was threatening to become an international embarrassment. And so it became.

The third went in as easily as the second. Some sweet build-up play, quick feet, crisp passing and a cool finish from Livermore. Three goals down after less than half an hour. Nothing left to do but to indulge in some gallows humour. A bloke down the front gives Bale some stick. "Hey Bale, you're shite!"

His mate turns around: "Aye, wouldn't get a game for the Hearts, eh?"

"And Defoe! You're shite an' all!"

Just to prove how shite he was, Bale made it four. Took it round Marian Kello and put it away, as easy as you please. Quick and clinical. More humour, though unintentional this time. "Was that offside?" asked a Jambo.

"Sorry, mate?"

"That pass there, to Bale. Was he offside?"

What difference it made at that stage was clear only to the desperado who asked the question. Mostly at Tynecastle, though, there was the sound of surrender. When Bale made it 4-0, another chant was heard from the masters of black comedy: "5-4! We're gonna win 5-4!" they cheered. It was the most creative thing that anybody connected with Hearts came up with all night.

There was more pain to endure, more nightmares to live with. At 4-0, Hearts hadn't quite suffered their worst ever hiding in Europe, but when Spurs broke out of defence with a pace and accuracy that had the home side gasping like men on 40 Marlboro a day and scored their fifth through Lennon, history was visited upon Paulo Sergio's side.

In the stands the fans sang brightly of a comeback to come, of a 6-5 turnaround at White Hart Lane. It gave them a laugh on their way out, if nothing else. Many of them would have been heading for a hostelry and a date with drink, the only problem being that no matter how much gargle they threw down their necks last night, when they all woke up this morning the horrors of a new kind of Tottenham Riot remained. And they will never go away.

Taken from the Scotsman