Keith Jackson

Hibs 0 Celtic 3: Ruthless Celts ensure the grief on Leith continues

RUTHLESS Celtic ensure that Hibernian's 11-year-old Scottish Cup hoodoo continues for at least another season.
"Their hearts were broken. Sorrow. Sorrow. Sorrow. Sorrow." "Their hearts were broken. Sorrow. Sorrow. Sorrow. Sorrow."

AT least they stayed until the bitter end this time, almost to a man, woman and child.

Which just goes to prove these Hibs supporters have now been through so much pain and Scottish Cup suffering they are just about immune to it.

They’re not of course. Sure, they might have greeted defeat like an old pal yesterday at the National Stadium but deep down they felt that crushing despair take a grip, as a first-half double from Gary Hooper rendered this season’s finale the one-horse race so many had expected it to be.

Joe Ledley smashed home a third late on to settle the rout and seal a league and cup Double for a Celtic side who are so far ahead of the rest in this country the silverware will soon be piling up like an Aladdin’s Cave inside Parkhead and spilling out on to the concourse.

In fact, if they had a heart at all they might have allowed this one to slip. Really, what difference would one measly Scottish Cup possibly make to them?

Well, quite a lot as it turned out. Perhaps it was the adrenalin buzz of a full house and a fully-charged atmosphere. Perhaps it was fear of hitting the beach on a downer this summer. Perhaps they just enjoy these ticker-tape parades.

Whatever the reason, with Anthony Stokes and skipper Scott Brown driving them on, they were not leaving without another bauble for the bulging cabinet. They’ll squeeze it in somewhere.

Hibs? They would have hugged the damn thing up and down Princes Street for the rest of the summer and beyond. But once again it has slipped through their grasp.

They must have seen it coming even before yesterday’s agony began. As their anthem belted out and bounced back towards them off the slopes of Hampden, with it came an onrushing sense of dread and deja vu.

They had been here 12 months ago when their hearts were broken.

Their hearts were broken.

Sorrow. Sorrow. Sorrow. Sorrow.

And now here they were again. Back at the same stadium fearing the same gut-wrenching despair.

They were all here one year ago, of course, for a historic all-Edinburgh affair, only to discover their team had not returned the courtesy of turning up.

And so they were left defenceless, watching and wincing as untold amounts of agony was done to them by Hearts. What happened here 12 months ago was almost inhumane. It was a slaughter.

And yet back they came by the busload over the M8. Back to the scene of such appalling sorrow. Hoping for the best but mostly bracing themselves for the worst. Still, at least they had the weather. Again.

As is the law, Hampden was bathed in glorious sunshine at kick-off time on cup final day and at that moment the Hibs end was bouncing, bustling and ?brimming over with nervous excitement.

Deep down they probably knew it couldn’t last – and they were right.

Because half an hour later those familiar, threatening grey clouds were rolling in above them from the west.

And by now another final – another 90-minute opportunity to end 111 years of suffering – was also drifting?beyond them.

The first eight minutes were not so rough. In fact, they saw enough from their team in that opening spell to think it might be different this time after all.

Hibs actually came tearing out of the blocks with Leigh Griffiths needing just a minute and eight seconds to fire the first shot of the Final – the fact he was almost 40 yards out and on the touchline clearly no deterrent at all.

Then Kevin Thomson cushioned a perfect pass into the feet of Tom Taiwo and the former Chelsea kid let fly with a volley which oohed and aahed its way over the bar from the edge of the box.

With only six minutes on the clock, Fraser Forster pulled off a superb reflex save to claw out a crisp header from Eoin Doyle who had soared above the Celtic defence to connect with Ryan McGivern’s hanging cross from the left.

Celtic looked sluggish, rattled and actually pretty vulnerable. It was then that skipper Scott Brown, an old Hibee favourite, decided to intervene. As it turned out he would not stop until he had the trophy in his hands.

Brown was all over this final from that moment when he grabbed the ball in midfield for the first time.

A drop of the shoulder later and he was lining up with Kris Commons, then spraying a pass out to the right for the galloping Mikel Lustig. This was the first glimpse of Celtic composure and in a flash the Hibs defence was being turned and stretched out of position.

That Lustig’s cross was overcooked did not matter. It was missed by Alan Maybury and then collected by Stokes. When he did he spotted an opportunity to fire it straight back into the mixer.

Hibs keeper Ben Williams thought about coming for it then thought better of it. Then he thought Paul Hanlon had it covered at the back post.

For his part Hanlon thought no action at all was required.

Among all this indecision Hooper nipped in between the pair of them to jab out a leg and caress a volley into Williams’s empty net.

Ref Willie Collum might as well have blown for time up right then because this contest was over. A badly-shaken Hibs simply did not have it in them to respond.

Instead, they began to panic and to lose their early focus. They became befuddled and unable to think or see clearly. What they needed was just to keep the ball for five minutes. To take a deep breath and regroup.

But they could do neither and the more anxious they got the more they invited Celtic to take control

The invitation would not be refused. Indeed, Lennon’s men were also transformed all at once and ready to move in for the kill.

The only surprise was it took them another 20-odd minutes to actually do so.

Ledley should certainly have done better than smash a shot straight at Williams after being the beneficiary of one of this final’s most sumptuous supplies, a curling through ball from Commons which very nearly made the mouth water as it whipped around Maybury and sliced Hibs in two.

But then, on the half-hour mark, Hibs collapsed for a second time almost as if the mistakes they made at the first goal were actually only a dress rehearsal.

Another deep Stokes cross from the left, some more general stand-offishness at the back post where once again Hooper squeezed between Hanlon and McGivern, this time to flash a header back across Williams and in at the keeper’s right-hand post.

Maybe had Griffiths not run out of grass in 37 minutes, when he chased a Hanlon probe and rounded Forster in Celtic’s goal, a lifeline may have been thrown. But not even this miracle worker could beat the angles with his shot, which bobbled across the face of goal.

Hibs at least kept themselves in it before the break when a wonderful lunging tackle from Jordon Forster stopped Hooper from racing clear on to a first-half hat-trick.

But, really, it was only delaying the inevitable. Stokes, another Easter Road old boy intent on doing some damage, almost cracked a home a misery-ender at the start of the second half but his shot flashed past Williams and wide of the keeper’s left-hand post.

There followed a brief Hibs flurry which, for the 10 minutes or so that it lasted, raised some flagging spirits among their fans without ever giving the Celtic defence any serious cause for concern.

And then, in 79 minutes, came the final withering round house from the left boot of Ledley who ripped one into the roof of the net from 10 yards out after Hooper had only just failed to connect with a driven Lustig cross from the right. Again Stokes played a part in the build-up.

And so it ended for Pat Fenlon and his players. Slightly less painful than a year ago but still with no sign of this 111-year-old curse relenting.

The question is, while they’re worth their room on this earth, will it be with them?

Taken from the Daily Record