Hearts in crisis: Demise and fall of the Vladimir Romanov era

Euan McLean

GREETED as a so-called saviour when he arrived in Gorgie eight years ago, Vladimir Romanov has proved to be nothing more than a false prophet during his reign at Hearts.
Romanov wants to sell hearts Romanov wants to sell hearts

WHEN Vladimir Romanov breezed into Tynecastle in 2005 his takeover was greeted like the Second Coming.

What now for his false gospel, as this so-called saviour hides in Russia while his club teeters on the brink of ruin?

What now for the fans who bought those daft Russian hats and lapped up Vlad’s pledges to lead Hearts to the Champions League Final?

How cheated must they feel having put their trust in Romanov’s revolution? How insulted must they feel by the arrogant club statement last week trying to blame them for not buying more season tickets?

And what must they think of men like George Foulkes MP who were so desperate to oust Chris Robinson they campaigned to welcome Vlad with open arms – and eyes closed?

As it was after the demise of Rangers, there will be countless questions.

But perhaps the most important is how could this be allowed to happen? Why were the excesses of Romanov’s regime not scrutinised more closely?

Did boardroom alarm bells not ring when approached by a man who had been knocked back by Dundee United, Dundee and Dunfermline?

It seems they couldn’t hear anything over the clamour to get rid of Robinson and his plans to sell Tynecastle.

Romanov’s whispered promises to wipe out their £20million debt and keep the house must have been music to their ears. He soon amassed 82 per cent of the shares and the honeymoon was good.

George Burley was named boss and he led them on a romp to the top of the SPL, winning their first eight matches to equal a club record that had stood since 1914.

Yet there was talk of unrest due to interference in team affairs and sacking Burley while Hearts were riding high was the first of many controversies.

Romanov branded reporters who questioned his actions “media monkeys” and how they laughed at Tynecastle the day bananas were laid out in the press room. How they chuckled in the stands when “Hey Hey We’re The Monkeys” was played on the tannoy pre-match.

How they must wish now a few more of them inside Tynecastle had shared our cynicism. Instead they were more like the Three Monkeys – Hear No Evil, See No Evil and Speak No Evil.

The more dubious decisions he made, the more maniacal his outbursts became. The SFA had an agenda, refs were corrupt and the game was in the pockets of the Old Firm and mafia.

So sickened was Vlad by it all he was going to sell up and start a new career in the theatre. Or come and swim in Loch Ness (he actually did that one) or get a job as a taxi driver.

Every stunt another blatant attempt to Nelson’s Eye the real issue. Like why have you sacked another manager Vlad? He went through 15.

Or why did the debt rocket to a high of £36m on your watch?

Or, in the case of Graham Rix, why have you appointed a manager with a conviction for sexually abusing an underage girl?

And why did you later refuse to sack one of your players, Craig Thomson, when he was convicted of sexual offences towards under-age girls?

More reckless management went largely unchallenged inside the club.

Fair play then to the Riccarton Three – captain Steven Pressley, Paul Hartley and Craig Gordon – for showing the backbone to publicly condemn Romanov’s actions.

If only others in more influential positions had been so brave.

Should the SFA have asked tough questions about the conflict of interest of Romanov owning the bank that holds his club’s enormous overdraft?

One look at his vast wage bill clearly showed the club’s bank balance didn’t add up. Today, the grave fear is decent, hard-working office workers, cleaners and PR staff will be the ones to pay.

Anyone who says two Scottish Cup wins were worth all the pain has not spared a thought for the creditors and innocent staff.

Jambos fans can be proud of how they stood up for their team – but no amount of can rattling and race nights will rescue the club now.

All hopes are now pinned on The Foundation of Hearts. If they can negotiate a transfer of power perhaps some good can from all this.

They might not offer the thrills and spills of these last eight years. But any true Jambo would give anything to know they’ll still have a club to support eight years from now.

The famous saying goes that blood doesn’t show on a maroon shirt. We can only hope tears don’t leave a lasting stain either.

Taken from the Daily Record