A cool, calm mentality is winner in the dugout battle
THEY say Lennon and McCartney were different types of people. Try Lennon and McInnes. Watching the body language and behaviour of the rival managers in the closing stages of yesterday’s fascinating — and simply fantastic — Scottish Cup semi-final at Hampden was almost as compelling as the drama unfolding in front of them on the pitch.
Neil Lennon is simply a crackling, bristling ball of pure, unadulterated emotion — a deep and swirling pool of anger, humour, noise, charm, clenched fists, flying arms, elation and frustration with any or all of those attributes capable of interchanging within a matter of seconds.
His Hibs players must harbour some tales from the locker room. People talk about those who worked under Sir Alex Ferguson enduring the hairdryer treatment. These guys will speak in years to come about the flamethrower.
Even out there in public, in a 50,000-plus stadium with a running track around it, he rarely stops haranguing his players, bellowing instructions, letting it all spill out. Mind you, given the way his team started yesterday, it says something that it took almost four minutes of play before he stood on the edge of the technical area and started offloading.
Those who were present in the Hampden auditorium for the post-match savaging of his team, though, still bear the look of startled deer on a busy motorway. His words read strongly enough in print. The delivery, by all accounts, was even more breathtaking.
Derek McInnes, in contrast, is a picture of restraint, of control. A man who tries to keep emotion out of the equation, dampen it down, remove it if at all possible. He is as acutely aware as Lennon is of how the media works, and his refusal to speak in big headlines is deliberate. He protects his players, manages expectation and likes to be in charge of the message at Pittodrie.
In truth, the more pragmatic side of his character almost proved his undoing in this one. Two goals to one in front against a Hibs side that had overcome an unforgivable start to the match without ever really hitting top gear, he opted to replace attacking midfielder Ryan Christie with central defender Anthony O’Connor just before the hour and change to three at the back. Or five at the back. Something like that.
Whatever the nuances of the formation, the fact is that O’Connor hadn’t touched the ball when Dylan McGeouch made it 2-2 a minute later. It took only nine minutes before Niall McGinn was thrown on for Mark Reynolds in what appeared a move to hit the reset button.
If McInnes was guilty of overthinking things, perhaps it was understandable. He had lost three times previously at this stage of the competition, twice with St Johnstone and once with Aberdeen. Hands in pockets much of the time, he cut an agitated, nervy figure at the edge of his technical area.
Even when Jonny Hayes’ speculative effort took the cruellest of deflections to get him out of jail with four minutes to go, his celebrations were muted.
Compare him to Lennon. When McGeouch scored that equaliser, he set off on a run down the touchline, rounded the corner flag and made his way back behind an advertising board, high-fiving a ballboy in the process.
His team selection raised questions, too. The first halfhour was a catastrophe, with Hibs incapable of stringing passes together far less getting lone striker Jason Cummings involved. Grant Holt’s introduction for Fraser Fyvie — whose petulant behaviour in throwing off a jacket provided by kitman Tam McCourt before sulking on the steps when McGeouch scored should spell the end of his time at Easter Road — was the moment that really lit the touchpaper under the game.
Any one of Hibs’ players could have been taken off. They were all so bad. It just so happens Fyvie was on a yellow card, but the indiscipline of the team, in general, was just dreadful.
John McGinn lost the ball straight from kick-off and Darren McGregor then passed it to Adam Rooney to score after 12 seconds. McGeouch and Martin Boyle inexplicably broke the wall and allowed Christie’s free-kick to bend in at the near post past the illprepared Ofir Marciano for the Dons’ second.
When Efe Ambrose was caught in possession well upfield by Kenny McLean on 29 minutes, going down and getting play stopped because of a head knock, Lennon took the chance to spell out a few home truths on the touchline. Hibs were all over the place.
In many ways, this game highlighted so many of their strengths and weaknesses. They have decent character and can be good and bad in equal measure. This squad is not ready to compete over an entire Premiership season, though, and you do wonder how Lennon would handle a campaign in which wins may not arrive with the regularity he has been accustomed to throughout his career.
There were some pretty loud explosions as Hibs limped towards the Championship and another outburst yesterday. The ferocity of his attack on his players at Hampden was something of a surprise, considering he appeared to walk up the tunnel at full-time in a calm, philosophical frame of mind.
At the final whistle, he even gave McInnes a warm cuddle and a kind word. Love is all you need. It might just take him a little while to sing along to that sentiment. He is more preoccupied with sorting out his ‘boyband’ at the moment.