Big still beautiful for hardy Hearts
IN the annals of British football’s most notorious hard men, Scots have left their, mark. Literally, at times. In a Mail Online top 10 of the national game’s most brutal exponents of premeditated retaliation, the northern half of the British Isles is impressively prominent.
At No 3 in the top ten was Billy Bremner. Ten stone of Stirling rock, the term ‘firebrand’ could have been invented for the former Leeds and Scotland midfielder.
But even he was no match for a man capable of emptying the innards of opponents and journalists alike with a menacing stare.
In 1986, Graeme Souness was sent off a mere 37 minutes into his Rangers debut for crunching George McCluskey of Hibs.
The incident sparked an infamous 22-man melee. Souness admitted later he got the wrong man, blaming his assistant Walter Smith.
‘Walter told me: “Be careful, because this player will try to leave a bit on you” — so I tried to get my retaliation in first.’
He did the same to Gheorghe Rotariu; victim of an X-rated assault during a Rangers versus Steaua Bucharest European Cup clash in 1988.
‘Souness nearly killed him,’ claimed Steaua’s Gheorghe Popescu afterwards. He wasn’t wrong.
In comparison, Dave Mackay — sixth in the top 10 — was a veritable pussycat. 5ft 8in of solid Scottish steel, Mackay was hard as nails. A picture of the Spurs legend grabbing Bremner by the shirt while snarling in his face with splintered teeth has become an iconic image.
No one — except Dave Mackay — ever did that to Billy Bremner.
But hard does not always translate as dirty. Those who witnessed him at his peak say Mackay was tough as teak. Hard, yes, but fair.
A former Hearts player and fervent supporter of the club, Mackay died at the age of 80 last March. And he, more than anyone, would have appreciated the qualities of the current Tynecastle side — while chuckling at the absurdity of the ‘dirty-Hearts’ label.
In recent weeks, Robbie Neilson’s team have acquired a reputation. It started after a league defeat in Aberdeen last month where their play was described as ‘robust’. Applying one of football’s great euphemisms, some Dons players branded them ‘physical’.
By the time of last week’s Scottish Cup clash between the two, mutual dislike hung heavily in the Edinburgh air. Managers Derek McInnes and Robbie Neilson took verbal swipes at each other. The game ended in a bitter row over sportsmanship. The Aberdeen evening paper — impartial to a fault — ran a headline branding Neilson’s side ‘Horrible Hearts’. Let’s not be prissy here. There is a feistiness to the rivalry between Hearts and Aberdeen, which is terrific to behold. But it’s doing the Tynecastle club no favours. A fire is starting under their feet.
St Johnstone midfielder Murray Davidson recently cast up the number of fouls the Gorgie side concede. Motherwell’s manager Mark McGhee — admiringly, it should be said — also expects a ‘robust style of game’ at Tynecastle today.
No one denies that Hearts fans like big, strong, athletic teams. They have
had a few in the last 30 years. But to paint the current crop as the reincarnation of Don Revie’s Leeds or the Wimbledon Crazy Gang of the 1980s is over the top.
Hearts have given away 292 free-kicks in the SPFL Premiership but, in a supreme irony, one team has conceded more; Aberdeen. They have given away 316.
Four red cards in the first half of the season is all the evidence some need of ‘dirty Hearts’.
It’s an idea managers and supporters of other clubs are only too happy to promote. But that might have more to do with resentment at their success back in the Scottish Premiership. No one who has actually watched them a few times would say they cross the line.
Neilson concedes his team are big. They may even be physical. But in Scottish football — and this is no bad thing — it’s not possible to club opponents to submission these days. Some bemoan the loss of characters in the game. Men like Norman Hunter and Vinnie Jones are remembered with affection. Revered almost.
It’s also true that Scottish football would kill for a Mackay or a Souness right now. But let’s be honest. With Willie Collum in charge, they wouldn’t last five minutes.