ON a night of Champions League razzmatazz beaming into living rooms from Seville to Porto, the eyes of the internet fell on Leith.
Those party poopers at Uefa have ruled that no live fitba’ should hit a TV screen in defiance when the continent’s premier over-hyped competition is also on the box, thus condemning those more fond of blood and snotters rather than Tiki Taka to snore their way through contests with as much cut and thrust as Fred Flintstone’s lawnmower. The savages.
Still, us Scots are an industrious lot who never know when they are beaten, which is more than can be said for Hearts. Despite a tv blackout falling on this Edinburgh derby, around 6,000 people huddled around their phones and tablets to watch a grainy, pixelated and at-times upside down live feed being Periscoped in from some punter inside a sold-out Easter Road.
How they managed to get a submarine down Leith Walk is still a mystery to this scribe who took four hours to navigate the Herald pool car beyond Hermiston Gait.
Around Edinburgh’s quaint marina district, they fair love a blockbuster. Only last month the much-anticipated Trainspotting T2 hit the big screens, the second most-awaited sequel in the part of town out with Hibernian’s Scottish Cup win last May. On the evidence of last night, a trilogy on the field could be coming a lot sooner than T3.
Not even Spud, Begbie or the one Ewan McGregor plays could have got themselves out of this one after Hibs made a whirlwind start. Neil Lennon’s men were brilliant. Ian Cathro’s? Well… not so much. Even losing flying right winger Chris Humphrey after the first cross of the game on just two minutes was not enough to knock those he left behind in green off their stride. Hearts were blitzed and really dead and buried long before Andrew Shinnie, Humphrey’s replacement, sent a third whizzing through the butter fingers inside Jack Hamilton’s gloves.
To be fair to the young Hearts goalkeeper, those in front of him during a woeful first half weren’t much better as they were swept away by not just the team on the park but the whole atmosphere. The majority of the 19,000 inside Easter Road made it sound like 69,000. They chanted about two-in-a-row, they chanted about their love of John McGinn, they chanted about there being only one Ian Cathro.
Finally winning the Scottish Cup again last year for the first time since 1902 probably stands as the best day in the lives of most who sang, danced and generally went radge across three-quarters of the ground. This may not be far off No.2.
Their fever was aroused by the tenacity of the green and white heroes in front of them. From the whistle they pressed Hearts with a ferociousness founded in a primal desire to defend a lump of silverware that took over a century to bring home. Hibs battled here as if they would never see it again if the next crunching tackle was not won, the next pass was not delivered with millimetre precision.
The man responsible of course is Neil Lennon. The Northern Irishman strolled around the Easter Road pitch with his team as The Proclaimers’ Sunshine On Leith rattled out beneath the deafening bellow of a 15,000 choir engulfing them. In the run up this Scottish Cup fifth round replay, Lennon left his players without a name as they scrambled to a 1-1 draw with Raith Rovers. There was no danger of such complacency creeping in here.
Even at 3-0 up, the home manager gesticulated and patrolled his penalty box with all the calmness of a demented Budgie on Ecstasy. His actions were not brought about by fear or worry, but borne out his own mentality that has been embraced by this group of players with the likes of McGinn and Cummings at the heart of it.
Speaking of Hearts, perhaps a stronger response would have come in the second half if Lennon had been walking into the away dressing room. Cathro may be a lauded coach and a technical whizz, but you can’t technically put a rocket up someone’s backside. Well, you know what I mean.
His team did get a lift as Perry Kitchen and the anonymous Malaury Martin were hooked at the break for the energetic Rory Currie and Sam Nicholson, and a natural reaction brought a penalty, but not much else. He is a coach who will always be under scrutiny. The fans who walked out after an hour or jeered their team off at half-time will have even more questions.
But it was a night and game that belonged with Hibs’ desire, not Hearts’ lack of it. In truth the game looked won for Hibs before a ball hit the back of the net on a night that meant so much to those in Leith as they edge closer to Hampden. And a game on the telly.
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