View From The Wing- Hearts 1 Celtic 1

After the jubilation that we gave had from last minute goals this season, it was only karma that we would eventually be undone by a last minute goal. Now, before the game i would have took a point. After the game, well, the second half performance, I'm disappointed that we didnae take all three.

Usually, Tynecastle is awash wie vein popping hatred, bile so yellow it's like an alkies morning glory. Today, after the initial exchanges, the game developed into a scrappy, Sunday pub league affair, wie one team tired after their midweek efforts, another, just a limited team of foreigners and hard working British players. This caused the game and the crowd to become subdued in the December chill.

Not that the Jambos let a pesh game stop them booing nearly every player in a hoops jersey. I mean, they had a lot of excuses. One, it was Celtic. Two, two former heroes, one a legend, were lining up for their foes. Three, two former Hibees on the park. Four, the holy goalie, and finally their anti-Aiden-ness that means, Frank Macca's love child gets roundly abused anytime his streaked hairdo goes anywhere near the ball.

The fact that we stopped them booing the longer the game went on meant we were doing something right. The second half saw us getting to grips, sort of, wie the game, in the sense, instead playing the baw across the back then hoofing it to no one, we played the baw along the back and hoofed it to JVOH and Skippy. Broony, who didnae have his best day, two lung bursting tizer fuelled runs were wasted by poor passes, and Hartley will have creaks in their necks this evening.

Aiden and JiriJaro had not too bad games. In truth, i would struggle to name an outstanding hoop. JVOH was handled well by the SFA lackie in the black and the physical Hearts backline and Skippy looked tired but still waded in wie a poachers goal and took this blogger close to paying the drunken bet that he made by saying he widnae score 15 goals for us this season.

The backline? The direct approach and the useless-ness of the Les Ferdinand lookielikie upfront made Mick and Elvis look comfortable, yes, they had a few pot shots, decent chance in the first two minutes but Hearts were at home, O'Dea made a decent fist of looking like an over-lapping full back, which brings me to oor Gary Caldwell. The panto villain of East End, the widow twankie of parkheid, the man who brought war to the middle East and a man who i defend, today done the indefensible when an act of naivety and folly cost us the points.

After, Arfur had made a superb save, only Caldwell can answer what was going through his mind when he pushed the Hearts player in the back. The Hearts player wisnny in a scoring position and, i think, was only trying to run the baw oot for a corner. No matter, his and Elvis's, laughable protests at the final whistle, if the incident had happened up the other end i would expect a pen. A rash decision that caused us two points.

Still, all in maybe we didnae deserve to win, we never completely controlled the game and it wisnny pleasing on the eye but after a gruelling CL week and a massive CL week coming up, a trip oot of the sess pool of Gorgie, where yer rivals got a doing, wie a point, which was only a point due to yer own failings canny be grumbled aboot.

Aye, it kin. Gary now better score that wonder goal on Tuesday night.

Forza

Ps Goals here