WELL done John McGlynn. You've made the right decision.

Took you a bit of time - about six managers' worth - but the dugout you've been stood in is no place for anyone who cares about their integrity or their football.

Raith Rovers will be a better club with you, Hearts will be worse off without you.

And if there's anyone left at Tynecastle like you with even a modicum of self respect? It's time to go out the door too. Get going now before a local branch of Vlasda is built on top of you.

I've spent long enough trying to rationalise what's going on at Hearts. Trying to balance the insanity against their achievements and what the average fan wants from his club. Trying to fathom if the end really does justify the means.

But then you realise you're only excusing the inexcusable because what's going on at Hearts right now is a total and utter shambles.

I remember thinking that a couple of weeks ago, watching their dugout during the Celtic game.

At one point Eduard Malofeev, all whirling eyes and flailing arms, was standing on the touchline ranting at his players, trying to get a message across.

Realising he was in fact speaking Russian he gave up on that and turned and whirled and flailed and ranted the same stuff at his stand-in caretaker director of sporting interpreting Alex Kozlovski.

Who then turned to McGlynn (below) and translated (minus the whirling and flailing) who then walked calmly to the touchline to get the message across.

By which time the ball had been up and down the park twice since they had started and the messagewas pointless anyway.

Tragi-comedy at its finest.

But there comes a point when you have to stop laughing at Hearts and start worrying for them. Monday night at Falkirk. The club is in meltdown, the captain who has led them through two years of strife is AWOL, they've dropped two Scotland internationals to the bench.

And they've blown the three points that would have had themsitting cushy in second place on their own.

It's a time for explanations, for leadership. So what do they do?

"Er, in you go Craig Gordon. Be a good lad, eh? Lion's den, door's second on your right."

It takes a special kind of cowardice to get yourself into conflict then stand in the trenches while you send your foot soldiers over the top.

But that's exactly what Hearts did. Live TV, radio, written press - their keeper did the lot on his Jack Jones.And did so superbly, by the way. No party line, just honesty.

When Gordon was doing the daily papers, though, I turned and asked the head of PR David Southern which of their myriad coaching staff would be joining us to analyse the game.

Laugh? He almost gave himself a hernia. "Ha, I think you know the answer to that one, eh, big man?"

Sadly I did. They have a dugout full of 'em and an overspill in the directors' box for the ones they can't fit in at the side of the pitch.

They have sporting directors, coaches, caretakers, advisers, PRs for the club, a PR for Vlad, you name it. Yet not ONE of them would take the responsibility of talking to the fans.

Because don't forget that's what we are. Media.

Plural of medium. The vehicle between the support and the club. And they did the same on Friday. One of the biggest games of the season today, and Bruno Aguiar and Ibby Tall are tossed in like lambs to the slaughter.

Great guys, I'm sure, but neither of them capable of providing one answer the fans want to hear.

Apart from being against SPL rules that dictate the manager or one of the coaching staff should do this it's just downright disrespectful.

The punters have a right to know what the hell's going on at the club they've invested their hard-earned cash and their emotions in to.

They have a caretaker captain, a caretaker coach standing in for another caretaker coach, a caretaker chief executive.

Hell, who knows who's doing the sweeping up just now?Maybe they even have a caretaker caretaker.

And the irony is, no matter how much of a shambles they have been in a win today could put them in pole position to claim second place and get back into the Champions League.

Sadly that says little about them, more about everyone else.

And you know what? They could win. For 86 minutes they were a better team than Celtic, and only lost out because of the decisions of the whirlingeyed, flailing-armed maniac in the dugout. And in the first half against Falkirk they were the same.

The saddest thing of all, though, is this time last year I'd have been so desperate to see one, or preferably both, of the Old Firm get their comeuppance I'd have been roaring the Jambos on.

Today? I couldn't care less.

Taken from the Sunday Mail