The reign of Romanov has reduced players to chattels

I'm not sure what the Lithuanian word for "transparency" is. If you are a Hearts fan these days, it doesn't really matter, just so long as Vladimir Romanov starts to honour the habit a little bit more.

There may be fat chance of that. In his two years at Tynecastle it has become de rigueur to utilise words such as "mysterious" and "maverick" while referring to the Lithuanian and, as the January transfer window prepares to close, only one aspect about Romanov remains consistent. He is routinely elusive and unfathomable.

On TV the other night my friend and colleague, John Colquhoun, sought to draw a parallel between Romanov's stewardship of Hearts (if that is what it is) and Fergus McCann's time at Celtic.

JC's basic premise was that McCann saved his club's stadium (like Romanov) and sold players (like Romanov) while enduring a lack of success on the pitch.

On the last point, Romanov, while going about things quite scattily, has at least restored a piece of silverware to the Gorgie trophy room.

Alas, this is not a comparison that can be called convincing, on one fundamental aspect. McCann, unlike Romanov, built up a trust with Celtic supporters via his transparency.

Whatever else the little Scots-Canadian was about, he delivered a charter of aims and ambitions for the club in 1994 and said he would spend the next five years of his life trying to deliver them. Through this openness, Celtic's supporters were able to form their judgments about McCann, for good or ill.

Such transparency is alien to Romanov. Indeed, it may even be anathema to him. Contrary to the McCann experience, Hearts fans are constantly left floundering in a murky mist when it comes to working out what their club's guardian is all about. Their latest piece of mystery - and even anxiety - surrounds Romanov's wishes for the current transfer window.

Last year, amid a host of brazen boasts for his club, Romanov claimed he wanted to make Hearts a footballing force, not just in Scotland but in Europe. And yet, here we are at the end of the January transfer window, and he is desperately trying to talk clubs like Rangers into buying Hearts' foremost playing assets such as Paul Hartley.

Those who persist in being charmed and blindfolded to the last by Romanov need to answer the following question: how does wishing to sell your best players aid any ambition to make Hearts a force on the field?

In his almost Soviet-style leadership, Romanov blithely talks of selling goalkeeper Craig Gordon, as if he were a piece of fatstock, to the Russians. Really, Vlad?

And just supposing that Gordon doesn't wish to play in the great footballing centres of Nizhniy Novgorod and Vladivostok? Indeed, just supposing Gordon wishes to remain at Hearts and playing at Tynecastle?

The way this club owner speaks about many of his players should offend those who thought that employees' rights had moved beyond being viewed as chattels.

I've said many times that I find Romanov an irresistibly likeable character.

Armed with his smile and his wacky utterances, it is impossible not to feel warmed and entertained in his company. Brimful with Bilko-style copy, I laughed all the way home from Edinburgh the last time Romanov and I shared coffee.

Charm itself, though, cannot be the ultimate test of a football club guardian. What counts, what makes anyone such as Romanov a rightful hero, is the thriving of the club under him. In the case of Hearts, and the attempted off-loading today of Hartley and Gordon, it is hard to spot anything prosperous on the field.

By GRAHAM SPIERS

Taken from the Herald