Sunday, May 7, 2017. Heart of Midlothian host Aberdeen.

The final match in front of the Tynecastle Park Main Stand. The famous stand designed by Archibald Leith and erected in 1914. It stood for 103 years.

Next month, February 2024, will bring the opening of the Tynecastle Park Hotel on the second floor of the new Main Stand. The culmination of a project that may never have been possible as one steward of the club tried to take the club out of Gorgie and another left it on the brink of extinction.

What you are set to read is an updated version of an article that appeared in issue 3 of Nutmeg - The Scottish Football Periodical which has just celebrated its 30th issue - nearly seven years ago. It's a celebration of one of Scottish football's great football stadiums - the greatest in the eyes of this writer - and a sorely missed stand.

READ MORE: The Hearts season so far: Naismith, Shankland, Celtic, banners and progress

 Heart of Midlothian welcome Motherwell to Edinburgh. It is 18 years on from the sale of Tynecastle and 6,346 uninterested souls are rattling around the confines of Murrayfield’s West Stand. 

Pre-match, the dulcet tones of Hector Nicol play over the tannoy. ‘Away up in Gorgie at Tynecastle Park . . .’ A bi-weekly reminder. 

‘This is my story, this is my song, follow the Hearts . . .’ the words fade into the dreary Edinburgh sky. No longer do they reverberate around Tynecastle, rousing the home support. 

The game begins, and the only noise which interrupts the shouts and calls from the players on the pitch is emanating from the drum of the Motherwell Bois in the away ‘section’. 

The ‘Gorgie’ side are once again scrambling around in the lower reaches of the top flight. Inspiration is once again lacking. It has been lacking in these parts for nearly two decades. Passion, anger, excitement have long been replaced by indifference among a disenfranchised support. Hearts fans, not slow to show their displeasure towards their players, can’t even bring themselves to muster a groan. Even their feelings towards referees, still relying on the pernicious VAR, and opposition players can best be described as taciturn. 

Motherwell edge ahead in the first half.  The ‘home’ support remains undemonstrative. A second goal for the Steelmen late in the second half finally provokes feeling, one of relief. They can finally head for the exit, leaving behind their insignificant seat – one which has no attachment, no meaning, they know they can park their backside on a different one in two weeks’ time. 

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Those still making the pilgrimage to the home of Scottish rugby do so as a chore. The last meaningful crowd the stadium pulled in was a United Rugby Championship encounter between Edinburgh Rugby and Glasgow Warriors. 

The venue, location and general feeling around the club are discouraging factors. Brought upon them by a decision by Chris Robinson and his view that Tynecastle, the club's spiritual home, was not-fit-for-purpose. 

Not quite a dystopian parallel, but one which is incredibly bleak. Who knows what the future held in store for Heart of Midlothian had Robinson managed to force through the sale of Tynecastle? 

Hearts fans are grateful for an intervention that changed the future of the club. One which saw glory return to Gorgie, albeit sporadically, but also left the club on the precipice. However, it was an intervention that ensured Hearts remained in Gorgie. One which has kept Hearts at Tynecastle.

It was 2004. Hearts were in need of a white knight. This was a time before sheiks from the Gulf and hedge-fund money from the States. There were few realistic possibilities within the Edinburgh community. What was wanted was a wealthy oil tycoon. But anyone of the stature and pockets of Roman Abramovich was attracted to the big names and potential for globalisation in English football. 

Supporters had to put their trust in an unknown. A Russian-born Lithuanian businessman who had previously shown an interest in both Dundee clubs and Dunfermline. They had to trust Vladimir  Romanov. 

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His entrance at a meeting, held in early January 2005, may have been scripted as if it was part of a reality show featuring a cast of nonentities, but it had the desired effect. "The room exploded in spontaneous applause," said one report. A 10.3 per cent stake in the club had allowed him to make such an arrival having called for an emergency general meeting to halt the sale of Tynecastle to Cala Management for around £22 million, endearing himself to thousands of fans in the process. His right-hand man Sergejus Fedotovas addressed the room with some fans donning cossacks, quoting the Hearts song in his opening before going on to say "Murrayfield is a fine stadium but home is here, at Tynecastle".

By February 2005, the club had confirmed to the Stock Exchange it had pulled out of the sale of Tynecastle to Cala. The success tasted all the sweeter because, despite the Hearts board writing to shareholders to vote against Romanov’s proposal, it is understood Chris Robinson had to back the proposition as per the terms of the future sale of his 19.3 per cent stake in the club to the Lithuanian. 

Romanov’s presence and subsequent ownership of Hearts deserves its own, lengthy tome, but like him or loathe him he, along with Save Our Hearts, can be regarded as saviours. Protectors of more than 100 years of tradition and history. Protectors of Tynecastle and a club intertwined with the Gorgie community. 

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Walk along Dalry Road, you come to a crossroads. A left onto Henderson Terrace takes you to Diggers. The road straight ahead leads you past the Ardmillan Hotel towards leafy Edinburgh. Murieston Road is a sharp right and you can eventually find yourself at Murrayfield. A more conservative turn brings you onto Gorgie Road. 

The now-closed Gorgie City Farm is on the left, by which time stanchions, rising into the sky, come into view. Past the pub formerly known as Robertson’s Bar, under the rail bridge and Tynecastle Arms is straight ahead. Take a right at the pub onto McLeod Street. Within 50 yards, there it stood, in all its glory. Three steep stands towering high above the ramshackle Main Stand. 

An outdated, tiring, overworked, creaking Main Stand. The only modern facet, the Hearts crest, lit up. It was confirmation to visitors: You are standing in the Heart of Midlothian.

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Even before the bulldozers rolled in at the end of the 2016/17 season to reduce it to rubble, it was changing. Before, large parts were hidden from view by buildings – a nursery, adult education centre, offices and the club’s ticket office and shop – and not forgetting an imposing tree, which reached above the stand. 

At the original time of writing, the shell of the new stand would soon take shape. Then, more than ever, fans were taking a detour on their march to the ground to take snapshots. Others took the opportunity to sit in it one more time, even if their season ticket was elsewhere. The last chance to savour a stand that had been there since 1914.

Tynecastle is home to Heart of  Midlothian, but the first 12 years of existence was an itinerant adventure around Edinburgh. The East Meadows in the city centre was used during the club’s infant years, but due to expanding crowds bigger matches were staged in the south of the city at Powburn Park, not far from Cameron Toll shopping centre. The club then secured a pitch at Powderhall  Grounds, around a mile from where Easter Road is now situated.

In 1886, the club secured tenancy of an area which would soon become Tynecastle Park, the pitch laid at a cost of £200. Wooden stands would be erected, but as the club grew in popularity it was decided in 1913 that a new Main Stand was required, at the cost of between £5,000 and £6,000. Enter Archibald Leitch, the country’s foremost stadium architect. 

By the time plans were submitted and principal contractors, Redpath Brown Limited and J Duncan & Sons, were in place the cost had increased to around £8,000, forcing the club to raise funds through the sale of Percy Dawson to Blackburn Rovers for a then British record fee of £2,500.

READ MORE: The making of Hearts' 150th anniversary kit: UEFA rules, release video, huge demand

It was only partially completed when Hearts saw off Celtic in front of 18,000. By the time the building of the stand was finished in October 1914, it was one of the most modern in Scottish football, yet that excluded several items that were part of the original proposals. The price continued to rise and the outbreak of the First World War brought about a reduction in fans through the gate. But football wasn’t suspended and that may have just saved the club, with the eventual cost of the Main Stand rising to £12,178, more than two times the expected cost. An investment that stood for 103 years. 

Yet, there was every possibility it would only remain for a little over two decades.  Prior to the Second World War, the club looked at relocation with a possible site at Saughton Mains of interest. But the cost and the war saw Hearts stay put in Gorgie. 

By the time the Main Stand had reached its platinum anniversary admission was £1.80. A sponsors’ lounge had also been incorporated. 

Through the late 1980s, the club was continually making improvements to the stand, while the rest of the stadium remained terracing. The fans, not for the last time, aided such progress, taking up a season ticket promotion. This provided the necessary funds for the family enclosure, holding 1,000 spectators. This was increased by 500 in 1987 as the tunnel entrance was repositioned, giving it the off-kilter angle towards the halfway line which remains today. 

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However, speculation of a move away from Gorgie reared its head under the stewardship of Wallace Mercer. "It was his vitality which helped revive Hearts when the club faced extinction," wrote Mike Aitken. 1990 saw Mercer attempt what is viewed as a hostile takeover of rivals Hibernian. Aitken also wrote: "Mercer believed the emergence of just one professional club in Edinburgh, playing in a new, purpose-built stadium at Hermiston Gait, was the way forward".

The internecine proposal thankfully was thwarted but it did not prevent Mercer from searching for a new home. An out-of-town stadium at Millerhill, Straiton or even Ingliston were all mooted, leading to Mercer battling with officials at the City of Edinburgh Council. Resistance came from the Hearts support who were thankful for greenbelt restrictions that prevented such a move.

A new century, a new proposal. The club was on the hunt for suitable sites for a ground, possibly sharing with Hibs. The issue rumbled on for years, with fans, through the Save Our Hearts campaign, making sure their voice was heard as to what their preference was. Tynecastle was where they belonged. Home games saw demonstrations against the board and, more pointedly, Chris Robinson. Marches took place before games, chants and signs during games, and protests after it. Season 2004-2005 was to be, without hyperbole, a defining moment in the future of both Tynecastle and the club. The transition to Murrayfield had taken shape, with Hearts holding UEFA Cup games at the stadium on the other side of the Western Approach Road. Games against Braga, Schalke 04 and Ferencvaros attracted 71,657 fans. 

More room, a higher class of stadium, fancy programmes and greater food selection. None of them convinced supporters they should leave Tynecastle. The general feeling was that players missed the  Tynecastle effect.  

READ MORE: Eduard Malofeev: The story of the infamous Hearts interim - Rants, Rage, Riccarton 3

Then Vladimir Romanov took centre stage. He may have wanted to be director, producer, lead actor in his own play. He may have been controversial, slightly unhinged, idiosyncratic, but he tried to do right by Hearts. To begin with at least. 

Grandiose plans were drawn up and talked about, for both on and off-field activities. He talked of trophies and success, he talked of glory. He stirred emotion. Fans want to be able to hope and believe, they want their feelings and emotions to come to the surface. It may have been ephemeral but he provoked these feelings and emotions before the doubts crept in. Serious doubts. 

Few ideas were more awe-inspiring than plans for the new Main Stand. A behemoth that would see Tynecastle’s capacity rise to 25,000, including a hotel and leisure facilities. But before then, although the club would still play their European games for the 2006/2007 season at Murrayfield, the capacity was reduced so that the pitch would meet UEFA requirements. 

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Despite the imbroglio and maelstrom of bafflement surrounding Hearts, the 12,000-seater proposition looked possible. The club spent millions on purchasing land and buildings around the ground. A model of the renovated ground sat in the foyer of the ticket office. Plans were released in  2007 with an announcement involving former deputy CEO Pedro Lopez and AFL Architects Director Phil Osborne. The cost of the project really should have been a sign that this whole situation was cockamamy: £51 million. Two numbers that would eventually, under Romanov, become special.

Weeks became months and months became years with little visible progress. A new decade began and it was announced that the club was scaling back because the plans were too ambitious. If there was an award for stating the obvious it was all but wrapped up by the hierarchy at Tynecastle. 

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While a notion of sensibility had returned to the playing side by 2010, it was back to square one off the field as the club did not rule out a possible ground share with Edinburgh Rugby at a new sports facility in the city. 

Despite a second Scottish Cup and a draw at Anfield, the Romanov Revolution was now the Romanov Farce as Hearts headed into administration with the dilapidated Main Stand still untouched, but still standing. 

Now, however, the concern didn’t surround remaining at Tynecastle, it concerned remaining Heart of Midlothian Football Club. Those involved with saving the club, taking it out of the hands of  Romanov, out of the hands of administrators and back into the hands of fans, talked of the quite perilous state the club was in. There were “last-minute hurdles” and the case of taking “two steps forward and one step back”, according to now chairwoman Ann Budge. 

But through the tireless work of a band of people, and the determination and finance provided by thousands of fans, Hearts emerged from the dark into the light. A light which, even if it flickers every now and then, shines brighter. 

Through Budge, the Foundation of Hearts and many groups and individuals, the club is back where it belongs, in the upper echelons of Scottish football, and for the first time in many a decade, financially stable, striving to move forward as one, on and off the field.

READ MORE: What next for Foundation of Hearts: Pledge target, board changes, fan opinion

None of which was more evident than on Wednesday, October 12, 2016. 

“Sixty-two minutes of talks inside the Dean of Guild courtroom at Edinburgh’s City Chambers ended with a moment Hearts had waited 12 years for: Planning permission for Tynecastle’s new Main Stand was officially granted via a unanimous verdict,” wrote Barry Anderson in the Edinburgh Evening News. 

It will go down as a notable day in the club’s history.

The timescale outlined that by October 2017 fans will be greeted with a state-of-the-art Main Stand with 7,290 seats, taking Tynecastle’s capacity to 20,099, incorporating offices, hospitality lounges, a roof terrace, a directors’ suite, modern dressing rooms, media facilities, ticket kiosks and Tynecastle Nursery School. Giving the stadium its continuity is architect Jim Clydesdale, the man behind the design of the three other stands.

Of course, it wasn't that straightforward. There was the whole farrago around seats not being ordered, as reported by The Scotsman, and the first game was pushed back on more than one occasion.

Hearts had played two of their four disastrous League Cup group stage fixtures in front of a Main Stand still being built. Nine of the first 13 league fixtures were played away from home with the other four taking place at Murrayfield, a reminder of what could have been. 

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The stand eventually opened against Partick Thistle on Sunday, November 19. This writer remembers looking around at one fan in Section N holding their seat above their head before the game kicked off after it had fallen off. While due to Covid it has taken even longer to complete the stand.

But fundamental to Hearts staying in Gorgie was the redevelopment. Yet, while fans were eager to see the ‘completed’ Tynecastle, the old stand, to many, has been sorely missed. 

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For its entire existence, it has been the outlier, the black sheep of Tynecastle. For 80 years it was the ‘modern’ part of the stadium. But, following the Taylor Report, top-division clubs had to have an all-seater stadium in Scotland, as per the insistence of the Scottish Football League. That prompted the renovation of the north, south and west areas of the ground between 1994 and 1997. In a matter of three years, the Main Stand went from modernity to archaic. Still the odd one out. 

But with the Roseburn, Wheatfield and Gorgie stands all being identical, it was left to the Main Stand to add and improve on Tynecastle’s character. The stand was full of intricacies. There were the seats that extended past the by-line to the right, while there was the sense that the spectator was sitting on wooden bleachers.  

Wooden owls sat perched on the girders,  straining to keep the roof at bay, to scare off pigeons. Netting stretched across the whole stand to make sure debris did not come down on the fans, something which failed when Liam Smith cannoned a clearance straight up toward the roof. 

Traveling fans, opposition players and journalists are so unequivocal about this atmosphere, something which does get overplayed. In recent seasons this ‘special atmosphere’ has bordered on myth, with an air of expectancy taking over, at times acting as a burden. But when it rocks, it rocks. As if every fan in the ground has a loudspeaker and singing in perfect unison. There was a concern it wouldn’t be heard again before the renovation took place. Until Rangers came along under the floodlights. Sensing a special evening, the ground found its voice, a cacophony emerged. That special atmosphere reappeared. 

While the steep stands of the Wheatfield,  Gorgie and Roseburn keep the sound trapped inside, allowing it to bellow, it was the Main Stand that acted as the lungs, the power, the driving force. Like an aging rock star, clearing his throat for one last tour, one last set, one last song. 

A goal scored and those seated in the Gorgie stand appear reluctant to even leave their feet. Whereas the Main Stand appeared to possess a ‘bounce’. A big goal leads to all sense of civility being lost in a frenzy of passion; a mangle of bodies, middle-aged men hugging other unfamiliar middle-aged men because another man has put a ball in a goal. 

There is always a sense of adventure sitting in the Main Stand. The tight turnstiles, and even tighter corridors, like venturing through a Roald Dahl novel, a concealed attic opening up around you. John Robertson wrote in his autobiography of stumbling across a room filled with treasure, Hearts memorabilia that is. Memorabilia that had been forgotten about. 

When Tynecastle consisted mostly of terracing the ‘hardcore’ fans took up residence in the ‘Shed’. But as it evolved into an all-seater, Section N – lower left as the camera looked at it – became home to the Apache element. Fans entering turnstile 38, turning past the antiquated toilets were greeted by maroon paint which reminds fans to 'BEWARE OF PICKPOCKETS’, a foreboding warning for Section N virgins. But eventually greeted by light, a cupboard, used as the catering facility appears on the right, then up a small flight of steps and the Main Stand, and Tynecastle, opens up in front of you in all its glory. On the other side of the stand was the pie stand where you could still stand and watch the match unfold in front of you.

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Many would have loved for the Main Stand to stay and decay along with it - this writer included. But it is all in the name of progress, and the bigger picture means remaining in Gorgie, remaining at Tynecastle. A key tenet of the community. A proper ground, beside proper pubs, in a community, part of the community, not a lifeless bowl stuck out on the periphery of the city. 

Why were fans so adamant about staying when the club was mired in debt with the Cala sale a viable option to break free from a noose wrapped tightly around the neck? Fans were unsure of the future at Murrayfield. They didn’t want an out-of-town stadium. They wanted to remain as the heart of Gorgie. The Heart of the community. The Heart of Midlothian. Fans wanted to work their way along from Haymarket, past Dickens and Bensons. Fans wanted to stay in Stratties, Diggers and the Tynecastle Arms until the last possible moment.

They wanted to drink in the park ahead of an early kick-off. People wanted to queue outside the Gorgie Fish Bar. Walk, waddle and wade through the fans going every which way to get to their turnstile. They wanted to obstruct traffic. They wanted to breathe in Auld Reekie. Breathe in that smell. Gorgie is home. Tynecastle is home. Hearts belong at Tynecastle. Hearts belong in Gorgie. 

Tangible evidence has now risen in place of the old Main Stand confirming Heart of Midlothian Football Club’s place and future in Gorgie. 

The new Main Stand signaled a new chapter, but there will always be the memories and feelings of the old stand past.

Be sure to check out Nutmeg, a quarterly publication with some of the finest writers and best writing about Scottish football. It recently celebrated its 30th issue!