SANDY JARDINE was worthy of the accolade bestowed upon him by the country’s football writers when he was honoured with the Scottish Footballer of the Year award on the Sunday evening of May 4 1986.
The 37-year-old former Scotland international full-back had enjoyed a remarkable renaissance at Hearts after leaving Rangers in 1982.
Some may have been convinced his best days were behind him as he was released on a free transfer by the Ibrox club after 18 years’ sterling service.
Jardine teamed up with his one-time Gers colleague Alex MacDonald at Tynecastle as they attempted to revive the slumbering Edinburgh giant.
MY PAL JINKY…Rangers defender Sandy Jardine embraces Celtic legend Jimmy Johnstone after an Old Firm encounter.
MacDonald, a fiery little customer in his playing days as a snarling midfielder, was team boss at the club with Jardine taking over the co-manager role while continuing to play as an astute sweeper as he held things together at the back.
The day before the glitzy evening at the old Glasgow Hospitality Inn – now the Double Tree Hilton on Cambridge Street – the defender was in his usual place in the centre of the Hearts rearguard that faced Dundee at Dens Park in the final day of the 1985/86 league season.
A title medal was within his grasp, a mere ninety minutes away. At the veteran stage of his career, Jardine was aware it was his last chance to win the silverware to add to his three such honours during his Ibrox career.
We all know what occurred that afternoon on Tayside and also in Paisley. It was goalless with seven minutes to play at Dens Park while Celtic were rampaging to a landslide 5-0 victory over St Mirren at Love Street.
A draw would have been good enough for Hearts to lift their first championship in 26 years.
Enter Albert Kidd as a 62nd-minute substitute. The lively frontman fired two goals behind keeper Henry Smith – and the title was won by Davie Hay’s Celtic on goal difference.
The anguish felt by Jardine and all of a Hearts persuasion must have been utterly excruciating. There were images of grown men sobbing uncontrollably, tears flowing down their pain-ravaged features as they knelt in abject misery on the pitch.
They had come in their thousands from the capital for a party and had ended up at a wake.
The following evening, I was among the guests at the dinner at the Hospitality Inn.
CAPITAL PERFORMER…Sandy Jardine in action for Hearts.
Sandy Jardine stood up to accept the well-deserved honour. He looked around the packed audience. Ramrod stiff, he held his acceptance speech in his hands, but he was not reading from any script when he began his address.
“I would like to congratulate Celtic for their title success,” he said to a hushed hall. “They were worthy winners.”
There was a moment’s silence until the SFWA members and their guests applauded his sportsmanship with a fair old verve and gusto.
And there, dear reader, is the difference between class and style.
You cannot buy class.
Jardine must have been hurting like hell. He may have preferred to have been anywhere else on the planet rather than being the centre of attraction to the nation’s scribes and so many other curious observers.
But Jardine still managed to convey his message loud and clear.
I wonder if Derek McInnes or Claudio Braga mentioned Celtic in their acceptance speeches on Sunday evening?
ALEX GORDON
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