'Lucky number 77 gives Hibs brighter future'

The past few days might have felt like a blur to Martin Boyle. Thankfully for the Hibs supporters, the winger remains a blur to pretty much everybody else, too.

The visitors didn't hammer in the final nail, though. They might have been comfortable but they weren't carefree and they got caught.

Just when you thought the game was up Hibs struck out, Elie Youan ghosting past Craig Halkett and squaring for Boyle to knock in his cross. There were 22 seconds left in the derby when Boyle scored. It was pretty much the last kick.

No pre-season. No game since late June. Not ready to play any part in this game, according to a confidant of manager Lee Johnson. But there he was, wheeling away, drinking in the adulation of the home support.

The prodigal wore the number 77. An angel number, so it is said. Seventy-seven, if you believe in this stuff, is a sign from on high that you are ready to move beyond the mundane and on to the path of happiness.

If you keep seeing it then good things are supposedly afoot. Hibs fans might buy into that theory. They'll be seeing a lot of 77 this season and in seasons to come. They've got their talisman back and even lacking full fitness he's off the mark in the most dramatic way.

Before Sunday, Boyle's last goals for Hibs were the three he scored against Rangers in the League Cup semi-final and the consolation he got against Celtic in the Premiership, which followed his Australia strike that made it 2-1 against Oman in a World Cup qualifier.

That's not just a weight of goals, but weighty goals. After the torridness of recent times, Hibs people might be inclined to think that his pace and creativity can be the thing that ties together a newish team.

As a game it was no epic, but then you'd have been deluded if you went to Easter Road expecting a classic. What was drearily predictable was the missiles that pockmarked the day, the objects thrown in the direction of Alex Cochrane (he was struck) and Jorge Grant (he narrowly, and luckily, avoided being struck).

In pre-season the SPFL bosses got out a metaphorical Sword of Damocles and hinted at wielding it in the event of serious fan misbehaviour. This is an early test.

The derby, well, Hibs had the better of it at the start then that other talisman, in maroon, Lawrence Shankland scored to put Hearts ahead.

It was a slick build-up and then a gorgeous dinked ball from Barrie McKay to his striker. Already you can see the beginnings of a lovely partnership there, the kind of understanding that Shankland failed to have at Dundee United in the Premiership.

The measuring tapes were out to judge where the ball hit his arm in the preamble and whether it was above the level of his armpit (play on) or marginally below (handball). John Beaton said the latter. Johnson, to his credit, made little of it later on. Relief at the equaliser was washing over him at the time in fairness.

Hibs had their moments. Shankland had to hoof one away close to his own line and then Craig Gordon made his trademark magnificent stop. The latest man to wear that 'I can't believe he saved that' look was Youan, who did nearly everything right in directing a forceful header across goal and, he'd have thought, into Gordon's net. The big man didn't just keep it out, he cleared it to safety.

The seeds of the sucker punch might have begun early in the new half. Hearts should have made it two. In rapid order, Shankland and then McKay had attempts that David Marshall - another who is no stranger to extraordinary deeds in goal - dealt with brilliantly. The rest of the half was a relative stroll for the visitors and a grind for the hosts.

Hibs had no control, no composure on the ball, no goal threat. Their accuracy in possession was poor. Boyle appeared just after the hour, but it was only in added time that he started to stir.

Most of Easter Road howled when Rocky Bashiri missed from close range beyond the 90th minute, but there was one last twist.

Having failed to show the urgency and ruthlessness to make it 2-0, Hearts opened themselves up and in walked Boyle, courtesy of some excellence from Youan - who looks more a wide player than a centre forward.

It wouldn't have mattered who scored it, but the fact it was Boyle was Easter Road's dreams writ large. The point they salvaged and the team they salvaged it against was a big part of their delirium, but another part was the belief they're a different side with different hopes when 77 is among them.
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