Hibs prove they’re the best of the rest
- Ian Colquhoun
- May 22
- 3 min read

THE curtain has come down on a remarkable season at Easter Road, the 24/25 campaign having been somewhat Jekyll and Hyde for Hibernian.
Mr Hyde was in control for the first four months of the season, when the Hibees were an absolute shambles in almost every match and became rooted to the bottom of the table, becoming the bookies’ favourites for the automatic relegation spot. However, a spirited performance in a 3-3 draw at home to Aberdeen in late November proved to be a season defining turning point for David Gray and his players and over the next six months or so, Hibs would only lose twice—both times being to Celtic.
Unbeatable Hibs soared up the table and clinched third place with one league match to spare, virtually guaranteeing group-stage European football for Hibernian FC next season, as long as Celtic beat Aberdeen in the upcoming Scottish Cup Final.
Dr Jekyll’s timely replacing of Mr Hyde in late November also coincided with the departure from Hibs of hated CEO, Ben Kensell, around about the same time. By the time ‘Bungling Ben’ left Easter Road, most Hibs fans had realised that the team’s abysmal, depressing three-year slump had begun with his arrival at the club— something just didn’t add up, in the eyes of Hibs fans.
Be that as it may, Hibernian’s revival this season owes everything to manager Gray and to his revitalised squad. Amid the summer and autumn slump, some Hibs fans wanted Gray sacked, but perseverance has paid off for the Easter Road side and they can now reap the benefits of giving cup-winning captain, Gray (above), time to put his own show together.
In Scotland—because of the Glasgow duopoly—to finish third as a non-Glasgow club is the equivalent of being champions. Our domestic league championship is decided almost entirely by money, not solely by footballing prowess. That’s why finishing third in Scotland, to any smaller club, is actually winning the league. Hibs, Hearts, Aberdeen and so on are all middleweights, in a division dominated by two heavyweights. It would be absurd for Hibs to claim to be champions this season, that’s true; yet it would be equally absurd for Celtic and Rangers to see their dominance of the campaign as anything other than a meaningless exercise in punching down, with no real bragging rights, save for those they hold over one another.
Of course, had the first four months of the season seen Hibs play even a little bit better, the chances are that Gray’s men would have finished second this season—that’s mindboggling, in a heart-warming way.
Hibs’ fortunes improved when Jack Iredale became a first team regular, that’s undeniable, but the truth is that, since November, every Hibs player has stepped up to the plate and has looked a new man, confident and able. The players are enjoying themselves again and so are the fans—Hibbies no longer dreaded weekends as season 2024/25 wore on. Given how badly the campaign began, that’s almost a miracle.
Robert Louis Stevenson’s Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde was a novel about the two sides of Edinburgh—one a beacon of light and respectability, the other full of darkness and depravity. If Hibs can carry this success over into the next campaign, Gray’s men could achieve anything—let’s hope that Dr Jekyll is here to stay.
Hibs ended the campaign with a 2-2 draw at home to Rangers, Kieron Bowie and Martin Boyle getting the goals, amid a carnival atmosphere at Easter Road. Rangers fan attempts to ruin the minute’s applause for legendary Hibs owner, Sir Tom Farmer, failed miserably and the stadium was awash with colour and emotion as the Hibee faithful paid tribute to the man who was the father of modern Hibernian FC.
To cap what’s ended up as a rollercoaster of a season for Edinburgh’s green and white army, the Under-18s side and the women’s team both won their respective domestic title races, so, all three of Hibernian’s main teams will be competing in Europe next season. How Sir Tom’s family and the Hibee fans must be smiling—they’ve every right to be—Hibernian FC is back in a good place.
Now, where did I put my beachball?
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