There’s No Place Like Home
New writer Robin Erskine gives his views on the first week at Hampden.
Ibrox, baby. It’s just different.
As the sound of Ibroxonia (is that what it’s called?) rang around the sparsely populated National Embarrassment that is Hampden Park this evening, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of detachment. A growing sense of displacement. A disconnect.
For the third time in eight days I made the trek to Mount Florida to sit in the third different seat to watch a somewhat different Rangers team.
Last week’s Motherwell match afforded some home comforts: well kent faces, pals and sparring partners alike, brought some normality but didn’t manage to mask the uncomfortable truth. We are far removed from where the heart is and, in many ways, very far from where we all wish to be.
The sight of ‘peanut heid’ – a man whom I had hoped to avoid in the CR1 to West Stand reshuffle – brought this clearly into focus. A known enemy of understatement, his wild gesticulations and unwavering confidence in his own ability to explain, in great detail and volume, exactly where the players and management are going wrong, was textbook. However, it had the awkward strangeness of a kid seeing his teacher in a supermarket. All the component parts are there but something is awry.
Disappointment on Tuesday in the North Stand followed by a fairly routine win viewed from the South Upper on Saturday did little to improve the mood. Apathy and a desire to protest against our current predicaments- coupled with the general ball-ache of getting in and out of Hampden – have been cited as contributing factors to the falling attendances we have witnessed. These emotions felt by many of the support and their consequent actions are entirely valid.
The problem John Bennet has is that, unlike Dorothy in Oz, he cannot simply click his brown brogued heels three times to restore and reset. Decisions made at board level over the past three years have brought us to this point. Decisions made with neither heart nor courage and often, it would seem, without engaging the brain have created a yellow brick road strewn with potholes, dog turds and south side hipsters.
Unfortunately, however, it is a path we must tread.
It came as a surprise to absolutely nobody that many players needed to be moved on. In fact, I’d wager that the majority of the support actively sought this over the summer. It was not news that we needed to refresh the squad and, more importantly, the first eleven with younger, hungrier players who, in the future, could plausibly support the notion that we have a functioning player trading model. What has surprised some, it seems, is the precarious nature of the financial balance between the two.
And herein lies the issue. Our erstwhile munchkins-in-chief, Wilson and Beale (sanctioned and championed by current board members), have left a legacy of poor performing, highly paid players who have become liabilities both on the pitch (when they can make it) and off. And as much as we would like to, we cannot blame the players as they continue to fulfil the obligations of the contracts Rangers offered.
But when pressure builds ventilation is required. Anger needs a target but there is a concern that the frustration we are all feeling is currently being misdirected. It is difficult to see what more Clement can do at the moment. Despite received wisdom, I would argue there is a definite style of play – you might not like it or think that the players can’t execute it, but it does exist. All of the new guys who have played thus far have shown moments of real promise. Away from Ibrox, Clement and the players need us more than ever. We need to reconnect.
Ianis was right. Ibrox is different. It is a place which brings us together and forces others asunder. It can be beautiful yet brutal; absurdly angry yet full of warmth. For me it is the epitome of the heady mix of the sacred and the profane, a place which has housed some of our dearest and most palpable memories. We all love it. We all miss it. We need it back.
In the meantime, despite our detachment, we need to reconnect. Who knows? This time next week we might have four new players…
So, in the spirit of togetherness, put on your brown brogues or ruby slippers (everyone/anyone, remember), click those heals three times and join with me in pleading
There’s no place like home.
There’s no place like home.
There’s no place like home.
