Rangers could win everything - except good will

When Rangers progressed to the UEFA Cup final (a notable achievement) my response was to feel sad - not angry or bitter, just sad.

Many years ago, I tried to buy into that idea of friendly rivalry. As a young guy I worked in a bar and watched from the other side as people made fools of themselves on both sides. I got embarrassed by some Celtic fans who could NEVER see that their team had been beaten by the better side.

And, of course, there were times when I had to step in when the regulars were arguing because I knew that there came a point when the banter and debate would turn to drink-fuelled rage, not necessarily fighting but all sorts of offence caused.

Those were in the "sack the board" days and Celtic fans had to stand for all sorts of interpretations of "We are the peepul". I didn't find it easy but then I had the opportunity to watch people with their crimson faces and veins popping spluttering all sorts of invective as if that made it any better. I resolved that however much I cared, I wouldn't get like that. I even hoped that somewhere, some time, in some company, I could view this as a sporting rivalry that involved banter and laughs and mutual respect.

But when I say it makes me sad, it's because I was confronted with the reality that I was kidding myself.

When Rangers played Leeds United, I genuinely decided that I would be behind Rangers. The thought of the English champions cuffing the Scottish champions and the English media AGAIN sneering at the inferiority of all things Scottish was motivation enough to suppress my natural instinct to support ANYONE against THEM. And deep down, I hoped that I might feel that way again in future. I guess I was looking for a new perspective.

But then they got the result they wanted and when we should all have been celebrating together, the songs came out about being "up to our knees in Fenian blood", and about Celtic of course. And worse, I was privvy to so many of the conversations between Rangers supporters themselves at the bar and it instantly became about "Taigs" and every other pejorative term about Catholics, the Irish and Celtic.

I remember being shocked by three guys standing at the bar talking about the supposed increase the Catholic population in certain areas - I had never even imagined that people really mused on things like that.

One guy said "they" were increasing in Drumchapel. His pal looked confused and said he hadn't heard anything. "Have ye never heard 'the Catholic Drum'?" I was dumbstruck.

Even amongst the regulars, I came to realise that they didn't want people to share in their success or to join them in celebration – the recognition they demanded, by “giving them their due” they meant they wanted Celtic supporters to bow down before them in acknowledgement of their supremacy.

And that night something happened that I had become used to over the years, especially after Rangers games. I was woken up by someone shouting "F the Pope". You see, I lived across from a Catholic church on a main road. I sat up in bed that night thinking "Who am I fooling? These people will never respect me, who I am, what I value or even my right to a private space where I can recognise or express these things out of view of anyone who may object – why ever the hell they should.

I was reminded of that last night when I popped into my local after the game. A chorus of boos piped up and I looked at the TV to see pictures of Giovanni Trappatoni holding an Ireland shirt.

Then in walked a guy I speak to regularly – a nice guy (I’ll call him Gordon). The first time I realised Gordon genuinely was a Rangers fan was on “helicopter Sunday” when I went into my local and he was drunkenly singing “Hello Hello” and a few other songs. Previously, he had told me that his only interest in football was in following Scotland. I took it with a pinch of salt but was genuinely disappointed to see the reaction that a sudden unexpected victory prompted but I was older and wiser than before and got over it.

I made it my practice in talking to him to skirt around Celtic or Rangers ever since and we have got on well. I even caused disgust in another friend when I helped Gordon with something he needed for his Masonic lodge. On many occasions he has emphasised that there is no bar on Catholics in the Masons and even been clear that he would be happy to sponsor me for his lodge, something I took as a compliment.

So when he came in, what was his greeting? He stood at the door and sang “Hello”! Just one “hello” but we knew what he meant. Then he instantly gravitated towards the same guys who had been booing the sight of an Irish shirt.

Later, after people were drifting home, he came to chat to me and, as I have made my practice, I was gracious about his team’s achievement and more importantly his right to enjoy the occasion.

After a while, someone said “not got a song tonight?” (He is notorious for his Tartan Army tunes). Gordon replied: “You wouldn’t like the songs I would sing tonight.” I couldn’t help being disappointed – and just feeling rather sad.

You see, the “nice guy” I referred to really is that – and a good man who helps anyone in any way he can. He is also intelligent and capable of articulating the more subtle, complex sentiments that many men seem to struggle with.

But if guys like Gordon (and I have met many like him) can’t enjoy a Rangers win without considering it a natural response to offend the people who share his city, what hope is there that Scotland will ever be better?

We complain that the Scottish media have stood back and ignored abuse of Catholics and the Irish but the truth is that two sentiments are at play there: conscious prejudice and the narrow-minded oblivious state that cannot see anything that has been the norm in Scottish society is inherently wrong. They can see this looking outwards at racial, national and religious prejudice in other countries but have been shaped by an atmosphere in Scotland that normalises aberrant behaviours.

So, to Rangers, enjoy the occasion. But until you learn to win with dignity, to recognise success in a positive way that doesn’t involve claims of cultural supremacy, I cannot wish you well.