Confessions of a fence sitting blogger

I have a confession. The last time our club was in crisis I backed Craig Whyte. Not backed because of information I had to hand – because there was insufficient available – but based on instinct…a hunch. I got it wrong big time. (Those who tell you “confession is good for the soul – are lying – for I feel no better for that confession) Post Whyte I vowed I would never make the same mistake again – hence why I have been sitting on the fence in the latest power play at Ibrox.

I felt that once again a sufficiency of information was unavailable to allow me to make a decision on something other than instinct. So while not keeping myself exactly quiet, I have refused to allow my support to be pledged to anyone. And it’s been an interesting, even at times amusing exercise.

The sight of my fellow blogger John DC Gow, who for terms of simplicity we will say is in the McColl camp, jokingly imploring Graham Spiers to write an article in praise of Charles Green – knowing that with his standing within the Rangers support, Spiers backing anyone would be the kiss of death had me in fits of laughter.

Then there was Jim McColl’s statement, which received the climax building drum roll, only to end up reminding me of a scene from the Wizard of Oz – the bit where the 4 intrepid adventurers reach the Emerald City pull back the curtains and disappointingly declare… “Is that it?”

Please don’t think these 2 examples are an expression of favouritism for the Green camp – I can assure you they are not, but for an old fence sitter like me they provided brief moments of amusement in an otherwise sad chapter.

My mother never used to swear. Ever. But she used the word “vulgar” as a substitute. In fact its use was almost ubiquitous. If someone was crass – my mother would say he was vulgar. If someone was arrogant – my mother would say he was vulgar. If someone demeaned and constantly belittled people – you guessed it – my mother would say he was vulgar. Every time I hear Charles Green speak – I’m reminded of my mother.

Sitting atop my fence I have watched fascinated as both sides exalted their champions. I realised quite quickly that I was comfortable in my neutral position – when people are citing blogs they ridiculed only yesterday, or newspapers which were previously accused of anti-Rangers bias to champion their particular cause then you quickly realise that neither side has a sufficiency of information to deliver a knock out blow.

But it’s time for us to leave the light heartedness behind and become very solemn. Because 3 sources have suggested that our club are on a fast track to a financial abyss. And we as a support have no way of determining whether these allegations are factual or erroneous. Something of a deja vu moment.

People keep telling the Rangers support to be “vigilant”with regard to their club. But how can you be vigilant when you are excluded from the very processes and information which would allow you to maintain any semblance of vigilance ?

I’m not going to say “this has to change”. Because it wont. We have to force this change by whatever means necessary – no matter who has control of our club by the end of, what I suspect may be a very long game of poker. Perhaps the necessary militancy involved in achieving this may seem unpalatable to some.

But for me nothing can more unpalatable than our support, the life blood of this club, its very heart and soul, frantically thrashing around in the dark searching for answers to ensure her survival and well being.

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