Today The Daily Record’s resident Sevco goon blogger has written another of his barmy, fact shredding, reality bending articles.
This one, believe it or not, seeks to compare Dodgy Dave King, the subject of my latest piece over on Fields (which you can read at the link at the bottom of this one) with the great Fergus McCann.
According to this dispatch from the lunatic ward, Fergus was only here for the money whilst King, who risked prison to dodge paying South African income tax, isn’t interested in that at all. He’s “here for the silverware” because risking your kids “inheritance” really is worth a couple of lower league titles in the footballing backwater of Scotland.
If only King were actually prepared to do so, that is.
See, almost everything about this embarrassing piece is laughable but it’s this assertion that Fergus gave nothing to Celtic whilst King gives everything to Sevco that makes me laugh loudest and longest. The writer of this stuff really has clearly been on the hallucinogenic substances because he sees things the rest of us don’t.
Fergus was, and is, a legend. It’s not for nothing that some want the North Stand at Celtic Park named after him, an honour he deserves and which I suspect would pass with the near unanimous support of the fans.
Fergus saved Celtic; it’s that simple, and I have never grudged him the profit he made from it.
He earned it, he earned every penny of it, because he took risks when no-one else did. He loved our club and he still loves it to this day. He had a plan and he stuck to it and he, as much as anyone, helped us stop Rangers winning ten in a row.
He left behind him a fully functioning machine, with a stadium that was the envy of every club in the land, but most especially the one across the city. With ten thousand more seats, the ground Fergus built was, as he knew it would be, the foundation stone for our modern club and its financial advantage over the debt ridden Ibrox shambles.
This article smacks of jealousy at our vastly superior position and it reeks of the very real, very credible, fear that King is a busted flush and his revolution is held together with blue-tac and sticky tape. Overall, it carries the stench of carbolic soap, disinfectant and all the other scents one associates with a maximum security mental institution.
If you need further proof, consider the final paragraph, which boasts of the “portrait of the monarch” that hangs in the dressing room. I love being reminded of that, of how what Fergus left behind was a forward thinking, progressive and inclusive football club.
What this nut-bar and his fellow fans dug out of Rangers’ shallow grave and hastily cobbled together was, and is, and will be until its own coming internment, a backward, bigoted, narrow minded relic, subservient, fawning, lickspittle and still thinking of itself as superior. One of the constants with these people is that they genuinely believe the world is envious of them. If they could see themselves as others see them they’d be dissuaded of that pretty quickly.
But a lack of self awareness is one of the symptoms of insanity, isn’t it?
(To read The Long Dark Night Of Dodgy Dave King click here.)