Bonkers Barton Blows It Big Time. His Sevco Career Looks Over.

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Joey Barton’s Sevco career looks over tonight, and it’s ended the way we always thought it might; with a full-scale detonation.

It happened on Tuesday, in training, in an incident involving Andy Halliday. The particulars of it aren’t public yet, but this is not a simple training ground spat which ended with the manager pulling a couple of people apart and sending them back to their respective corners to cool down; he’s been told not to turn up until the club discusses his future.

It’s hard to see how he has one.

A guy like this, he’s simply not worth the hassle.

Barton has been anonymous on the park. This site talked about the now infamous picture of him at the weekend, head down, eyes averted, as Scott Brown stared right through him. He played like a guy who was in town for a jolly, and every match this season has seen the same pedestrian disinterested performance.

Ironically, tonight Warburton is being praised in some quarters for “strong leadership.”

Well, I hate to rain on the media’s parade, but myself and some others pointed out weeks ago that the time for actually getting a grip on this guy was passed the minute Warburton let him away with his idiotic interview on Brendan Rodgers, and a host of tweets and comments about Brown and others. Had he pulled the player aside then, instead of hiding from making a decision, then it might not have come to this, at least not this quickly.

But Barton is a prize nut-job, the neds ned, an idiot who was always likely to destroy what was left hanging on the fag-end of his career. It’s happened in private, but you can bet your bottom dollar it will not end up that way. He’ll be mouthing off about everyone and everything at Ibrox before too long and he might even take a shot at the fans whilst he’s at it.

This has been an amazing few months covering Scottish football’s obsession with this eejit, because in spite of a history of wreckage and turmoil the media and the fans and the club hierarchy were rolling out the red carpet and making him the focus of everything at Ibrox.

That was never going to end well.

Feed the ego and watch it grow.

Then watch it blow.

My only disappointment about all this is that the explosion, the veer into insanity which is suggested by the club’s reaction, didn’t happen where we could all see it.

And so ends the ride, and it was more boring than any of us imagined, but it’s ended the way we all really hoped that it would; with fireworks, albeit muted.

You could not make this stuff up.

Just when I was thinking “Well that was a slow news day …” something else at Ibrox sends me back to the keyboard.

They are the gift that keeps on giving.

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