Date: 27th November 2016 at 6:20pm
Written by:

Today a small group of Aberdeen fans brought the above banner to the game.

I really hope they enjoyed their cup final day out. I hope their seats were hard, the stand was cold, the journey home is abysmal and the slapping they got on the pitch lingers long in the memory. They are despicable trash. They belong at Ibrox, with the gutter rats they claim to hate so much. When Aberdeen fans sing “We hate Sevco more than you” I used to nod and say “right on.” Now I realise that some of them are more like the fans of Sevco than they’ll admit.

There is a section of the Aberdeen support that crawled out of a sewer. They are the only club’s fans with an unhealthy obsession with child abuse and who also mock those who died in the Ibrox Disasters. You can put it down to mere jealousy as you like – that’s an undeniable conclusion to draw – but it goes deeper than that, to an ingrained sickness.

Some of them are just scum.

Other clubs have fans with a bit of respect. A bit of class. Most football supporters across the country don’t feel the need to wallow in hatred like this.

In addition, this particular section of the Aberdeen support – if you check them out – use language to describe our club and our fans which has peculiarly religious and sectarian overtones too … another way in which they are more like their Ibrox cousins than they’d care to confess.

I have a lot of friends at other clubs, and many of them are Dons fans.

I can only imagine how embarrassed they are about the degenerate filth that attaches itself to their club.

Hopefully they will forgive me for what I’m about to write, and understand it comes from a place of anger.

I’m glad some of you are suffering today. You earned it and I’m not even talking just about those who brought that piece of shit to the match.

I’m talking about every one of you who sniggered over it, thought it was funny or who believe the Ibrox disaster song belongs in a football stand, anywhere.

Too many of you encourage this stuff. Tolerate this stuff. Give tacit support to this stuff.

So today it’s on you too, and especially in a week where real victims are coming forward to tell their stories and football itself is in the dock over this issue. You thought this was an appropriate time to dredge up an ancient scandal you only half understand? Yes … nice one.

Yesterday The Clumpany wrote a magnificent blog on this subject, which you all ought to have read.

If you were capable of that simple task at all.

This partly springs from a generation of Aberdeen fans who grew up hearing about the “glory days” under Sir Alex Ferguson, when they were more than just a provincial club. But that owes everything to the talents and the skills of one man, because a provincial club is exactly what they are and what they have always been. What drives these folk to madness is that Celtic in particular are more than that; we’ve transcended this island to become a global thing, something bigger than the sum of our parts. I understand why that would make some people jealous … and I sometimes try and tiptoe my way around it.

Not today. Don’t feel like it, seeing that banner.

So yeah, today you were slapped back into your box.

Back into your status as also-rans, as the ugly relation who can’t get a dance at the wedding. Call this West of Scotland arrogance as you like, but the swamp people who brought that banner to the game are what relegates you to that and keeps you at that and they’re why you’ll never get better.

Because that banner is born from a deep seated inferiority complex that you’ll never shake as long as you cling to it. That banner devolved from hate as hate devolves sometimes from ignorance, but always – always – from fear.

And continue being afraid, and angry, and hate-filled as you like because this is never going to change.

Get used to coming to Glasgow and being skelped.

Because now and forever this is how it’ll be.

You’ll enjoy dishing out some punishment to the mob across the city, and for a day I’ll enjoy that with you, but forget catching us.

This shadow extends far beyond Ibrox, and I hope, today, you’re finding it cold and dark beneath it.

Enjoy it. All of it. We took you apart today without breaking a sweat. Your efforts were in vain. You were not at the races. Take your banner and wipe your arse with it, because that’s what we did to your team today, and then we cast you aside with the trash, not even an afterthought.

So fly the flag as you will, guys because it’s the only one you’ll be running up the pole in your lifetimes.

Today I hope you’re suitably scunnered by that fact.