In Defence Of Big John Hartson.

When Carly Simon wrote “You’re So Vain” she made sure to put in the chorus “I bet you think this song is about you.”

What a dig. It might be the supreme one of all time, a savage assault on the target so great that even his moment of recognition only increased the force of it.

That takes a sublime talent. And it takes a sublime ego on the other side.

I neither have Carly Simon’s talent nor regard the ego on the other end of this as particularly sublime.

I have no intention of using his name.

He will recognise himself just as others will recognise him in it. He wants publicity, and he’s assured it but I will give it to him in only the most limited sense, the way Simon did, as an insult and expression of contempt.

Tonight there are articles about this small fraction of a man launching a broadside against John Hartson for being biased, and for pretending to be a Celtic man in spite of not having been born into that faith.

I have news for this clown; nobody ever is.

Celtic comes to you, or you to it. You wouldn’t recognise that, as you kick with the other foot.

For such a proven Ibrox lickspittle, such a craven, simpering, crawling, fawning, gushing fan-boy of that club to have a go at anyone on the basis of bias would be hilarious if it was not so desperate.

All this guy’s behaviour here amounts to is a pathetic rattling on the bars for attention, the wailing of a toddler not getting his or her own way, a temper-tantrum had in public for the purposes of getting a toy or a sweetie.

Well he deserves this spank on the arse for it.

I have had dealings with this prancing clown before.

During one of his other shameless grabs at attention and self-promotion he made a prediction that was so obviously stone stupid that I very publicly asked him to put his money where his mouth was; obviously he bottled it.

Obviously because that’s what he is, a keyboard warrior launching barbs and fishing whilst hoping nobody calls him out.

But he was, and is, a pathetic coward, and he proved it.

The braying sheep of the Ibrox forums and sites love him, of course.

He is “one of their own.”

When you consider that he is a simple minded gutless wonder that’s not the compliment they evidently believe it to be. As they themselves are largely dumber than the proverbial box of rocks it truly is a case of being damned with faint praise.

Regardless, Hartson is a better man and has certainly carved out the media career that this loon believed he was entitled to. So there is an element of personal and professional jealousy here which has to be recognised and acknowledged.

Of course, there ought to be a much deeper consideration for someone like this, someone who sees Hartson’s success inside the mainstream whilst he wails outside looking up at the full moon.

Hartson is clearly articulate and intelligent and great at what he does; more worryingly for our spineless subject, Kris Boyd is none of those things and he somehow managed to get inside the circle.

And when you hail from a Follow Follow background and can’t even get a job in an industry where that preening, smirking halfwit is on Sky every other week … yeah, I can understand why you might be bitter, why you might lash out and why you carry such a chip on your shoulder and a smothering sense of inferiority.

It’s the one part of you that is self-aware.

Embrace it. Accept it.

Then one day, my foolish friend, you might even find that self-affirmation you clearly crave.