Fear & Loathing At Rugby Park: For Ibrox fans this season takes another sharp turn into Hell.

“The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.”
– Paradise Lost

These were the words of Satan to his fallen comrades after they were cast out of Heaven, at the beginning of Milton’s epic Paradise Lost. He was attempting to rally his defeated troops, suggesting their fall wasn’t a disaster, but instead a chance to rule over a new kingdom.

“Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven,” became their battle cry.

Yet before this, Satan planted the idea that perception is key: with the right mindset, Hell could be made into Heaven, and vice versa.

Our friends across the city might want to try that philosophy on for size today. Bruised, broken, and beaten, they find themselves further behind than ever. It didn’t matter what the result at Celtic Park was, because as long as they won their match, they would have made up ground. Instead, they are now six points behind Celtic, six behind Aberdeen, and staring down the barrel of a brutal winter campaign.

What a disaster this afternoon has turned into for them. If you’re wondering why I haven’t posted sooner, it’s because I’ve been out celebrating my birthday although that’s not until tomorrow. And if anyone had asked what gift I wanted most, I’d have described something very much like this. What seemed yesterday like a poor result for both Celtic and Aberdeen has now flipped completely, with both gaining a point while the Ibrox club lost ground. It’s the cherry on top of my birthday cake: pain and tears from the Ibrox fans, all thanks to Derek McInnes, of all people, who gift-wrapped it for me a stuck a bow on the box.

There’s an old Chinese curse: “May you live in interesting times.” No club lives in more “interesting times” than they do right now.

During the first half, in which the home side had a goal disallowed by the finest of margins, the Ibrox fans unfurled a banner demanding an end to their current descent. Instead of a turnaround, they were handed a stark reminder that the bottom may not have been reached yet, and perhaps there’s an even stranger sort of Hell awaiting them. If that’s the case, some of them might want to get busy trying to make Hell into Heaven because that’s all they’ve got left.

The situation is dreadful, and it’s only going to get worse as the season drags on. One of the most revealing moments today was looking at their substitutes’ bench and realising that if they found themselves in trouble, there was almost no one there who could change the game. Their squad is pathetically weak, and nobody watching their matches can reasonably think they’re equipped to mount any kind of title challenge, let alone juggle Europe and the League Cup.

That squad of theirs is threadbare, pitiful even, and any funds they can scrape together in January or the summer are unlikely to make a dent. When I look at their squad and the brutal schedule ahead, I can only see things getting worse. Their pain is far from over, and their fate will be sealed long before the trophies are handed out.

And what of their beleaguered manager? His post-match comments were staggering. Blaming individuals is risky enough on its own, but when you single out two of your most influential players—one the current captain, the other the man he was going to make captain—you’re basically asking for a mutiny. Does he even realise how much danger he’s in right now? Surely, he can’t be blind to the fact that he’s teetering on the brink of losing the dressing room, if he hasn’t already.

The fans have already given up on him. The banner from the Union Bears made that abundantly clear, and the venomous online reaction has only confirmed it. The two emotions most rampant over there right now are fear and loathing, and I can’t blame them.

Some of them might try to console themselves by thinking Celtic aren’t as strong as they’ve been in the past. Many will look at yesterday’s match and draw all the wrong conclusions about our supposed “weakness.” But they won’t consider that Aberdeen is a team they should be seriously worried about.

Some Ibrox supporters will grasp the gravity of the situation though. They know this is serious now, and Aberdeen, whose confidence must be sky-high, have every chance of landing a devastating blow on them when they meet next midweek.

The loathing, though, is far worse than the fear.

And there’s plenty of loathing to go around.

The manager is getting it, the players are getting it, the board is getting it.

But who’s really responsible for the state that club is in? If the fans want someone to blame, they ought to take a long, hard look in the mirror.

No other club’s fans so thoroughly enjoy living large and acting entitled. Their supporters have welcomed all manner of spivs and charlatans into their ranks, men with vague, pie-in-the-sky promises, conmen with glittering rhetoric and little else. These fans have been too lazy to do even the most basic homework on who these people were, and they’ve got the gall to blame others for the mess they’re in now.

This is the same board Dave King brought in.

And not one of them ever stops to ask, “Would we have been better off without him?”

Since King took over, they’ve had to watch Celtic win four trebles in a row, five in total, along with a bunch of other silverware. All they have to show for it is a solitary title won during the COVID-affected season.

This is the revolution they wanted. It’s the one they cheered on.

And now that King is back making noise again, some of them are all in favour of handing him the reins once more.

As if they haven’t already shown catastrophic judgement, now they want to plunge headlong into another disaster.

My advice? Forget the struggle.

Stop fighting reality.

Accept where you are, what you’ve become.

Try to make Heaven out of your Hell. Tell yourselves you’re better off like this. And when success does come—though it will be rare and fleeting—savour it for the momentary joy it brings. That’s the only way you’re going to survive this.

I don’t particularly care if they accept this or not, if they adjust to their new reality or keep thrashing about in denial.

I’m going to enjoy every single second of their suffering regardless.

I’ll gloat every time they drop points. I’ll drink down their tears after every failure. And I’ll take great satisfaction in the fury I see on their forums.

They’re in a dark place right now, and the fear and loathing are palpable. That’s how it always is when they have to confront the harsh reality of their situation.

And tonight, they’re in Hell.

Long may they reign there.