Stupid, Stupid Peepul: Connor Barron.

Regular readers will know I’ve done quite a few “series” pieces on this blog.

We’ve had the Keith Jackass series, the Fear and Loathing series, and for a while, The Hidden Hills Madhouse. That last one always tempts me to bring it back, given the number of bizarre claims swirling around.

Now, I think it’s time for a new series: “Stupid Stupid Peepul.” And in this first entry, we’re spotlighting Connor Barron – or more accurately, he’s chosen himself as the unwitting star.

To be fair, this isn’t so much a new series as a continuation of past articles. The goal is to highlight the staggering lack of message discipline at Ibrox and their players’ endless urge to mouth off rather than let their feet do the talking.

If I’d launched this series sooner, there would have been a dozen of them already. Every so often, and all it usually takes is a rare win for someone over there to start yapping, one of these clowns does this. It happens as sure as night follows day. Traps start to flap and the nonsense flows. Barron’s entry into the spotlight just confirms how deep this habit runs.

So welcome, Connor, to the Stupid Stupid Peepul segment on the site.

You may be the first official entry, but you certainly won’t be the last. Over at Ibrox, this sort of public bravado shows no signs of dying down.

Today, Barron is sending out a “warning” to Celtic and Aberdeen, claiming his team “can still win this league.” Apparently, the Ranjurs are coming.

Haven’t we heard this tired refrain enough times already? It’s become so commonplace that our fans mock it openly. When your club’s own slogan has been turned into a punchline, that’s a sign things have gone badly off course.

And yet, they just can’t stop themselves. Which is why I know this will be the first of many in this series, with the next fool always around the corner.

I understand there’s a psychological element to these statements.

Sure, they want to project confidence, to believe in themselves and their teammates, especially when they’re struggling. But the problem isn’t with the belief – it’s the misplaced arrogance. Not confidence, but cockiness. I don’t know Barron’s background or which team he grew up supporting, but he’s certainly fitting in at his new club.

You can believe in your squad without declaring war on every other team in the process. Last season, our players didn’t need to make bold pronouncements when we went through a rough patch. They kept their heads down and let the pitch do the talking.

In fact, during the Mid Season Slump, it was the constant chatter from the other side of the city and the way they behaved which handed us incentive after incentive to beat them. There were times when it seemed that someone over there just must recognise the utter folly in their behaviour, but no they just kept on doing it.

Barron is a victim of two things: the culture at Ibrox and the media machine hyping him up. The press has spun him as some kind of rising star, the next big thing in Scottish football. And it seems to have gone straight to his head. Given the constant reinforcement of Ibrox’s “exceptionalism,” he’s surrounded by people telling him he’s already arrived – and the media is doubling down on that narrative. Naturally, he’s started believing it.

But the reality is simpler and harsher.

His position in their team reflects only one thing: a drop in standards. Barron is held up as one of their brightest stars, but what does that say about their team’s level? He was never indispensable at Aberdeen – a club that was floundering – and yet, he’s a “key player” at Ibrox? Has he improved overnight, or is this just a reflection of Ibrox’s willingness to settle for less?

Barron is, in fact, a symptom of the club’s downsizing, as I noted in my recent article on UEFA’s financial sustainability rules and the squad cap. Instead of recognising this shift, he’s bought into the myth that both he and the club are exceptional.

To see just how misplaced this is, Barron need only glance around at his teammates.

If he’s the star, who exactly is he keeping out of the lineup? Who are his rivals, and what are their merits? The truth is they’re not anything remarkable. This makes his “warning” to us and to Aberdeen rather laughable.

Confidence, of course, is important. Even arrogance has its uses.

Brendan Rodgers has more than a bit of arrogance about him, and he’s earned it. As I’ve said, he treats the media with a mix of ego and contempt – the latter quite justified by the media’s endless baiting.

But Barron? He’s surrounded by players lacking in confidence, led by a manager barely holding things together. Many of his teammates are on shaky footing, some prone to bizarre outbursts – like storming off the pitch mid-game, forcing the manager to sub them. And that’s not even mentioning the Hall of Fame captain who’s been a consistent letdown.

If Barron were half as sharp as he thinks, he’d learn from the chaos around him. Teams in disarray don’t usually take home trophies, no matter how loudly they talk them up. He’d be wise to shut up and focus on the pitch.

But he’s already bought into his own myth. He believes he’s special, he believes his club is special, and the entitlement is already there, fully formed. And that’s precisely why he’s the first entry in Stupid Stupid Peepul – and, rest assured, won’t be the last.