The Ibrox crisis is a Trumpian disaster. Which credible person would want to work there?

A few weeks after the 2016 U.S. presidential election, The Atlantic’s brilliant writer David Frum, a former administration official in George W. Bush’s White House, issued a stark warning to those considering working for Donald Trump.

He told them that not only would their names likely be forever tainted with disgrace, but that Trump would almost certainly ask them to break the law. At that point, they’d have a choice between ruining their careers or going to jail.

David Frum was 100 percent correct.

A lot of them saw their careers collapse, and although some later joined the anti-Trump resistance, many found that doors which were once open to them were now firmly shut. Those in the Republican Party no longer trusted them, while those outside the party only needed to know they’d worked for Trump to blacklist them in the private sector.

As Trump heads into the final month of the 2024 campaign, one thing is abundantly clear: he plans to surround himself with the most extreme MAGA supporters for his next administration. Some say this is a choice, but others realize it’s one of his rare moments of clarity—these are the only people willing to work for him now. Everyone else saw the damage done to those who worked for him last time, many of whom, as Frum predicted, ended up indicted.

Earlier this week, I wrote about a Daily Record writer trying to spin the Ibrox crisis by claiming that the departure of yet another high-level executive was an “opportunity”.

I enjoy that kind of delusion, seeing people stretch reality like that. And it turns out he’s not the only one pushing this nonsense.

Yesterday, Barry Ferguson was the latest to trot out this theory, and today someone sent me The Record’s Saturday Jury piece. In it, they too suggested that this is all a blessing in disguise. Who are they trying to convince with such blatant rubbish? I can tell you this: they are not convincing the Ibrox supporters, who know exactly what this signifies.

One of the club’s fan media outlets branded it a disgrace that they are now missing four executive-level positions, and they’re absolutely right.

While the media keeps talking about how close the club is to appointing a new CEO, it’s been months, and they still haven’t done it. Now they also need a new chairman, a head of the academy, and a head of football operations. These are not minor roles.

The media is spinning this as an opportunity for the club to “restructure” at the top, to bring in “quality” replacements for those who have left. But be serious. This is a club in freefall. Who would want to take any of these jobs? Anyone considering it only has to ask one question: why have so many high-profile figures left?

This isn’t normal turnover—it indicates a deep-rooted problem. And the media is bending over backwards to pretend they don’t know it. But they do. And that’s why I use the word “pretend.”

That club looks cursed. It looks like a place where things are going to get much worse, and their fans know it. The media spin makes no difference to how they feel—most of them understand exactly what they’re watching.

Don’t forget: when it comes to the CEO position, they’ve already been turned down by candidates from St. Mirren and Hearts. That’s the level of their ambition, and they couldn’t even land those guys. That’s pretty shocking on its own, yet you still have people like Chris Jack towing the party line, insisting the club is confident of bringing in someone of “high calibre.”

It’s laughable. The last “high calibre” appointment they made was Stewart Robertson from Motherwell, and their fans almost universally despised him.

Anyone taking a job at Ibrox knows the trouble they’ll face. Again, my mind turns to U.S. politics. Who on earth would want to work there? You’ve got Dave King waiting in the wings, ready to criticize anyone who steps into the vacant roles. His idea that these positions should be filled by “real Ranjurs men” is eerily similar to what Trump is doing with his own “real loyalists” transition team. Because who else would want to work in that hellscape?

And King’s not the only problem.

Even if he fell silent, fan media would still tear into anyone presiding over the club’s downward spiral. If you’re sitting in one of those executive chairs, you’ll be blamed for everything. If the strategy is to bring in people to continue with the cost-cutting, they’re going to become deeply unpopular for delivering the bad news. Think about Keir Starmer right now. At least he has the consolation of making history if things go wrong.

If you took over as chairman at Ibrox and presided over a disastrous spell where Celtic keeps winning everything—which is exactly what will happen—you wouldn’t go down in history. You’d go down the toilet. You’d be remembered with the same venom reserved for Whyte, Green, and the other spivs.

It’s no wonder they’re struggling to fill these roles. They’re thankless jobs in an organisation not exactly known for gratitude or friendliness. It’s a pressure-cooker environment, and no matter how unrealistic the fans’ expectations are, those expectations never change. Fail to meet them, and you’ll feel the wrath of the supporters and the media.

I’d rather work for Trump than at Ibrox. At least with Trump, there’s some entertainment value. You’d have a front-row seat to the great national unravelling. At Ibrox, it’s death by a thousand cuts. And frankly, that makes me feel warm and happy inside, watching them suffer.

That club is a nightmare. No amount of money could make me work there. They’re in serious trouble, and anyone on that board will be overseeing a period of prolonged pain, with no upside except their salary. And there are easier ways to make a living.

So, no matter what the media is telling itself, this is not an “opportunity” to bring in world-class operators and transform the place. The people who left did so because they know the structure is leaking like a sieve. It’s not about fixing things; it’s about plugging holes in a sinking ship, knowing every time you close one, another bursts open until you’re out of fingers and waiting for the whole thing to collapse.

They just don’t get it. There’s no happy ending here. No pot of gold at the end of this rainbow. In fact, there’s no rainbow at all—just dark skies and a lot of rain on the horizon.