Scottish Celtic fans have grown up surrounded by craziness. We don’t need The Record to tell us it exists.

As the world braces for the election tomorrow, I’ll be writing about it in the morning. Meanwhile, the Daily Record decided to amuse itself—and perhaps rile us up—by sharing a report claiming that 25% of Scots would vote for Donald Trump.

It’s presented in the paper as if this is a genuine shock.

Let’s break it down. First off, this isn’t original Daily Record material; it was lifted from The Times in London, which cited a survey by Norstat, a market research firm rather than a polling organisation. Right away, that’s a red flag.

And then, there’s the wild claim that this somehow “proves” Scotland isn’t a left-wing country. That’s laughable. Yes, the right has lurched further right in recent years, and I wouldn’t be all that surprised if 25% of people here were sympathetic to reactionary views. Conservatism itself has become so reactionary that it’s warped into a new shape entirely.

But the real point is how the Record presents this supposed finding, as if it’s earth-shattering. Why, exactly, should the 75% of sane Scots be surprised? People who live here know well enough about the darker undercurrents that exist.

This is a country where sectarianism and anti-Catholic hatred have deep roots. It’s a country that, while outwardly friendly to immigrants, also houses a club across the city whose identity is based on ethno-nationalist supremacy. I don’t know where this 25% would have come from, but I suspect there’s more than enough lurking prejudice to fuel such sentiments. Not every Ibrox supporter is a lunatic, but a noisy subset surely is.

When you look at Trumpian politics, what do you see?

At its core, Trumpism is about worshipping a demagogue—a proven liar, a conman who still manages to drag a good portion of people along with him into the gutter. And you don’t need to look far to see a similar figure worshipped by some across the city. Dave King—con artist, liar, and yet a man who still has his cheerleaders amongst the Ibrox fanbase.

Trumpism is also notorious for bending facts into unrecognisable shapes, for distorting the truth to suit its own ends. We all know of an institution operating under similar principles: the club at Ibrox, alongside its merry band of sycophants.

Together, they daily engage in the task of twisting the world to fit their warped view, spinning lies, half-truths, and rumours in defence of their club.

Trumpism rejects experts, rejects facts, and instead offers wild, fantastical solutions to problems that require genuine understanding to solve. Sound familiar? The Ibrox club’s camp is rooted in this same distrust of reality, peddling fantasies and nonsensical answers to their ever-growing list of issues. “Magic money trees” don’t even begin to cover it.

Then, there’s the inner circle of crazies surrounding Trump: JD Vance, Stephen Miller, Corey Lewandowski, Steve Bannon—the list goes on. Ibrox has its own roster of wild-eyed lunatics, like John Brown, Alan Hutton, Barry Ferguson, Neil McCann, Kenny Miller, and, of course, Kris Boyd. Collectively, they could hardly muster a single coherent thought, yet our media still goes to them as if they’re fonts of wisdom.

Trumpism thrives in its own twisted media bubble, with entities like Fox News dispensing bias and delusion. Ibrox exists in a similar echo chamber, with its media enablers feeding the faithful just what they want to hear.

And then there’s the conspiracy obsession. Trump’s camp has its fair share, but it’s nothing on the feverish belief amongst Ibrox fans in an “unseen Fenian hand” manipulating everything against them. They’ve built entire enemies lists, accusing even those who try to tell them the truth of being complicit in a grand anti-Ibrox conspiracy.

Are we meant to be shocked that 25% of Scots might support Trump? I wish I could be. But it doesn’t surprise me, not in the least. Some of my fellow citizens are absolutely off their heads, and frankly, it’s depressing. At times, it’s infuriating.

There’s little difference between Trump ranting about immigrants supposedly eating cats and dogs and Ibrox fans chanting about being “up to their knees in fenian blood.” These things occupy the same dark moral space, and they echo one another.

Yes, we’ve got plenty of people here who thrive on hate, who inhabit a fantasy world, who reject facts and embrace absurd conspiracy theories. The figure of 25% may be a touch high, but we know these nativist rats are out there. If you grew up Catholic, Irish, or both in Scotland, you’re well aware of the lunatics among us, people who cling to backward views and primitive ideas.

So of course they’d vote for Trump. They are Trump. They’ve been “doing Trump” long before he even existed as a political figure. But they don’t belong in any serious national debate—frankly, they’re too dense to take part in one. They make noise from the fringes, and that’s where they belong. And, if we’re lucky, that’s where they’ll stay.

I know this much: their numbers will dwindle when their link with that club is severed for good. When the club at Ibrox can no longer sustain their delusions, when even they realise the fantasy is gone, they’ll drift away, and we’ll be left wondering where they end up.

But for now, we’ll keep an eye on them, call out their madness, and remind everyone just how far removed they are from any semblance of reason.