Keevins defence of John Brown was abysmal even for him.

Yesterday, I read one of the most pitiful articles of the close-season so far; from Hugh Keevins, arguing that because he has uttered some controversial rubbish in his life that John Brown should not have been sanctioned by the SFA.

The article reeked of his usual cowardice.

But there was something else there too.

It comes down to two things, no matter how much smoke Keevins wants to blow around the subject. The first is that John Brown quite clearly and unambiguously broke the rules. That’s not a matter of opinion or a subject up for debate.

He said the officials who disallowed that goal at Easter Road were corrupt. That’s the word he used. It’s not vague, it’s not subtle. He said it, on air, on the official club channel. And that’s a violation of the rules.

The second is that by making a song and dance about it, and by handing down what amounts to a token slap on the wrist, the SFA has managed to give the appearance of action without actually taking any.

They get to say, “Look, we’ve punished a high-profile figure associated with Ibrox” while completely ignoring the real problems—pyros, crowd disorder, sectarian singing, dangerous conduct—all of it swept under the rug, again.

Keevins is the perfect coward for this moment, a man whose entire argument boils down to, “Well, I’ve said stupid things and I’ve never been punished for them, so nobody else should be either.” It’s the kind of twisted logic you’d expect from someone who has made a long career out of playing the doddery old contrarian. But this is more than just lazy punditry—it’s an open defence of hypocrisy.

He admits he’s made a career, and paid for two weddings, off the back of what he calls “spontaneous emotional comment.” Well, good for him. But here’s the thing: when you’re a co-commentator on a club’s official channel, you’re not just mouthing off in a pub or calling in to a phone-in. You’re not just some ignorant old fool writing a newspaper column for the benefits of a dwindling audience. You are speaking on behalf of a club bound by the SFA rules. The standards are different. The consequences are different. That’s why there are rules in the first place.

Brown didn’t just say the officials made a mistake. He accused them of corruption. That’s a serious charge, and it’s a clear violation of the regulations which prohibit any comment that impugns the integrity or impartiality of match officials and which is made through an official channel.

If Brendan Rodgers had said any such thing Keevins would have been demanding a lengthy ban for it. He can try to wave it away as no big deal, a bit of colourful language from an emotional ex-player. That’s not just missing the point—it’s deliberately sidestepping it. Brown is employed by the club. To leave an allegation like that on the record, unpunished, from a club cannot be allowed to stand.

The whole thing is a smokescreen; amazingly, he does appear to know and acknowledge that point at the end.

He also knows that the Ibrox club statement was ludicrous, the usual self-pitying nonsense dressed up as concern for fairness and “regulatory oversight.” The idea that they, of all clubs, are victims of selective enforcement is laughable. They rely on selective enforcement to avoid half the sanctions that should be coming their way.

The contrast with how Celtic figures are treated is stark. Tom Boyd was hounded over his comments in 2019—vilified by the media, scrutinised by the SFA, and treated like a pariah for saying far less than Brown did. The fact that, in media terms, Boyd was treated like a serious problem and Brown like a harmless eccentric says it all. It shows the double standard, the two-tier system that governs how scrutiny is applied depending on who you are and what badge you wore.

Keevins talks about how everyone thinks there’s a conspiracy, and how if you don’t believe in it, you’re part of it. That’s a nice rhetorical trick, but it doesn’t work here. This isn’t about conspiracies—it’s about consistency. And if the rules aren’t enforced consistently, they’re meaningless. Despite what Ibrox thinks or claims to think, they were applied properly in this case and in the one with Boydy. His whole article betrays a sneering contempt for the letter of the law.

That reduces the laws to tools of convenience, used to whack whoever’s easiest to target while the real offenders carry on unchecked.

Brown’s comment wasn’t a one-off. It was part of a culture that thrives at Ibrox, one of grievance, paranoia, and defiance. A culture that’s been enabled for years by weak governance and a media class too cowardly or compromised to call it out. Keevins isn’t just refusing to condemn Brown—he’s actively providing cover for him. And in doing so, he’s telling the rest of us that there’s one rule for them, and another for everyone else.

He says the compliance officer should have more important things to do. He’s right—but not in the way he means. The compliance officer should be busy, not with nonsense like this, but with the far more dangerous conduct that keeps getting ignored. But because the SFA refuses to take on the real problems, it ends up playing whack-a-mole with stuff like this instead. It’s all performative.

This isn’t about wanting Brown dragged through the streets either.

It’s about applying the rules evenly. If the SFA had cracked down on pyro the way it cracked down on Boyd, or on Brown, or on any number of people for saying the wrong thing, we might be getting somewhere. If they cracked down on sectarian singing, far less objects chucked from the stands we really would be.

But they haven’t. They won’t. Because they’re afraid. Afraid of confrontation. Afraid of the consequences. Afraid of what they’ll be accused of if they show some spine.

And so they do the bare minimum, always.

They fine a guy who used the word “corrupt,” and then pat themselves on the back for taking a stand. But they don’t ban clubs over the stuff that actually threatens safety. They don’t close stands. They don’t enforce their own rules on fan behaviour. They let chaos reign in the stands and then go after easy targets in the studio.

If Brown had said what he said in another context, on a podcast or his own social media, there might be a debate. But he said it on the club’s own broadcast. That makes it official. That makes it a club matter. That’s not a grey area. And yet here we are, being asked to believe it’s no big deal.

It’s not just that Brown broke the rules. It’s that the SFA’s response lets them pretend they’re doing their job while continuing to avoid the hard stuff. And it’s that hacks like Keevins, with their smug dismissal of it all, are enabling that failure.

If we’re serious about cleaning up the game, about restoring integrity to Scottish football, then the rules have to mean something. They have to apply to everyone. They have to be enforced without fear or favour.

Until that happens, everything else is just noise.

The media could help enormously if it did its own job. But as longs as cretins like Keevins work in the newsroom they remain part of the problem instead.