Coming Up Short & Unseen

Dave King does not do social visits to Ibrox. He cannot even find time to get behind the team. Is he beginning to tire of the wading in Fenian blood calisthenics at Rangers Lite? It’s not too much of a stretch to suggest that the rogue board are coming up as short as The Glasgow Half Marathon and that another emergency loan had to be found to make payroll. There are even reports that King is prepared to do walking away at a price of 26p for each of his 11,869,505 shares. Given that he bought his equity from Artemis, Miton and River & Mercantile at 20.1p per share, is the South African short-con artist prepared to stop treading the Ibrox boards for a profit of just over £700,000? If so how Real Rangers Man of him.

To paraphrase one of my contributor’s more inelegant phrases, is the same flies/different shite business model not up to the standard that one might expect in Paul Murray’s forthcoming address to ICAS. Will Murray ‘fess up‘ that the business plan is to throw money at problems until such time that no more loans are available? Did King propose a loan from one of his underworld contacts at onerous rates? One would hope that the £5m to pay off to Ashley was not borrowed from Signore Agliotti.

Image result for frank agnelli and Dave King of rangers

When King last slipped in to Scotland, which I exclusively revealed on this site, he was being yanked about by Ashley so as to serve papers on him for contempt of court. He flew in first class from Johannesburg at Rangers’ expense for a sit-down meeting that did not materialize and a subsequent surprise rendezvous with Sheriff Officers. Ashley had stitched him up like a kipper. Had it not been for the masonic-facing intervention of disgraced High Court Judge, Peter Smith, King would have been sent down to spend Xmas at HMP Brixton. King was indifferent to the threat as serving time is an occupational hazard for career criminals.

However at the next court case in March, the smart money is on Ashley. There are those who anticipate a £5m reverse for the Rogue Board. If King would walk away for just over £3m, to be accompanied by ‘wrong un‘ Murray and WATP Gilligan, would Ashley withdraw his Panzer division? He has his jackboot on King’s scrawny neck and is of a mind to snap it.

Should one applaud Level 5 for the SMSM blanket ban of news in regard to King’s arrival? Where was Grant Russell to ask King how much he had held back for the January transfer window?  Grant, who failed to mention that UEFA’s Head Of Compliance, Andrea Traverso, considered Rangers Lite to be a new club, could have asked King how the £250,000 spent on Jan Alwick comes up significantly short on King’s promise of £30m. Does the 22 point gap to Celtic come at a price of £1m per point apropos the conspicuous absence of investment ?  Ceteris Paribus, it will be thirty points or more by season end, leaving no hiding place for King. He should walk the plank now before the penny drops on his arcade fantasy. The inveterate bigots that constitute ‘The People’ don’t take too kindly to fools’ gold:

Image result for pitchfork rebellion photos

I’m not persuaded that King is of a mind to walk away just yet. Brian Kennedy is circling like a Sale Shark and might offer King a higher price for his equity. Perhaps something along the lines of £4m, which I’m reliably informed is a £1m discount on the price King quoted to Ashley. As The Gullibillies scattered rose petals at King’s feet he was cutting deals with their sworn enemy. Did we expect anything less from King?

Did George Taylor, who owns 12.46% of RIFC, step up with the payday loan?  Should Taylor acquire King’s 14.57% to keep Kennedy at bay he would have a 27.03% interest in Rangers Lite. As this is less than the 30% threshold where he would have to make a 26p offer to the remaining stakeholders, one can see the attraction for the Real Rangers Man. However King, who knows where the concert party bodies are buried, might exact a higher price from Taylor to keep his mouth shut.

The Three Bears were without a shadow of doubt acting in concert when they acquired a controlling interest in RIFC. They bought Laxey’s 16.32% holding on 31.12.14 at 20p per share.With January 1st being a bank and stock exchange holiday, King purchased his holding on the next business day, the second of January. Those who think that this was a coincidence must have come down in the last shower.

In the event that the FCA took an interest, and as they have not responded to my missive this is unlikely, they might turn their hand to how King, Murray and Traynor used hacked information to drive down the price of the equity. Should any of my readers be attending Murray’s ICAS address, be sure to inquire what part he played in the £25,000 acquisition of William Stevensons’ misappropriated data.

Rangers legend John Greig, Rangers Director Dave King, interim chairman Paul Murray and Director John Gilligan
Are Warburton’s Wooden Wonders not setting the heather alight? One woman decides to get some z’s…..

Warburton’s Counterfeit Eleven

When one occasionally pauses to consider career criminal Dave King, I find myself humming the melody of The Hustle by Van McCoy & The Soul City Symphony. The prevailing narrative that King is on the make should not be lost on anyone who has included this site on their preferred reading list. I have been exposing this shark’s dark underbelly since the inception of this site. I also took my gloves off on the RSL site, and on the LSE AIM shares chat page where I first encountered my right hand man on this site, The Mensch. I informed anyone who would listen that King was a mendacious short-con artist of the first ordure. There were those so inured to the concept of a ‘sugar daddy‘ at Ibrox that would not heed my call. They are all ears now as they lurk on this site. Is it beyond the gift of any Rangers supporter to make a much-needed donation to this site? Are they happy to live off the largesse of other clubs’ supporters? Their sense of entitlement beggars belief.

Dave King is to ‘Sugar Daddy’ what Pete Townsend is to UNICEF. I will be dealing with Mr. Townsend in a blog that is currently in development. Paying to watch impoverished parents sexually abuse and torture their toddlers and babies in The Philippines deserves a unique circle in Dante’s construct of hell. Did Mr Townsend engage in interactive discourse and induce others, with his credit card, to insert instruments and organs in toddlers? What a charming old fucker he is. When I publish my blog, I will print a hard copy and send it to Mr. Peter Townsend, The Tower, Richmond, Surrey. I will invite him to be the plaintiff in a libel case, and hope that the sick twisted bastard bites.

I digress. Mr King dropped by to attend a crisis board meeting on Wednesday. True to form King turned up at the party without a carry out. The duped board members had been hoping that King would have his full Rand personal allowance in his carry-on luggage.He would have been allowed to export the princely sum of 160,000 ZAR which is the equivalent of £9,362.43, which would have kept the players in their Prozac-infused granola for a week at the five starred Petrus-Auchenhowie. El Warbiola was informed that the highest number of  Michelin stars was three. His response was succinct:

Five stars on the strips must be a reflection of good diet, ergo five stars at Petrus-Auchenhowie.

Who can fault his logic? Might I suggest anyone not living in a parallel universe?


I understand that El Warbiola left the board meeting with singed eyebrows. I exclusively revealed on this site that the air was blue in the aftermath of The Scottish Cup Final. Rangers Ambassador, Bomber Brown, who evidently attended the same charm school as Donald Trump, was overheard calling the ingenue coach:

A useless English cunt.

WATP Gilligan piled in to the rhetoric stramash with a conflation of Rangers and ‘Taigs without the bus fare‘ and had to be restrained by Paul Murray as he literally wanted to introduce his brown brogues to El Warbiola’s alimentary canal.

A win in The Scottish Cup final would have anointed the rogue board. Failure to do so with the recidivist supporters reverting to type, is often referred to by insiders as the rationale for Resolution 11 not passing muster.

The loans by the duped board are on the never-never.As I also exclusively revealed on this site, Paul Murray visited Brian Kennedy at his Manchester office to solicit his investment. Did he offer King’s equity at £1m over its par value? If he did, Kennedy did not bite.I envisage a future for Kennedy at Ibrox as soon as the glib and shameless liar has relinquished his shares.

The excoriating rhetoric, verging on physical assault, was so severe that the majority of the board had doubts as to whether Warburton would return to Auchenhowie. Alas and alack, Warburton had no other offers and had to eat humble pie. He was so desperate for an exit from Ibrox that he returned an unsolicited call from Phil Macgiollabhain. Did he mistake the Nationalist-facing journalist for a chairman or agent?

King took Warburton to task on his signings. Mac Bung might set them up but the buck stops with Warburton apropos converting them. Kranjcar’s and Rossiter’s knees are so damaged that they have the forward movement of Fussball players. Senderos is so bad that one half expects the late Jeremy Beadle to be exhumed from his grave. The other eight signings have all sank without trace, with the exception of Barton who made quite a splash before paddling his canoe from shit creek to the safe harbour of Burnley. Warburton’s inexperience is not being hidden under a bushel. His raw naivete is there for everyone to see like a Belisha beacon.

Despite the best efforts of Level 5 and New Business Development Executive, Keith Jackson, there has been no interest in ‘call me Barrie‘ McKay. If anyone offered £400,000 the rogue board would bite their hands clean off. Other than McKay, Waggy Waghorn might raise a semi at a lower level English club, but liquid assets are thin on the ground. Would anyone be surprised if no-one was punted from Auchenhowie? If King in his Sandton lair can see that these players are counterfeit, it does not bode well in the open market.

An injection of funds was required to make payroll. The winter shutdown kept win bonus payments to a bare minimum.

As is his wont Mr King chose not to take in Rangers Lite at Motherwell.

Was anyone surprised that he demurred from watching Warburton’s Counterfeit Eleven?  

Transfer Tombola at Rangers Lite

Dear JJ,

I note that it’s squeaky bum time at Ibrox again as there is little ebb and much flow apropos liquidity. Stewart Robertson is having difficulty finding enough money to cover the staff tea float while being subjected to a cacophony of chafing cheeks. Even though he is inordinately parched he cannot risk the short walk from his office to the water cooler as the sound might be reminiscent of mating Limpopo crickets, which are a delicacy in the King household. One would not want to incite King to eat his pants. Perish the thought.

Colour me surprised but word reaches me that King wants a cool £1m premium for his equity. However the beleaguered  board are having difficulty meeting payroll and activating the £250,000 release clause in Jan Alwick’s contract at Port Vale. Given that Matt Gilks has walked the payroll plank there is a pressing need to bring in cover for Foderingham.

Wes has just put the finishing touches to his new book : “Wes – My Scottish Cup Hell” which is a harrowing tale of how he was water-boarded by spit filtered through a Hibs scarf by supporters going, as he eloquently put it, The Full Zulu. He was forced to repeatedly admit that “We Are Not The People Any More.To add insult to injury they confiscated his brown brogues

The book features an introduction by The Rangers Lite New Business Development Executive, Keith Jackson.The opening paragraphs of his putative years with his pet falcon, against a backdrop of pit closures, has more pathos than Ken Loach on a bare week. If only Ken would cast Jennifer Aniston in a romantic comedy for some light relief from his ‘Road To Wigan Pier’ funereal dirges. He would not have to completely abandon the flat cap diatribes.He could improvise with a “By gum lass, you’ve got a good arse on ye” lighter touch.

King has his much duped board over a barrel as they career towards a precipitous gradient at The Royal Courts of Justice. There is no guarantee that they will survive the fall. Paying off the pariah might be the lesser of two evils, as King knows where all the bodies are buried in his share manipulating concert party. Driving the shares off a cliff with hacked information and subsequently delisting from LSE AIM would not play well at the FCA.

Despite putting the entire squad in the shop window at Rasen Ballsport Leipzig, there are still no takers for the barely walking wounded at Auchenhowie. If one were to believe our new business development executive, Jim White will be jetting in to Auchenhowie, sporting a yellow tie and matching Arab strap, with a £6m bankers draft for call me Barrie (I’m special) McKay. Back on planet earth, McKay failed to ignite the heather in yesterday’s game at Motherwell.  However one enterprising Lite supporter made a good fist of it with a flare. I anticipate Je Suis Graham will brief the gone postal masturbator Chris Jack that the Blue Horde were not chanting the proscribed hate crime of The Famine Song, or Up To Their Knees In Fenian Blood, but were actually singing The Platters classic, Smoke Gets In Your Eyes. Warburton then led them in a sailor’s hornpipe at full time, according to the alternate narrative much favoured by Donald Trump and the SMSM. When thinking of The Donald, a concatenation of Bull and China comes to mind. When thinking of Warburton only Bull comes to mind.

Lady Bear, the delectable Natasha, has given some thought to the transfer bottleneck at Auchenhowie. She quickly established that a laxative is required to rid the Auchenhowie bowels of their toxic waste. She is proposing a Transfer Tombola. Agents would be invited to pay £50,000 per pick from a bag containing the names of all twenty one players, excluding the two recent loanees and Senderos. Assuming that all 21 were selected, this would raise £1,050,000 to spend on a ‘bear minimum’ of loans.

The dear girl might be on to something.

A Penny Arcade for your thoughts JJ.

Yours in Rangers,

Edward (Teddy) Bear Esquire,

Chalfont St Giles,

Buckinghamshire  WA16 TP90

Image result for photos of people being over a barrel

Dear Teddy,

It’s always a pleasure, never a chore, to respond to correspondence from you and Lady Bear. My cat, Moggy Miller, is showing an inordinate interest in your remittance. Was Lady Bear cooking up some fishy filth on her Aga? I must emphasize that this is not a low brow euphemism.

One’s heart goes our to El Warbiola as he rides in the jump seat of Ryan Air flights to save on costs. As he roams La Mancha like a modern-day Don Quixote looking for the holy grail of a free transfer with no debilitating medical baggage, he cuts a forlorn figure.When he returns with empty saddlebags and not even Andrea Pirlo’s discarded jockstrap for his trouble, one can almost touch his despair.

To borrow a phrase from his wife’s yoga instructor, Chico Adulteros, his pelvic floor has hit his rock bottom. When he last saw Chico he was sweating like Gary Glitter in a Cambodian WhatsApp photo montage. One can but hope that Wilhelmina is feeling the burn, as she works out to ‘Your Sex is on Fire.‘ I trust the constant lady gardener is on call with his hose in the event of any bush fires?

Rangers Lite are going to hell in a handcart, on ice. Kings appearance is as welcome as a Grim Reaper fancy dress costume on a SAGA cruise. If he is soliciting a £1m profit for his shares,  he can look himself in the mirror and call himself a Real Rangers Man.

One might have hoped that with only forty eight hours to go until the transfer window closes, realpolitik would have broken out in The Weimar Republic Hyperinflation that besets  Auchenhowie.

I guess Nat’s Tombola idea is as good as any. I would add the caveat of tempering the SFA’s involvement as the agents might pull out a plum home Scottish Cup tie from the bag. On that note did you catch Rod Stewart’s seduction masterclass a.k.a. The Scottish Cup draw? McRae was blushing like a Bronte sister, but you could tell he was up for it. His arse has not had this much action since he was given the bum’s rush at Cove Rangers.

Mac Bung greasing the wheels at remote greasy spoons is coming up plums. As a bare minimum one should expect that prospective players should walk when attending their medical examinations, and not be carried in on a stretcher; or as was the case with Senderos, walk in carrying a hod. It just won’t do.

I would put Senderos to work on the failing roofs when the rogue board circus faces the inevitable and relocates to Hampden.

On a final note I have been informed that the latest Danny Boyle opus features a somewhat tart perspective of the Rangers support. I’m sure the travelling support at Motherwell gave the perfect rebuttal to his knuckle-dragging neanderthal extrapolation? On second thoughts cancel that and cue Jethro Tull’s “Living in the Past.”

Yours in exile,


The Anatomy of Transfer Spin

Rangers Lite are in financial hot water. Making payroll this month will be a stretch. They had budgeted for the sale of one or more of their players to tide them over until the next tranche of the loan in March, however funds are required right now as no- one in Warburton’s squad of misfit mercenaries has attracted any interest. Fraser Aird and Tom Walsh are off the payroll but their £8,000 per month will not be enough to keep the squad in Prozac-infused Granola at Petrus-Auchenhowie.

King’s strategy to solicit interest in Barrie McKay has been a spectacular failure. The Level 5 execution involved contacting their tame sports journalist, Keith Jackson, and providing him with a ‘faux’ exclusive. Jackson bought in to the strategy, and duly added ‘shock storm troopers‘ to his narrative and a ludicrous price tag of £6m for McKay. However it was as real as the plastic characters in the following image:


An individual masquerading as a journalist contacted the Leipzig FC press office. An official spokesman for the club confirmed that they had no interest in McKay whatsoever. Negotiations were not at a delicate stage, terms had not been agreed and no medical was booked. This putative transfer was created by Traynor and Jackson.

Allow me to explain how they hoped this strategy would play out. Scouts would be apprised of the interest in McKay and would be encouraged to better Leipzig’s offer. A cursory glance at Transfermarkt would reveal that McKay was valued at £149,000, at which point a skilled objection handler would point to Jamie Vardy and his value in lower League football. To salt the mine, Traynor published edited highlights of McKay on YouTube. His direct run,when his pace exposed Celtic, was played in a loop.

The Rectum then follow up their ‘exclusive‘ with Warburton asserting that he won’t let his starlets leave on the cheap. McKay is suddenly elevated to Rangers Ace status, despite only finding the net on two occasions in twenty games. Would one be surprised to discover that this exciting £6m-rated prospect was farmed out to Raith Rovers and Morton?

When McKay is not sold, the narrative will flip to how his head was not turned and that his heart belongs to Rangers. Barry or Derek Ferguson will turn up to inform McKay that he has made the right choice. His ‘decision to stay’ will be described as the equivalent of a new signing.

Jackson gets a narrative that runs and runs.Traynor invoices King. Warburton is praised for his ambition in retaining the Rangers Ace to make a fist of Europa Cup qualification. The Rectum’s online post bag is filled with gullibillies claiming that he is worth £12m.

From £149,000 to £12,000,000 in one transfer window. You could not make it up any better than Traynor and Jackson, his copy catamite.


Lisbon Lions & Paper Tigers

As we enter the Chinese new year of The Rooster, the cries of ‘chicken‘ continue to be directed at Peter Lawwell. Last night’s victory by Celtic extended the chasm between first and second in the SPFL to an unassailable twenty-two points. Ceteris Paribus, Celtic will wrap up their sixth successive title with eight to ten games to spare, as Warburton’s yeast-full promise of ‘going for 55‘ has been reduced to mouldy old dough. In a scene reminiscent of the migration of wildebeast in Serengeti’s National Park, the gullibillies line up every season to drop their trousers and be shafted when ‘sugar‘ and ‘daddy‘ are conflated in The Daily Rectum. One wonders if they will be as quick to don their  bread wrapping bowlers next season when ‘going for 55 -redux‘ is used to solicit their hard-earned wages in exchange for old rope.

Will the Blue Horde turn up at The Sectarian Speakeasy to exclusively wade in Fenian blood, or would they prefer some football with their hateful epithets du jour?

Selling Celtic season tickets will not entail the artifice required to pitch ice cream to an Inuit community. If a treble is secured in Rodgers’ first season, the going for 7 in a row, 49 in total, will chime with the Celtic support as the CFC box-office rings up record profits.

However any comparison with The Lisbon Lions, in the 50th Anniversary since they raised European Football’s most prized trophy, should be nipped in the bud. Rangers 1872 were a force to be reckoned with when Stein’s babes were in their pomp. If McNeil and his team of European Champions were to face Charles Green’s cobbled together assets it would be like taking candy from a baby, with the dummy and pram misappropriated for good measure.

Lawwell will surf the feel good wave all the way to a fat bonus and a new thermostat for his heated driveway. Sporting integrity is for the birds who pick at his estate’s berries. The renascent Rangers. Rangers Lite, will be forever in Celtic’s shadow. Lawwell probably believes that he can walk on water as he dips his toe in a river of Govan tears. There is no need for opposing fans to taunt YNRA, as only those watching Warburton’s Wooden Woes through a Union Jack prism will be convinced by Charles Green’s sleight of hand facsimile.

Despite the best efforts of Chris Jack, who must get a girlfriend before his masturbation goes postal,  the Old Firm has followed Rangers into the grave. Since any partnership with Rangers 1872  could only be effected with the assistance of hallucinogenic mushrooms and a plausible medium, this Glasgow brand has slipped quietly down the Hampden slope.

Is the ease in which Celtic are winning the title in any way predicated on the 5-way agreement or are there other forces in play? If Lord Bannatyne takes The Guardian, he may have come across an article by Mike Small in 2012 in which he asserted:

Rangers’ starting in the lowest league is a victory for fans over an inept elite.”

Mr Small elaborates:

It’s worth getting a few things straight before kick-off. This isn’t about relegating ‘Rangers.’  Rangers don’t exist any more. This isn’t about Craig Whyte. Craig Whyte’s not around any more. It’s about a culture of failure, a total lack of transparency and connivance from the very top of the Scottish Premier League and the Scottish Football Association in a rigged cartel that has brought Scottish football to total crisis. The good news is that the inept coterie at the top of the game has been bypassed by ordinary fans and smaller clubs. This is what democracy looks like.

Sevco 5088 Ltd being forced to start life in the bottom tier of Scottish Football was completely unthinkable only a few months ago, and only a few days ago it seemed like efforts to parachute this new entity into the First Division – the next tier down from the Scottish Premier League – by Neil Doncaster, the now utterly discredited SPL chief executive, would succeed. Sporting integrity, or integrity of any kind, would, it seemed, be crushed under the weight of corporate expectation, a conflation of embedded sports and business journalists and the staggering sense of entitlement of Rangers and their allies in the governing bodies.”

It’s a damning indictment of the SMSM that one has to travel South of Hadrian’s Wall for accurate reportage on the demise of Rangers. However the rotten fruit and the stocks should not have been the exclusive preserve of Neil Doncaster. He should have been joined by Arch-Huns  David Longmuir and Jim Ballantyne.

Mr Small concluded his cogent thesis with :

Whatever you think of the rights and wrongs of Rangers, the fact is that the SPL chairmen would have quite happily connived to drop the newco into the top flight. Without the resistance of a network of ordinary fans unconvinced by the governing bodies’ (or the mainstream media’s) account of things, the money men’s perpetual short-termism would have prevailed. Faced with (unsubstantiated) apocalyptic scenarios, ordinary fans put huge pressure on their own clubs in advance of the vote at Hampden this week,  [with the threat of] withholding their season tickets.

There has been a profound failure of governance, not just among the series of dodgy geezers who lined up to fleece Rangers fans for decades, but the entire edifice of Scottish football, especially the leadership of Stewart Regan and Neil Doncaster. The reality is that the SPL, founded in 1998, has failed by any metric you can choose: attendances, club success in Europe, entertainment value, national team success.

Incredibly, since the SPL began, five of its member clubs have entered administration. The newly leaked email from the SFA’s Stewart Regan marks him out as a clueless fixer, who’s failed at every effort to collude with Rangers. BBC Scotland reported yesterday that a vote of no confidence in Regan was proposed and seconded at last Friday’s Scottish Football League meeting.”

However the embedded SMSM are not prepared to accept any new order in Scottish Football. They pine for the days of succulent lamb served with lashings of PR gravy. They twist their blood with their metaphors to extol the continuation mantra of Engine Room Subsidiaries. Martin Williams should take a long hard look at himself as his knuckles scrape along the tarmac in archetypal ‘Hun‘ fashion. He’s a fucking excuse of a journalist whose succulent lamb sloth extends to stealing my articles. Can anyone see him ripping this one off? Would Coral offer 2,500 to 1?

Doncaster paid off Longmuit. Regan’s scrawny neck was saved by Ballantyne. When a clean broom was required we were given Trigger’s Broom in its stead.

When Pat Nevin inquired on March 19th, 2012 what would happen if a CVA failed, the BBC’s Roddy Forsyth and Daily Rectum’s Keith Jackson refused to answer the question or even countenance the possibility of a CVA failing. Forsyth,  a card-carrying share-owning Bluenose of some reknown, was particularly adamant that HMRC had told him that they would not oppose a CVA if it was “fair and equitable” and facilitated “regime change” (i.e. getting shot of Craig Whyte). “Their words… not mine” Forsyth said, and wrote, in his Daily Telegraph column. Can one envisage the indignation of the thinking man’s Protestant when HMS Rangers 1872 was scuttled by HMRC?

So spare me the comparisons with the Lisbon Lions. The seeds of Celtic’s current dominance were sown when the CVA failed and Rangers fell by the wayside. Rangers Lite are little more than Paper Tigers.

A Failure to Launch

Bhunabhoy wrote:

I have turned my back on Scottish football, i admit, sickened as I was at the level of corporate malfeasance and cheating that went on at Rangers, and angered still that Sevco seem to be operating on a nod and a wink basis with the SFA regarding their current finances. You seem too quick to pigeon-hole me, thinking perhaps that I am willing, as a Celtic fan, to settle for the status quo of a relationship with a ‘significant other’ that will keep the tills ringing, but I can assure you that my love of the game is as deep as yours, and I want, as much as you seem to want, to see the errant club (in liquidation) to be brought to book for its cheating, and for the current incarnation of the club to operate in a financially responsible manner.

The point I was trying to make to JJ was that considering the institutions and individuals who could have made a difference have done nothing to promote sporting integrity, and that every aspect of both Govan clubs’ chicanery has been analysed ad infinitum on his own and other sites, what does he hope to achieve in the long term through the publication of his blog? I know that if you don’t fight you lose, but when the odds are thoroughly stacked against you, and despite your best efforts all evidence is ignored and your personal safety has been threatened, what is your motivation going forward? I locked horns with my MP on this issue via mail and in person, and in the end he just didn’t want to know, despite all the issues which still need to be addressed and despite the compelling evidence which exists. The fact that I took it that far and was ignored was one of the reasons that I turned my back on the game, as in my view the establishment is turning a blind eye, but the game is forever tainted until the matter is resolved. JJ has his blog, and routinely puts compelling information in the public domain, but he is also being ignored by those in power who could make a difference. He also has to remain anonymous over genuine fears for his safety, so where do we go from here, and what will make a real difference? Apologies if I came across as a someone just out for a moan, but I am as disgusted as you are at the poisoning of the well, but we’re five years down the line and water still isn’t safe to drink. What can be done? Genuine question.

A genuine question deserves a genuine response. I would not be too dismissive of blogs. These sites are the future as the Kindle/iPad generation continue to eschew hard copy print. What could be better for the hard pressed commuter than to have a daily fix of news on the train, bus or tram of a morning. In 16 full months of operation, this site will just fall short of 10,000,000 hits and 25,000 comments. There is a consensus on this site for change. This site is the only blog that publishes an article on each of 7 days per week in an annual cycle of 364 days. Make no mistake, every journalist in the SMSM is aware of this site. Many take my original ideas and add their own spin. Some revert to downright plagiarism. However when this occurs it takes my thoughts into the main stream. My voice and those of my contributors is being heard. This voice is lamb free.

There are those who think Rangers have nine lives, but if the current iteration fails there will be no way back for them. Ashley and The Supreme Court could be the perfect storm that washes away the lie of continuation. The hubris and bombast could ebb away like flotsam and jetsam.

I’m a lapsed supporter of a lapsed club. I refuse to attend Ibrox as I will not give money to the Charlotte Fakeovers criminals, namely King and Murray, in the rogue board. Given a choice I would prefer to watch Morton or Largs Thistle. In regard to the former club there is some curious conjecture doing the rounds that the Easdales are planning to acquire the Tail of The Bank club. I have not had the pleasure of meeting either Sandy or James, but I have a source who knows them well. He has confirmed what I have long held as true:

Sandy & James Easdale are Real Rangers Men. Cut them in half and you will find ‘Aye Ready’ striated through their core.

I can categorically state that they will not be buying another loss making Club that is being propped up by the confectionary manufacturers, Golden Casket, who absorb £140,000 of losses in any given year. Golden Casket make ‘Millions’ sweets which are a poor man’s M&M. These sweetmeats are the sponsors of the Morton strips.

The Easdales bought Arriva and its £5m pensions deficit for £1, rebranded it as McGills, and created a business whose value is conservatively estimated to be in excess of £100m. They employ 1,000 staff and operate 400 buses. Their year-on-year revenue has increased by 8.5%. Their paper wealth, which affords them generous credit terms, dwarves the collective wealth of the rogue board. They have stepped up to the plate when crisis loans were required and took nothing, not even their petrol expenses, from the club. King continues to renege on promises of over investment. The clock is ticking on his January lies. The Easdales would have provided a level of comfort on financial stability and would have worked with Ashley to enhance revenue. The brain dead chose a career criminal peddling lies. Their credulity beggars belief.

This site will continue to provide exclusives, such as the $1m bribe paid by David Murray to Lawrence Marlborough, and expose the Level 5 revisionism that is featured in their tame fly swat, The Daily Rectum.

The latest pish from their Ministry of Pishery is the assertion by Lee Wallace that Warburton must extend the contracts of Miller & Hill.  Wallace would have us believe that players with a  collective age of 75 will fire them to Champions League glory. Has Sandy Chugg been adding Prozac to the granola at the world class Auchenhowie refectory?  If the players get any older at Auchenhowie, Warburton will have to exhume them.

Did Wallace have access to a helium balloon so as to deliver this spurious claim in a high voice?

The Champions League is an opium pipe dream for Wallace and  Rangers. The only way Wallace will hear the Champions League music for the foreseeable future will be in a live app from Celtic Park. Miller may be good, but he’s not that good

Je ne suis pas SFA

Regular readers will note that I have consigned yesterday’s blog to Room 101. Every blog stands or falls on three empirical key performance indicators. On Twitter, where I have fast approaching 5,000 followers, I gauge traction by retweets and likes. On the WordPress forum the feedback comes in the form of comments. Finally I look at donations made since the publication of the blog. The sum total of likes/comments/donations was 8-8-0. The singular lack of donations was the straw that broke the flimsy spine of my Scottish Cup Season Ticket thesis.

However I will pluck one metaphor from my ill-starred piece i.e. Rod Stewart and Alan Stubbs  were the modern day equivalent of Samantha Fox and Mick Fleetwood who produced more dead air at the Brit Awards than Fukushima. The Daily Rectum, showing that they hang on my every word, riffed on my Rod Hull and Emu analogy. However Stewart did not revert to puppetry when he goosed McRae’s arse. It was probably a first for McRae whose Rubenesque appeal was lost on everyone except Rod. Some Blondes Have All The Luck?

As Stewart’s high jinks grabbed the headlines, the news that Darryl Broadfoot was leaving the SFA slipped under the radar.  Broadfoot will continue to be the SFA’s undertaker until late March when his transferable skills for burying bad news and creative communications will be hived off to Frame. Broadfoot interred two drafts of the 5-way agreement and the prosaic fact that King failed the SFA’s sniff test. Could his unseen hand have misdirected Rod McKenzie who was told where not to look when collating evidence for his report to Billy Boy Nimmo Smith? Mr ‘Michelle My Belle‘ Broadfoot has been dumped more often than a wild-eyed gypsy with halitosis,  but he is not one to Mone about it. He was last seen bench-pressing Michelle McManus, which was not quite the uplifting experience that she had in mind.

With seven PR specialists in Frame’s team of sixty, one might opine that there are too many dicks on the dance floor. In the opinion of those within the PR milieu, it’s a lightweight appointment to a light Frame. I have a level of comfort that Broadfoot will be spinning up a storm in no time. As long as he does not revert to the sectarian epithets of family member Kirk, he should do well. As we saw with the 48 hour pop-up communications director at Ibrox, none other than Je Suis Graham,  it does not play well when the PR puppeteer is front and centre of the prevailing narrative. One might be excused for thinking that Level 5 would have been the perfect home for Darryl’s duplicity. Has the Rangers well run dry?

One of the unfortunate aspects of a room 101 cremation is the loss of the associated comments, but as was the case with the Russian fireman who rescued little piglets, which with a line of lipstick might pass as the Rangers squad as they shift uncomfortably in the Auchenhowie Departure’s Lounge, I selflessly extricated the following by Fisiani from the pyre:

When running on financial fumes a few home games are useful to gain another week of life. Do the Sevco fans who are demanding that the club bring in top players in the next seven days actually not realise that there is not enough money to pay the wages this month?  The so called loans that have been given to Sevco will never be repaid. The directors who gave those emergency loans have lost their money. Does anyone think they will offer more money? The only potential saviour is Mike Ashley but his price would be high. Watch out for an astute asset stripper appearing. You could probably buy Sevco now for less than $1M . You could sell Auchenhowie, Ibrox and any other properties owned by Sevco. You could transfer all the the first team and play a reserve/youth team and play in a rented stadium. Such a team might struggle to avoid relegation but if it wears a blue jersey it could attract 40,000 a fortnight. You would have to get back the rights to merchandise.
I could make a tidy profit from such a team. I could however not make it a successful football team in the short to medium term but that also applies to over 90% of football teams. If I can see that from 12,000 miles away I’m sure that someone in the UK has enough funds to make it happen. Imagine if someone like Rod Stewart bought the team and instituted a financial manager like me. He’d make a profit and keep a Diddy team alive and ensure 20 in a row for Celtic. Who wants to own Sevco?”

To paraphrase Phil Mac, Sevco is a loss-making company without a credit line from the bank. I’m getting the impression that the career criminal, the hairdresser’ model (something for the weekend sir?) and WATP Gilligan have been sidelined by those with more skin in this game of chance. Letham, Park & Taylor are now running the show, aided and abetted by Stewart Robertson. Since King picked up a bag of swag from the sale of Micromega Malfeasance his forays north of the Limpopo have been few and far between. A cynic might posit that when Craig Whyte’s indictments are knocked down to a financial misdemeanour, it will behove Police Scotland to pursue Bill Stevenson and those who procured his hacked information, namely King & Murray. Would it not be delicious if Jim Traynor was caught up in their blunderbus conspiracy? King, Murray and Traynor would make the perfect chain gang. One could even envisage a scenario where solar panels were affixed to Murray’s bouffant with a view to paying of his debt to society. How enterprising.