Despite a slew of messages from an inside source that McInnes was on his way to Ibrox, I did my utmost to demur. I eventually capitulated when Mcinnes downed tools and did not lead training. If truth be told I was never convinced. I highlighted my scepticism in a number of articles. My position that Lite did not have a pot to piss in is incontrovertible
I could not envisage anything other than the most poisoned of chalices at Ibrox. Being the man in charge when Celtic achieve 10-in-a-row would have been too much to bear. As Craig Whyte revealed, every incumbent of the blue room must give the impression that the diddy club is a global giant, despite occasions where the new club was third in the pecking order of Glasgow clubs.
The SMSM were relentless in their pursuit of McInnes. Singing from the same hymn sheet they all inquired:
“How could any ambitious manager turn down Rangers?”
The answer is simple. It’s not Rangers. It’s a facsimile club that is heavily in debt. Rangers Lite are unable to gain credit at any bank. Even a WONGA loan where you borrow a bar of soap and repay a bar of gold is not within their gift. Could this be the reason that arch criminal King seems unperturbed about the impending cold front from London’s Paternoster Square? Does he take the view that the City already regard the rogue board as Gypsies, Tramps & Thieves?
Rangers Lite’s courtship of McInnes, with mood music supplied by BBC Scotland EBT, was far from subtle. One conjures up thoughts of ‘Hey Hen, fancy a lumber‘ at a Glasgow dance hall, with a concomitant rubber ear. The knockback to Lite was so unequivocal that they might be forced to change their PR representation from the gout-ridden old soak that is Traynor at Level 5 to Darry Broadfoot at Frame. Broadfoot is an old hand at the knockback game. Broadfoot is not too picky. Any girl answering to Michele that he can bench press will do. However he inevitably crashes and burns when he approaches them. Some have suggested that he has the breath of a Komodo Dragon but they are probably being unkind.
One’s flabber was truly gasted by the Lite response to the knockback:
“The position of Rangers manager requires an ability to win football matches and the mentality to cope with the demanding off-pitch environment that goes with being the Rangers manager. This is a critical aspect of our assessment of any candidate during the interview process.
After the two games against Aberdeen, we requested permission to engage with their manager to assess his readiness and willingness to consider the Rangers position. This was declined. We were subsequently made aware by Aberdeen’s statement that, at this stage in his career, it would be best for him to remain in his current post. We endorse that position because moving to a massive club like Rangers is a big step with concomitant risk. We continue to consider candidates but will only appoint someone in whom we have full confidence and who feels he is ready for the job.”
Massive club: Check.
McInnes not ready: Check
Concomitant risks: Check.
The Gullibilillies will be led to believe that they have dodged a bullet when the prosaic truth of the matter is that the rogue board dodged a bullet as there was a concomitant risk that they would be exposed as not having a pot to piss in.
Lite were hoping that McInnes tore up his contract. Keith Jackson, prompted by Traynor, spelled this out to McInnes.
“Just rock up at Ibrox and we will engage The Baron (of Glen Clova) to give Milne’s counsel a bloody nose.”
The prosaic fact of the matter is that Lite put all their eggs in one basket and when they were removed from the microwave the yolk exploded in their faces.
The sour grapes that have transformed a leading managerial light to an unambitious greenhorn are fooling no-one. Paul Murray would have risked his bouffant to piggy back McInnes all the way from Aberdeen.
This ‘massive club’ is a sham. They have the pulling power of Kevin Spacey on a bare week. The rogue board are always an embarrassment, occasionally a disgrace. Where will they look next for their new manager?
A gloryhole in Richard Gough’s old haunts would probably turn Lite down. It’s getting desperate in Govania.