I recently attended the football match at Ibrox Park involving Rangers Football Club and Dundee United, to call it an eye-opener would be the understatement of the century. For not in my many years as a follower and pupil of the great game, have I witnessed such a disjointed, unholy and utterly lamentable effort from a team and its so called supporters. As I sat there, amidst a sea of blue chairs, I asked myself, what on earth is going on here? Rangers Football Club, one of the great Scottish institutions, a beacon of light in an otherwise backward and bitter nation, a shining example of all that is good in football, and the world in general. It appears I was badly mistaken. A driving wind swept through the stadium, there was a real bite in the air and ironically, bite is exactly what this Rangers team was lacking, no fight, no guile, no flair, no imagination, no class. I could go on and on about how poor this Rangers team is but it is already common knowledge, what was even more striking was the attitude of the Rangers support, they really look a dejected bunch and seem to have gone out with a whimper, reverting to the old FTP chants and racist salutes far too easily. Its no secret that Rangers face an almost certain defeat off the park, in the current tax case with HMRC, a figure in the region of £50,000,000 will soon be due to the taxman and it looks like the knockout punch, the one that could end the club as we know it forever. But this is no excuse for the downing of tools, for the surrending of titles, by players, nor fans, this is no excuse to re-open the banned songbook, this is no excuse to racially or religiously abuse people in the street. There is absolutely no excuses for the recent behaviour of the Rangers support and I make no qualms about condemning it completely. Has this support not brought about enough self inflicted wounds? Surely a line must be drawn, a total rehaul of the Rangers family attitude is an absolute necessity and it has to come from the top down. I am pleading with you Mr Craig Whyte, to keep control of your people in these most troubling times, for surely if the Rangers fans will listen to anyone, it will be the self made billionaire tycoon, whos unfathomable wealth has helped see the club through this recent dark period. How Rangers fans deal with the situation will become apparent in the next few weeks, and only when the doors of the famous Ibrox Park slam shut, will their true character be revealed. Irvine Boyle
My name is Irvine Boyle My name is Irvine Boyle and I hate Glasgow Rangers Football club. There are many reasons for this. During my formative years in Glasgow, hailing from an Irish Catholic background, I attended many schools as my mother liked to move from area to area as work dried up. She was a whore and once she'd given the locals a dose she would be chased and we would have to up sticks and leave. During this turbulent spell, I attended Proddy schools. To give them their correct name, non-denominational schools. It was here I got bullied for my name. The antagonists took more pleasure handing out beatings for this than they did when they found out my mother was a whore. Whenever they aimed a kick at my testicles, they would scream out the name of various Rangers players. 'GREIG', 'JOHNSTONE' and 'BAXTER' were screamed as they took a kick. The pains stays with me to this day whenever I hear those names. After the beatings I always associated the colour blue with my bruised testicles. After I left school, I worked as a binman. Being a Catholic, it was easy to get in to work at Glasgow City Council and being a binman was great. I had got married to a lovely lass called Bernadette as well. Life was great. Then it happened. I came home off shift to find this strapping young lad administering his manhood into Bernadette's rectum. 'She was screaming 'Oh Ally - **** me harder - right up the dung funnel'. Then my mother died of syphilis. The funeral was on the day Rangers won 9-in-a-row. The sight of thousands of people dressed in blue and Bernadette's buggerer Ally holding aloft a big trophy sent me to the edge. Anyway - in order to get over this torment, I'm off to Ibrox to rid myself of these demons. I will let you know how I get on in my next blog. My name is Irvine Boyle.
Yep - I was so angry when I read what some random posted, I constructed a response but only after punching the wall, kicking the dug and slapping the missus about. My inner calm has returned.
Trev posted a facebook yesterday with a picture of someone fishing wearing what looked like a Rangers top. Maybe it's been deleted. It looked like you although it was a side/back view.
Indeed, twas only 3 days ago that he was the one bitching about Celtic fans on the Gers boards. He's obsessed.
