Sometimes you read something in the Scottish media so brazen that your jaw just drops. I read one of those jaw-dropping statements today, and it came from Keith Jackson.
Oh dear God, how I laughed.
Discussing the absolute state that the Americans have made at the Ibrox club in a very short space of time, he actually had the brass neck. The sheer temerity, to write this:
Most Read on The Celtic Blog
“(It) has certainly lended a level of vindication to those of us who warned that things were very likely to get worse for Rangers under American ownership before they could get any better.”
I mean, apart from my professional urge to scream at the use of the word lended, that might be one of the most dishonest things I’ve ever read in my life.
Who are these people in the Scottish media who were warning that things at Ibrox would get worse before they got better?
There’s a reason that story of the takeover was leaked to Jackson in the first place. He did what was expected of him, the good little boy that he is. He wrote it exactly the way the club wanted it written. There were no warnings that things would get worse. Everything Jackson and his colleagues churned out about that takeover was all sunshine and light. A new dawn had broken over Ibrox, apparently. Utter garbage.
There were people who did give actual warnings, who said this might not change anything for the better. That was us, here in the Celtic blogosphere.
I wrote about this earlier today. The Scottish media were nowhere near that conversation. They went out of their way not to have it.
There was no scrutiny of the Americans or their bona fides. They didn’t ask what they wanted, or what level of professionalism or understanding of football they brought to the table.
And tell you what, with the guns pointed now at so-called 49ers head honcho Gretar Steinsson, it’s déjà vu. We talked about that guy here too. They gave him no scrutiny whatsoever when he was brought in to advise them on the last managerial hunt.
As I said this morning, Jackson is blaming everyone under Cavanaugh as though they’re all running around freelancing. But that seems highly unlikely. What’s far more likely is that these men are simply instruments of a policy decided back in the States.
Jackson now claims there’s a “strong working theory” that Steinsson and Thelwell botched the Gerrard negotiations. They are also responsible for the Muscat mess. When I read phrases like “strong working theory” from someone like Keith Jackson, it’s hard not to laugh. This is a man who can barely get two and two to make four on his best day. Yet here he is spinning grand theories and flogging them to the Ibrox faithful.
This is the same guy who had chance after chance and never once asked a serious, searching, probing question about the Americans before they took control of the club. Back when their credentials could still have been examined and, if necessary, the takeover stopped. It’s far too late now to start wondering who they are, what they want, what professionalism they possess, or what their intentions might be.
That ship sailed long ago.
Jackson and his paper have had the bit between their teeth about Stewart since the day he sat in front of them and refused to give them the good news they were desperate for. Maybe there was no good news that day, but Jackson wanted some anyway and didn’t get it.
The man has been in their crosshairs since. I don’t know what Thelwell did to annoy them, but they’ve been furious with him ever since. T
Cavanaugh, of course, remains the Golden Boy.
He’s the one Jackson and his pals are still pinning their hopes on. Yet it’s never actually been clear that he runs anything. He certainly couldn’t have found the money on his own to buy the Ibrox operation. No one has ever identified who the faceless Americans behind him really are.
Cavanaugh is their front man. He might not even be the one giving the orders. The idea that he’s some hard man who’ll sweep in, take charge and clear out the boardroom appears more the subject of mad fantasy than anything grounded in reality.
The whole thing unfolding over there is farcical. But the image of Keith Jackson as the great truth-teller, the man who was warning fans all along that this might not go smoothly, that’s priceless. It’s blackly, bleakly funny.
On a day when we could all use a laugh, it doesn’t make our own situation at Celtic Park any better, but it gives us something to smile about.
Keith Jackson, the great seer.
The one honest man in Scottish journalism. The one who told the Ibrox fans what they needed to hear rather than what they wanted to hear. You’ve got to give him credit — it’s quite a stretch.
Anyone who believes that needs their head examined.
