Who Will Be Rangers' Wee Fergus?

PHIL Mac Giolla Bhain, the Celtic-minded blogger who has been in the front rank of those foretelling of imminent disaster for Rangers over this past year used an interesting similie earlier this week - when he drew a parallel between in mid-Atlantic in 1912 and in Govan in 2012.

Right, RMS Rangers has hit its iceberg; who is in command of the rescue ships and how quickly can they get there? I have no wish to apportion blame, some of those responsible have lang syne got into the life boats and while many will seek to align Craig Whyte with that Italian cruise liner captain - and for sure the early evidence seems to point to reckless disregard for correct and prudent management - but, vessel and iceberg were locked-on to a collision course long before he took the wheel.

In the midst of their natural and understandable gloating at what has happened to the Forces of Darkness, as they see Rangers, many of the Celtic family have pointed out how, when the Families finally ran out of cash and ideas at Kerrydale Street in 1994, while Wee Fergus was the guy with the vision and the drive to oust them and right the ship from almost the point where the stern left the ocean and the final plunge began, ALL the Celtic family chipped-in.

I personally know ordinary Jungle Tims who dug really deep to see their club survive. They couldn't bear the thought of Celtic going under. Will imminent disaster mobilise the troops across the city?

Sadly, past evidence indicates that while to many of Irish or Roman Catholic descent in Scotland, Celtic is an icon which could not be allowed to die, that same desire to cherish and nurture an ailing Rangers is not, even in these dire times, evident.

I can only surmise, saying: "We arra peepel" comes as easily, but with a lot less meaning than saying, for instance: "We are all Neil Lennon". Supporting Celtic is a cause, supporting Rangers seems to be a feel-good factor.

There are guys out there who could salvage a Scottish institution, men who, perhaps not wishing to be tainted with any possible association with the wilder and more-disreputable elements in the club's following, who will, only after a wee hauf or two, in the privacy of friends they have known for years, confess to being: "Rangers Men", and who have the wherewithall and knowledge to save the club.

Whyte has to go, and soon - who is the Wee Fergus who will kick him out.

That will bring us to the next question - what happens next?