The 19 years and 821 game wait for a ‘real Raynjurz’ manager is at an end, as Bazza gushes over the arrival of ‘Billy Boy Del’ – it’s all over for Celtic now…

Barry Ferguson is one happy bear today, that’s for sure.

He cannot hide his unbridled joy at the arrival of Derek ‘Billy Boys’ McInnes at Ibrox.

Finally, after 19 years and 821 games, (according to Bazza’s calculator anyway), a ‘real Raynjurz’ man has finally arrived at the stadium John Brown played for.

No pressure.

Because of course, the last ‘real Raynjurz’ man to arrive at Ibrox 19 years and 821 games ago was none other than ‘the cardigan’, Walter Smith.

Del boy has big boots to fill.

But, you know, because he’s one of theym, he knows what it takes to put the Ibrox club – in Barry’s eternal words – ‘back where they should be – at the top of Scottish football’.

Top guy Del boy, you know?

And a top manager too.

Except that he isn’t, but to Barry, that’s just a minor technicality.

Derek McInnes is a journeyman manager, who has floated around several clubs in the Scottish game, while winning the square root of f*** all during his almost 20 year career.

One major trophy to his name.

Which had to be won on penalties against Inverness Caledonian Thistle.

Mixed amongst a myriad of bottle jobs along the way.

But you wouldn’t think that when you read Barry Ferguson’s glowing endorsement of him in this morning’s Record:

Del played for the club and knows exactly what will be expected of him and his team.

But more than that, he’s shown with his wealth of experience that he is a top manager and a top person.

You don’t survive in the management game as long as the former St Johnstone, Bristol City, Aberdeen Kilmarnock and Hearts gaffer has if you’ve not got top credentials and I’m now looking forward to him putting all his nous to good use in the coming weeks and months as he strives to place R\\\\\*s back where they should be – at the top of Scottish football.

Let’s get one thing straight.

Del Boy played for the deid club.

We all know things were a hell of a lot different back then in comparison to the way they are now.

Long story and all that, I’ve told it many times before.

The current Ibrox entity is a completely different kettle of fish.

It looks the same and it talks the same, but there’s one fundamental thing missing.

It doesn’t win the same.

Barry, mate, you’ve just told on yourselves.

Because buried in amongst all the gushing, the big man went and said the quiet part out loud.

And I really do hope this is the end of the revolving door of bosses coming and going at Ibrox.

McInnes is the eighth full-time appointee in the last nine years and frankly that’s just too many.

The eighth.

In nine years.

Read that one back, Barry.

Eight managers in nine years, and the *masterplanner* has finally noticed it’s a wee bit much.

Stop the bus.

This is the same man who was one of those appointees, lest we forget.

P45 and all.

So who, exactly, was spinning that revolving door, Barry??

Was it big bad Celtic again?

Or was it the club you keep telling us has been allowed to lose its way by some shadowy outside force?

Convenient, isn’t it??

Rangers is no stepping stone, says Barry. No, Barry. It really isn’t.

This bit is my favourite.

I’m sick and tired of seeing other managers coming here using Ibrox as a stopping off point en route to what they might believe is a bigger club or bigger league.

I want to make this clear. Rangers is no stepping stone.

You’re right, Barry.

It isn’t.

Because you’re not stepping up from a club that finished third.

There’s no bigger job waiting for the man who takes over the third best team in Scotland.

Behind Celtic.

And behind Hearts.

Nobody is leaving Ibrox for a bigger gig, Barry, for the very simple reason that there isn’t one to leave for.

That’s not loyalty.

That’s the ceiling.

But you keep telling yourselves it’s a calling.

And here, peepul, Barry confesses to the bottle job in black and white.

Watch this one closely.

Because this is Barry Ferguson, the in-house romantic, quietly admitting his ‘real Raynjurz’ men shat the bed.

The cracks in the squad’s psyche was evident in the final weeks of the season as they crumbled under the intensity of the title race pressure.

They was evident, wasn’t they?

Crumbled.

Under the intensity of the title race pressure.

His words, not mine.

So let me get this straight.

For weeks we’ve had the SMSM tell us the title was taken from them.

By skullduggery, and big bad Celtic.

By anything other than the obvious.

And now their own man tells us the truth.

They crumbled.

Cracked.

Shat the bed.

They bottled it.

But you know who else did too, Barry?

Real Raynjurz man Del Boy, who was of course, a real Gorgie man that day.

On the last day of the season, with 3 minutes of normal time left on the clock?

All he had to do was hold out for the draw.

That’s all he had to do.

But he crumbled, bottled it.

Then he raged, and lashed out, told his players to leave Celtic Park.

Because there was no Fenian blood to be up to his knees in that day, and that galled him.

Still does.

Still will next season.

Fact.

Strengthen yourself by weakening your opponent, says Barry. Aye, the other opponent.

Then comes the masterstroke we’re all supposed to applaud.

By taking both the captain and the manager from one of your main rivals, Andrew Cavenagh and Jim Gillespie will hope that they have dealt the Jambos a huge blow before a ball is kicked this season.

It’s the kind of thing the best Rangers sides have always done down the years – strengthen yourself by weakening your opponent.

Mugging Tony Bloom.

That’s the masterplan.

Eh Tone, who’s gonna have the last laugh there, one wonders?

But Not beating Celtic.

Weakening the team that finished above you, and calling it a power move.

Captain and manager, lifted from Tynecastle, like that’s a statement of intent and not an admission of where the bar now sits.

The best Rangers 1872 sides used to weaken Celtic, Barry.

This lot are reduced to weakening Hearts.

And we’re meant to be worried.

Give me a f*****g break.

Manager, not head coach. Indeed.

And the big man wasn’t finished there.

Both Russell Martin and Danny Rohl worked under the banner of ‘head coach’ last season.

But being a coach is only one part of the gig at Ibrox.

A manager.

Not a head coach.

The job title is the problem, apparently.

Not the trophy cabinet.

Here’s a wee newsflash for you, Barry.

Titles don’t win you anything.

Results do.

And Del boy’s results, across almost two decades in the dugout, amount to one League Cup, won on penalties, in 2014.

Beale had a fancy title.

Clement had a fancy title.

Martin had a fancy title.

Röhl had a fancy title.

None of them won the league.

And now Del boy gets the grandest title of the lot.

The same Del boy who led a title race from August to the 87th minute of the final day.

And Heartsed it.

But hey, he’s a manager now.

So that’s that sorted.

So enjoy the gush, Barry.

Please enjoy the 19 years and 821 games.

Enjoy the ‘real Raynjurz’ man, the one who said no to this very job in 2017 when it was sitting on a plate in front of him.

Enjoy telling us a man with one major trophy in twelve years is the answer to all your prayers.

Because here’s the bottom line.

You cannot dress up a nearly man as a saviour.

And come February, when the title is on the line and the pressure is back on, we already know exactly how this one ends.

The same way it always ends with Del boy.

He’ll fold like a cheap deckchair.

While St. Martin the Hunskelper quietly gets on with the business of winning things on the other side of the city.

Six-in-a-row incoming, peepul.

It’s all over for Celtic now, right enough.

End of.

Barry Ferguson (EBT £2.5 million).

Nuff said.

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