Greegsy is back at Ibrox as Staunchy McStauncherton works towards peak Staunchness while the Celtic board snoozes

Well, well, well…

So Greegsy is back at Ibrox.

I shit you not.

According to the Daily Record, Allan McGregor is making a “sensational return” to Rangers 1872 as their new goalkeeping coach.

Sensational???

A 44 year old former goalie, who retired in 2023, then un-retired, then got shoved out the door again, is now the man being “unveiled” at Auchenhowie like he’s just been signed from Real Madrid.

Stop the bus.

Let me get this straight.

Apparently, the “Ibrox icon” arrived at Auchenhowie at 8am on a Wednesday.

Nothing says “dedication to the cause” like a man turning up for work in the morning.

Because that’s what the Daily Record would like us all to believe.

You see, a “source” told them the “legendary goalie” would “do anything for the club”.

Anything.

Except, presumably, stay retired.

Now, I could sit here and pick apart the great Ibrox tradition of unveiling a goalkeeping coach as if it were the second coming.

I could point out that 13 “major honours” and 500-odd appearances doesn’t make you a coach.

It makes you a former player.

I could remind everyone that this is the same man who was No1 the year theym stopped ten-in-a-row.

The one blip.

The one “winning kulture” photo they’ve got left in the drawer.

But here’s the thing that actually matters.

While Derek “Siege Mentality” McInnes is out there working towards peak Staunchness, our board is fast asleep at the wheel.

Let me paint you the picture.

Over at Ibrox, Staunchy McStauncherton is building.

Out goes Sal Bibbo, the goalkeeping coach, off to join Frank Lampard at newly-promoted Coventry City.

In comes Greegsy, before the seat’s even gone cold.

A coaching team assembled at pace.

Players flooding in through the door.

The Stenography Corps typing it all up, breathlessly, as if Pep Guardiola himself was about to touch down at Glasgow Airport.

Rumour after rumour after rumour, all of it dutifully sold to the klanbase as “The Raynjurz are cummin”.

Of course they are.

They always are.

Now, compare that to what’s happening at Celtic Park.

As I said yesterday, absolutely nothing has changed.

We are in a total state of paralysis, and 24 hours has not moved the needle one single inch.

We are 31 days from the start of the Scottish Premiership.

And we have signed nobody.

Not a goalkeeping coach.

Not a striker nor a full back.

Nobody, I mean nobody.

Zilch. Zero. Nada.

Every other club in the country is building for next season, and our board sees doing absolutely nothing as the smartest way to defend a title.

Meanwhile, the players who could actually help St. Martin the Hunskelper are being lined up for the exit, not the arrivals lounge.

Sell first.

Sign nobody.

Replace never.

It was ever thus.

The Ibrox side can find the urgency to hire a goalkeeping coach at 8am on a Wednesday, but we can’t muster a decent transfer rumour on a good day?

Really?

Are we??

I actually get jealous scrolling Ibrox News, and it’s full to bursting with incomings.

And then I look at ours.

Nothing.

Not a thing.

Silence.

The same silence that echoes out of a boardroom run by Silent Mike Nicholson, with the absent golfing meddler rubbing his hands with glee from a sun lounger in Barbados.

Every pound a prisoner.

While theym are handing out coaching badges, our double billionaire is worrying about whether a bid crept over the magic number scribbled on the back of a beermat.

Jesus wept.

Make no mistake, none of this makes the Ibrox side good.

Let’s be honest here.

A 44 year old goalkeeping coach is not going to win anybody a league.

Big trouble ahead for Celtic?

Pull the other one… It’s got bells on.

Greegsy standing behind a training cone is not the reason I’d lie awake at night.

No.

The thing that should worry every single one of us is not what they’re doing at Ibrox.

It’s what we’re not doing at Celtic Park.

Because a club that stands still, in a summer where everyone else is moving, is a club asking to get caught.

And our lot have made standing still into an art form.

The bottom line is this – you don’t win titles on the good grace of your rivals being rubbish.

You win them by building.

By moving.

By actually signing a player before your best assets are flogged for “two magic numbers” profit.

The Ibrox side, for all their circus and all their nonsense, at least understand that you have to do something.

Our board thinks doing nothing is a masterstroke.

Trust the process, you bedwetter.

They know what they’re doing.

Aye.

I know nothing when I see it.

And that is exactly what this board is serving up.

Absolutely f**k all.

So let them fly Greegsy in and roll out the red carpet at Auchenhowie.

Let Staunchy McStauncherton reach peak Staunchness.

I don’t fear any of that.

What I fear is 31 days from now, a squad that hasn’t been added to, and a board still snoring in the corner.

Get it sorted.

Before the Staunch merchants across the city do it for us.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZ…

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