It is never less than amusing when a player whose C.V. traverses both north and south of the border, is asked to compare the Merseyside derby, or the North London derby, to an Old Firm dust-up between Rangers and Celtic.
They try to hide a smirk, they really do. They try to be diplomatic and offer a politician’s answer.
The humour lies in them hopelessly failing each and every time. Their face betraying them. Their words careful but revealing.
Because the indisputable truth is that when it comes to electrifying atmospheres and visceral meaning, to searing joy in the heart, or searing pain in the gut, no fixture in British football is in the same stratosphere as an Old Firm clash.
The same can be said too of the most fractious affairs the continent can offer, though perhaps Spain’s Clasico comes close. Even then, it’s close but no cigarillo.
Whether battle commences at Ibrox, Parkhead, or at Hampden Park in one of the numerous closely fought finals they’ve competed in down the decades, with little to separate them in the live betting, when these sides meet 135 years of hostility, religious and political divide, mutual loathing, and a fundamental difference in identity is all fused together into one tremulous stadium, packed full of natives ready for war-fare.
And somewhere amongst it all there just happens to be a football.
The games are frenetic, feisty, played at a thousand miles an hour, and woe betide any player who shirks a challenge, not that anyone would dare.
From the days of black and white to technicolour splashes of blue and green some truly wonderful and gifted players have graced this encounter, but even they roll up their sleeves for this one, propelled by a level of adrenaline that is usually reserved for hanging off a cliff.
Ready to die – but thankfully not literally – for the cause.
Brian Laudrup, that most stylish and artisan of talents, called the games ‘terrifying’ but loved every minute. Graeme Souness insists an Old Firm is the world’s ‘most special derby’ and for good reason.
And the cause being chased and fouled for is always ultimately the winning of three points, no matter how loud the songs are celebrating their religious leanings and castigating the beliefs of a rival fan-base each hates with a passion.
It’s a passion that frightens from afar and yet is infectious, and it’s often wondered how Rangers vs Celtic would fare if their frightening, infectious football was transported to the English top-flight. What would their Premier League odds be?
But this is a Scottish stramash right down to its marrow and should always be wholly that. It’s embedded to a place – Glasgow - but not a time, because history seeps into every matchday, informing, dividing, making every meeting between them infinitely bigger than eleven players taking on eleven players.
And we, the outsiders, watch on, aghast and transfixed in equal measure. Voyeurs to a pitched-battle we only half understand but totally get.
It would be a once-in-a-lifetime experience to be there. One to tell your grandkids about. Try saying that about Arsenal v Spurs.
*Credit for all of the photos in this article belongs to AP Photo*
FIRST PUBLISHED: 28th February 2023
