The ancient dance of nonsense at Celtic Park

Walk into a pub in Glasgow on a derby day and you’re treated to a sensory assault that feels like a time capsule from 1974. We are sitting here in April 2026, staring down the barrel of the end of the season, yet the discourse around the Old Firm is as stagnant as a puddle in the Gorbals. You see these stand-offs, these choreographed shows of force near the stadium, and you have to wonder who exactly they are for.

It’s not intimidating. It’s just exhausting. We’ve all seen the videos of groups marching like they’re preparing for a reenactment of Agincourt, shouting at police horses as if the horses have any say in the league coefficient or the latest disciplinary committee report from the SFA. It’s a performative circus that belongs in a museum, not on the streets surrounding a football match that is meant to decide the fate of the Scottish Premiership.

The ultras label is doing way too much heavy lifting

Stop calling these groups ultras. That term implies a level of devotion to the tactical setup or the club’s institutional values that simply doesn’t exist here. These guys aren’t dissecting the merits of a 4-3-3 versus a three-man backline; they are busy trying to prove they can occupy a street corner for twenty minutes longer than the other guys. It’s the football equivalent of a professional wrestling stable deciding to have a mid-card brawl in the parking lot while the main event is happening inside.

The clubs—Celtic and Rangers—have spent years playing this game of internal politics where they pretend their respective problematic elements are just "passionate supporters" until the headlines get too loud. Then, the statements come out. You know the ones. The copy-pasted corporate jargon about "protecting the reputation of our historic institution" while essentially doing nothing to stop the knuckle-draggers from ruining the matchday experience for actual fans who just want to watch strikers like Kyogo Furuhashi put the ball in the net.

Why the silence from the top is deafening

If you genuinely love this sport, you should be embarrassed. When you compare the behavior of these groups to the atmosphere at a Champions League night elsewhere in Europe, the contrast is stark. Other clubs have successfully managed to integrate fan culture without the constant threat of public disorder, yet in Glasgow, the clubs seem content to treat these stand-offs as a necessary evil. It is a failure of leadership that dates back decades, and frankly, it reeks of complacency.

Look at the events of the last few years. Every time there is a high-profile incident, we do the same dance. The media goes on a three-day bender of moral outrage, the clubs issue a statement that carries the weight of a wet paper bag, and then we reset until the next fixture. It’s a cycle of mediocrity. The players on the pitch are putting in 90 minutes of high-intensity football, often managing to maintain a level of professional conduct despite the stakes, but the scene outside the ground makes it look like the game is secondary to the street theater.

The fantasy of the 'passionate supporter' needs to die

Listen, I get it. The tribalism is supposed to be the point of the Old Firm. It’s the selling point for the broadcasters and the reason people fly in from halfway around the world to stand in the rain. But there is a massive line between backing your team with everything you have and treating a public street like a private ring for a street fight. It was tired in the nineties, it was annoying in the two-thousands, and right now, it is just plain depressing.

These groups are not saving the history of their clubs; they are dragging it through the mud. You want to talk about passion? Try filling the stadium with noise, color, and support that actually helps your team win a 1-0 scrap when they are down to ten men. Instead, we are left discussing whether the local police managed to keep the peace, which is a conversation that serves absolutely nobody. When the biggest talking point of the week isn't a goal or a tactical masterclass, but rather a bunch of overgrown toddlers standing in a square, the game has failed.

It’s time for the authorities and the clubs to stop protecting these small pockets of influence inside their fanbases. If you want to hold the title of the biggest derby in the world, start acting like it. The 50,000 plus fans inside the stadium deserve a product that isn't overshadowed by the idiocy happening outside the gates. We have a massive summer of international football approaching, and honestly, the behavior in Glasgow is just a bad look for the country. It’s time to grow up and let the football be the only thing that matters.