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A review of Martyn Ramsay’s Revolution, Rangers 1986-1992

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A much-needed reappraisal of one of the most important periods in Scottish sporting life banishes the curse of the difficult second volume, although many of the themes and circumstances dissected may require trigger warnings for those of us currently concerned in the present.

Let me cut to the chase: you should buy Martyn Ramsay’s new book, because you will enjoy Martyn Ramsay’s newest book and – perhaps most importantly – Martyn Ramsay’s latest book will give you a lot to think about.

All told, it is an impressive effort, handling the political and societal realities of the period with as clear a command as the on-field changes and wider sporting impact brought about by the Ibrox club’s actions and reactions.

At the heart of this book is the twin thesis that only at this precise moment, in very particular circumstances, and with very specific people, could the Rangers revolution have happened and become the success that it undoubtedly was. And that, built-in to those assertions, when the wind changed it was very likely that some of those key figures would not last and pressures external would make for a very different level of influence and reality post-revolution.

The twelve chapters alternate between winding their way through these incident-packed seasons from 1986-1992 and providing the context for what helped make them so eventful in the first place. Never less than wildly entertaining – and superbly written throughout – these chapters engage the reader in a familiar story brought to life through the historian’s grasp of detail and the storyteller’s ability to make sense of a very complicated period: the changes in the game and how they came about both within and without these isles is not only at the heart of why this period is so important for Rangers but also show how we attempted to grasp and then relinquished – or more properly were denied – the chance to make what did happen (as violent as many of its consequences were) seem tame by comparison.

There is a sense throughout that Martyn has not only been thinking deeply about many of these games but has clearly been doing the research; his last book (and ongoing podcast efforts) allowed him the chance to revisit and rekindle the memories and focus in depth regarding a good number of these pivotal moments and the hard work continues to pay off for the author and the reader. The clippings, the season reviews, the old tapes and YouTube study all make for a breezy and always informative run through the what, when, and where. But it is, at least for me, in the consideration of the how and why that this all earns its plaudits.

For it is in those standalone essays where Ramsay finds the space to develop and broaden many of the themes that run through the chronological chapters and where the reader begins to appreciate the architecture of the book’s ideas and the true impact of the key factors allowing for and constraining the reach of this Rangers revolution. The chapter on Thatcherism and Souness makes a compelling case for the personalities that defined the time, and the discussion on the Maurice Johnston transfer is rich with passionate contemporary detail. The forensic dismantling of the very worst coverage of the developments at Ibrox re the signing policy and Mojo moving from villain to (just about) hero is a clear high point of the book – Ramsay’s ability to accurately and convincingly highlight the very real changes in Scotland through the decades and place the Old Firm rivalry both in a domestic context as a symbolic replacement for past loyalties and affiliations while highlighting the fundamental aspects in common with almost all longstanding sporting rivalries across the globe is masterful, and would not be out of place in an academic journal.

The people who have made a career out of the industrialization of the sectarianism industry at a time when the real indicators of societal change conclusively and permanently pointed in the contrary direction are revealed to be cynical at best, if not indeed demonstrably contemptible and dangerous, in a chapter punctuated by keen awareness of the recent research.

Looking back from 2023 it is remarkable to note quite how dramatically the game of football changed in the short number of years accounted for in this volume. Rangers appointment of Souness in the first place was more of a shock – even more startling and audacious a move – than the signing of Steven Gerrard in near contemporary times, and most readers (perhaps even the next First Minister of Scotland, assuming he has recovered from the shock) will not struggle to see the parallels between the men, their impact, and their strengths and weaknesses.

One of the biggest sliding doors in Ramsay’s narrative comes when Souness repeatedly makes the case that the set-up and the attitudes within Scottish football hold back clubs from being able to perform well in a European game that has left behind the emphasis on aggression and physicality that once flourished. Yet when presented with the chance to move towards a style and a recruitment policy to put his money where his mouth is a number of factors intervene (not least the the UEFA move towards restricting the number of foreigners each side can play) but Souness chooses the likes of Hurlock and Spackman in midfield. The general effect of player trading under Souness is highly successful – he spends big but recoups well, as he swiftly and effectively moves on players with little room for sentiment or dissent – but from a position of strength, especially after 1989, he fails to mould a side that could be expected to fulfil his ambitions.

The ability of the author to describe the ebb and flow of the seasons in question, and relate a staggering volume of factual information and detailed events without ever making it seem like a drag, is an underrated skill. There is so much going on throughout this period – not only on the field and at Park Circus but within the wider game – that the level of detail can seem overwhelming but here Ramsay uses the illuminating footnote to great effect, in a story that focuses not only on Rangers but how the rest of Scottish football did (and did not) react to the impact of this new footballing reality.

(As an aside – we need to always encourage the liberal use of footnotes in non-fiction: What’s not to like about a device that allows you the chance to delve with greater detail into the often weird world of George Galloway MP, throw out some Shakespearean comparisons, and marvel at Chick Young’s dinner plans, Pat Bonner’s crystal ball, or, for the anorak RSC, the bizarre fact that Rangers beat Hearts 5-1 in their next match after both the Berwick and Hamilton cup humiliations. The most striking note, however, concerns the moment on an April Sunday night when Rangers caught wind of the fact that Jim White had the story re the Souness arrival and hurriedly announced a press conference for 5 p.m. the next day, gazumping poor Jim who could do nothing about it until the next available slot on STV – which was the 6 p.m. show on the Monday. Boys and girls: welcome to the mid-1980s!)

Although Graeme Souness is correctly the chief focal point of the book, when dealing with other figures of note it’s clear that Ramsay is due a virtual pat on the back – perhaps most notably for successfully making the case that David Holmes deserves more credit than has commonly been awarded. It’s hard to think that a biography or even a long read piece for a periodical is ever likely largely because he was such a private man and much more interested in getting the job done than accepting all that would be inevitable once you step into the limelight, but it’s absolutely crystal clear that Holmes deserves all of the praise and importance granted to him here by the author.

The very deliberate cut-off point of 1992 allows the reader to look at the early impact of David Murray (the other David) with the respect and admiration that was then due, and the contrast between the methods and mannerisms of Souness and Smith are fascinating when viewed at this distance.

Those of us who greatly enjoyed Martyn’s first book and/or welcome his more sober and thoughtful contributions to the Heart and Hand podcast network will be delighted to discover that familiar tropes and targets do not slip past – the ongoing (gentle) ribbing of Messrs Hay and Burns for their very faithful, through and through, commitment to the Celtic way and the unashamed man love for Arrigo Saachi’s Milan side find room next to an increasingly vexed appraisal of the famous, somewhat sub-aquatic, 4-4 Ibrox draw that other people hold close to their hearts. Ramsay’s post-match reaction may not have matched that of David Holmes (not quite Henry II and his lament re Becket but close enough for poor Jock Wallace) but the ‘ridiculous farce’ is correctly put in its place.

A new anti-hero – Andy Roxburgh – now joins the gang, when the 1990 World Cup is placed under the microscope; not only did the Scotland manager seem to be slightly less than truthful regarding his selection process but he also committed the most serious of sins so fondly chosen by the intellectual – he completely disregarded the popular, and downright obvious, option and his refusal to pick the two men who were forming a great partnership at domestic level sunk the Scottish effort before many of us could work out quite where Costa Rica was on the map.

The author’s ability to be detached and even-handed – even when (re) considering a period he is honest enough to admit is his era (as it is mine) – is entirely commendable and I doubt there are many moments when even the most staunch fellow fan will find cause to disagree with his sentiments. The idea of the Rangers family fitting a homogeneous profile is effectively dismissed in a fascinating analysis of the types of voices expressed in the early years of the Follow, Follow fanzine and if Ramsay is (to my mind) a little too decent when discussing the appalling articles written in the immediate aftermath of the death of certain key old school Rangers figures then that is hardly the worst written crime of the century.

The Rangers revolution came about for a number of reasons. New ideas and new money (and ownership) allowed for a structure where decision-making was streamlined and not held back by committee or power bloc struggles. The expulsion of English clubs from European competitions allowed for an open window whereby the charismatic and cash-backed player manager could bring North players that would never have previously been available, as the investment in the club, professionalization of it as a business enterprise, and opening up of new revenue streams allowed a greater financial strength to be utilized.

Martyn Ramsay’s handling of these and other factors – most importantly how he explains and presents the ways Rangers exploited these openings but then faltered when outside factors began to pile up against them – demonstrate an expert grasp of the historical narrative.

English clubs would finally return from the margins after the Italian World Cup and the three foreigner rule devised in their absence would not only hurt the intended target. Moreover, there would be no British super league – instead, Sky would trump ITV and their gamble re the new EPL would pay off many times over. Rangers’ status as Britain’s biggest club would become a minor footnote as TV money became king. By 1992 the revolution was over.

In Ramsay’s next book we will see how after one last European hurrah matters domestic then begin to take precedence. And move toward a situation where the reputations of many who took part in that unfinished revolution change greatly, for better or worst.

He is due thanks for this latest work and if offering impatience for the arrival of the next seems a bit selfish then so be it: Standards at Rangers can never be allowed to slip.

Martyn’s book can be bought from all good retail outlets and directly at:

https://heartandhand.co.uk/revolution/

He can be found on Twitter, posting dog photos @hobbes_ff

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