Ronald the Gorgeous Ayr-head

There was also, of course, plenty of water aimed in the direction of one James Grady but it wasn’t the surfeit of salty stuff from a crashing white horse. More like a surfeit of phlegm from the man they say’s built like a horse. We’ll have more on that sad little incident (the best way to describe Grady) later in the programme but, for now, we’ll get on with the business of describing the match in a perfect symbiosis of form and content: In other words, this match report’s gonnae be a bit of a chore, mostly boring and, in the end, you’ll be glad just to see the back of it.

Make no mistake, we played Ayr off the pitch. I’m the world’s worst watching worrier and, what with Ayr having a bit of a cup rep and us having the law of averages working against us (we’ve beaten Ayr far too often in various cups at various stages in recent years), Rangers’ failure to score in the first 78 minutes should have had me tugging at ma toupee in mortal terror. But until Amo started slipping on his own gobbings and allowing Ayr a couple of last-minute sniffs at a very vulnerable net, I just didn’t ever see us failing to win.

Maybe it was the old Freddy Nietzsche thinking, applied to watching The Gers’ recent SPL form: That which doesn’t cost them two points makes me stronger. In recent games against Hibs, Aberdeen, Dunfermline and Hearts, The Players’ve made us sweat for the win we need so badly. Perhaps us Red, White and Blue punters are getting hardened to the close-run-thing.

More like McLeish now has us utterly convinced Rangers will just keep winning. No, strictly speaking, this wasnt god enough but I think the Bears and Bearettes now appreciate that a team working so tirelessly on three fronts has to slip down a gear sometimes.

In fact, there was a strange aura of boredom to this game in Ayrshire. No Ricksen, no Maurice Ross and Arteta having to withdraw from proceedings so early should have seemed ominous … but naw. Ronald de Boer was putting on something of a micro-masterclass and despite Shota rattling one off the bar and Stephen Hughes - on for Mikel - having a mini-’mare, there was just no way Rangers were going to lose a goal or fail to score the one they’d need to progress.

In the end, our heroes took us as close as they possibly could on both requirments. We indeed scored just the one goal and we did all we could to let Ayr stick one past Steff. However, the two glaring chances we presented the Honest Men were embedded in a pattern of play so one-way, asking Grady or his young co-hort to put them away was like asking a rush hour driver to suddenly start reversing back along the motorway. It was just never going to be anything other than a clamity for the Honest Men when they were allowed a glimpse of Klos’s red shirt.

The only goal of the match was a little oasis of perfect finishing in a desert of fluffed, scuffed and muffed shots on Craig Nelson’s goal. Craig Nelson - remember him?!

They’ve changed the home end at Somerset and it’s just as well because Ronnie the Farmer deserved an adoring crowd to lap up his Derek-Johnstone-esque header into the back of the pokey hat (although we were probably shooting towards that end in the second half BECAUSE it was full of Bears … so that doesnae really work, I suppose).

The best part of the 78th minute decider was probably the brilliant control of the ball, evading of his opponent and cross into the box by Steven Thompson. Steven Thompson - remember him?! Also, the Dutch Master’s ability to outjump a central defender isn’t maybe as noteworthy when that defender is plying his trade in the Bell’s First Division most weeks. However, it was the entire repertoire of de Boer’s skills during the match which made this finish seem all the more sublime.

He’d dome it all: Dummies, shoulder dropping, back-heels, toe-poke passes, cross-field pint-pointers, cushioned headers and angled dinks to the toes of team-mates. So when, wearing the Red and Black socks, he chose the Willie Thornton/Jimmy Millar/Derek Johnstone aerial leap above the centre-hawf to gain a deadly advantage … ach, it wis just lovely. He then cushioned his header and guided it away into the inside of the foot of the post, rather than bulleting it through Nelson’s intestines - just to remind us he’s played for Barcelona.

The holders are through to the quarter-finals.

GERS: Klos, Muscat, Moore, Amoruso, Numan, Arteta (Hughes 21), Malcolm (Thompson 62), Ferguson, McCann (Caniggia 73), de Boer, Arveladze.

UNUSED SUBS: McGregor, Bonnissel.

YELLOW KERD: Numan.

THAT GOAL: de Boer 78.

PEEPOLE ON DA WEST-SIDE: 9,608

ARBITO: Alan Freeland