Right back at ya! (CIS LEAGUE CUP FINAL: GERS … 2 ce**ic …1)

We HAD been asking for it. When Kenny Clark was eventually forced to point to our penalty spot - in the traditional celtic goal-scoring time of one minute from the end - there was no doubt The Rangers had been almost willing Sellik to level things since the outset of the second half.

Having run them ragged for a scintillating 23-minute period of passing football at the end of the first half, and generally putting the shitters up them throughout the entire opening 45 with our counter-attacking brilliance, Eck’s men seemed determined to give the ball to sellik at every opportunity during the second period.

What’s worse, it was guys like de Boer and Arteta - our most skilful holders of the ball - who insisted on gifting the smellies possession when there was absolutely no need for it to happen. It got to the point where I thought McLeish had decided he was going for maximum and unnecessary levels of revenge for last Saturday’s game - I was sure our players had been told to FORCE extra-time on sellik, to make their preparations for this Thursday’s Anfield trip even more exhausting than they already were. We didn’t just want to win the League Cup - we wanted to do it in a way which also put sellik out of Europe!

So, when Amo knocked that wee skinny slip of a lad Bobo Balde to the ground just as the stopwatch struck 89, it was no great shock. By that stage of the match I’d come to believe a celtic equaliser was actually the culmination of Rangers’ game-plan. When Stef went the wrong way it was even less of a shock. As Hartson placed the ball towards our keeper’s right, I was convinced Klos had gone SO far to his left in order to guarantee a successful conversion. I barely even bothered looking to see the ball resting in the corner of the net. Where else was it gonnae go? Well, apparently it went a TAD further to Stef’s left than Hartson intended. From what I can remember through the earth-trembling mayhem which immediately ensued, the fat man in green actually slipped it past the OUTSIDE of the post. Erm … Hartson, like Paul “League Cup Final” McStay before him, missed the penalty!

This was the same Hartson who, earlier in the half had already made it 2-2 only for a linesman in apron and associated regalia to flag for a mythical offside. It’s amazing to think we HAVE experienced tension like this in previous Old Firm wins but surely there’s never been a victory over the whiffy ones which combined so much nail-biting with so much belly-bursting laughter. This was absolutely fekin HILARIOUS! I’ve just watched it again on video and, folks, you just HAVE to see wee Martin’s touch-line antics.

The man who always has his trackey bottoms tucked firmly into his socks for extra- enthusiastic bounce-iness put on a show today which was worthy of a Buster Keaton movie. Up he goes, past the height of the Hampden roof, as Hartson knocks the ball into our net - by the time he’s back on the deck, the goal’s been chopped off and his wee face is a picture of distress. Oh, look at Marti go - he’s off to give that linesman a damn good piece of his mind! “Extraordinary”! Classic.

And, just two minutes before the penalty miss of the century, we have the sending-off of the decade. Neil “I’m fly, me” Lennon smacks his second Rangers face in the space of 120 seconds and the yellow he received for raising his arms at Ricksen (thought that was a straight red, myself) is joined by another yellow for decking a speeding Shota Arveladze. Going up the tunnel, wee Lenno has a side-ways glance at the Rangers section of the main stand. Don’t tell me some unsporting Bear was baiting that pair fellah in his moment of pain!!

Of course this was all ample evidence of the massive SFA / SFL / SPL / UEFA / FIFA conspiracy aginst Sellik, particularly evident in their games against Rangers. The professional victims were also greetin about one or two other penalties they didn’t get in the second half. An Amo shoulder charge on Larsson looked a better claim than the one they were eventually awarded and they do have the right to moan about the offside goal that never was.

However, I think you’ll find Bobo Balde actually decked two Rangers players in the space of two minutes at the end of the first half. In seperate, off-the-ball incidents the huge sellik centre-hawf tried strangling Peter Lovenkrands before throwing our Dane to the ground - INSIDE the sellik penalty area - and then creeped up behind Michael Mols and felled our man with a cowardly smack to the side of the head. Neither incident was spotted by anyone other than the TV cameramen. Before all this Valgaeren had slid in on Stef with his studs showing, some thirty minutes or so after the German goalie’d safely caught the ball. This was the same Valgareen who blocked a Ricksen shot in their box with his FOREARM. But it’s only celtic - who’ve now been awarded penalties against Rangers at Ibrox, Parkhead and Hampden sice the last time we were awarded a penalty in an Old Firm match - who are ever hard-done by. Or maybe it’s only celtic who MOAN about it.

And talking of Balde, one other laugh of the day was the realisaton of an event I predicted in print a few months ago. I don’t know if you read When Saturday Comes or if you’ve seen the chapter in the fourth edition of their Always Next Year book in which I slag the Bears who racially abuse Balde. If you did, you’ll maybe remember I predicted it was just a matter of time til his over-zealous use of his huge physique - particularly in aerial challenges - would break someones’ bones. Well today the Guinea international launched himself over-zealously at a corner ball floated into our box and, in the process, managed to break the wrist of one CHRIS SUTTON! Somewhat poetic, don’t ya think.

But not as poetic as the goals which won us our 23rd league Cup and our fourth straight Old Firm final:

We’d started off in defensive mode. The smellies had all the possession but, unlike last week, we looked composed and comfortable in our rearguard action. By the end of the half, Stef had made just one serious save and his brilliant touch-over from a Larsson shot was only necessary because Amo, in acres of space, had gifted the ball to Hartson. When Big Renzo starts giving the ball away like that you know Rangers are miles on top. When Amo gets careless, it’s because he’s bored.

The reason for this boredom was our complete control of proceedings. Even when celtic enjoyed greater possession, our counter-attacks were tearing them to bits. Arveladze and McCann had been dropped from last Saturday’s starting line-up to be replaced by Caniggia and de Boer. Michael Mols also returned to the first eleven and Lovenkrands returned to full match fitness.

After a few trial runs, such as an early Caniggia overhead kick and then a Valgaeren goal-line clearence of a Lovenkrands shot, sellik became too nervous to push up so much. This allowed us to build more patiently from the back and, in the 23rd minute, a lovely nine-pass sequence, which took in most of our team and almost all of the pitch, culminated in de Boer sending Peter L through the inside-left channel. Our Dane whipped a shot across the front of their goal, Douglas could only parry, Mols couldnae reach it but Caniggia, coming in late from the right, got to it before Balde and slotted calmly home from around six yards. Picture-book.

More panic and mayhem beset Scotland’s sole European representatives whenever we ran at them thereafter and it was obvious there was going to be more goals. It’s actually something of a scandal we only made it one more goal but it was one worth seeing.

Again it was on-the-deck, cool, sharp, incisive passing fitbaw of the highest order and again it tore sellik to ribbons. Also, again, you HAVE to re-watch it if you got it on video. The ball is worked from wing to wing, from front to back and up front again and eventually, some eighteen touches since a celtic player made contact with the ball, the excellent Bonnissel feeds Mikey Mols up that bountiful left flank. Mike’s come deep to evade psychotic Bo-Bo, he does his contol-and-turn-in-a-oner move then puts the ball on a plate for Lovinpants. Slippery Pete’s judged his run perfectly and he’s all the time he needs to pick a spot behind Douglas.

That was it. The guy who scored twice in last season’s CIS final and who scored against Hibs and Dunfermline enroute to this year’s, made it 1-0. The guy who just loves scoring against Celtic made it 2-0. 34 minutes on the clock and, at that stage, you’d never have believed it would be the end of our scoring. You have to credit o’Neill’s numpties for the way they came back in the second half - particularly as they fielded their ever-so-busy first eleven - but you also have to credit Rangers for keeping them to just one goal - particularly as we were so keen to let them have the ball for all fifty minutes of the second period. With the sun glancing over the top of the main stand directly into Stef’s eyes, he knew nothing about Larsson’s near-post header from a 57th minute corner until it smacked our Teutonic net-minder in the coupon enroute to the back of the net. But a few minutes later Stef knew ALL about a point-blank header from the same player. Klos pushed it over the bar with a world class reaction.

We’ve won the League Cup and, more importantly, we’ve taken the earliest possible opportunity to make amends for last week’s setback against the very same team. Now it’s back to SPL business, now it’s back to giving the League Cup and Scottish Cup another friend to play with in the Ibrox trophy room.

After today, The Rangers are once again CLEAR favourites for the title. Winning this cup, beating celtic in this cup, beating celtic in a cup final - after only fifteen months in the job, none of these achievements are new to Alex McLeish. But what The Gers gaffer achieved today was put the last and probably most vital characteristic of any truly great Rangers manager onto his CV. He showed he could come back with a bang in the wake of a major defeat. Even when he get’s things wrong, these days, McLeish is getting things totally right for Rangers.

THE 2002/2003 LEAGUE CUP WINING TEAM: Klos, Ricksen, Amoruso, Moore, Bonnissel (Ross 64), Caniggia, Arteta (Konterman 78), Ferguson, de Boer (Arveladze 86), Mols, Lovenkrands.

UNUSED SUBS: McCann, McGregor.

BOOKED: Amoruso.

SCORERS: Caniggia 23, Lovenkrands 35.

PUNTERS: 52,000

12th MAN: Kenny Clark.