http://www.rangers.co.uk/news/football-news/article/2757323
She had been battered, raped and pillaged for several months. Every fresh blow seemed to bring her closer to that final crushing blow. Like a wounded animal she tried to stand on her feet, to regain her dignity and honour, but the attacks were relentless and to the shame of all, none would come to her aid.
And finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the end was near. The Haters, Vultures and Ghouls made their way towards Ibrox for the telling knockout blow. In the interests of “sporting integrity” a boxing referee was enlisted to deliver the final count.
At the doors of Ibrox they were met by two sentinels who barred their way. Alistair McCoist and Lee McCulloch. It was pointless asking them to move. Neither would walk away.
“Start the count” demanded one of the haters. And so it began.
But not as as they had expected.
10....9....8
“Wait, wait your counting wrong” screamed the haters.
7...6....5
The two sentinels were no longer alone. For on either side of them filing quietly into line were unknown faces wearing Rangers shirts with No. 12 on the back. They didn't need names on the back, it was the badge on the front which was important to them. There were young and old, sprightly and infirm, the capable carried the less capable lest they stumbled.
As the count continued the numbers, grew, and grew, and grew, until thousands joined the two sentinels barring the way to Ibrox.
The silence was broken momentarily when a whisper filled the air, some say to this day it came from within the walls of Ibrox itself....... “We’ve got the battle fever on”
“Who are these people?” asked one of the haters.
Ally McCoist stepped forward....... “Allow me to introduce you to my No. 12's......they don't do walking away either”
And so it began.
In years to come Rangers historians will recite stories of Baxter, Woodburn, Cooper, Laudrup, McCoist, Gough and of course of No. 12.
In the coming months news outlets will feature stories about the No. 12's – the fans who would not let their club die.
Their loyalty, faith and passion in a football club will capture the imagination of nations.
They will become the benchmark which other supporters aspire to.
Whatever is thrown at them or their club No.12's will come back for more, time and time again until eventually our detractors can thrown no more.
Wherever their club goes the No. 12's will be there. And every other Saturday Ibrox will be filled with No. 12's.
Our children's children will proudly tell their friends at school that their grandfather was a No. 12.
No. 12's will be the topic of conversation every Monday morning, in factories, offices, wherever people assemble.
Newspaper columns will mention the No.12's in the same breath as resilience and a never say die spirit.
Who am I and how do I know all this ?
Im a No. 12 and Im about to take my place in history.
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