PowerGranger

Since I can remember, I've always loved football. I was never much good at it - a fact that perhaps intensified my love of the game. Watching those with skills you could only dream of possessing - cunning, power, pace, craft, verve - cross a white line and, for ninety minutes, dedicate their life to beating those that stood opposite them was the greatest thrill I could remember. For ninety minutes there was no famine or war and more importantly to me as a five year old there was certainly no homework, either. Just twenty two players and a man in black dutifully taking the inevitable and regular volleys of foul-mouthed abuse that were thrown his way. Never was this more clear to me that when I went to see my team. The mighty Rangers Football Club. To be a Ranger was to dare, and I was brought up in an era of McCoist and Hateley, Gascoigne and Laudrup, Kanchelskis and Van Bronckhorst. I remember sitting in front of the television, mouth open in amazement, as my team went south to battle. It was The Battle of Britain, champions vs champions. I remember Mark Hateley letting rip with his left foot, a half volley that not only silenced Elland Road but silenced the smug predictions of a Leeds walkover. I remember my dad rising out of his chair, each consecutive "go on" getting louder and more animated as Rangers broke on the counter. From John Brown's tackle to McCoist's diving header it was poetry in motion - a beautiful nail in the coffin. I was just a boy then, young and naive to the troubles in the west of Scotland. I had no idea what the beliefs of a Rangers fan were, all I knew was that I was one of the people. 19 years later and the man that plotted the humbling of Leeds is preparing for his last season in management. As a man in his twenties I have come to know about the beliefs that this colossus of football was built upon and, in my heart, I feel a sense of discomfort. There is no better way to quiet the voices of doubt than to have a common enemy and, in the foul-tempered, blood-thirsty season of 2010-11, we had that more than ever in Neil Lennon's Celtic. I remember watching the television with my dad, now a little older and a lot greyer, as Celtic imploded on a gloriously sunny day in Inverness. My mouth was wide open again, and I cheered louder than I did as a five year old. The night before the Kilmarnock game I couldn't sleep. I was haunted by the late season collapse of 2008 and the thought of the title eluding Walter Smith's grasp was enough to put me off my breakfast - a particularly difficult task. Those first 7 minutes against Kilmarnock are the most bittersweet memories of my love affair with Rangers. Never have I felt so exhilarated but, looking back, I know now that it was the beginning of the end - an apex of emotion and joy that I will never again know within the sport I love. During our annus horriblis that followed, I did what every fan did - I stood by my team in every way I could. I donated to the fighting fund, I continued to go to matches, I bought merchandise that I had no earthly requirement for and I still believed in Rangers. I remember having tears in my eyes during the AC Milan vs Rangers Legends match. Sitting with my dad near our old season ticket seats watching the players that had brought us even closer together. Seeing Ally McCoist, at the time as unifying as he is now divisive, come off the bench and lose his marker one last time was too much to bear. I wiped the tears from my eyes, thankful that my dad and I, against all odds, could see one more McCoist special. It’s been over two and a half years since that night, though, and I'm now confronted with a truth that I can no longer deny: I am no longer a fan of Rangers Football Club. As I've got older and more mature, the vitriol with which we hold our opponents has got too much for me. My best friend is Catholic, I've been to Catholic weddings and my grandmother was buried in a Catholic ceremony. To insult Catholics is to insult my family. To call someone a "bead-rattling bastard" because of the particular brand of Christianity they subscribe to is to say the very same thing to my grandmother. Beyond that, there is the claustrophobic, paranoid need for all fans to conform to the same stereotype and agenda. You must love the army, you must love the monarchy, you must love the Union, you must hate Catholics or anyone with a hint of sympathy for the Irish nationalism movement. To feel any differently is to not be a true fan. You are impure and a pale imitation - you are the Diet Coke of supporters. I don't love the army, I don't love the monarchy, I don't love the Union and I happen to broadly support the Irish nationalist movement. I do, however, love the club. With the diehard fans - those who shout the longest and the loudest, there can only be one way, though. They have claimed the club for their own. "It's always been the club's traditions", they say, conveniently forgetting that it was previously the tradition of the club to not sign Catholics, let alone appoint them club captains. Times change, and "tradition" is far too often a shield for intolerance, bullying and hatred to live behind. We live in a vibrant, mutli-religious country with a vast spectrum of political opinions. I wish our fans could be the same. I wish we could focus on the one thing we all love - the club. I was told by four Rangers fans the other day that I was a "fucking traitor" for daring to vote Yes in the upcoming independence referendum. I was told I was an embarrassment to the club and shouldn't consider myself a fan. Online, the abuse is even worse for those that dare to defy the status quo. On this forum, the very notion of being handed a flyer by a Yes campaigner at Ibrox (in response to the "NO" banner flown one week earlier) has been met with threats of physical violence. I don't need a group of mindless louts telling me how to vote and I don't need them telling me how to think. I cannot reconcile my world view and my belief in tolerance and equality with those that populate the online message boards and those that populate Ibrox. My father gave me the gift of my first Rangers jersey, and it was Walter Smith's team that made that jersey magical. Now, that has been taken away by a knuckle-dragging, lynch mob, ready to string a fellow fan up at a moment's notice. You can keep your team, and I'll keep my memories. It is difficult for me to imagine football without supporting a club. I will never be able to give myself to a team in the same way I did to Rangers, and I can only hope that the memories of the past 27 years are enough to sustain me. In time perhaps I'll look back with no bitterness and remember the good times without the taint of my current disillusionment. For now though, I bid my team farewell. Long may the mob mentality rule.

Whilst he's Italian PM, I don't see Berlusconi putting his hand back in his pocket, because realistically Milan's best player this season was a 34 year old central defender who was almost forced to retire due to chronic back injuries. As good as Nesta has been this season, they need fresh blood and a huge transfer kitty to get the job done. With the resources he's had available, I think Leonardo has done a reasonable job. I see Milan going into steady decline for a few years though, especially with money being pumped into teams like Napoli.

Darell King is a Rangers man, and to be honest I don't see why he's being vilified for reporting this. I'd love to think that he was some Celtic-minded hack who was delighting in making up scare stories but the sad reality is that the situation he's reporting is probably fairly close to reality, and I don't see how burying our heads in the sand and pretending that there's nothing really wrong is going to do any good.

Not to dismiss your selections but I'm curious, did you pick that team based on a unit of XI that you think would perform best together, or as the 11 individuals you rate the best in those positions, regardless of how they'd go together. As, if it's the latter, I'm a little perplexed at some of your choices - Baines, Heitinga and Montolivo especially. Not saying you're wrong as it's all about opinion, just wondering why you rate those particular 3 so highly. Y'know, conversation and all that

Buffon Alves Puyol Pique Cole L.Diarra Xavi Iniesta Messi Ronaldo Rooney

I think Ibra is one of the world's best players. I've been a fan since I seen him at Ajax and he's just grown and grown into a better player. I think he's given a bad press over here (in Britain) as the media's perception of football is that you need to charge around 100mph, chase down every ball and get "stuck in" - hence why when Tevez wasn't scoring he was still lauded for his attitude and Berbatov was castigated. Ibra's just not that type of player, in fact he's like all the truly great footballers in that he has a renegade streak to him, why defies the norm - Messi, Ronaldinho, Ronaldo (both the fat one and the Portugese), Zidane, Michael Laudrup - all of them had it and so does Ibra. I'm probably one of the people that think the deal to bring him to Barca was good business, in that it took ito consideration the future. Eto'o, who is undoubtedly a great striker (although I think he's overrated), is a year older than Ibra but, more to the point, a huge portion of his game is based on pace. He's had two serious knee injuries in the last few years which very well could catch up with him and therefore you could very well see a brutal decline in his game around the age of 31, as he doesn't have the other attributes to compensate for it. His positional sense isn't on the same level as Inzaghi, he's not got the aerial prowess of a Drogba (or Rooney ) and, despite his great goalscoring record, he's prone to profligacy in front of goal. Add to the fact that he was a disruptive element in the dressing room and wanted to be the best paid player at the club and you begin to see why he was moved on. Ibra is a year younger, has a proven scoring record in the most defensively solid league in the world (regardless of how you rate Serie A overall) scoring 25 league goals last season and practically carrying a very average and uncreative Inter team kicking and screaming over the Scudetto finishing line. Additionally, his game relies much less on pace so instantly he has more longevity at the top level than Eto'o, his technical skill and link up play is miles better and he offers an aerial presence at both ends of the pitch. Furthermore, from a psychological point of view I think it was important that Barca made a big signing this summer, rather than allow Madrid to hog the headlines and seize back the perceived initiative. So yeah, bit of a long post, but Ibra is one of my top 10 favourite players in the world and I tend to get quite long-winded when I defend him. I don't think it's fair to say he'll "come good" as his strike ratio is already pretty impressive, but I certainly think he'll become better as he aclimatises to Barca's style and the cultural differences. I expect him to hit the heights of his Inter form sooner rather than later.

Came to the club, gave his all for the club, brought success to the club, left the club (for a profit). Long live King Carlos, really glad he's doing well down in England. Also, that "diddy" Osasuna team he was a part of put us out in the UEFA Cup the season before he came. They weren't a bad team at all.

It really bothers me too, especially when, say,we're a goal down or something. That's when the team need the fans behind them. What bothers me even more, though, is people who come to games late. I'm not talking 5 mins late, I'm talking 30-40 mins late. It's insane.

You have got to be joking watched him last year used main dreadlocks flying behind him but basically cant kick his own arse.ly as a sub his distribution is awful cant cross a ball just another Emerson looks the part with the Have to really, really strong disagree bud. His form since he signed for Madrid has been patchy, partly due to being played out of position (sometimes deployed at left back) and partly, I'd say, down to not getting a proper run in the first team, but Drenthe is a quality player. I watched almost all of the U21 Championships two summers ago and, during an international tournament, I've never been more impressed with an individual's performance than I was with Drenthe's - great energy, solid in posession, pacey - he had it all. I think he just moved to Madrid too soon, instead of either staying at Feyenoord or going to a club where he could've been guaranteed first team football. If we'd managed to get Drenthe, I'd have hit the roof with excitement.

To the tune of YMCA (since he's outed himself) "It's fun to watch Je-Rome Ro-then play!"