Rangers ultras’ firework shame risks MORE Copland Stand chaos and closures – it put tin lid on bad night for Light Blues

WHAT kind of halfwits let off fireworks inside a packed football stadium?

What level of numbskullery does it take to put your OWN goalkeeper at risk by launching them straight over his head?

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Tens of thousands who sat slack-jawed watching what unfolded inside Ibrox with seven minutes gone here know the answer.

The kind of halfwits who call themselves the most fanatical of Rangers supporters. The kind of clowns capable of numb- skullery that genuinely blows your mind.

A gang given pride of place in the bottom tier of the revamped Copland Road end, who dress themselves in black, arm themselves to the teeth with pyrotechnics — and who don’t give a toss what harm they might do to those around them, to their own players, to their club.

As their team pushed for an opening goal up the other end, they lit up a barrage of burning red flares.

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Then, unbelievably, disgracefully, rockets started to bang and crackle above Jack Butland’s penalty box.

It was sheer lunacy and, without question, there’s a hefty Uefa fine speeding towards Edmiston Drive for it.

But, let’s be honest, that might be the least of it.

Because if the beaks are in a right bad mood, a stand that’s barely been reopened for two minutes might well be closed again come the next Europa League night.

This minute or so of madness — clearly pre-planned and quite obviously a message from these so-called Ultras to authorities who want to temper their behaviour — really was that serious.

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And as the skies exploded and smoke billowed across the pitch, tens of thousands of REAL Rangers supporters let the halfwits know all about it with a storm of boos.

As with their rivals across the cityordinary punters who just want to watch their heroes play football are sick to death of this kind of nonsense.

They’ve had enough of these gangs being indulged, being allowed to go where they like and do what they like.

You just wonder whether the inevitable fallout from this nonsense might force the club into taking action — as Celtic previously did by banning the Green Brigade — before the decision’s taken for them.

Those shameful scenes put the tin hat on a night when Rangers were every bit as bad as they’d been impressive in Malmo seven nights before.

Pre-match, Philippe Clement had admitted they’d take a draw against a Lyon side who “came from a different world” financially.

Before long, it seemed as optimistic a wish as landing a Lotto rollover and the Euromillions jackpot in the same week.

James Tavernier blasted against the keeper’s legs three minutes in.
Vaclav Cerny somehow scooped over an open goal from four yards soon after.

Tom Lawrence tapped home on 14 after the French defence made a hash of Jefte’s cross from the left.

Those were the highlights Clement has to look back on.

Everything else was all about the pace, movement, footwork and finishing of an outfit sitting halfway down Ligue 1 but many, many divisions better than a dishevelled, dispirited home side.

In wingers Rayan Cherki and Malick Fofana, they had two absolute geniuses, a pair who swept effortlessly across the turf, who went past defenders as if they weren’t there, who made football look a very beautiful thing indeed.

Their stepovers, their feints, their acceleration and delivery; it was all too much for Rangers, it left them panting almost as heavily as Celtic had been in Dortmund 48 hours before.

The one saving grace — for Scottish football as much as for Clement and Co — is that it wasn’t another seven-ful, because it really could have been. At times, as the bar was rattled and Butland flung himself to make point-blank blocks, it was a shooty-in.

But if you really want a stat that shows just how little of a glove Rangers laid on the opposition, here it is.

On 71 minutes, Lyon midfielder Jordan Veretout went into German ref Sven Jablonski’s book. It was the first foul the French had committed all night.

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Imagine that. Imagine going away from home at any level, to any venue and not having to leave a foot in or tug a shirt to help get the job done.

Imagine being so in control that all you have to worry about is finding the right pass, making the right run.

For me, that is as accurate a measure of the gap between these sides as the scoreline itself.

On European nights gone by, Ibrox has forced top players with top sides into losing their shape, into lunging and shoving and kicking their way through the onslaught coming at them.

Here, a Lyon side criticised back home for being below the standards its predecessors have set could have swanned around in carpet slippers and not got their toes bruised.

And, yes, the class of players their other-wordly budget lets them buy played a part in that.

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Not too long ago, though, Dortmund, Leipzig, Braga all went away from Ibrox well beaten and they were all on a different financial planet too.

But those were the days when you couldn’t buy the fight Rangers had.

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