Alright, folks, let’s dive into the realm of Scottish football and address a topic that seems to be making waves—Barry Ferguson. Now, to be clear, Barry was a pretty good player in his day. He certainly had his moments on the field with Rangers. But let’s not kid ourselves. Is he the answer for Rangers? Does he hold any sort of solution to their current problems? Can he fix anything that’s broken? In a word: no.

First off, we need to talk about expectations. In my opinion, when people start throwing around names like “Ferguson” in Rangers-related discussions, they’re grasping at straws. And it seems to me like they’re doing so because nostalgia, always a double-edged sword, has cut them deep. Sure, Barry was the captain during some of the club’s greatest triumphs over the last couple of decades, but those triumphs were collective efforts. Just because someone once wore the armband doesn’t mean they have some magical powers that will allow them to fix whatever’s gone wrong at your club now.

Let’s be real for a second: just because you were an ex-player doesn’t mean you automatically qualify to be a good coach or manager. Remember when everyone thought that having former players transition into management was a good thing? How did that work out for Paul Gascoigne, or even Frank Lampard, at Chelsea? It wasn’t great, was it? So why should we put all our hopes on Ferguson, just because he knows the dressing room? It’s like thinking anyone who ever kicked a ball can suddenly think like a Pep Guardiola! The myth of this “Rangers DNA” and its effectiveness is something that needs to be tackled, too.

And let’s not forget the whole “Rangers DNA” myth that’s out there. What exactly does that mean? Does it mean you somehow automatically know what to do to make the team successful? Somehow, I doubt it. As I said earlier, the work of a good manager isn’t just about doing the obvious; it’s about the tough decisions. And it’s about being able to do that in the hard times as well as the good. If it were as easy as just doing things the “Rangers way” (whatever that is), then maybe the club would have found a way to make Gerrard’s time in charge more successful than it was.

Let’s also take timing into account. Jumping into management isn’t just about who you were as a player—it’s about what you can do right now as a manager. The game changes. New strategies pop up all the time. Ferguson might have been a great player, but does he keep up with today’s game? Does your average fan think he could be a great manager? Or is it more like one of those guys who can tell you (with some justification) that they know more about football than anyone at a club, but then they don’t actually have to prove it in the cauldron of a modern match day?

To wrap things up (and I assure you, I’m not just digressing here), Barry Ferguson evokes warm recollections for a significant number of Rangers supporters and deservedly so. However, fantasies involving Ferguson as a panacea for the current ailments at Ibrox are, at best, extravagant wishful thinking; at worst, they’re delusional. By all means, keep dreaming big—just don’t do so with the kind of rose-tinted vision that focuses on former players who are unlikely to be effective in the modern game.