Real life is now on hold
Last updated 4th Nov 2019
There will be supporters on both sides of the Old Firm divide who will now be unable to digest solids until mid December.
The reason for that is simple. It is time to baton down the hatches, extinguish all smiles and accept that all leave is cancelled.
There is an Old Firm Cup final on the way. A Glasgow derby with consequences.
The month of December might be synonomous with with the season of Christmas for those of a naively innocent nature.
For those of a political persuasion it might even mean the month in which a General Election will be held to address matters of national importance.
But neither event will have any relevance for those for whom the rivalry between two football clubs is the reason for their existence.
The polling stations and the Nativity will mean nothing compared to the first cup final for years between Celtic and Rangers where the outcome is debatable.
Real life has now gone into a state of suspended animation.
The pair of them have met at Hampden since Rangers went into liquidation, but not when the winner of the game could go upstairs to lift a trophy.
There was a Scottish Cup semi-final which Rangers won on penalties but it turned out to be the worst thing they ever did.
The Ibrox hierarchy, so legend as it, celebrated their win so enthusiastically in the Hampden boardroom afterwards that it annoyed Celtic's principal shareholder, Dermot Desmond, to the extent that he got rid of Ronny Deila and entered new realms of employment remuneration to bring in Brendan Rodgers.
That appointment of a new manager, plus a cup final defeat from Rangers at the hands of Hibs, put the Ibrox club's celebrations at a peep.
So much so, Celtic will be going for an unprecedented tenth successive domestic trophy when they meet Rangers in the Betfred Cup final on December 8.
It will be an epic confrontation for all the right reasons and Superscoreboard will tonight open the platform for a frank exchange of views on who will win the match.
Assumptions will be presented as hard facts.
Comparisons will be made with no room left for contradiction.
Hostility will be as inevitable as it will be predictable.
And my dad will very definitely be bigger than your dad.
We would have it no other way.
We have absolutely no choice in the matter in any case.
It should be the cause of healthy anticipation that the two sides are coming together in a national final when they look to be evenly matched for the first time in years.
The job that Neil Lennon and Steven Gerrard have done to bring Celtic and Rangers to within one goal of each other at the top of the Premiership table is worthy of praise.
The cup semi-final dismissal of Hibs and Hearts over a twenty-two hour period at Hampden brought a free flowing brand of football that was rightly lauded for its entertaining nature.
Now the final will find one side, Celtic, going for an unprecedented domestic distinction.
The other, Rangers, will be seeking a tangible achievement which vouches for their re-emergence as a credible force after years in the wilderness.
It could not be a more intriguing and absorbing occasion.
There will, of course, be unwanted elements contained within the lead up to, and the say of, the final which will leave those of a nervous disposition distinctly queasy.
But that is an unavoidable and unpalatable by-product of a deeply divided city.
The task facing two diligent managers and two sets of highly gifted players is to rise above the miasma of malevolence which will surround the game and provide a spectacle worthy of the occasion.
And then there are the consequences.
You can't examine Rangers' latest published accounts and say they look good. They don't.
The club needs success on the park to help clear their feet and take them forward to the day when there is a sustainable business model in place as opposed to getting by on loans from month to month.
Rangers' future is predicated on being more successful than Celtic.
That means they must win the Betfred Cup and this season's Premiership title race to begin with.
As they say on Merseyside, "No pressure then, Stevie lad.