Forget the Trump comparisons. King’s Ibrox “prescription” could have come straight from The Simpsons.

Yesterday, I discussed the blatant misapplication of the term “investment” regarding the club across the city.

Now, I want to shift focus to Dave King and his supposed promises.

It may seem futile with the Ibrox board currently shutting him out, but he’s far from finished.

This saga is far from over, and King isn’t backing down. While he hasn’t provided any concrete plans, he has managed to rally some fans against the board that’s blocking his return and his so-called “investments.”

If you dig deeper into what he’s saying, it’s mostly empty rhetoric. There’s no real strategy—just vague mentions of developing one.

Take last week’s presidential debate, for instance. Kamala Harris decisively defeated Donald Trump, primarily because he was woefully unprepared. Among the many absurd statements he made, one response will undoubtedly be replayed by the Democrats.

When asked about his promise to repeal Obamacare—a pledge he had four years to fulfill and three additional years to solidify—he was caught off guard. So, if he really plans to repeal it, what’s his replacement? The question was posed, and his answer was astonishingly clueless. After seven years, he could only say he had “the concept of a plan.”

The concept of a plan? That’s a misuse of language that would make Keith Jackson proud.

Listening to King’s bluster the other day, all he really provided was the concept of a plan.

He threw around vague references to American and Saudi Arabian investment, which, as I mentioned earlier, are unlikely to materialize. He mentioned a two-year plan to save the club but didn’t present any details for scrutiny. If you pressed him for specifics, I can predict his response would echo his TalkSport appearance this morning: “I don’t know what’s going on inside the club, so I can’t tell you how big the job would be, and a detailed prescription isn’t possible at this time.”

In essence, he’s making promises he doesn’t even know how to fulfill.

I previously referenced a couple of similar empty promises. I won’t dwell on Trump, Craig Whyte, Charles Green, or any of the other blustering figures. Nor will I bring up David Murray, the ultimate showman who excelled at spending other people’s money without a backup plan when the funds ran dry.

Instead, I’ll highlight two classic episodes of The Simpsons that perfectly illustrate the situation we’re witnessing.

Let’s kick things off with the 22nd episode of season nine: “Trash of the Titans.” This episode perfectly captures themes of bombast and con artists like King, and how easily people get deceived.

It starts with a corporation lamenting their declining profits and brainstorming ways to boost revenue. They concoct a ludicrous scheme called Love Day, flooding the market with cheesy trinkets and pointless merchandise. The Simpson family, naturally, buys into the hype, only to find themselves tossing that junk in the trash days later. That’s when the real narrative unfolds.

Let’s take a moment to reflect on Love Day—a corporate invention aimed at generating sales through a fake holiday. This mirrors exactly what the Ibrox club does regularly. Whether it’s Armed Forces Day or various Britishness celebrations, they market a load of merchandise and cash in while their fans eagerly indulge. Don’t be surprised if a “Dave King Day” emerges to celebrate his first so-called revolution and fund the next one.

(They could also go for the more fitting option: Hate Day. That would suit them just fine.)

Am I joking? I’m only half-joking. When I revisited the Gary Keown piece recently, I was struck by how much they’ve drained from their fans over the years with schemes like this. So honestly, nothing should be ruled out.

In the episode, Homer gets into a spat with the trash collectors, who refuse to pick up his garbage. Stubbornly, he refuses to apologize, and soon, trash begins to pile up outside their home. His wife, Marge, eventually forges his signature on an apology letter, leading to the restoration of their garbage collection service.

When Homer discovers what she’s done, he’s furious and decides to run for Springfield Sanitation Commissioner. While brainstorming campaign slogans one night at Moe’s, he drunkenly stumbles upon the phrase “Can’t someone else do it?” So, he campaigns on the promise that not only will the garbage men collect the trash, but they’ll also clean up after themselves and take on additional chores.

In a chaotic debate, Homer, clueless about the issues, resorts to mocking and belittling his opponent in a Trump-like fashion, ultimately winning in a landslide. However, his lack of a concrete plan and overpromising leads to chaos and bankruptcy for the town in a matter of weeks.

This episode perfectly illustrates how unscrupulous individuals can make grandiose promises without considering the consequences, leaving naive supporters to deal with the fallout from their unrealistic expectations.

King is employing all these tactics. He asserts he can complete a rebuilding project in two years, which is impossible without significant funding. He claims he can secure that funding through Saudi and American investments—a notion we’ve already established as ridiculous. He also insists that no one is currently managing the club, that the executives aren’t showing up daily, and that everything is just aimlessly drifting—an utterly absurd claim.

I won’t claim the club is well-run, because it clearly isn’t. However, clubs can still function without a chairman or a chief executive if needed. There are always individuals managing various tasks. John Gilligan has stepped up as the temporary chairman, so he is effectively running things. Yes, some key positions may be vacant, but the same applies to Celtic Park, and we’re operating like a Swiss watch right now, despite the transfer window chaos.

Homer was more than willing to defame his opponents with lies and smear tactics, making promises he knew he couldn’t fulfill. King is doing the same—squandering money he doesn’t have, making empty promises to the manager, and assuring fans that significant investment is on the way. He’s also throwing the very directors he needs for support under the bus if he ever hopes to execute this reckless plan.

The worst thing that could happen to that club is for anyone to take King seriously.

And the worst thing for King would be for someone to say, “Alright, go ahead, come back and run it for a while.”

One reason I and others have hoped for King’s return is that he is a walking disaster—an embarrassment. If he were allowed back into Scottish football after being blacklisted by the City of London Takeover Panel, it would be a humiliation for the SFA. It would also be a setback for the club, which would be regressing instead of progressing. Their solution would be to spend more money, going into debt again and reverting to the same failed strategy.

If “Trash of the Titans” illustrates what occurs when someone with an inflated ego and no strategic ability gains power through empty promises and blatant lies, then another Simpsons episode, “Marge vs. the Monorail,” shows how such scenarios arise in the first place. It’s one of the greatest episodes in television history.

In this episode, Springfield receives a $3 million government grant due to a fine imposed on Mr. Burns for regulatory violations at his nuclear power plant. During a town meeting to decide how to use the funds, Marge Simpson initially wins the argument, advocating for the repair of the crumbling Main Street.

However, her plan is derailed when a slick con artist named Lyle Lanley proposes constructing a monorail. He paints a grand vision for the future, convincing the town to allocate all the money to his impractical scheme. Marge later investigates and uncovers Lanley’s scam, discovering that he has tricked other towns into investing in his monorail, leading to disastrous consequences.

It wouldn’t be surprising if King garnered overwhelming support for his “non-plan” from fans now faced with two choices: responsibly and sustainably manage their club or embark on one last desperate gamble with a madman’s undeliverable vision.

Just like fixing potholes, running a sustainable football club isn’t glamorous. It doesn’t make headlines or promise shiny new toys to be excited about. It’s a slow, steady process that requires sacrificing many short-term pleasures for long-term success.

The fans over there can’t resist the allure of shiny promises. They yearn for something to hope for, something to dream about, no matter how unrealistic it may be. They want to believe in Sugar Daddy owners and saviors with deep pockets, ignoring the risks that come with such far-fetched schemes.

King knows this. He understands that if he promises to spend big, many will rally behind him, regardless of whether he follows through. If he claims to offer stability and leadership, he’ll gain their support—even though he’s never provided stability in any of his ventures, and his brand of leadership often involves steamrolling over others without considering the fallout. And there are always consequences, which is why he frequently finds himself in court.

Lyle Lanley didn’t propose a monorail for Springfield’s benefit; he aimed to pocket most of that $3 million. Whatever King’s intentions are, they certainly don’t prioritize the well-being of Ibrox fans, as he’s merely peddling them a fantasy. He must realize it’s a fantasy.

I listened closely to his remarks and reviewed his media statements from earlier this week. Almost everything he claims is nonsense, contradicted by the facts. He asserts that he took charge when the club was in crisis and helped them recover. Did he really? King was long gone by the time Gerrard secured the COVID title, so what was his actual record during his time on the Ibrox board?

Those were the years when Celtic won four consecutive trebles.

That’s King’s legacy: a club drowning in record levels of debt, surviving through debt-for-equity schemes. Now he’s talking about attracting American and Saudi investors, claiming they’ll come in at the investor level to buy shares and fund a rebuild. It’s the same approach that helped Celtic secure 12 trophies out of 12.

“(Sevco) is a far more attractive opportunity than, say, Sunderland or Brighton,” he asserted regarding potential investments. Just a glance at that statement reveals how disconnected he is from reality.

The potential for turning an investment into serious returns is far greater at clubs like Sunderland or Brighton than it is for a Scottish team. I doubt we could even attract the kind of investors he’s envisioning, considering the league we compete in. It’s certainly much easier to secure that kind of funding in England’s top two divisions.

So, his entire plan is flawed. Just as Homer’s sanitation commissioner scheme started with garbage and devolved into pure nonsense, King doesn’t even understand the basics. He’s missed the fundamentals entirely, and the next part of his statement underscores this disconnect.

“We’re going to be in Europe, and with the right amount of money, we should be able to march on and actually dominate in Scotland,” he claimed.

That claim is absurd. Sure, with enough money, they could make a push. But what he’s proposing is to spend far beyond the club’s means, inflating the wage bill to unsustainable levels once again.

That’s precisely why they’re in this predicament in the first place—12 years of overspending—and he wants to keep the cycle going. He’s asking people to invest their own money to support this folly while ignoring the fact that we’re the club with a surplus, capable of executing any plan he devises, making it irrelevant. He also disregards UEFA regulations, believing he can simply bypass them.

“My thoughts have always been not to return as chairman because I felt I’d done my crisis. Quite frankly, I didn’t expect a crisis to happen again in my lifetime,” he said. That statement is laughable. He’s dealt with a crisis and didn’t anticipate another?

Anyone looking at this situation clearly recognizes that the current crisis is a result of King’s tenure. Instead of resolving issues, he created them.

Celtic’s remarkable success occurred under King’s watch. He set the stage for the problems, and the club is now reaping the fallout—not green shoots of recovery, but choking weeds that threaten its existence. His solution? To repeat the same mistakes.

It’s like going to the doctor for a minor issue, feeling worse, and discovering that the treatment made you sick, only to go back for a repeat prescription!

I’ve read King’s statements, and it seems even he isn’t serious about this. He’s already mentioned he won’t use his own money and acknowledged investor fatigue within the current board, so funding won’t come from them. Everything he proposes relies on outside investors, yet he never identifies who they are or what they’ll expect in return. This will likely affect the shareholdings of everyone at the club, including Club 1872, the supporters group whose shares have already been drained to finance King’s previous failures.

I suspect this is merely a ploy to undermine the Parks and sway public opinion against them. Honestly, I don’t see this as a serious proposition. But if it is, I hope he manages to regain control, because we need a figure like King in that club. It would keep them in a constant state of crisis, and the entertainment value would be worth it.

I anticipate the inevitable conflicts over kit deals, sponsorships, the SFA, the SPFL, and with UEFA regarding FFP violations. Who knows what other chaos he’ll introduce to a club already steeped in it?

Let me reiterate: for the first time in ages, that club is trying to operate responsibly.

What King proposes isn’t a remedy; it’s a poison pill. It’s clear to us, but if you look at the media response and the fan forums, you’ll see supporters eagerly accepting his words.

The cure is worse than the disease. The current board is merely trying to steer a ship that’s been off course for 12 years, aiming for a steady and sustainable path.

King wants to revert to a time when he imagines his club ruled the scene, except it never did. The last time he was chairman, Celtic dominated everything, just as we are now. So even his vision of returning to a glorious past is built on a falsehood.

Either he believes his own delusions, like Donald Trump or Homer Simpson, or he’s simply deceiving people, like Lyle Lanley, for his own gain.

Either way, I hope he succeeds—and so should everyone else.

He guarantees at least two years of entertainment—two years filled with banter and hilarity, possibly much longer, since the damage he could inflict this time may surpass his previous efforts. It’ll be amusing to watch him navigate the minefield he’s creating.

Source: https://thecelticblog.com/2024/09/articles-and-features/forget-trumpian-kings-ibrox-prescription-is-right-out-of-the-simpsons/