There’s no other football match in Britain quite like the Old Firm. Celtic versus Rangers isn’t just about the league table or bragging rights. It’s about history, identity, religion, politics. It’s tribal in a way that makes most other derbies look quaint by comparison. And that intensity is both the best and worst thing about Scottish football.
I’ve been to Old Firm games, and the atmosphere is unlike anything else. The noise, the colour, the sheer passion pouring down from the stands: it’s extraordinary. But there’s also an edge to it, a tension that feels like it could spill over at any moment. You’re acutely aware that this is more than just football. People care about this in a way that goes beyond sport, and that makes it thrilling and deeply uncomfortable at the same time.
Beyond Football
The Old Firm is rooted in divisions that have nothing to do with what happens on the pitch. Celtic and Rangers represent different communities, different histories, different identities. For some fans, supporting your team is part of who you are, woven into your family history and your sense of belonging. That’s powerful, but it’s also dangerous when it tips into sectarianism and hatred.
And let’s be honest, it does tip over. Not always, not for most fans, but often enough that it’s a problem. The songs, the abuse, the violence: it’s all still there, simmering beneath the surface. Scottish football has made progress, but the Old Firm still carries baggage that other derbies don’t have to deal with.
Why It Still Matters
Despite all that, I can’t deny the pull of the Old Firm. When Celtic and Rangers play, the whole of Scotland stops to watch. You’re aware that something significant is happening. It matters in a way that transcends football, for better or worse.
The quality of football isn’t always world-class. Both clubs have had their struggles in Europe, and the Scottish Premiership doesn’t compare to the English Premier League in terms of depth or quality. But the Old Firm doesn’t need to be the best football to be compelling. It’s about emotion, intensity, the weight of history. That’s what makes it special, even when it’s ugly.
Can It Change?
I’d like to think the Old Firm can evolve, that the sectarianism can be left behind and we can focus on the football. Some progress has been made. The worst of the violence has been reduced, and both clubs talk about inclusivity and respect. But the underlying divisions are still there, and I’m not convinced they’re going away anytime soon.
Maybe that’s just the nature of the beast. Maybe a derby this intense will always carry those tensions. But I do think Scottish football would be healthier if the Old Firm mattered a little less, if there were other stories and other clubs that got the same attention. As it stands, the rest of the league exists in the shadow of these two giants, and that’s not good for anyone.
The Old Firm is a derby that means too much. It’s brilliant and toxic in equal measure, and I’m not sure we’ll ever quite figure out how to balance the two.
