Namaste FC: Russell Martin's Vegan Revolution at Rangers
I've been given exclusive access to go behind the scenes to witness Russell Martin's revolution at Rangers Football Club. A Parody.
The wind around Ibrox, thick with the scent of stale pish and frayed nerves, whipped around Russell Martin's impeccably tailored hemp suit as he stepped out of the solar-powered taxi. This was it: Ibrox. His first day as Rangers manager. Trailing behind him, with a slightly bemused expression and a handbag that seemed to contain its own ecosystem, was his girlfriend, Lucy Pinder.
He surveyed the granite façade, a slight frown creasing his brow. "Hmm," he murmured to his new assistant, a bewildered Matt Gill, "a distinct lack of biodiversity. We'll need to look into a vertical garden for the main stand. And perhaps add to that rather… utilitarian looking entrance….. a communal composting bin." Lucy, meanwhile, was discreetly adjusting her sunglasses, possibly wondering if her agent had informed her of the composting clause in the relationship.
The Press Conference
Inside, the press conference room reeked of stale Bovril and desperation. Martin glided to the podium, placing a small, potted peace lily beside the microphone. Lucy, perched elegantly in the front row, offered a dazzling smile to the assembled hacks. "Good morning, everyone," Martin began, his voice a calming balm, "or perhaps, as the Buddha teaches, 'Every morning is a fresh opportunity to practice mindfulness.'"
A journalist, clearly expecting fire and brimstone, choked on his instant coffee. "Mr. Martin, what's your philosophy for winning the league?"
Martin smiled serenely. "Our primary goal is to cultivate a compassionate and interconnected squad. Results, in the grand cosmic scheme, are but fleeting manifestations. However, we will also strive for three points, in a non-violent, ethically sourced manner." He paused. "And perhaps we could explore replacing the 'Follow Follow' anthem with something more, shall we say, harmonically resonant with the Earth's natural vibrations?" Lucy subtly caught the eye of a photographer, silently communicating, "Get this for the Daily Mail."
Another reporter piped up, "And Ms. Pinder, are you enjoying Glasgow so far?" Lucy winked. "It's…different! Definitely more staunch than I'm used to. But Russell assures me they have excellent recycling facilities." A few of the older journalists exchanged knowing glances, remembering the days when Lucy's pictures might have graced certain wall calendars, strategically placed to avoid the gaze of wives.
On the Training Ground
Later, on the training pitch, the players, still reeling from the vegan buffet (quinoa and kale smoothies), watched as Martin led them in a guided meditation session. Lucy, ever the professional, was doing a quick photoshoot for an organic juice brand by the corner flag, effortlessly striking poses that seemed physically impossible for anyone not trained in contortion or magazine spreads.
"Feel the breath," Martin instructed, his voice echoing across the hallowed turf, "the life force flowing through your hamstrings. Let go of attachment to the outcome. Embrace the present moment, even if that moment involves a misplaced pass from Tavernier."
John Souttar, usually a picture of stoicism, looked utterly perplexed. "Gaffer," he ventured, "are we still allowed to, like, tackle?"
Martin chuckled. "Of course, John. But let us consider the intention behind the tackle. Is it born of aggression, or is it a mindful assertion of space, a gentle redirection of energy?" Lucy, having finished her shoot, sauntered over. "Darling, these lads look a bit… tense. Have you tried aromatherapy with them? I've got some lovely lavender oil in the car."
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the pitch, Martin called the team together. "Tomorrow," he announced, "we begin our 'Waste Not, Want Not' initiative. All uneaten pie crusts will be composted for our new Ibrox herb garden. And before training, we'll have our first 'Gratitude Circle' where each of you will share something you're thankful for. Unless, of course, you'd prefer a 5 am sunrise yoga session on the roof."
The silence was deafening. The prospect of 5 am yoga clearly outweighed the embarrassment of public gratitude. Even Matt Gill, who'd spent most of the day looking like he'd swallowed a wasp, managed a faint, despairing groan. Lucy, meanwhile, just blew a kiss to the team, grabbed her designer handbag, and headed for the warmth of the changing rooms, leaving the bewildered Rangers squad to contemplate their newfound vegan, Buddhist, eco-friendly future.
Russell Martin simply beamed. His first day. A resounding success. The revolution, he felt, had truly begun. And Lucy already had enough material for her next column.
Next week: Pre-season training begins. How to grow Organic Sprouts and a Zen-Inspired Defence!