Had Sir David Murray thought that time would be kind to his Rangers legacy, the initial backlash to his re-emergence this week will surely have disabused him of the notion.
The former Ibrox chairman has been busy promoting his new book, entitled ‘Mettle’, a play on the industry where he made his fortune and the quality he undoubtedly showed in abundance to overcome personal tragedies and live the life that he has.
The one challenge though that it seems impossible for him to overcome is to rebuild his shattered reputation in the eyes of the Rangers support, to the vast majority of whom he will always be the man who sold the club to Craig Whyte. And for a sum 22 times less than the RRP of his book, no less.
The subheading to the book’s title – ‘Tragedy, courage and titles’ – is telling, because that only gives the story up to a point. Anything that came after that is deemed unworthy of inclusion in this short summation of Murray’s life, while anything that came before his fateful exit from Rangers now, sadly for him, seems irrelevant to the Ibrox fanbase.
Lloyds were seemingly turning the screw on the Rangers chairman (though he downplays this) and urging him to offload the club, which owed the bank around £18m. There was the tax liability on top of that stemming from Murray’s ill-judged use of the EBT scheme, which at that time was thought to be as high as £70m, though it was later reduced to around £20m or thereabouts after HMRC admitted to errors in their calculations and a subsequent settlement agreement.
The bottom line is this, though. Without Murray embarking upon the use of EBTs, no matter how much he may still stress the legality of the scheme, HMRC would never have had cause to darken the Ibrox doorstep. Furthermore, Rangers would never have been in a position where they could be sold for a quid to a character such as Whyte.
Most damning of all - and this is the part that doesn’t pass the smell test - is that Murray argues he had no notion of the ruinous path he had set Rangers on when he handed the keys to Whyte.
In his book, he says that he took that decision ‘in good faith’, and that he ‘went on the facts in front of me’.
“A journalist asked me at the time if our due diligence should have been more thorough,” Murray writes.
“It’s easy to look back and say: ‘Yes, of course it should’ but anyone typing Whyte’s name into Google back in 2011 would have found one article from years before. Nothing else.”
The fans are expected to believe that this feted businessman, who had spent years cultivating an image as a meticulous, shrewd, savvy and abundantly connected operator, simply didn’t know who he was dealing with when it came to passing on the club he had spent 23 years leading. That his background checks on the man went as far as a simple Google search.
In short, they don’t.
Instead, the narrative that has gained most traction is that Murray knew exactly where Rangers were heading, and he didn’t want to be the captain at the helm when the ship went down. That Whyte was a convenient fall-guy.
If this is true, and I should stress there is no evidence to prove it, then as an exercise in saving face and safeguarding his legacy, it was entirely redundant. Instead of protecting his name, he has instead been christened with a new soubriquet – Sir ‘Duped’. The inverted commas are, of course, always included to denote sarcasm.
Whether he did know who he was dealing with in Whyte or not, neither position reflects well on him. If he didn’t, he should have. Many Rangers supporters will never forgive him either way.
In some ways, it is a great pity that it has all ended like this for Murray. The good times he brought to Ibrox were among some of the most memorable ever seen at the club. He broke down barriers, signing Mo Johnston. He was at the helm as the team brought home nine-in-a-row.
Away from football, his fortitude is commendable and impossible not to admire. The proceeds of his book, incidentally, will go to Erskine, the veteran’s charity.
Ultimately though, the hubris that spawned his famous quote of spending a tenner for every fiver that Celtic put on the table was the same that led to his – and ultimately, to Rangers’ – downfall.
Not only do the supporters place the blame for what happened back in 2012 firmly at Sir David’s door, but for the sorry state they have found themselves in for most of the time since. For the single league title in the 14 years since he left the club. For Celtic’s subsequent domestic domination.
And now, just as an exciting new era is dawning at Rangers at long, long last, even the timing of his re-emergence to shift the narrative away from the positive changes taking place at Ibrox this summer has hardly helped to restore his battered image.
After 14 years, it appears nothing, not even the passage of time, will.
