Those nine simple, pointed words reportedly scribbled on a note by Barry Ferguson and left in the Rangers dressing room caused more shockwaves inside Ibrox than many fans initially realised. The timing? Just as Rangers were finalising what sources described as a “concrete agreement” with Russell Martin to take over as the new manager.
Ferguson, a former club captain and lifelong Ranger, had been a prominent figure in the background during a difficult period at the club. His note, while short, carried the weight of years of history, responsibility, and the pain of watching a club he loved — and once led — in what he clearly believed was the wrong direction.
This is the story behind the note, what led to it, and why it symbolised a deeper fracture within Rangers Football Club during a pivotal transitional moment.
The State of Rangers: Uncertainty and Division
To understand the significance of Ferguson’s act, one must look at the club’s condition leading up to it. Rangers had endured another season of underachievement. Despite flashes of potential and a talented, if inconsistent, squad, the club had failed to make a serious challenge to Celtic’s dominance and had stumbled in Europe.
Behind the scenes, the Ibrox boardroom had become a revolving door of opinions and strategies. Rumours of a managerial change began swirling months before Russell Martin’s name even surfaced, and the uncertainty began to affect the dressing room atmosphere.
Barry Ferguson, who had been involved informally at various points as an advisor or motivator, remained deeply respected by many within the club, especially among the older guard. He had publicly advocated for a return to “Rangers standards” — a term he used frequently in media interviews and private conversations, referencing grit, discipline, and pride in the badge.
The Rise of Russell Martin
Russell Martin, a former Scotland international and manager of Swansea City and Southampton, had quietly emerged as a leading candidate to take over the Rangers hot seat. Known for his philosophy of possession-based football and modern coaching style, Martin had earned praise for his progressive methods.
The Rangers board — under pressure to modernise and bring a fresh identity — saw Martin as a forward-thinking candidate capable of leading the club into a new era. Talks progressed quickly, and it wasn’t long before a “concrete agreement” had reportedly been reached behind closed doors.
But this decision was not universally welcomed within Ibrox. While the board were sold on Martin’s tactical acumen, Ferguson and others aligned with the club’s traditional values viewed the move with suspicion.
The Breaking Point: Ferguson’s Disillusionment
When Ferguson caught wind of the deal with Martin being all but finalised, his frustration reportedly turned to outright disillusionment. Sources close to the former midfielder suggest he felt the decision-makers had once again turned their back on the club’s soul — ignoring men who truly understood what it meant to play for and lead Rangers.
Though never officially in contention for the managerial role, Ferguson had been championed by certain influential voices as a stabilising presence — perhaps not as a full-time manager, but as part of the coaching structure. That possibility evaporated once the Martin agreement was sealed.
In what can only be described as a deeply personal gesture, Ferguson reportedly walked into the Rangers dressing room shortly after learning of the decision and left a handwritten note on the whiteboard. It read:
“Some of you have forgotten what it means here.”
Nine words. One message. A call-out. A warning. A lament.
The note was found by players arriving for training the next day, and within hours, whispers had made their way to the press. Ferguson had neither confirmed nor denied the note’s existence when asked by reporters, simply offering: “If the players don’t understand the standards, someone has to remind them.”
The Dressing Room Reaction
The note sparked a divide among the squad.
Veterans who had been around during Ferguson’s playing days understood the message instantly. They knew what he meant — the fire in the belly, the refusal to lose, the unspoken responsibility that came with wearing the shirt. For them, it was a wake-up call.
But younger players, particularly those who had only recently arrived from abroad or had not grown up immersed in Rangers’ culture, reportedly viewed the gesture as unnecessary — even disrespectful. Some felt Ferguson was undermining the club’s transition and stoking tensions in an already fragile environment.
One insider said, “It felt like he was taking a parting shot, not just at the players, but at the people trying to move the club forward.”
Russell Martin’s Response
When Martin was officially announced as the new manager days later, he was immediately asked about Ferguson’s note in his introductory press conference. Calmly, and perhaps wisely, Martin chose diplomacy.
“I have great respect for Barry Ferguson and everything he’s done for this football club. Everyone has their views about what Rangers should be, and that passion is what makes this club so special. My job is to build a team that reflects that passion while moving the club forward.”
Privately, Martin was said to be unfazed. He had been around long enough to know that Rangers — like any top club — comes with politics, legends, and expectations that don’t always align with modern methods. Still, it was a difficult backdrop for a new manager trying to assert his authority.
The Fans’ Verdict
Among supporters, Ferguson’s note quickly went viral. Fan forums lit up with debate. Was Barry right to do it? Was it an unnecessary drama? Or was it exactly the kind of gut-check the club needed?
Many longtime fans rallied behind Ferguson, citing a perceived drop in standards and fight among recent squads. “He said what a lot of us were thinking,” one fan wrote on social media. “Too many passengers in that dressing room.”
Others, however, felt the note symbolised resistance to change and a nostalgia that was holding the club back. “We can’t keep living in 2008,” wrote another. “We need progress. Russell Martin is the future, not the past.”
The Legacy of the Note
The nine-word note has now entered Rangers folklore — the latest entry in a long list of dramatic moments in the club’s rich history. But it also marked a symbolic passing of the torch. Barry Ferguson represented the old guard, the blood-and-thunder leadership model of years gone by. Russell Martin, with his laptop tactics and modern ethos, represents the future.
Whether Martin succeeds or not, Ferguson’s message will linger. Not because of its brevity, but because of what it said about the soul of the club. Rangers are not just a football team. They are a culture, a responsibility, a pressure cooker of expectations — and Ferguson’s note reminded everyone of that.
It may have been bitter. It may have been disruptive. But it was, undeniably, Rangers.
Final Thoughts
Ferguson’s note wasn’t about ego. It wasn’t about trying to hijack a managerial appointment. It was about passion — raw, unfiltered, and probably ill-timed. But it was authentic. And in the high-stakes, high-emotion world of Rangers Football Club, authenticity often counts more than diplomacy.
As the Martin era begins, the ghost of those nine words will remain in the background, perhaps not looming — but whispering. Constantly reminding players, coaches, and executives:
“Some of you have forgotten what it means here.”
A message worth remembering.
