Their traditions and finances were timelessly impregnable. That notion has now been terminated, whatever the outcome of the crisis.
All this has been exacerbated by the ownership of the club having ended up with a character whom Damon Runyon and Raymond Chandler, in consultation with each other, could not have made up. Craig Whyte, admittedly, does seem more Dave the Dude than Philip Marlowe but, judging by the bemused expressions on the faces of the administrators as they tried to fend off questions about where the money has gone, since a baboon could probably do the arithmetic of income and expenditure for a year, this plot could yet be more byzantine than The Big Sleep.
