BEING absorbed by an Old Firm game always carries risk of bringing out a person's inner nutcase.

Taking temporary leave of their senses seems to be an occupational hazard for the participants – managers, players, supporters – in a way which seems to be as pervasive now as it was back in the days when Englishmen and Italians such as Graham Roberts and Paolo di Canio turned up on derby day and lost the plot. Rangers-Celtic is a peculiarly Scottish phenomenon which can contaminate people of any nationality when they are exposed to it.

In 1999, the last time one of the clubs could win the league in the other's ground, a Frenchman, a Norwegian and an Englishman were sent off. When the circumstances were repeated yesterday a South Korean, a Kenyan and an American saw red, while a Northern Irishman was told his behaviour wasn't good enough for him to continue watching from the side of the pitch. Judging by Neil Lennon's simmering demeanour in his post-match press conference, he was absolutely horrified by Calum Murray's decision to punish him for criticisms he made without – he says – swearing, pointing his finger or raising his voice. Lennon certainly made it sound like he had been treated harshly.

Perhaps another side to the story will emerge and it will seem that he did not quite live up to his pre-match recognition that the game's principal characters had to behave responsibly. Whatever he did or was accused of, though, it was up the tunnel at half-time and out of sight, so no-one could have been incited by it. Incidentally, if Lennon really was advised that his safety could not be guaranteed if he sat in the main stand, Rangers should be embarrassed by that and carry out a review of arrangements in its directors' box. Something is wrong if the manager of Celtic can't be given one of the posh seats at Ibrox.

It wasn't an ugly or vicious game and nor was the atmosphere poisonous by Old Firm standards. At the stadium there were seven arrests under the new law to crack down on offensive and sectarian behaviour. After an hour a line about "Fenian b*******" was loudly sung, but if there was anything else unsavoury from the stands it was drowned out. It can seem like something out of a North Korean crowd control manual when all the people wave their little red-white-and-blue/green-and-white flags like they're expected to, but it undoubtedly makes for a stunning assault on the senses. One or two English media big-hitters were in town, doubtless having convinced their papers Rangers were about to go bust and this would be their last derby. No doubt they were scratching their heads last night about the unfathomable, stage-managed pantomime of a modern Old Firm game.

The prevailing impression was of a game where 50,000 people put in an enormous effort to make it clear that they were enjoying themselves, and were not at all unhappy about anything. Rangers flatly refused to look downtrodden or broken by the grave financial state the club is in and an intoxicating derby allowed them to steal the immediate partying rights from Celtic. The Broomloan Road end was packed with people who had turned up to acclaim the coronation of new champions, and the Celtic support was just as stubbornly celebratory as the Rangers' lot. They amused themselves by dancing around wildly when Rangers went 2-0 up, just to show how unbothered they were. There was a little less enthusiasm for that when some tried it again as the score jumped to 3-0, it has to be said, but whenever they seemed subdued they'd come back to life, cheering themselves up with some song or other about Rangers' imminent extinction.

It was fascinating. Everyone knows Celtic will be champions soon enough, but here were two sets of obsessed fans committed to being incredibly happy when the other side demanded that they be miserable. On derby day, they were all being true to their inner nutcase.

And Another Thing

There were forced smiles all around when Lord Hodge gave his verdict – well, non verdict – on whether Rangers need to remain shackled to the Ticketus season-tickets deal. Ticketus themselves, Duff & Phelps, Paul Murray and the Blue Knights, Brian Kennedy: everyone interpreted it in broadly favourable terms and said they would soldier on.

That was putting a brave face on things. There can't be a single party which doesn't deeply regret this horrible marriage for Rangers, with the possible exception of Craig Whyte given that there's no evidence he could have afforded a buy-out without it. Sir David Murray, Donald Muir, Alastair Johnston and Paul Murray – in fact every member of the former board – appear to have been unaware that Whyte was using future season-ticket money to buy Rangers.

Given that each has a significant business background it would be hard to imagine any one of them would not have foreseen the disastrous consequences of attempting to fund the purchase this way. Eyebrows were also raised when it emerged that David Grier, who advised Whyte during the purchase of the club, works for the company later appointed as Rangers' administrators. But given that none of the former board knew him prior to the takeover, and considering Duff & Phelps' subsequent criticism of the Ticketus deal, conspiracy theories must be trumped by the fact that ultimately one man is responsible for the consequences of mortgaging off future season ticket sales: Whyte.

It's a deal that casts a pall over the attempts to find a new buyer. Rangers are crippled while the "big tax case" remains unresolved, but the Ticketus deal stands with it as another element of the financial suicide note written at Ibrox.