Let me tell you something that’s been gnawing at me since I watched that closed-door friendly in Spain. Rangers’ latest pre-season clash against Johor Darul Ta’zim wasn’t just another warm-up—it felt like a microcosm of modern football’s absurdity. Here’s a team from Malaysia, playing in a stifling heatwave, and yet they managed to test Rangers’ resolve in ways that left me questioning everything I thought I knew about pre-season preparation. What does it even mean to ‘train’ when your opponent is a side from the Malaysian Super League? And why would a club like Rangers, with all their resources, choose to play such a match? It’s not just about fitness. It’s about identity, isn’t it?
I’ve always found the idea of closed-door friendlies to be... well, a bit of a farce. You’re paying top dollar for tickets, but the actual game is locked behind a curtain. It’s like going to a concert and finding out the band never showed up. Yet, here we are. Rangers fans are being asked to invest emotionally in a match that’s essentially a private event. And honestly, I can’t help but think this is a symptom of something bigger: the growing disconnect between clubs and their supporters. When you pay for a ticket, you expect to see a game. But what happens when the game becomes a performance for sponsors, not fans? That’s the real story here.
Now, let’s talk about the match itself. Tochi Chukwuani scoring twice in the second half? That’s impressive, sure. But what’s more telling is how quickly Rangers were caught off guard by JDT’s early goals. Within three minutes of the second half, the Malaysian side had doubled their lead. That’s not just a tactical failure—it’s a psychological one. How do you prepare for a team you’ve never faced before, in a climate you’ve never trained in? It’s like expecting a chef to cook a five-star meal without ever tasting the ingredients. And yet, here we are, watching McInnes’ men adapt on the fly. It’s a testament to their resilience, but it also raises a question: Are we too focused on results and not enough on the process? Because when you’re playing against a team that’s not even in the same league, what exactly are you proving?
The fact that JDT hit the post in their best chance is almost poetic. They came close, but ultimately, they fell short. But what does that say about them? Are they a team that’s still finding its footing, or are they just a step behind in terms of quality? I’m not sure. What I do know is that this match was a reminder of how much football has become a global spectacle. A Scottish club playing a Malaysian side in Spain—how did we get here? It’s a sign of the times, but it also feels like a hollow gesture. Where’s the local rivalry? The community connection? It’s all been replaced by a corporate-driven model that prioritizes exposure over engagement.
And then there’s the matter of the upcoming match against AS Saint-Étienne. If Rangers are going to face a team from France, why not do it in a setting that actually matters? Why not play in a stadium that’s packed with fans, not just a closed-door event? It’s like trying to train for a marathon in a pool. You can’t replicate the real thing, no matter how hard you try. So what’s the point? I’m not saying these matches are useless, but I am saying they’re not the same as playing in a competitive environment. They’re more like stress tests for the ego than anything else.
Let’s not forget the promotional stuff either. MyGers memberships and stadium tours are great, but they feel like distractions. When you’re trying to build a connection with your fans, do you really want to sell them behind-the-scenes access while they’re watching a closed-door game? It’s like offering a VIP experience for a show that’s not even open to the public. It’s confusing, to say the least. And yet, that’s exactly what’s happening. Clubs are treating fans like customers rather than partners. It’s a shift that’s been coming for years, but it’s only now becoming fully apparent.
In the end, I think this whole ordeal says more about the state of football than it does about Rangers or JDT. We’re living in a world where the lines between entertainment, commerce, and sport have blurred beyond recognition. Closed-door matches, global friendlies, and corporate sponsorships—these are the new normal. But at what cost? As a fan, I want to see the real game, not a carefully curated version of it. I want to feel the energy of a crowd, not just the silence of an empty stadium. Until clubs start prioritizing that, I’ll keep wondering if we’re all just spectators in a theater that’s never truly open.
