There are institutions people grow up trusting without ever signing a contract. They trust them because their parents did, because their grandparents did, because tradition told them some things are sacred. Loyalty is built on the quiet promise that while outcomes may hurt, the process will be honest. That belief is fragile, and once cracked, it doesn’t mend easily. It turns cheers into clenched jaws and pride into simmering disbelief.
Generations have poured emotion into something bigger than results. Songs passed down through decades, heroes remembered long after their boots were hung up, nights under the lights that felt like chapters in a family story. Identity is not just worn — it is inherited. And with that inheritance comes an expectation that when battles are fought, they are fought on level ground. Not tilted. Not manipulated by interpretation gymnastics that change depending on the postcode of the stadium.
That expectation took a hammer blow at Tynecastle.
Auston Trusty committed a foul with the ball drifting away from goal and defenders recovering. The referee saw it clearly, made a decision, and produced a yellow card. Ordinary. Understandable. The kind of call seen every weekend without drama.
Then the officials in a booth decided the match needed a starring role for themselves.
VAR stepped in, dragged the referee to the screen, and suddenly the narrative twisted. The yellow was upgraded to a straight red for denial of a goalscoring opportunity. Just like that, context vanished. Defensive cover was ignored. Direction of play became a convenient afterthought. Celtic were forced to slog through the rest of a crucial match a man down, and the points damage followed.
“It’s amazing how an incident can get worse the more angles someone watches in slow motion.”
The explanation leaned on DOGSO criteria as if reading from a script, yet countless former players and analysts pointed out the criteria didn’t line up neatly at all. Still, the appeal went nowhere. Decision locked in. Punishment served. Celtic swallowed the consequences while being told this was the gold standard of officiating logic.
Fast forward less than two weeks and suddenly that “standard” looked suspiciously flexible.
At Ibrox, James Tavernier hauled down a Kilmarnock attacker in a moment that looked painfully familiar. Similar area. Similar defensive picture. Similar risk of a goalscoring opportunity disappearing. One enormous detail hovered over it — Tavernier was already on a yellow.
And yet… nothing.
No dramatic VAR interruption. No slow-motion courtroom drama at the monitor. No upgrade. No second yellow. Rangers stayed at eleven men, and the match rolled on as if the rulebook had quietly misplaced a page.
“Same sport, same rules, same technology — just a different outcome when it’s a different badge.”
The hypocrisy is what infuriates. Supporters were told the Trusty decision was “clear and obvious,” practically unavoidable under the laws of the game. Days later, an almost carbon-copy situation is treated like a minor inconvenience not worth a second glance. That’s not interpretation — that’s a double standard wearing a referee’s whistle.
This is where patience snaps.
Fans can accept a referee missing something in real time. What they cannot accept is a system designed to eliminate major errors suddenly developing selective eyesight. When one club is hammered by forensic analysis and another is waved through with a shrug, belief in fairness doesn’t just wobble — it nosedives.
“Don’t tell us to respect decisions when decisions clearly don’t respect consistency.”
The damage goes beyond one red card or one non-booking. Suspensions alter line-ups. Dropped points shift momentum. Title races are decided by moments, and those moments are now being filtered through a process that feels alarmingly elastic.
Celtic paid in full for an interpretation that was sold as unquestionable. Rangers walked away from a near-identical scenario without even being asked a question. That contrast is not subtle. It screams.
Scottish football prides itself on passion, history, and fierce rivalry. It deserves officiating that matches that intensity with integrity. Instead, supporters are left feeling like they are watching a competition where the measuring tape stretches and shrinks depending on who is being measured.
Right now, anger isn’t coming from paranoia or bitterness. It’s coming from watching the same incident judged two completely different ways — and being told, with a straight face, that this is progress.
