Craig Whyte - Into the Bear Pit: The Explosive Autobiography

IBROX, GLASGOW, 7 MAY, 2011

It was no use. We were stuck. There were fans everywhere, blocking the road.

Lets just walk from here, shall we? I said to the others in our taxi.

We stepped out into Edmiston Drive, gesturing to the guys in the taxi behind to do the same. Surrounding us were people clad in blue, white and red. Looming ahead, dominating the skyline to our left, was Ibrox Stadium, home of Rangers FC the club which, as of yesterday afternoon, I owned.

It was my first visit to the ground since completing the takeover from David Murray. And it was match day. There were just three games to the end of the season. It was nip and tuck between Rangers and Celtic, as it always seemed to be, but three wins and the title was ours. Starting today, at home against Hearts in a lunchtime kick-off.

Wed only walked a few paces when people started to recognise me. You could hear a few murmurs. There he is. Thats Craig Whyte. Then it started to build. Some fans started chanting. Many broke into applause. A few shook my hand and wanted their photo taken.

My first taste of what owning Rangers might mean had come just a couple of hours after signing the paperwork in David Murrays office in Edinburgh. My team and I had caught the train to Glasgow. It seemed the obvious way to travel between the cities, but seeing the new owner of Rangers on a busy commuter train was clearly surprising for some. By the time we arrived there were TV cameras waiting. That reception, however, was nothing compared to this.

As we walked towards the ground and the imposing structure of the Archibald Leitch-designed Bill Struth Main Stand property that now belonged to me we had a problem. How did we actually get in?

We asked a police officer. Well get someone to escort you in, came the reply.

The next thing we knew we were flanked by two mounted cops. We were now swept along on a wave of good feeling. The BBC reporter Chris McLaughlin caught up with me as we walked towards the ground. How does it feel, he asked, to be walking inside Ibrox for the first time as owner?

Very exciting, I replied. And it was. I could scarcely believe it was happening. To think a lad from Motherwell, who first went to see Rangers as a boy, could one day return to run the club. My dad, Tom, who in many ways was responsible for sparking my interest in both football and business, was among those accompanying me on this special day.

Asked about my priorities, both immediate and looking ahead, I told the reporter what my hopes were that we would win that day and go on to win the league and that there were exciting times ahead.

As I reached the main entrance at the front of the stand, I turned and gave the assembled fans a wave. In response they gave a huge cheer. The sun was splitting the sky. It was a great day for football. In that moment it was impossible not to feel the overwhelmingly positive mood of the day.

Once I was inside the door, the chief executive, Martin Bain, was there to greet me. Given he had been one of the directors who didnt want my deal to go ahead, his presence here seemed charming. He shook my hand and asked if there was anything he could do for me.

The first thing you can do is get that statement off the clubs website, I told him. Bain was a member of the independent board committee, a group set up apparently to safeguard the interests of the thousands of minority shareholders who made up 15 per cent of the total. No sooner had the ink dried on my deal with Murray than the committee put out a statement on the Rangers website saying they did not support the takeover and they didnt think the money was there to support the cashflow.

To say I was annoyed was an understatement. These guys were working for me now. I was going to have to put out my own statement saying what a load of nonsense it was and that some people had their own agendas hardly the best start to a new regime.

The actions of that committee had been one of the reasons why, as the takeover edged toward completion, I had been considering walking away. I had never known a deal like this one. It was a big distraction. At one stage Id instructed my lawyer, Gary Withey, to tell Murrays team that if it didnt go through quickly I was out.

It had been a lot of hassle, all this bullshit with self-important people thinking they had a say in things. Even at the last minute they had found ways to obstruct proceedings, delaying the original signatures the previous Thursday night. In the end I think it was David Murray who ordered Bain and the finance director, Donald McIntyre, to sign control over to me and my colleague, Phil Betts.

What none of us knew at the time was just how desperate David Murray was to get the deal over the line.

It wasnt the day for any unnecessary unpleasantness, however. Martin Bain left and the statement was taken down immediately. When he returned he joined my guests and I in the directors room for a cup of tea before kick-off. He was pleasant enough. He told me there was a special seat for the owner of the club, and he showed me where it was.

We were civil to each other, but I think we both knew his days were numbered. The same would go for any other dissenters on the independent committee.

The match itself couldnt have gone better. Rangers were up against a depleted Hearts side, once again embroiled in speculation that the clubs eccentric owner, Vladimir Romanov, was interfering in team selection. The Lithuania-based businessman had entered Scottish football with a bang but, despite some success, had made more enemies than friends. I hoped his experience wasnt a cautionary tale for the leagues newest owner. Rangers comfortably won 4-0. The title was within touching distance.

After the match I held a press conference in the Blue Room. I wanted to carry on the positive feeling I had felt from the stands. The last thing I wanted to do was upset the teams title charge, so I talked of funds being available for new players and my belief that we could win the tax case which loomed ominously on the horizon. They werent empty promises. At the time of the takeover I sincerely believed there wasnt a single problem facing the club that was insurmountable.