Jason the Joker may be a real ace in the Ibrox pack
WHEN Darren Fletcher won his 75th cap for Scotland, Gordon Strachan offered a withering appraisal of the modern footballer.
‘Darren Fletcher? There is not a tattoo on his body, he doesn’t walk about with big headphones on, he hasn’t got a cockatoo hairstyle and he doesn’t wear outrageous shoes. He just wants to play football.’
Tattoos, big headphones, larger than life trainers. A bit of gel in the hair and he could have been talking about Jason Cummings.
The Rangers new boy has a joker tattoo on the back of his hand. And an arm festooned with ink.
He’s gallus. He’s an extrovert. If he was Nandos, he’d eat himself.
Described by Terry Butcher as as a mixture of a genius and a clown, Cummings is the guy who thinks nothing of stripping down to his underpants, calling himself Cumdog and slamdunking professional wrestlers.
‘Because he’s not the brightest, he amuses everyone,’ says Kris Commons of his old Hibs teammate. ‘Jason is a character who does things without thinking but that’s probably the best thing about him.’ In some industries, thoughtlessness would be grounds for a sacking. In a Rangers centre-forward, it’s no bad thing.
History is littered with the skeletons of footballing emperors who perished in a Glasgow Colosseum.
Talented players who walked through the front door at Ibrox or Parkhead and visibly shrunk.
It’s five years since Leigh Griffiths joined Celtic.
Before spending £1million, Neil Lennon sought the opinion of his old pal Jim Melrose.
Melrose knew what it took to succeed as a Celtic striker for one simple reason. Asked to fill the boots of the newly departed Charlie Nicholas, he couldn’t do it.
Speak to Jim now and he’s blunt. Celtic was too big for him. During a game at Tannadice he became the target of his own fans and responded with a one-arm salute. Game over.
He can laugh about it now. The intensity of the Celtic experience didn’t seem so funny at the time.
For any player to survive the Glasgow bearpit, he needs very particular qualities. A hide of leather. Unshakeable self-belief. The capacity to get through life without giving a toss what people think. Melrose was right about Griffiths. The Scotland striker has what it takes to play for Celtic because he has no fear of making mistakes. Off the pitch, he’s made plenty. Fathering five children by three different mothers made him front-page cannon fodder. Singing dodgy ditties about Rudi Skacel brought the attention of the Procurator Fiscal. When a man is daft enough to do that stuff he might also be daft enough to think playing for Celtic is a piece of cake. Call it stupidity or mental strength. Whatever your poison, Griffiths has qualities invaluable in a Celtic striker. And Cummings could do for Rangers what Griffiths does for Celtic. Will he score as many goals? Let’s hang fire on that. At 22, he’s still young; he has a few rough edges. But to brand him a Nottingham Forest flop is over the top.
Not many players go straight from the Scottish Championship to the English equivalent and strike gold. Not with Mark Warburton as their boss. When Cummings played centre-forward he did fine. When Warburton stuck him out right in a 4-2-3-1 he became the new Martyn Waghorn.
His last season with Hibs brought 23 goals in 39 games in the SPFL Championship.
The Premiership is a step up. His personality guarantees an instant cult status with Rangers supporters. And immediate abuse from opposition fans. His first game back at Easter Road should be a corker.
But this is a guy who once claimed he could open a tin of beans with his left foot. A footballer who claimed to have the touch of an angel. The suspicion is you couldn’t mark the kid with a blowtorch. When he walks out at Ibrox he’ll regard it as his stage.
Will he give a monkey’s when the abuse rains down? Not in the slightest.
And on any list of attributes for a Rangers centre-forward, its hard to think of a better one.