Rangers Manager Russell Martin Sparks Outrage by Criticizing Smith and Advocaat

When Russell Martin stood at the podium at Ibrox Stadium in August 2025, he didn’t just update fans on tactics—he ignited a firestorm. "Walter Smith and Dick Advocaat were wrong," he said, bluntly. Not "their methods don’t fit today" or "times have changed." He said they were wrong. And for fans who grew up chanting Smith’s name in the Kop, or remember Advocaat’s trophy-laden trio of league titles, it felt like a betrayal.

What Exactly Did He Mean?

Martin didn’t elaborate. Not really. His full quote, as reported by Ibrox Noise, was: "There’s no quick fix here. And if we keep trying to solve today’s problems with yesterday’s blueprints, we’re just delaying the inevitable." He was clearly talking about the club’s long-term decline: financial instability, inconsistent performances, and a growing disconnect between the board and the fanbase. But by naming Smith and Advocaat—two men who together won 22 major trophies—he didn’t just critique strategy. He challenged legacy.

Smith, who managed Rangers from 1991 to 1998 and again from 2007 to 2011, was the architect of the club’s last golden era. He won 10 league titles, six Scottish Cups, and six League Cups. He built teams with grit, discipline, and an unshakable belief in the Rangers way. Advocaat, his Dutch successor from 1998 to 2001, was the tactical innovator who won three straight league titles with a more fluid, possession-based style. Both are legends. Both are carved into the club’s DNA.

Martin’s comments, made during a press conference on August 12, 2025, weren’t just tone-deaf—they were seismic. Fans flooded social media. One supporter tweeted: "You’re the manager, not the historian. Respect the past before you bury it." Another posted a photo of Smith holding the 2008 Scottish Cup, captioned: "He didn’t need TikTok to win."

The Club’s Real Problems

Martin’s frustration isn’t baseless. Rangers haven’t won the Scottish Premiership since 2021. The squad, once stacked with international talent, now looks patchwork. The board has cycled through three CEOs in four years. Debt remains a shadow. And the Old Firm rivalry with Celtic Football Club is no longer a battle of equals—it’s a chasm.

Martin inherited a club in transition. He was appointed in late June 2025, following the departure of Philippe Clement. His first public appearance was on the Let Me Be Frank Podcast on June 19, 2025, where host Frank McAvennie—himself a former Rangers striker—called Martin "the calmest man in a very stormy room." But calm doesn’t always translate to clarity. And in Glasgow, clarity without reverence is dangerous.

The irony? Smith and Advocaat didn’t just win trophies. They understood the weight of the jersey. Smith once said, "Rangers isn’t a club—it’s a community." Advocaat, despite his foreign roots, embraced the culture. Martin’s approach, by contrast, seems to treat the past as baggage.

Why This Matters Beyond Ibrox

This isn’t just about Rangers. It’s about football everywhere. As clubs become more corporate, younger managers are increasingly tempted to dismiss history as irrelevant. But in places like Glasgow, where the stands still echo with chants from the 1970s, that’s a fatal mistake.

Martin’s comments reflect a growing trend: the rise of the data-driven tactician who sees tradition as noise. But football isn’t a spreadsheet. It’s emotion, identity, memory. When a manager tells fans their heroes were wrong, he doesn’t just alienate supporters—he fractures the club’s soul.

Some insiders say Martin is trying to reset expectations. "He’s not disrespecting them," one source close to the club told Ibrox Noise. "He’s trying to say: we need something new. But he chose the worst possible way to say it."

What’s Next?

Martin has until the end of the 2025–26 season to prove his vision works. Rangers sit fifth in the Scottish Premiership as of mid-October 2025. They’ve lost three of their last five league games. The Europa Conference League campaign is already in trouble.

The board hasn’t publicly backed him. The fans haven’t forgiven him. And the ghosts of Smith and Advocaat? They’re still watching from the stands—in every banner, every scarf, every whispered prayer before kick-off.

History Won’t Be Erased

Even if Martin wins the league next year, he won’t erase what came before. Smith’s statue still stands outside Ibrox. Advocaat’s name still hangs in the trophy room. And on match days, the crowd still sings: "Walter Smith, we love you, we always will." The real test for Martin isn’t whether his tactics work. It’s whether he can earn back the trust of a club that still believes in its past.