Scotland has always been a nation of innovators.
We gave the world penicillin, television, and the deep‑fried haggis ball.
So why not gift the world our next great breakthrough:
a Premier Superleague consisting of exactly two teams, Rangers and Celtic, locked in eternal, city‑levelling combat.

It’s not punishment.
It’s enrichment.
For them.
For us.
For the emergency services.

After all, no other club has won the league in four decades.
Forty years.
Empires have risen and fallen in less time.
Dinosaurs lasted longer, but only just.

So let’s give the Old Firm what they clearly crave:
a weekly Old Firm derby, every Saturday, forever, until Glasgow finally slides into the Clyde like a weary Victorian tenement giving up on life.

Because make no mistake:
this will destroy the city.

Not metaphorically.
Not spiritually.
Physically.

Every week, the same ritual:

• Windows vibrating themselves into dust
• Bus shelters spontaneously combusting
• Traffic cones fleeing south in organised convoys
• The Duke of Wellington’s cone launching itself into orbit
• Seismologists quietly updating their charts from “tectonic activity” to “football‑related turbulence”

Urban planners will age in dog years.
Council budgets will be measured in “number of Old Firms survived”.
The city’s infrastructure will develop a permanent facial twitch.

But think of the upside.
The rest of the Premiership – Hearts, Hibs, Aberdeen, Dundee United, the whole weary supporting cast – can finally enjoy a league where the title race lasts beyond the first frost.
A league where “challenging for the title” isn’t a euphemism for “finishing 27 points behind Celtic but beating St Mirren twice”.

Meanwhile, Rangers and Celtic get their own private Thunderdome, a bespoke arena of mutually assured destruction, where they can batter each other into rubble every week without dragging the rest of the country into their gravitational field.

It’s tidy.
It’s elegant.
It’s probably the only way anyone else is ever lifting a trophy again.

A Premier Superleague of Two.
A gift to the Old Firm.
A mercy to the Premiership.
And the final, glorious catastrophe that will leave Glasgow’s buildings begging for relegation.