If ever there was a Hampden Roar, it never let itself be heard when I was present. I was unable to discount the possibility that this "roar" had been an exaggeration, passed down through the generations on the basis of a one-off occurrence or perhaps as the creation of an enthusiastic and patriotic sportswriter.
With this in mind, I note that there is a general consensus on the FF message board which gives credence to the idea that the Ibrox match-day atmosphere was altogether healthier in bygone days.
Whether people started going in the seventies, eighties or nineties, the prevailing view recalls Ibrox as being the home of massed ranks of songsters, and yet having first attended the stadium in the sixties, my recollection is that Ibrox was only atmospheric for fixtures involving Celtic and major European opposition.
Ordinary domestic games only had atmosphere for those in close proximity to the choir. The rest of the ground had fleeting moments of joy when Rangers scored, but it hardly sparked off a menu of tunes in areas noted for quiet attendance rather than hearty singing.
The choir was responsible for the match-day musical repertoire in the sixties, and it was located where the Govan Stand is now. On the Rangers side of the halfway line near the back of the terracing, the first notes of each song would emanate from here, not from behind the goal or from the enclosure, but from the main body of the kirk opposite the main stand.
The Celtic end(Broomloan end) was sparsely populated for domestic games and singing was non-existent here. The main stand was never noted for being a tuneful area and the Rangers end(Copland end) behind the goal was only musical to a serious degree when we entertained Celtic.
The enclosure was almost an unofficial family section, a cut above terracing status, but nowhere near as grand as the stand which looked down on it. Singing occurred here about as often as Glasgow Fair Friday enjoyed uninterrupted and glorious sunshine.
Old Firm games were substantially different of course, and there was genuine atmosphere when the ground was evenly split between blue and green, each side happily giving laldy to the extensive songbooks available to them. These games stood out beacon-like from the more mundane fixtures against the likes of Stirling Albion, Aberdeen and Raith Rovers.
Our European campaign last season should have provided an opportunity to give the team some serious vocal support, but the collective effort soon fell away. It has to be asked though, what point is there in urging on a Rangers team which is frequently reluctant to cross the halfway line?
This might be perceived to be a dig at the Rangers management, which it is, but we should still recognise that a desperately negative team formation will not provoke lustful songs of encouragement from the support. The team has a part to play in creating an exciting atmosphere too, and it has been letting the side down in this area in the recent past.
Ibrox Stadium has rarely provided atmospheric days for visits of the nation`s more humble teams. It is capable of being a cauldron, even in its all-seated form, but the heavy hand of authority leans menacingly on the Rangers-supporting spectator now, and we cannot ignore the role of Labour politicians, the police and a compliant Rangers regime in creating this despicable situation.
We are right to address the issue of the dreadful atmosphere at the stadium on match-days, but as we seek to make Ibrox a vociferous fortress, we should bring some perspective to the subject. Even in the good old days, Ibrox was mostly a quiet place to enjoy the game - as was Parkhead.
The songsters were a minority in the past - just as they are today.