Nicolas Raskin row tests Russell Martin as Rangers weigh discipline against form

The rift and the stakes

When a manager freezes out one of his best midfielders, it’s never just about one player. At Rangers, the stand-off between Russell Martin and Nicolas Raskin has become the defining storyline of a season that has already started flat. Four league draws on the bounce, a goalless Old Firm at Ibrox, and then another blank against Hearts on September 13. The football’s been cautious; the atmosphere, tense.

Raskin is 24, full of energy, and last season he was the glue in midfield. This year, he’s been out of sight. He missed the Celtic game, then Hearts, and his name has vanished from the teamsheet even as he has rejoined full training. That gap between training and selection tells you this isn’t about fitness. It’s about trust.

Martin hasn’t ducked the subject. He’s said publicly that Raskin’s back on the grass but won’t be involved in games until he earns the confidence of the dressing room and the staff again. He described it as a professional call, not a personal one: standards first, feelings second. If you’ve ever been in a proper football environment, you know what that means—behaviour matters as much as pressing numbers.

What triggered it? Around the club, the word is “undermining”—either in the dressing room or on the training pitch. That’s a loaded word. It covers everything from backchat to ignoring instructions to trying to sway teammates. Some rumours have been rubbished as “absolute nonsense,” including talk of team leaks, but the general theme remains: a line was crossed.

Former striker Tam McManus backed Martin’s stance on social media: no player bigger than the club. That message always lands well with fans who value unity. But there’s a practical side too—Rangers need points and creativity, and Raskin offers both. Strip away the noise and you’re left with a dilemma: can you draw a hard line and still win enough games?

The numbers edge the debate. Since Raskin arrived, Rangers have lost three of 29 league games without him. When he has played, they’ve lost 13 of 68. Run that through your own logic: the team has been stronger across a bigger sample with him available. He presses, he breaks play, and he feeds the front line quicker than most. Rangers aren’t fluid right now, and he’s one of the few who can speed them up without the ball and make simple passes look purposeful.

Inside any club, these moments test everything: the captain’s influence, the manager’s resolve, the leadership group’s voice, even the club’s HR processes. If Martin relents too soon, he looks weak. If he holds the line too long, he risks losing a weapon in midfield and points in the table. And if the squad thinks rules don’t apply to certain players, the whole house creaks.

There’s also the transfer angle. A player with Raskin’s profile will have options. If this drags past winter, expect agents to make calls and clubs to sniff around. Rangers then face a bad choice: sell a good player from a position of weakness or keep an unhappy one. That’s why the next two to three weeks feel decisive.

Martin’s language matters here. He’s framed the situation as a cultural reset: everyone on the pitch must share clarity, trust, and a single set of standards. That’s not just management-speak. It signals to the dressing room that he won’t be swayed by a name or crowd noise. But it also leaves him a route back—if trust is the issue, trust can be rebuilt.

So what does a credible route back actually look like at a club this size? It’s not a motivational speech and a thumbs-up. It’s structure, and it’s staged. Rangers can’t afford a messy compromise, and Raskin won’t accept a face-saving cameo that goes nowhere. Both sides need something they can live with—and the team needs points now.

The playbook to fix it

Here’s a blueprint that fits the realities of elite dressing rooms and the facts on the ground at Ibrox.

• Put the issue in writing. A short, clear code-of-conduct addendum, agreed by player and club, defining expectations: punctuality, tactical adherence, communication channels, and consequences for breaches. No ambiguity, no grey areas.
• Use the leadership group. The captain and two senior pros sit down with player and manager. No cameras, no leaks. The goal is alignment: what was wrong, what will change, how the dressing room sees the path back. Peer pressure is often more powerful than any fine.
• Set a reintegration timeline. Week 1: full training with a defined role in tactical sessions. Week 2: named in the matchday squad if internal targets are met (work-rate metrics, video review compliance). Week 3: controlled minutes off the bench in a game state that suits him. Make it conditional, not calendar-based.
• Rebuild through role clarity. Raskin is at his best breaking lines, hunting the ball, and playing forward early. Give him a narrow, functional brief: recover, connect, reset the tempo. Strip out frills until trust is back.
• Pair accountability with opportunity. Tweak set-pieces and pressing traps to feature him—small tactical levers that give him responsibility without overexposing him. Accountability tends to stick when it’s attached to something visible.
• Close the loop weekly. A 10-minute one-to-one after each matchweek: what worked, what didn’t, what’s next. Measured, consistent, boring in the best way. Consistency rebuilds trust faster than slogans.

None of this guarantees harmony, but it minimizes volatility. It also protects Martin. If Raskin meets the targets, he plays and the manager hasn’t capitulated—he’s followed the process he set. If he misses them, selection stays merit-based, and the dressing room understands why. Either way, the standard holds.

How does this impact the football? In short: the midfield balance. Without Raskin, Rangers have looked safer but slower. The ball progression from deep has been laboured, and the first pass after a turnover often goes sideways rather than through lines. With him, the tempo jumps a notch. The team gets 10 yards higher, the press bites earlier, and the forwards see earlier service.

There’s also the derby hangover to consider. After a 0-0 with Celtic at Ibrox, the message was clear: you can shut the door, but can you break it open? Hearts posed the same question, and Rangers didn’t answer it. Raskin isn’t a No 10, but he’s a catalyst—he makes the game shorter for the creative players by winning the ball in better zones.

Some will say: draw the line, move him on, problem solved. That can work if the squad is stacked with similar profiles. Rangers aren’t built that way right now. They have runners and destroyers, and they have technicians. Raskin is one of the few who mix both. Replace that in September? Not realistic. Replace it in January? Maybe, but you’ll pay a premium and spend weeks bedding the new guy in.

Now, about optics. Fans notice body language. They clock who warms up first, who claps off, who stays out to thank the crowd. If Raskin is to rejoin, let the optics help the story: a visible handshake with the manager, a quiet word with the captain on the touchline, a hard sprint in the 85th minute. Football is theatre as much as sport. Use it.

From a club standpoint, this is also a chance to set a precedent without making a martyr. Establish the process now, apply it again later if needed, and the conversation changes from “Are you picking favourites?” to “Are you following the framework?” That shift protects the head coach and stabilizes the environment.

What about the risk of the dressing room splitting? This is where the leadership group earns its armband. If senior players are aligned, others follow. The key is consistency: if a squad player crosses a line next month, the same steps apply. Culture is repetition, not slogans on the wall.

One more football detail: if and when Raskin returns, design his minutes. Don’t throw him into a frantic Old Firm or a chaotic away day first up. Target a home game with control spells, give him 25 minutes with a simple task—win it, give it, shift the block up. Then reassess. Repeat. After two or three cameos, if the trust holds, start him with a double pivot that protects him while he finds rhythm.

This, ultimately, is a test of judgment. Martin is right to defend his standards; Raskin is right to want back in on merit, not politics. The club needs results, the player needs minutes, the manager needs authority. A clear, staged path satisfies all three.

There’s a line Martin used that’s worth holding onto: it’s not about him, not about Raskin, it’s about the team. If he keeps the focus there—on performance, on process, on repeatable behaviours—he’ll navigate this without losing the room. And if Raskin does the work and makes himself impossible to ignore, the football will make the argument for him.

In the end, Rangers can have both: standards that stick and a midfielder who changes the game state. That’s the job now. Do the boring bits right, and the rest gets a lot simpler.