Dressed in black, wearing masks and hoodies, the Old Firm ultras stormed the pitch… shaming the clubs who have so spectacularly failed to deal with their growing menace

Rewatch the footage and look closely at the still images. Every picture does, indeed, tell a story.

In the seconds which follow Tomas Cvancara slotting home Celtic’s decisive fourth penalty, scores of fans housed in the opposite stand spill onto the park.

A few moments later, dozens of Rangers followers, located at the Copland Road end, jump the advertising hoardings and are making the way towards the halfway line.

There are specks of green and blue in the wide shot, but these are mainly the jerseys on the players’ backs.

Most of those individuals who have just entered the field of play scarcely have a club colour between them.

They are mostly clad head to toe in black, a choice designed to make them appear more menacing. Aware of the risk of being caught on surveillance cameras, masks and hoodies are commonplace, too.

They are mostly members of self-styled ultras groups — predominantly the Green Brigade and the Union Bears. While they were not alone in contributing to the horrendous scenes witnessed at full-time in the Scottish Cup clash, they were certainly at the heart of it.

No investigation by the authorities is necessary to copper bottom that. The evidence of your own eyes is sufficient.

While disorder at football matches in this country is nothing new, never have the chief perpetrators been so apparent.

The balaclavas may disguise the identity of some of the thugs who threw bottles and flares over a police cordon on Sunday, but the groups to which they are affiliated are as clear as day. And here, for the respective clubs, is the issue.

Back in the 1980s, when much of the trouble on match days stemmed from ‘casuals’, there was an inherent difficulty in identifying culprits.

They were spread through stadia which were mostly terraced. There was nothing to be gained by clubs liaising with them, so there was no point of contact.

The ultras moment is distinct. When it first reared its head in Britain 20 years ago, directors of football clubs were understandably captivated by the noise and colour they could bring to a game.

Relationships were forged. Sections of grounds were set aside for them. Often, this new breed of follower would be first in the queue for tickets for away matches. In theory, this was a ‘win-win’ situation. The practice, not so much.

With no real boundaries set at the outset, anti-social and illegal behaviour became endemic. Blind eyes were turned by those in the heated seats in the hope that self-policing would have the desired effect, but the tally of related problems has only risen on both sides of the Glasgow divide.

Police wield batons as they attempt to keep order in another highly-charged Old Firm fixture

As the number of ultras has grown exponentially, a certain attitude has prevailed. We bring the atmosphere to your stadium, so we will do exactly as we please. We are answerable to no one.

As time has gone on, Celtic and Rangers have had cause to regret getting into bed with these groups in the first place. 

They must often feel like the householder who invites their eccentric neighbour to a party then watches them throw-up all over their new white carpet.

Back in November, Celtic had had their fill and opted to place a firm hand on the shoulder. Following ‘violent and threatening’ behaviour at a home game against Falkirk on October 29, around 200 Green Brigade members were suspended for six games.

With the atmosphere at matches affected, there’s been growing pressure on the hierarchy to relent for the good of the team, but they haven’t yet done so. The official lock-out is now in its fifth month.

Events at the weekend make a resolution to that impasse more unlikely than ever. Even before the match kicked off, footage emerged online of ticketless Celtic ultras storming a door and rushing past stewards at the Broomloan Road end to gain entry.

Two days before the game, the Green Brigade confirmed that they hadn’t been permitted to unfurl a giant tifo inside the ground but, instead, would ‘distribute materials to the Celtic support at the turnstiles’.

So, without any question, they were present. And given how it all ended, it seems highly unlikely they’ll be anywhere near the standing section of Celtic Park any time soon.

You’d have paid considerably more than a penny for the thoughts of Andrew Cavenagh as the depressing scene played out. The key member of the consortium which bought a controlling interest in Rangers last year, the American chairman’s vision for the club is to be the best possible version of itself, a vibrant, modern football institution that can hold its head up at UEFA’s top table.

Rangers ultras make their way back to the stand as an even uglier confrontation is averted

Seeing scores of masked louts dashing onto the field to confront their opposite numbers must be a million miles away from that vision.

Rangers already have twin threats from UEFA of having the Copland Road stand closed and a ban on away fans hanging over them following separate incidents across the past year in European matches.

Like his counterparts at Celtic, there may come a point where Cavenagh and his fellow directors feel that they simply can’t look the other way any longer. At the very least, some new ground rules are going to have been drawn up and adhered to because this unruly behaviour by a minority plainly cannot continue.

‘I think we should celebrate ultras groups in terms of their penchant for football,’ said Greater Glasgow’s Chief Superintendent Emma Croft. ‘But what they need to do is work with the clubs so that their behaviour is acceptable in terms of societal needs and norms.

‘When it tips over onto the threshold of criminality, fear and retribution, that can’t be tolerated. That’s the bit that needs to be dealt with.’

It’s not just the hierarchy at both clubs for whom the conduct of ultras groups is an issue, though.

While most other fans do welcome what they bring in terms of atmosphere, many who’d consider themselves to be more traditional have little time for their self-indulgent, self-righteous attitudes.

What makes these followers who do not see fit to wear the club’s jersey or scarf more important than them?

It’s on foreign soil where this division is most apparent. Like oil and water, socially, the scarf-wearing traditionalists and the ultras — teens and early 20s — just do not mix.

Speak to anyone bedecked in green or blue on such trips and, at best, there’s a mild suspicion of those in the dark clothing. Despite following the same football team, some find it hard to mask their antipathy towards them.

A Rangers ultra clad in hoodie and balaclava runs menacingly towards the Celtic support

Often fuelled by a conspicuous predilection for class A drugs, their antagonistic behaviour is best avoided.

But while some will rue the day that Italy gave birth to the ultras culture in this country, it would be wrong to condemn it per se.

There’s now scarcely a club in the country which doesn’t have its own dedicated band which literally chants to the beat of a drum. From food banks and toy drives, some of the charitable and community work done by these groups is highly commendable.

Falkirk is a prime example of a club where it works perfectly. There’s a two-way transmission between the directors and those who come in via Gate 20 of the Kevin McAllister Stand. There’s just no downside to the vociferous backing John McGlynn’s side enjoy because the parameters have been set at the outset.

Celtic and Rangers are now desperately trying to put the genie back in the bottle. Good luck with that.

In a wider sense, Sunday’s appalling scenes will certainly end any prospect of future league matches being played in front of between 7,000-8,000 visiting fans, as they once were.

The most engrossing season in living memory now feels like it has taken a turn into a dark place. For those 10 hellish minutes after the match on Sunday, all sense of decency and decorum just felt lost.