Then again, the Football League could push ahead with its plan to bring Rangers and Celtic south and introduce religious bigotry to English sport that way.

Tomorrow is a big day for the national game on three fronts. In London, a meeting of chairmen will consider whether to defy the FA by considering the proposal to incorporate Rangers and Celtic into the Nationwide League first division, perhaps in time for next season; the rest of Scottish football waits to hear if it will be cut adrift and left to team up with Denmark, The Netherlands, the Faeroe Isles or whichever piece of Atlantic flotsam it needs to beef up its TV contract soonest. Meanwhile, the Welsh FA will sift through the wreckage from the last time sport and human prejudice were allowed to collide so thoughtlessly.

Cardiff City versus Leeds United, FA Cup third round, January 6, 2002, footage of which should be compulsory viewing for any chairman contemplating making Saturday afternoon a political football by welcoming sectarianism to the first division. Tomorrow, the fallout from Sam Hammam’s decision to hijack Welsh nationalism for his own commercial ends earlier this season will be considered. Not by the FA (whose much-hyped revolution has not as yet included taking full control of its own tournament) but by the Welsh FA, which claimed jurisdiction over the match and its aftermath amid understandable fears of fudge, compromise and vested interest.

Whatever the outcome, the disgraceful scenes at Ninian Park must serve as a warning. Hammam, a master rabble-rouser with many years’ experience at Wimbledon, succeeded in harnessing anti-English sentiment in the Welsh capital but had no idea how to control it. Just as those who would vote Rangers and Celtic into the first division will be powerless once the shockwaves from the decision are felt.

In the good old days, the most dangerous thing at Hammam’s club was his team. The Crazy Gang were colourful rogues but essentially harmless. At Cardiff, Hammam played with the tiny brains of some serious thugs and the emotions of thousands more individuals who did not deserve to have their buttons pressed in a callous and calculating manner. The result — Leeds players attacked, others hit by missiles, visiting fans terrified — made for one of the most depressing afternoons of recent seasons, made worse by the Cardiff chairman’s refusal to accept responsibility.

So will the chairmen who wish to fast-track Rangers and Celtic into the Football League to salvage a fast buck from a television deal stand up and be counted if Irish Republicanism meets English nationalism head-on at the New Den next season? Developments yesterday suggested the FA is considerably more aware of the implications than its colleagues at league headquarters. For these issues need to be addressed — and now, not after the fact, as in Cardiff.

It is pointless pretending that Millwall do not remain, by comparison with other clubs, a dodgy stronghold of English nationalism and Celtic do not sing songs directly associated with support for the IRA. Just because the sensible majority outnumber the lunatic fringe does not mean that good will prevail.

The vast number of Millwall fans did not riot after losing to Birmingham City in the play-off semi-finals — but the ones who did made an impact. Fly an Irish tricolour in their faces and see what happens.

Truly violent fans always are in the minority, we are told. Whether at Ninian Park, following England away or chanting racist abuse when Leeds visit Leicester City. But the atmosphere around a club, what it comes to represent, gets the missiles flying.

The Glasgow clubs represent a secular interest in a way no Englishman comprehends. I have been to derby matches in Rome, Milan, London, Manchester and Liverpool. I have witnessed the great rivalries between Barcelona and Madrid, Amsterdam and Rotterdam. But nothing compares with the Old Firm match for awfulness and naked hatred. It is not football. It is not fun.

Even leaving such issues aside, it is hard to believe that the process has been thought through. Henrik Larsson did not sign up for a year spent trawling around the grounds that time and ITV Digital forgot. Joining Celtic or Rangers is a guarantee of European football, often in the Champions League. This opens transfer market doors that might otherwise stay closed. Would living in Glasgow and finishing in mid-table have the same appeal? Won’t the Old Firm’s purchasing power suffer? Conversely, why, after 16 years waiting, would Wolverhampton Wanderers vote to have next year’s first division promotion places reduced by two? And if the benefits of playing in the Premiership ultimately do to Rangers’ and Celtic’s fortunes what the money men expect, it is hardly good business for Arsenal, Manchester United and Liverpool. Short term, a few more pennies from Mr Murdoch, long term the potential dead end that is Uefa Cup football.

Yet what makes this judgment call unique is that, largely, when a club makes a bad financial move, it suffers alone; with this one, misery spreads. What to do when a small boy from a different world decides that Rangers are his team, the way so many beyond Manchester have settled on United, and is introduced to a world of bigotry that stretches far beyond an irrational dislike of a local rival.

Don’t believe it could not happen to an impressionable mind. Did Paul Gascoigne ever celebrate a goal by playing an imaginary flute before he pitched up at Ibrox? Buy into the club and you buy into its soul. Or, as Terry Butcher’s immaculately dressed wife was told on her first Rangers match day: “We don’t wear green here.”

I asked a non-aligned Scottish friend for his view and he said the Scottish Premier League should pack Rangers and Celtic on the first train south as soon as possible.

“Why?” He gave me a look reserved for innocents and imbeciles. “Because they’re horrible,” he said. “You’ll be begging us to take them back within two years.”

He didn’t mean the players or staff and didn’t even comment on the football. He cited the clubs, what they have come to represent and the baggage that they will bring to English football. A culture that sincerely does not need its touchpaper lit — whether by nationalists, religious fanatics or just more frightened men voting with their wallets.