The question forming the soundtrack on the road from Manchester was an urgent "where do Rangers go from here?" The glib answer, of course, is Fir Park, Motherwell, for an early kick-off tomorrow.

The clamour for the Clydesdale Bank Premier League trophy will inevitably drown out more considered reflections of a night in Manchester when the team were outplayed by Zenit St Petersburg and fans clashed with Manchester police.

The vexed question of the Rangers support will be addressed elsewhere and my personal observations are restricted to the build-up to the match. The clearest impression, however, after spending 36 hours in the company of Rangers supporters before the final, is that the club has done well to dismiss sectarian songs from their followers' repertoire at matches.

However, the singing of sectarian lyrics was widespread in Manchester and indulged in by thousands of fans on occasion, particularly in Piccadilly Gardens. This shameful activity was fuelled by industrial amounts of alcohol.

It is difficult to see what more the club can do. They have tried the carrot and the stick but it is impossible for a sporting organisation to police such large groups of people behaving in such an offensive manner.

This is not stated out of some form of misguided complacency but it is the product of the despair of not just this observer but many attached to the club. Rangers, of course, have challenges on the playing side, too. They are more easily addressed even if the solution may remain tantalisingly outwith reach.

There were three immediate responses to the UEFA Cup final defeat and they are all linked to where Rangers are and where they want to be. The reaction covered the end of a dream, the suspicion that Walter Smith and his tactics had been rumbled and the cry for Rangers to employ someone of the calibre of Andrei Arshavin.

The banal assertion that a sporting dream had evaporated only has significance in that it reflects the unreality of Rangers disputing a UEFA Cup final just more than a year after failing to Dunfermline and St Johnstone in domestic trophies.

The accusation that Smith's tactics had been exposed by Dick Advocaat misses the point entirely. Smith has employed a 4-1-4-1 system in all matches where he expects a severe challenge.

His reasoning is that he must first ensure that his team does not leak goals before hoping to capitalise on the moments of vulnerability even the greatest sides experience.

There was no masterplan to rumble. Smith set up his side in the usual manner at the City of Manchester Stadium. Largely, they did what was expected of them in terms of discipline and workrate. They failed to convert either of the two chances they were afforded.

The class of Zenit, and Arshavin, then made the telling intervention for the first, crucial goal. Smith had tried to play percentages, sticking to his experience that the margin of error at this level is small. It paid out in a Florence shoot-out and in a Bremen siege. Once Zenit had scored, however, the Rangers manager and his troops were never likely to be queuing at the pay-out window.

But why did Smith and Rangers play such an unadventurous game? The answer lies both in the character of the Rangers manager and in the resources at his disposal. The murmurings pre-match about the inclusion of Nacho Novo in the line-up were casually dismissed by those of us who have followed Rangers throughout Europe this season.

Smith, when faced with the choice between added security or the potential of flair, always opts for safety first.

This is a matter of personal inclination but it is also made more attractive by the realisation that he does not have the players to indulge in the free-flowing passing that marks sides of the highest class.

It is not a matter of systems but of personnel. A 4-1-4-1 line-up can be viewed with blinkers as entirely defensive. It is when Rangers play it and cannot retain possession far enough up the field to exert persistent pressure. But imagine a 4-1-4-1 employed by Sir Alex Ferguson. This would include a back four that gave width through Patrice Evra and Owen Hargreaves and a secure central defence where Rio Ferdinand was comfortable in bringing the ball out and playing intelligent passes short and long.

The enterprising Michael Carrick could sit as the holding midfielder behind a front five of, say, Ronaldo, Paul Scholes, Wayne Rooney, Ryan Giggs and Carlos Tevez. Great players, therefore, make basic tactics seem the work of genius. Smith has to improve the quality of the squad before he can routinely expect assured possession and regular inspiration.

An Arshavin, of course, would be a substantial step down that road. There is already speculation that Smith seeks such a player. But what coach does not?

The Rangers manager, however, will find it impossible to attract a player of the Russian's assured class. These players cost £10m in transfer fees and £2m a year in wages for the duration of a four- or five-year contract. A £20m transfer kitty would thus be wiped out in one fell swoop if Smith found a player of such unimpeachable gifts willing to ply his trade in Scotland rather than in the English Premier League or La Liga.

It is unlikely to happen.

Smith may strike gold in finding a jewel not yet fully polished. His best hope, however, may lie in uncovering a player through the youth programme at Murray Park.

A John Fleck, say, may become an important contributor to Ibrox fortunes. Similarly, the improvement in fans' behaviour may have to wait for a generation that is suitably educated both in the classroom and in the living-room.

The answer to Rangers' on-field problems and the excesses of their support may therefore lie at home.

They will need luck, at least, to find a satisfactory resolution to both issues.