THE new-age thinking of the social media personalities and hipster online investors has excited some City fans.

But many more will have reacted with apprehension, if now downright horror, at the prospect of their club becoming a cryptocurrency lab experiment.

A world where TikTok rather than tactics forms the backbone of a digital plaything from a group who just want to try “a bunch of unconventional stuff.”

That “stuff” is Bradford City.

The WAGMI United group claim they are going to revolutionise the way clubs are owned in England.

Forget Edin Rahic’s famous claim about “knowing football”, this lot know nothing of the game and are quite unashamed of that fact.

“Happy Jack Settleman”, one of those said to be involved, tweeted a picture of Derek Adams with the caption “Explain who this is to me like I’m five.”

Philadelphia 76ers basketball team president Daryl Morey provides the only sporting credibility in a group otherwise headed by sports gambling analysts, economists and young Youtube wannabes.

The rest, according to the grand gameplan, would be made up by whoever you want on social media.

How many City fans knew of non-fungible tokens or block chains before the story broke in the Washington Post yesterday? And how many have poured over Wikipedia since are still none the wiser?

But that doesn’t matter to WAGMI, they are not chasing the local vote.

This is all about the metaverse (yeah, Google that one as well) and anonymous Twitter followers owning digital products that don’t physically exist … best read that NFT explanation one more time.

The Valley Parade faithful know better than most the pain that can be caused when owners take their eye off the ball – or recklessly plough on with cloud-cuckoo ideas.

Chasing the dream can quickly become living the nightmare.

Two administrations in the early 2000s taught us that; then the implosion under Rahic’s tyrannical rule as years of steady progress were blown away on one man’s whim.

How long until those creating this project get bored? What happens a couple of years down the line when the novelty has long lost its shine and they are seeking the next crypto high in a totally different business?

What then for the Bradford City – and the people - that would be left behind?

I can’t imagine Adams being the managerial fit for this American plaything. We all know he’s a big fan of xG but that’s a big leap to an online world bossed by analytics and buying “stuff” that isn’t real.

Explain who this is to me like I’m five”

Phil Parkinson needed 10 minutes of one meeting to suss out Rahic and get walking. You suspect a similar scenario with another strong character who would not need the hassle of putting his reputation at the whim of those happy to know nothing.

Would Ryan Sparks, who has put in so much in just over a year as chief executive to provide much-needed structure around the club, want to hang about and witness all that hard work suddenly put at risk?

Ultimately, the decision lies with Stefan Rupp. What he says goes and there’s nothing any of us can do about it – other than pray on his judgement.

It is an open secret that he would love to get City off his hands.

The reality is far different from the vision he was sold by Rahic – and their mutual bank manager – when they splashed out £5 million to buy the club from Julian Rhodes and a reluctant Mark Lawn in 2016.

Wembley 12 months later aside, it has been a steady decline ever since with Rahic recriminations, relegation and then a pandemic to cripple football’s economy.

No wonder Rupp has wanted out.

But nobody has been willing to go anywhere near the price tag that he has been hanging on for. Why pay anywhere near £10 million for a club that does not own their ground – and there is little sign of that changing anytime soon – or training facilities?

So, you can understand his interest when America came calling with the promise of meeting his demand.

Who could blame him for selling?

But then how would Rupp be remembered by those he left behind – the man who threw City to the wolves and never looked back?

The German has received his fair share of criticism in recent seasons for his perceived lack of interest in the football.

The virus has obviously prevented him from shuttling between Munich and Manningham but you sense Rupp’s heart has never really been in it – motorsport remains his personal passion.

Yet, Rupp could have cut his ties and taken the hefty financial hit just to walk away and leave all the hassle behind.

The fact he has chosen not to do so is not just down to money. There is also a personal pride in not abandoning his business responsibilities.

That, you hope, will be the voice inside his head right now warning him off this crypto crowd.

Rupp broke his usual silence to issue a statement dismissing their claims that a deal was close. Nothing of the sort was the message from on high.

And for that, for now, we can all breathe a sigh of relief.

Be careful what you wish for is a phrase that springs to mind. Better the absent landlord than mystery ones behind an online avatar.

The lack of professionalism around the American interest was witnessed by those who tuned in to their Twitter “space” announcement last night.

They boasted about arriving in January in time for the transfer window – which ain’t gonna happen – while clearly unaware that Valley Parade and Woodhouse Grove were not club assets.

The ignorance about all things City was summed up in one tactless phrase: “The day-to-day running of the club is good and we don’t intend to come in and start fires.”

Rupp’s leadership has been far from perfect – just compare the current league position with the League One play-off team he inherited – but at least it’s real.

The thought of City being owned in the clouds should be left there.

Don’t say you haven’t been warned.