Shakh-ing Night For Celtic

2-0, and as Shakhtar Donetsk manager Mircea Lucescu said, it could have been six. Everyone knows the statistic: fourteen Champions League away trips, no wins, just the one draw.

Looked at like that it reads like a formality, these pastings Celtic routinely endure on their travels. Like it's just part of a script, an intricate footballing protocol that features rousing home performance on one page, depressing away capitulations on the other.

Belief in the inevitability of it is backed up by the respective chequebook stubs of Celtic and Shakhtar. Celtic's summer business was constituted by the £8.1 million spend on midfielders Scott Brown and Massimo Donati, and the strikers Scott McDonald and Chris Killen. Shakhtar spent £35 million, largely on strikers Cristiano Lucarelli and Nery Castillo. Go figure.

But there is nothing inevitable in sport, as several of the Celtic players from last night would tell you from their experience seven days previously in Stade de France. Alex McLeish's Scottish side defeated France thanks to a courageous defensive performance, one borne of a collective understanding of what would be required to get a result against France.

Gordon Strachan's Celtic last night, on the other hand, were set up in a manner that seemed to ignore their previous struggles away from home and presume that they should take on the lucratively assembled Shakhtar side toe-to-toe. Ten minutes in with a 4-4-2 formation that left their rearguard flooded, and another awayday nightmare was in progress. Paul Hartley's redeployment to the same holding job he performed against France for his country came too late to do anything other than limit the damage.

There is also nothing inevitable about the sort of individual error that gifted Donetsk their opener. Stephen McManus, the defensive rock on which Scotland's resistance was built last week, gaffed the ball to the feet of Donetsk's creative lynchpin Fernandinho, and the game was up right there.

So whether it was destiny or decision, it was yet another harsh 'lesson' for Celtic. Still, if the standard Champions League curriculum is followed, AC Milan will be swept aside in a night of high emotion at Parkhead in two weeks time.

It's inevitable, isn't it?

TSA SPL Preview: It Takes Two

When is a two-horse race not a two-horse race? When it's a one-horse race.

Ask anyone on this dirty old planet who has even the most fleeting acquaintance with football matters about the SPL, and your reply will, in every case, include the words "Celtic" and "Rangers", and perhaps also "Mickey" and "Mouse".

But while, in broad historical terms, the notion of the two-team cartel is reinforced by the record books, the last couple of decades have seen, in general, monopoly rather than duopoly.

From the late 1980s until the late 1990s, Rangers utterly dominated Scottish football, their eminence powered by the liberal chequebook of owner and chairman David Murray. Celtic, along with all other rivals, were cowed into distant inferiority by the Ibrox club's financial clout.

Then, as Murray's efforts to extend his team's success to the European theatre petered out with the dwindling of his financial largesse, the club now known as Celtic plc found the on-field general to match footballing success to their stronger financial situation, when Martin O'Neill became manager in the summer of 2000.

The title count in the years since has been 5-2 in Celtic's favour, with the two Rangers successes being nailbiting, last day finishes; the first while their rivals were distracted by a UEFA Cup campaign that saw them reach the final, the second in O'Neill's final days as manager, when his aging team threw the title away in the dying moments of their final game against Motherwell.

Celtic's triumphs, on the other hand, have been by 15, 18, 17, 17 (from Hearts in second in 2005-06) and 12 points respectively, and in each of those seasons the champions were 'pulling up' before the finish, foregoing meaningless points that would have meant even bigger margins of victory, often in favour of experimentation with young players.

So, will the 2007-08 season, which starts on Saturday with Rangers' lunchtime visit to Inverness (Celtic unfurl the league flag against Kilmarnock on Sunday afternoon), see the SPL return to close combat between the Glasgow big two, or will Celtic's domination continue with another canter to the title?

In purely financial terms, the Parkhead club look to be operating with much superior weaponry than their old enemy. Celtic outbid Rangers for the signing of Scott Brown, the £4.4 million Gordon Strachan's side paid being far in excess of the fee Rangers by which had hoped to secure the highly rated youngster.

Scott McDonald arrived at Celtic from Motherwell after also being a target for Rangers, joining Chris Killen, the New Zealander recruited from Hibs. Massimo Donati's signature from AC Milan has thus far concluded Strachan's summer business, although many expect further movement in the remaining month of the summer transfer window, with full-backs especially seen as a priority.

Rangers have also been extremely active, even if Walter Smith's budget has not matched those he enjoyed in his first spell as manager. The new men may not be of the calibre of Brian Laudrup and Paul Gascoigne, but the likes of Carlos Cuellar (£2.4 million from Osasuna), Lee McCulloch (£2.25 million from Wigan Athletic), Stephen Whittaker (£2 million from Hibs), as well as free transfers DaMarcus Beasley (PSV Eindhoven), Jean Claude Darcheville (Bordeaux) and Roy Carroll (West Ham) demonstrate that, at the very least, the Ibrox faithful will have the novelty of new faces to enjoy.

Most observer expect Rangers' challenge to be immeasurably more competitive this season. Walter Smith's return inspired a retrieval of self-respect from the second half of a season which had brought only embarassment and internal strife under the stewardship of Paul Le Guen.

Smith's wealth of experience and keen understanding of the Scottish game should ensure Rangers will be a stronger force at home this season, even if the manager's record in Europe during his first period in charge does little to promise a badly-needed, revenue-generating Champions League run.

As far the rest, the hope inspired by Vladimir Romanov's initial arrival in Scottish football that Hearts might become a genuine third force has long been dissipated in a firestorm of managerial rows, player revolts and peculiar transfer dealings. Aberdeen, third last season, will be happy to repeat the feat having lost captain Russell Anderson to Sunderland, while Hibs have been victims of their own successful youth policy, Brown and Whittaker joining the long list of Easter Road talent who have left for bigger things.

This season, it seems, those running Scottish football would be perfectly happy to have the much maligned two-horse race back in place, rather than the procession it often, actually, is.

Relief for Celts - But Challenges Ahead

More than once in the moments after Celtic sealed the SPL title yesterday, the television commentators mentioned the fact that Gordon Strachan had gone from being booed a week previously (for his decision to substitute Derek Riordan with Kenny Miller in the Scottish Cup semi-final victory over St.Johnstone) to enjoying the cheers due to a league-winning manager.

The peculiarity of Strachan's second season as Celtic manager is pretty well summed up by that little dose of schizophrenia. The majority of Celtic fans, in their rational moments, acknowledge that, in terms of tangible achievement, 2006-07 is one of the most significant in the club's history. Another league title, a possible Scottish Cup to follow and, for delicious sauce, a last 16 place in the Champions League.

However, much of the second half of the season has been dour viewing for Celtic fans, with the majority of the club's points being won through toil and determination rather than the flair with which the manager always hoped his teams to prevail. The stumbling form of recent weeks slowed the champions-elect's momentum to a snail's pace, such that supporters nervously eyed the dwindling fixtures list, lest the unthinkable happen.


A shame that; had Celtic's season been turned on it's head, and the club roared to the title after a poor start, rather than the other way round, then perhaps the 2006-07 championship would be remembered as fondly as the 1985-86 one, which Celtic won by goal difference in the final moments of the last day.


Still, yesterday's celebrations at Rugby Park were all the more vociferous, thanks to the immense release of tension that Shunsuke Nakamura's injury time free-kick provided. The dramatic nature of the Japanese magician's trademark winner certainly gave gusto to the party atmosphere, but the relief at not having to endure another interminable week, followed by yet another nervous ninety minutes at Parkhead on Sunday, was also undoubtedly audible.



The latter part of Celtic's 41st title-winning season was beginning to strongly resemble the dark Spring of 2005, when Martin O'Neill's team ran out of steam just short of the finish line. But while Strachan's predecessor's place in the supporters' hearts was already so copperfastened as to leave his legacy largely intact, many have withheld the same tolerance from the current incumbent.



Some have claimed to detect the foul whiff of sectarianism from the Celtic support for this fact, suggesting that had Strachan been of 'traditional' Celtic stock, any shortcomings would have been overlooked.



Certainly, it behoves Celtic not to dismiss this point out of hand; many were quick to accuse their cross-town rivals of similarly suspect motives in the undermining of their first ever Catholic manager, Paul Le Guen, during his brief reign as manager, and have also jeered at the seeming 'reformation' of 'traditional' (that word again) Rangers values under Walter Smith.



All the same, football club supporters, as entities, have a funny way of demonstrating a singular logical intelligence that transcends the boiling individual passions within. Celtic fans may duly applaud and enjoy another title, and will treasure the memories of the Champions League victories over Benfica and Manchester United, as well as the courageous tussles with Milan. They will also note with approval the financial housekeeping that has allowed such successes on what is a vastly reduced budget from the one O'Neill used.



At the same time, they are not blind to the utter paucity of serious rivals to Celtic's dominance over the last two seasons. Aside from Hearts' heady opening to the 2005-06 term, which was terminated by wounds self-inflicted, Strachan's side have had a relatively straightforward run of things. The fact that Rangers have fallen to perhaps the lowest ebb in their history in that time is too significant to ignore.



The fluent, passing football with which Strachan has pledged to have his team play has rarely been seen of late, and most departments of the team have malfunctioned. Rather than the minor tinkering which the manager might have hoped his team would have required going into his third year in the job, it seems that major surgery is required, certainly in central midfield and up front.



Already Strachan, chief executive Peter Lawell and the Celtic board will have begun planning for next season, and the summer transfer window that precedes it. They will carry a larger stack of chips to this particular poker table than they have been able to of late, thanks to the Champions League run and the prudence of recent years. They will need it, however, to compete with the cash-laden Premiership clubs, weighed down with more television money than ever.



They will also be aware of the renewed focus from within Ibrox, and will know that such a feeble domestic challenge is unlikely to materialise from there again. Then there is the knowledge that a Champions League qualifier must be negotiated in the late summer, that most perilous and nerve-wracking of entrance exams for Europe's Ivy League.



Here's hoping that Gordon Strachan enjoyed his supporters' cheers yesterday, and a well-earned celebration last night to boot - for the hard work will very soon start all over again.

McGeady's Time Comes

As a player who has made his fledgling reputation through trickery and guile, you'd think timing would have been one of Aiden McGeady's strong points. Possibly, when he chose to represent Ireland schoolboys as a 15-year-old at Celtic youths, with the Irish senior team on their way to a World Cup and the country of his birth at its lowest ever footballing ebb, he might have reckoned he was hitching a ride on a gravy train of international success.

Instead, just as the young Glaswegian came to footballing maturity, he found his boxcar chugging to a halt down a rusty siding.

Of course, McGeady didn't quite - as is generally perceived in Scotland - 'snub' the country of his birth for the promise of glory in that of his grandparents. The winger had intended to play for Scotland schoolboys; however, because Celtic did not allow their youth players to play for their schools, and Scotland in turn did not select schoolboys who did not actually turn out for their school teams, the call of Erin beckoned McGeady.

Well, more accurately, the dulcet tones of Packie Bonner, he of Burtonport in Co.Donegal, just a matter of miles away from the McGeadys' ancestral home. Bonner, then goalkeeping coach to the Irish team, persuaded McGeady to try out for the Irish U-15 squad, and he remained largely anonymously involved with Ireland's underage teams until his sudden success at Celtic brought upon him the ire of Scotland's more self-righteous football observers.

Although McGeady's decision to pledge his allegiance to the FAI rather than the SFA could be excused on the technicality of the dilemma presented to him as a 15-year-old, it is probably inaccurate to rule out the role of personal ambition in his decision. Certainly, had Ireland and Scotland's relative positions at that stage been reversed, one wonders whether the ember of Irish patriotism would have burst so completely aflame.

Still, have no doubt that Scotland's loss will become ever more apparent over time, regardless of the general performance of the two nations. Stephen Staunton has turned to McGeady as part of the panacea to the malady that has laid Ireland's national side so low in recent times. Along with Kevin Doyle, the Celtic winger is one of two changes to the team that lulled 72,000 people toward an afternoon siesta last Saturday. The aim is clear: an improved performance, yes, but a little bit of excitement wouldn't go amiss either.

Already Staunton's friends in the media are nursing a Stephen Hunt shaped stick with which to beat the manager should McGeady not impress, and Ireland underperform again. Certainly, the Reading man's continued exclusion is harsh in the extreme, given not only his positive contributions in his two brief international cameos, but also the fact that he has been one of the Premiership's most consistently eye-catching performers (too eye-catching as far as Petr Cech was concerned). Hunt's innate enthusiasm would seem ideally suited to lifting the often mopish mood that afflicts the current Irish team.

However McGeady will not be lacking in enthusiasm either. His dribbling wizardry and attacking nature will provide a well-deserved entertainment factor for the long suffering Ireland faithful. Just as importantly, his control, ball-retention and passing ability will be invaluable in a team for whom such basics often looked alien on Saturday.

Three years on from his Celtic debut, 20-year-old McGeady remains a player of gigantic promise, rather than a finished product, for all that his ongoing improvement as been consistent and tangible in that time. Celtic supporters - aware of the fact that manager Gordon Strachan continues to spare the winger the more attritional of SPL conflicts - while delighted at the call-up, will worry that the carefully tended prize of their garden has been requisitioned to feed the malnourished Irish team, and that its ongoing turmoil might afflict him also.

Still, McGeady's manful display against AC Milan in the San Siro a few weeks ago suggests that he could be reaching the sort of maturity which relishes such challenges as this evening's. Perhaps his country's timing in picking the man could prove better than the man's in picking his country.

Young Man, There's No Need To Feel Down

Darren O'Dea is actually 20 years old. He turned 20 four weeks ago. And to think they gave me an award for this!

Anyway, the boy (or man I suppose now) is a bit special, that I do know for sure. After the final whistle of the 90 minutes last night, as the players gathered their breaths and the coaches talked pep, O'Dea lay on the San Siro turf getting his legs rubbed. For all the stress visible on his face he could have been a kid lying in a city park on a sunny Sunday afternoon, missing just a can of lager by his side.

He was probably just about the best of a very fine bunch of Celtic players last night. Over the course of the two legs, Milan were clearly the stronger team, but as PSV Eindhoven demonstrated last night, winning through two-legged European ties is not necessarily about being the better team.

Right up until the 120th minute of last night's tie, Celtic were just a goal away from preventing AC Milan reaching the Champions League quarter-finals for the first time in five years. Had the Austrian referee awarded either of Celtic's strong penalty claims, who would have bet against them preventing Milan from acquiring the two goals they would then have needed, especially with Artur Boruc in such majestic form?

Boruc, Lee Naylor, Aiden McGeady, Paul Telfer, Stephen McManus and Evander Sno were all magnificient for a Celtic, but O'Dea was awesome. Not simply in a 'for one so young' way, but his reading of the game, decisiveness and timing were perfection. Over to you , Mr.Staunton.

In the end though this performance garnered nothing but platitudes about bravery and heroism. However, it promised much for Gordon Strachan's team. The club's recent thrift has left them in a position to invest in quality come the summer, and while they will still be paupers in comparison to even the strugglers in next season's cash-gorged Premiership, the experience of last night bodes well.

Who knows, perhaps an away win in Europe's premier competition mightn't be out of the question.

Don't be scared, It's only the San Siro

Imagine being Darren O'Dea.

You're 19 years old and tonight you play for Celtic. Against AC Milan. In the San bloody Siro. You've come up through the ranks, made the international underage teams, been groomed for the top for some time. In the youth academy at Celtic you'd have been given talks about handling pressure, about dealing with testing situations.

You've played at Parkhead, even against Milan, and done fine - more than fine. But tonight you play in the San Siro. 19 years old!

I went to Milan two-odd years ago to watch Celtic play AC in the group stages of the 2004-05 Champions League. It was my first time in the stadium, and I clearly remember being awestruck. I clearly remember being drunk also, but yes, awestruck too.

It's a little shaggy round the edges now, but the famous cylindrical towers and the stacked tiers are utterly distinctive and the place has an aura that few other stadiums can match. I remember feeling intimidated - as well as awestruck and drunk - even by sitting in the stand behind the goal. Not intimidated in the sense that my safety was in danger, rather by proxy for the Celtic players who had to play there.

Then there was the noise made when Milan scored. Not a smiling "yeeeeessssssss" sound at all, but a primal roar from the curva sud, belligerent and aggressive.

Darren O'Dea and his colleagues face a herculean task to get a result in this place. It's not the greatest ever Milan team (but still a very strong one), and the stadium will not be full, but the imposing character of the arena would test the most experienced professional.

The mental preparation of the players will probably be Gordon Strachan's biggest challenge this evening, requiring the manager to cajole his players into a winning combination of full-blooded commitment and ice cool temperament.

The result of the first leg leaves both teams with a conundrum of sorts in planning their approach, with both requiring a goal to progress, yet neither needing one to survive. However Milan will almost certainly attempt to kill the tie early on, preventing confidence from growing within the Celtic ranks.

The first half hour of the match will be crucial for Celtic: survive it and they will feel intimidated neither by opposition nor venue.

But still - 19 years old!

Celts Get Back to Work

Since the Champions League group stages ended on 6 December, Celtic have been enjoying a winter break. But the players haven't been on any golfing trips to Dubai, or getting away for a few days with the wife and kids. Indeed, during this sabbatical, the furthest they got from wintery Glasgow was even less balmy Inverness.

Oh and they had some league games to play out as well, a couple of cup ties too. But considering that Celtic went 10 points clear at the top of the SPL on 29th October, the business of serious domestic football at Parkhead ceased quite some time ago.

Tomorrow night, however, the holiday is over. AC Milan arrive at Parkhead and the ground will reawaken from hibernation with a jolt that a richter scale could measure.

The importance of football matches is usually classified using that simplest of adjectives: bigness. As in, this game is bigger than that one; this is the biggest game in our history; it's a big game for us at Rochdale on Saturday. For Celtic, undoubtedly, tomorrow night is Big.

With the myopic historians of the UEFA Champions League deciding that the last 16 in Europe's premier competition did not exist before 1992, Celtic's progression to this stage is considered a first for the club (despite regular appearances in the latter stages of the old European Cup in the 1960s and 70s).

The fact that Celtic have all but copper-fastened another league title at home adds to the importance of the Champions League in their attentions, given that Gordon Strachan's team have been able to keep one eye on Milan since the draw was made.

However, rather than spend their canter to the league title rehearsing for the Big Night, Strachan has been ostensibly taking each domestic game on its own merits, picking teams to win three points rather than to bed-in for Milan.

In defence Celtic are likely to have to select 19-year-old Irishman Darren O'Dea alongside Stephen McManus, with the more experienced likes of Gary Caldwell and Bobo Balde injured.

However, since Balde was stretchered off against Dundee United on Boxing Day, Strachan has only chosen tomorrow night's likely centre-half pairing on two occasions - the 1-1 draw at Motherwell on 30 December and the 4-1 victory over Livingston in the Scottish Cup. Even those two selections were brought about by necessity, the former being prior to Stephen Pressley's recruitment as cover, the latter after the deposed Hearts skipper had sustained an injury.

Not that Strachan hasn't been thinking about Milan though. Indeed the Celtic boss almost thought he had cracked how to conquer the Italians. "I thought 'great, fantastic' but the problem was we needed 13 Celtic players on the pitch to do it. And Uefa are making us play with 11," he admitted last week.

The Italians' reputation and standing automatically commands respect. But Celtic could have picked worse times to test their mettle against the Serie A giants. Leaving aside the 8 point deduction for their role in last year's match fixing scandal, this has not been a vintage year for the Rossoneri.

Adding those points to their current total would leave them in fourth with 41 points, 22 behind leaders Inter and far from the almost permanent residence in the top two that they enjoyed in recent seasons. The loss of Andrij Shevchenko has left them rather toothless up front and their total of 32 goals in 23 games (four of which came in yesterday's win over Siena) is the main reason for their unspectacular station, points deduction apart.

What better way to resolve toothlessness than by recruiting Ronaldo, he of the Bugs Bunny choppers (but oh, were it only carrots that the rotund Brazilian chomped those famous incisors on!). However, like the less vaunted Pressley and Paul Hartley, Celtic's transfer window recruits, Ronaldo is ineligible for the Champions League.

Judging by the concentrated caution which characterised Celtic's victory over Manchester United, and the patient, narrow game favoured by AC, the tie could be decided by two of the best dead ball practitioners in the business: Celtic's Shunsuke Nakamura and AC's Andrea Pirlo. Both have perfected the taking of free-kicks to the point where goals are delivered almost on demand from any distance within 30 yards of goal.

Nakamura's winner against United started Celtic's winter of ease, given that it insured second stage qualification and that he team barely turned up in Copenhagen for the final group stage match.

If he can pick up from where he left off tomorrow night, Celtic's winter break will have done them the power of good.

Hell Hath No Fury

Yesterday the normally stagnant waters in which the minnows of the Gaelic football swim were rendered all choppy by the 'transfer' of Thomas Walsh, star midfielder with Leinster strugglers Carlow, to near neighbours Wicklow. That the latter county's manager is Mick O'Dwyer, the legendary former Kerry boss, but also a serial snaffler of players from other counties in his subsequent jobs, has led to all sorts of conspiracy talk within Carlow.

Whether Walsh was 'enticed' by the sweet-talking man from the Kingdom or not (O'Dwyer strenously denies any such allegations), the howls of antagonism from Carlow would tend to suggest that the offending player may do well to avoid the streets of his native Fenagh, the club from whom he transferred to Bray Emmets.

Transfers within the GAA remain something of a taboo subject. Strictly speaking a player can move when his living circumstances permit it, but the idea of changing club or county for personal betterment contravenes the pervading spirit of the greater good of home parish, then county.

Although the reasons for Walsh's move are not yet clear - he stated only a few days before submitting his transfer request that he would not be going anywhere - and though he apparently now lives in Wicklow, one can only assume the opportunity to profit from the O'Dwyer dividend in Wicklow had some influence on his decision.

For soccer fans, for whom the transfer system is as intrinsic a part of their game as boots and balls, the whole idea of loyalty is tantamount to an anachronism. That knowledge, however, doesn't save some moving players from the full force of a jilted fanbase.

A few weeks ago Shaun Maloney left Celtic for Aston Villa on the final day of the January transfer window, having been involved in protracted contract discussions with the Hoops for around a year. The outpouring of hostility toward the player - ostensibly making a professional decision based on a superior financial package - amongst the Celtic support was vociferous, to the point where many have withdrawn previously-held good wishes for the success of Martin O'Neill's new venture as Villa manager.

The player's perceived betrayal replicated a similar move on the part of Liam Miller to Manchester United, the downward trajectory of whose subsequent career provided a source of schadenfreude to many a Celtic supporter.

It seems that any self-respecting support must adopt bunny-boiling tendencies when faced with being spurned by a former hero. Spurs had Sol Campbell, Barcelona had Luis Figo. Of course it didn't help that the players involved moved to sworn rivals in both those cases.

The lexicon of love applies so conveniently here because depth of affection toward football player is often dangerously parallel to directed toward a relationship partner. Fans might talk about the betrayal with reference to the amount of time and money spent making a player successful, much in the way a rejected lover might talk of the emotional commitment laid waste by the sight of a short skirt or the flutter of forbidden eyelashes.

Everton supporters had the look of frumpy divorcées when Wayne Rooney jumped into the glamourous arms of Manchester United. When they first got their hands on him he was just a scruffy lad, they turned him into.....well, you get the point. Most pointedly, there was a sense of bafflement, only they seeing why their man had left the dowdy matron for the sultry debutante.

The Wicklow football team mightn't resemble a sultry debutante much, but try telling that to Thomas Walsh's jilted former county. Next time he returns to Carlow, he might even find his sports car's headlights smashed in and all his suits cut into pieces.

The Ten Big Questions of 2007 - Part Three

9. Will Celtic be the 'peepul'?
While schadenfreude is probably one of the politer emotions Celtic supporters will be experiencing as their eternal rivals' bloody civil war continues, the feud between Paul Le Guen and Barry Ferguson is only the latest chapter in the seemingly unstoppable downward spiral in the fortunes of Rangers Football Club.

Triumph and disaster are often fleeting impostors in football, as Leeds United's descent from the Champions League demonstrates, but over the course of a number of seasons, genuine statements on a club's standing can be made. Taking the last seven years into account, it can clearly be said that Celtic have replaced Rangers as the pre-eminent force in Scottish football.

In that time Celtic have won four championships and have almost certainly secured a fifth. Rangers won two titles in that time. But both Rangers successes were achieved in the final minutes of the season's final days, in contrast to the monstrous points advantages Celtic enjoyed in all of their championship victories.

Rangers 2003 success came while Celtic were preoccupied with a run to that season's UEFA Cup final, and their 2005 title was won on the back of an incredible collapse by the Parkhead club in the dying minutes of their final match against Motherwell.

This gradually emerging picture of superiority stretches to another area in which Rangers were traditionally dominant: the clubs' relative financial states. Enfeebled by Scottish football's limited market, neither are stupendously wealthy; but Celtic have been returning consistently more solid balance sheets, a fact that has had its logical conclusion on the park, where the Hoops have been able to recruit to a markedly higher standard of late.

What is significant about this switch is what it represents about deeper cultural roles in that divided city. Rangers supporters' familiar chant, "We are the People!" (pronounced "weearrapeepul!"), describes a deeply ingrained sense of superiority, borne of their membership of the Protestant establishment, in particular in how it related to the lowly, Catholic, immigrant stock who supported their rivals.

The fortunes of their respective football teams - in general - supported that view, with Rangers winning 51 league titles to Celtic's 40, but the feeling overrode mere football results. It survived Celtic's European eminence and nine league titles in a row in the late 1960s and early 1970s and Rangers' prolonged mediocrity until the arrival of Graeme Souness as manager in 1986.

But while the attitudes of the Rangers support were unchanging, Celtic supporters' refusal to accept their cowed status spoke of a more upwardly mobile nature than the 'tattie-munchers' their rivals liked to characterise them as.

Better educated, more successful and having thoroughly penetrated the professional classes in a way their predecessors were unable, or not allowed to do, Celtic supporters, led by businessmen like Fergus McCann (an expat Scots-Canadian millionaire) seized control of their dying club in 1994.

The revolution that overthrew the club's century old cabal of families and effectively drives it to this day, was as ruthlessly ambitious as anything Castro and Guevara could have dreamed of. Indeed, coupled with the market-savvy shrewdness which wrested control of the crucial shares in '94, was a populist, car-park picketing, Bolshie element - a hangover from Glasgow's very recent industrial might - that provided much of the initial momentum.

But the forces that have steered the club today are, ironically, of the blue chip variety. Careful stewardship of the club's financial affairs in the precarious marketplace of Scottish football has allowed the club to reflect the sense of fiscal strength that their cross-town foes once embodied.

The messianic presence of Martin O'Neill helped no end, of course, and Gordon Strachan's careful reconstruction of the club's footballing affairs has already borne fruit with a Champions League last 16 tie with AC Milan to look forward to. But undoubtedly at the heart of Celtic's rise has been an utterly reconstituted ethos from within the club.

Meanwhile, Rangers are stumbling through the sort of financial penury and on-field embarrassment that Celtic once patented as their own.

The ferocious grief expressed by many of the Rangers supporters gathered outside Fir Park on Tuesday was as much the shock and anger at the continuing loss of that which they had presumed a birthright, as the registration of their opinions on Le Guen's banishment of Ferguson.

Champions League Sweet Sixteen

Podgy Swiss fingers were put to their best use other than the consumption of stacks of luxury handmade chocolates today as the Champions League second round (or last 16, if you wish to make it sound more exclusive) draw was made.

As is the norm when plastic balls are plucked from erstwhile goldfish bowls, some protagonists fare better than others. For every club exec chuckling with confidence during the post-draw canapés, there is another suit bawling in the corner, crying "Why??!"

On the face of it, Liverpool secretary Bryce Morrison, representing the 2005 champions in Nyon today, would be the inconsolable wretch, seeing as his club was paired with Barcelona. With admirable optimism, however, he refused to be cowed by the prospect of playing last season's free-flowing champions.

"We hope we can go all the way once again, starting with this big one!" quoth he, presumably too woozy from the complimentary wine to conjure the image of Ronaldinho slithering past a statuesque Sami Hyypia.

Whereas the Pool were ill-rewarded for their group-topping feats, the other English teams got the spawny draws one might expect from being seeded. As if to continue the theme of retribution for last year, Manchester United, having exacted revenge on Benfica in the group stage, will now get an opportunity to pay back Lille for defeating them at the Stade de France in the 2006-06 competition.

As with their superiority over Benfica, United have come on more than enough since losing to the French to go through comfortably.

Arsenal will undoubtedly make heavy work of PSV Eindhoven, but should also progress. The return of Jose Mourinho to Porto will provide what is generally dubbed "spice" to their tie, but the bold Jose is well used to whistles and boos - and his team will have little trouble there.

While all over Milan, impeccably shod and coiffed folks may have been rattling their improbably tiny coffee cups in pleasure at their team's draw against Celtic (arguably the weakest of the second seeds on paper); the corresponding celebratory clank of Tennents Special Export cans in the East End of Glasgow might also have been heard.

Milan are in what is known as a 'period of transition', which is a euphemism for being rubbish. Even without their 8 point deduction for match-fixing naughtiness, the Rossoneri would only have been in fifth in Serie A, rather than the 15th place in which they now languish. The loss of Shevchenko's goals has not been properly addressed, their three main strikers - Alberto Gilardino, Filippo Inzaghi and Ricardo Oliveira - only managing four league goals between them. Meanwhile Paolo Maldini and Cafu continue to wearily police the defence, and the team is generally over reliant on Kaka's creativity.

The other ties are rather tasty; perennial powerhouses Real Madrid and Bayern Munich meet, Valencia take on Inter and Roma face Lyon. Lyon are the team to tip these days when trying to show how shrewd a football judge you are, and it will be intriguing to see if they can finally reproduce in the latter stages their scintillating group stages form.

Its hard to see past old money, however: Barca, Real and Inter are still the front runners, with Chelsea the only new name that might get on the trophy.

Larsson Gets Chance For Happy Ending

It seemed such a shame at the time that Henrik Larsson’s last contribution on a major footballing stage would be that missed penalty in Sweden’s World Cup finals second round match against Germany. He was never much of a penalty taker even in his Celtic pomp, one of the few aspects of the striker’s art that he did not master; but it was a poor kick, a limp conclusion to a career at the top level that deserved rather to have as its final flourish his match-turning contribution from the bench for Barcelona in the Champions League final a few weeks earlier.

With due respect to Helsingborgs, the club in his homeland with whom he has spent the last few months, and to whom he will return in March for the beginning of the new Swedish season, it seems that Larsson will now add another unlikely chapter to the glorious twilight of his career when he signs, on loan, for Manchester United in January.

One can only presume that many clubs – including his last, Barcelona – wished to secure Larsson’s services at the end of last season. The sapping of pace from his legs through the advancement of years seemed to be progressing in an inversely proportionate manner to the cultivation of a footballing intelligence that no top manager can have missed. Whether Alex Ferguson was among those managers inquiring as to whether he could obtain the Swede’s services last summer we do not know, but the snapping up of Larsson could prove to be a crucial piece of business for the club.

Even so gilded a team as Barcelona were visibly boosted by his introductions last season. In the Champions League tie against Chelsea at Stamford Bridge, the Catalans, despite being a man up, had begun to toil against the formidable Blues rearguard. Repeated probings by Ronaldinho and co. had failed to pierce the Chelsea rearguard, until Larsson entered the fray. His exploitation of space in the inside-left channel, particularly in the run-up to Eto’o’s winner, helped Barca come from behind to win 2-1.

In the Champions League final, in an almost identical situation, Larsson’s impact was unmistakeable. Firstly guiding a Deco ball through to Eto’o for the equaliser, then turning at the goal-line and rolling an immaculate pass to Belletti to score the winner. Little wonder that despite only being at the club for two seasons, and having spent much of the first injured, Larsson left Barca as something of a cult hero.

Those who have followed Larsson throughout his career, or at least since his arrival at Celtic in 1997, will have become familiar with the man’s admirable character, exemplified once again in his refusal to abandon his commitment to Helsingborgs, both at the end of last season and in the stated intention to return to the Swedish club for the beginning of their season in March. Whether in his recovery from a horrific leg-break at Celtic, or in his decision to spurn offers to leave the Glasgow club at the peak of his career because of his emotional attachment to them and his family’s happiness in Scotland, he has consistently come across as being a footballer of rare emotional intelligence and perspective.

United’s surprise manouevre has little to do with emotional intelligence however; Alex Ferguson will be looking to bolster his youthful forward line with Larsson’s experience and nous at a time of the season when he hopes his team will be reaching full gallop in the title race. Will Larsson do for this United side what Eric Cantona did in the 1992-93 season?

Now that would be a fitting end to his career.

Celtic's Artful Dodging of United

We mentioned the word 'magic' yesterday in looking ahead to the remarkable events at Parkhead last night. There was no great insight there: for European nights at Parkhead, incredible events and the powerful, hypnotic force of the home support are de rigeur. But, after he had watched three Champions League points disappear with the flick of the magic wand that is Shunsuke Nakamura's left foot, Sir Alex Ferguson had about him that irritated and perplexed look of a man who couldn't quite believe his eyes.

Celtic's progression to the knockout stages is no illusion, however. Manchester United were indeed stripped of the win - or at the very least, the satisfactory draw - that they assumed was in their possession. The losing side, though, would, I'm sure, find the metaphor of magician for Gordon Strachan and his team unsatisfactory: United would probably prefer that of 'common thief'.

True United controlled most of the possession, had a couple of incorrect offside calls against them, were unfortunate with the concession of the crucial free-kick (United fans would use stronger terms than 'unfortunate', however after Ryan Giggs' penalty winning plummet during the first game, some parity can be said to have been achieved there) and missed a late penalty.

The English league leaders were markedly superior on the face of things - as they should be given the relative differences in transfer budgets between the two clubs. Not that Gordon Strachan would have exchanged, say, £18.6m Michael Carrick for £2m-odd worth of Nakamura last night. But Celtic - on the old-fashioned European home and away basis - have triumphed over United in this group. If not magic, then what?

The term that was doing the rounds of Celtic message boards last night - even during the fraught first half - was 'rope-a-dope'. The term made famous in the legendary 1974 'Rumble in the Jungle', in which Muhammad Ali defeated George Foreman through the absorption of seemingly interminable punishment before unleashing an astonishing knock-out blow late on, is incredibly apt for the events of last night.

Ali adopted the tactics because of Foreman's superior punching power: to have brawled toe-to-toe with the champion would have been suicidal for him. Similarly, Celtic took on a fighter last night with an infinitely superior array of punches, and one that would have left the home side on the floor in a bloody mess had they attempted to take them on in open combat.

Celtic fans, puzzled by Gordon Strachan's stolid midfield selection of Lennon, Gravesen and Sno alongside Nakamura, leaving the fleet-feet of Maloney and McGeady on the bench, watched the first half through gaps in their fingers, as United jabbed and toyed with their quarry. But United didn't have the big shot, the killer blow, or, at least, they could not get a sufficient view of the target to land it.

Like in Zaire in 1974, when Ali roused himself in the eight round to deliver a winning combination almost poetically sweet in its execution, Celtic's winning shot was sheer beauty. No doubt being viewed until worn today by Celtic supporters, the perfection of Nakamura's free-kick's trajectory bears countless repeats.

Strachan did not give himself full marks for his tactical set-up; rather he awarded 'five out of ten', due to the torridness of the first half. But while Celtic, tactics aside, undoubtedly played poorly in the first half, the manager's overall scheme proved a success.

Entering the game, Strachan will have been aware that a draw would be a useful result, sending his team to a probably eliminated Copenhagen still with a good chance of qualification. A defeat, however, would have been unbearable. Celtic would still have a chance of qualifying, but the sense that that prize was slipping inexorably out of their grasp would have been palpable; and given the club's woeful track record on their Champions League travels, the achievement of a win in Copenhagen would have been a considerable challenge.

Strachan therefore gambled on his team's character, their fortitude and their discipline. And it payed off.

For United, the loss - as with almost every English team's loss to Scottish opponents down through European football history - was a failure of will and character and a triumph of complacency and misplaced arrogance. The superior Premiership side failed to translate that fact into a victory, a football fundamental bemoaned by Ferguson after the game, and lacked the character to capitalise on their late reprieve. As has been angrily pointed out by United fans this morning, if captain Gary Neville was aware that Louis Saha's nerve was wrecked in the hostile atmosphere, then why was the Frenchman allowed to take the penalty kick?

The same complacency - not evident in their manager's selection, mind you - that did for them in Copenhagen now leaves them open to elimination after being in what seemed like an unassailable position. A few weeks ago we looked at how United had replaced Roy Keane in footballing terms, quite successfully on the face of it. They quite clearly haven't replaced him in the key sphere in which the spirit and soul of the team resides.

For Celtic, the outwitting of their rivals was a theft of kinds: but, as any professional criminal will tell you, the perfect crime requires planning, skill and no little nerve. Celtic will enjoy this booty for some time.

Night of Magic Ahead in Glasgow

Ordinarily the players of Manchester United wouldn’t be particularly engaged about the prospect of a midwinter Champions League group stage trip to the one of Europe’s footballing backwaters, even less so one that takes place in the days preceding what seems certain to be the first truly material Premiership giant-battle in some seasons.

But such is the singular magic of a European night at Parkhead that concerns about the impending hostilities with Chelsea will be, for ninety minutes at least, edged a little aside.

True, had Alex Ferguson approached the previous group stage match in Copenhagen with a similar focus, and got the positive result that would have ensured United’s qualification from Group F, he would undoubtedly have spared Celtic many more of his front liners than he plans to do this evening.

That said, any professional player would be enthused about playing in what is a now-fabled atmosphere on such nights. Should the match itself follow a similar pattern as the first group stage game, a thrilling encounter which United won 3-2, then the very roof of the East End amphitheatre is likely to lift off such would be the voltage in galleries.

Is it reasonable to expect that tonight’s contest will be as well-contested as its predecessor at Old Trafford (although United missed many chances that evening, they were gifted their three goals through Celtic errors)?

Since that game United have been on an upward trajectory which seems, at this admittedly early point, to be presenting England with its first genuine Championship race in four seasons. Not only that, but after much soul-searching about how to compete in the post-Abramovich environment, United have achieved their current state of rejuvenation in a manner that seems uncomplicatedly synonymous with the buccaneering style which brought them to their late 90s apotheosis.

With Nemanja Vidic helping to stiffen a defensive vulnerability which allowed Celtic to give them such a fright in the earlier game, the main thrust of United’s good form as been, well, their thrust. Their most potent artillery has been firing with blistering force: Saha, Ronaldo, Giggs, Rooney and Scholes - the muse for their recent creativity - have all been in rare synergy of late.
Celtic themselves took flight after the last meeting of the sides, particularly in fine, flowing victories over Rangers in the league, and Copenhagen and Benfica at home in the Champions League.

But the force of the defeat Gordon Strachan’s side suffered in Portugal, 3-0 at the hands of Benfica, seemed to knock a fair puff out of Celtic, knocking back their confidence and scuppering the élan they had been hitherto displaying in their play.

They have battled their way to consecutive victories in the league, however, and although this season’s challenge from the rest in Scotland had been typically non-vintage, deserve credit for the redoubt ability they have demonstrated since that harrowing experience in Lisbon: particularly in the late, come-from-behind victory over Hearts.

Importantly, and a fact that was often ignored in the critical reaction to the Benfica defeat, Celtic now have Jan Vennegoor of Hesselink and Thomas Gravesen - two players who missed the loss and the two of Celtic’s summer signings whose recruitment was most with evenings like that in mind - back from injury. The experience and character of the Dutchman and the Dane were markedly missed in Lisbon and, if ever two players’ returns from injury were well timed, it is now for Celtic with these two. Indeed, the fact that both have had a couple of league games to run themselves into fitness is also ideal.

In talking about timing, one scrap of encouragement for Celtic is that the least impressive of United’s recent run of victories was the last one: Saturday’s defeat of Sheffield United. But before excessive hope is derived from that fact, the sight of Wayne Rooney’s continuing escalation to his full powers should be considered.

Certainly, both teams have improved in the month’s since they first met this season. On the face of it, however, it would take the strongest incarnation of the Parkhead crowd’s preternatural assistance to elevate the home team past their high-flying opponents.

That such an occurence is a possibility is why the fixture carries such interest for protagonists and supporters alike.