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?

This One Could Go All The Way

A few weeks ago we brought up the fact that Milan's drive to avenge the horror of their Istanbul experience could prove the deciding factor in this evening's Champions League Final rematch against Liverpool (and it is that, a rematch, Steven Gerrard's autobiographical musings have got sufficiently up Rino Gattuso's nose to guarantee that much).

The only thing that could save Liverpool, we felt, would be a pronouncement of sublime arrogance from Silvio Berlusconi. There's a good megalomaniacal media mogul! Didn't he oblige? "Milan will win in Athens, we will succeed because we have a superior class than our opponents," said the man with the thickest weave this side of Magee's of Donegal.

"Since Milan have already beaten Manchester during the season and Manchester having beaten Liverpool, the football rule wants that now Milan beats the same Liverpool," added Berlusconi, adapting the rules of conkers to those of association football.

Moving from the deep tan of Berlusconi to the deep purple of Alex Ferguson, and we find more fuelling words for the Liverpool fire. "I told Carlo [Ancelotti] at the end of our semi-final that there is no way he can now not win this competition," said Ferguson.

"Carlo gave me a magnificent bottle of wine. But I immediately told him there is no point in giving such a wonderful gift if he then fails in the final. In fact, I told him I would only drink his wine once I see him lifting the Champions Cup." Looks like Fergie still enjoys seeing Liverpool being knocked off their f#cking perch.

Of course, these two mild-mannered gents are not the only ones who see no other outcome than a seventh European title for the Rossoneri. Football teams are, it seems, only as good as their last game, and many seem happy to accept that the wonderful Milan performance in their semi-final second leg victory is the definitive proof of their superiority. Few care to remember, it seems, the toiling outfit of most of this season. Most have easily forgotten the side that only eked past Celtic by a solitary Kaka intervention after 210 minutes of football.

Plenty have transformed their workmanlike disposal of Bayern Munich (the fourth best team in the dowdy old Bundesliga, remember) into a masterclass it was not. And far too many have discounted the role of a jaded, strangely lacklustre and tactically inept Manchester United in providing Milan the stage in which to dazzle at the San Siro three weeks ago.

Surprising are the number of those who neglect to consider Rafael Benitez organisational abilities, and his absolute aversion to allowing his teams to be open to the lacerating thrusts of fluid attacking teams. Indeed probably the only time one of Benitez's Liverpool sides have been pierced at will was on that very evening in Istanbul that made him an Anfield legend.

In swooning at the combination of guile and grime that the Milan midfield possess, a substantial amount of observers are unwilling to consider that it is in this very area in which Liverpool's own greatest strength resides; that, in Javier Mascherano, they have the man for the job of plugging that hole from which Kaka springs so dangerously.

What I'm trying to say is that, despite what Berlusconi and Ferguson feel, it is simply not true that Milan are a fundamentally better side. In fact, in reality, there is little to separate these two teams.

And I'll go further: there's much to suggest that they will cancel each other out. And you know what that means. "That’s why we lost, you know," Berlusconi also said recently ahead of this evening's match. "The goalkeeper was trying to disturb our players’ concentration. This time we’ll be practising penalties against moving goalkeepers."

You better had, Silvio, you better had.

Milan's Vengeance Is Liverpool's Danger

And so it has come to pass. The Champions League final brings us Chelsea and Manchester United, the two great forces currently in Engl....ehhh...Manchester United and Liverpool, the two greatest names in the history of Engl...huh? Oh, right...Liverpool and... AC Milan? Ok then...ah yes! Revenge for Istanbul, the Playback of the Comeback...ah, it'll do.

So plucky little Milan have battled their way amongst the English giants to grab a chance of glory, their up-and-at-'em Crazy Gang spirit carrying them all the way from the backwaters of Serie A to a place among Europe's big boys. See how they battle, the lovable rogue Gattuso, the heart-on-his-sleeve Nesta, the doe-eyed Kaka; what a story!

Okay, stop being a smart-arse. In the hours after Liverpool's victory over Chelsea on Tuesday night, the thought occurred about how little of the pre-semi-final ruminations and hypotheses took much notice of the strong chance of a Liverpool-Milan final, and the reprise of That Night In Istanbul Which Your Liverpool-Supporting Friends Can Work Into Any Conversation, Like, For Example, One About Your Favourite Sandwich, Which Would Go "Oh Yes Ham And Cheese, I Had One Of Those The Night Of The 2005 Champions League Final".

Obviously the nuclear cloud of hype surrounding the fact that three English sides were at the semi-final stage obliterated most reasoned consideration of much else (there's been a General Election called here you know. Yeah really. Bertie supports United doesn't he....you see how it works?).

Now that all other permutations are discounted, however, we can actually look at Liverpool v Milan, the 2007 version, and how it will be affected by That Night In Istanbul Which Your Liverpool-Supporting Friends Can Work Into Any Conversation, Like, For Example, One About Your Favourite Chocolate Bar, Which Would Go "Oh Yes Turkish Delight, That's What Liverpool Experienced After That Incredible Night In Istanbul".

Funniest thing - I heard a Liverpool supporter remark this morning that "he wouldn't mind losing to Milan." Now to say that sentence in the way he meant it, you must put the stress on the mind rather than the losing, and also place it in the context of making a comparison with the now-averted possibility of losing in the final to Manchester United (an occurence which would, of course, have led to a mass fleeing of Kopites in the direction of remote hermitages).

But still, where does the balance of motivation lie here? Milan, humiliated in 2005, can be personified by the rich, powerful man whose beautiful wife absconded with the gardener. Presented with the opportunity of visiting revenge on the randy horticulturalist, they can be forgiven for reaching for the pliers.

Liverpool have no such psychological fuel to burn in Athens on May 23rd. Indeed, subconsciously, if presented with the scenario in the previous paragraph, they might find themselves unzipping graciously.

This is not to suggest that Liverpool pilfered the coveted trophy on That Night In Istanbul Which etc., etc.,. On the contrary, although Milan left the windows open and the door unlocked, it wasn't burglary when Liverpool made off with the family silver, m'lud. Liverpool's comeback belongs to the ages because of the tactical adjustments made by their manager, the seizing of the moment by their captain and the rare presence of sport's magic spirits that evening.

All the same, you wouldn't be properly reared if you didn't feel a little guilty about what Milan endured two years ago, the magnitude of which you can calculate by simply inverting the joy Liverpool and their supporters experienced. Eeeek. So could Istanbul-guilt be Liverpool's downfall come Three Weeks Time In Athens?

Clearly Liverpool need to mine a new seam of motivational inspiration, like the abundant source that Jose Mourinho's disdain provided. What they need is some ill-timed, intemperate words from someone within the Milan camp.

Over to you Silvio...

Moments of Truth

Most of the season is about opinions. This time of the year is about truths. Two years ago Steven Gerrard's perception that he would have to leave Liverpool in order to win major trophies was altered by the truth of their Champions League triumph. Earlier this term, Jose Mourinho's boss reckoned his manager was not the man to bring him that same trophy; over the next few weeks, beginning last night, he too will see the truth emerge, whatever that may be.

Tom Hicks and George Gillett, Liverpool's new owners, will have received a bracing dose of reality also. If they understood what they saw, or at least were properly briefed on what they were watching, they will have seen the true nature of their job. Of course, a glance at the league table could tell them about the gap between their new investment and Roman Abramovich's four-year-old one.

Sometimes, however, the hard facts of the league table get sidelined in favour of the cock-eyed hokum of optimism. Liverpool fans could, of course, point to the semi-final of 2005 to back up their team's chances. But the law of averages suggests that a team whose strike-force cost £54 million will generally prevail over one which paid £15 million for their front two.

Yes, truths are established at this time of year. It might become a truth, in a week's time, that Anfield's special European atmosphere, Rafa Benitez's tactical acumen or Steven Gerrard's virtuosity are powerful enough to redress the fact of Chelsea's financial strength and Joe Cole's single goal advantage.

But all too true for Liverpool supporters last night was the fact that Boudewijn Zenden, a mediocrity unwanted by Chelsea even in the pre-Abramovich, pre-Mourinho days, was the wasteful endpoint of much of their attacking ambitions in a Champions League semi-final. Unavoidably factual were Alvaro Arbeloa's limitations at full-back, both defensively and in constructive play. Plain as the nose on your face was the difference between Chelsea's awesome juggernaut in attack, Didier Drogba, and the honest toil of Liverpool's Dirk Kuyt.

There is an old football expression about on-field bad times: All your best players are sitting in the stand. It is used by exasperated fans convinced that the kids and journeymen on the bench must be the answer to their current plight.

Looking at the Liverpool bench, anyone castigating Rafa Benitez's selections would have been halted mid-expletive. Who would have been the better option than the woeful Zenden? Marc Gonzalez, the callow winger? Jermaine Pennant, the wastrel? Did hopeful balls directed toward a clambering Peter Crouch really represent an improvement for Liverpool when the big striker came on for Craig Bellamy.

Taking a goal lead to Anfield, having not conceded an away score, bringing back Michael Essien and looking right back to their solid, formidable best, it's hard not to see Chelsea completing the job next Tuesday. For all the ferocious backing that Liverpool will receive from their supporters, there remains a shortfall of true quality in their team, especially when presented with the challenge of beating a team with plenty of it.

Their owner's will be well aware of the need to redress that. Chelsea's owner, meanwhile, might just have to change his mind about his manager. After all, the truth will out.

Interestingly Enough, There Is Some History Between These Sides You Know...

Presumably Jose Mourinho watches this clip after coming in from the pub of a night.

"Let it go Jose," says Mrs.Mourinho.

"Was not goal! Was not goal!"

Was penalty and sending off?

England Rules the Waves Once More

Nearly fifteen years after the establishment of both the Premiership and the Champions League, it seems, at last, that England's top clubs have achieved the supremacy that their league's marketers have long claimed to be the case.

Until Liverpool reached the 2005 final of Europe's premier club tournament, Manchester United's success in 1999 stood alone as almost a curiosity, and as a damning indictment of English clubs' failure to translate swagger and hype into real continental eminence.

Now, with at least one English team almost certain to be in this season's Champions League finale, and the strong possibility of two Premiership clubs lining out in the Olympic Stadium in Athens on May 23rd, English football looks to be returning to pre-Heysel levels of European dominance.

Manchester United's approach to what was a classically tricky second leg dilemma involved a high-stake risk/reward calculation. The policy of blitzkrieg that overwhelmed Roma before the 20th minute had been reached was undoubtedly a case of United playing supremely to their greatest strengths; but had Roma not yielded so soon and United burned up the jet fuel of their initial sorties, and had one of those long shots from Totti, Mexes or De Rossi found the net rather than fizzing perilously past Edwin van der Saar's right-hand post, United would have had an infinitely more challenging evening on their hands.

As it was, Roma wilted almost immediately in the heat of the sheer collective will of the home side's performance. United stretched the Italians all over the field, running from wide and deep, finding oceans of space where normally an Italian side playing away in Europe will present only an unbreachable dam.

When Roma had the ball, the desire of the United players to rid them of it was almost frenzied. From the unvaunted likes of Darren Fletcher (whose energetic fetch-and-give display put one in mind of Owen Hargreaves, whom United are likely to go to great expense to recruit in the summer) and Alan Smith, to Rooney and Ronaldo themselves, there was a combination of almost manic enthusiasm and ruthless precision to their play that was as breathtaking as anything Old Trafford has seen at anytime in Alex Ferguson's reign.

To Valencia, and another English team irresistibly enforcing their game on cowed European opponents. Chelsea may only have sealed the tie in the 90th minute of normal time, but Michael Essien's winner only confirmed on the scoreboard a supremacy which few must ever have enjoyed at the Mestalla.

Where United had deployed in excelsis their optimum attributes of pace and movement, Chelsea too had their best assets on show: an overwhelming combination of power and strength, made flesh through superhuman fitness levels. The Ghanaian's winner encapsulated Chelsea's method: the shot simply tore past Canizares in the Valencia goal in a manner that would have made attempting to stop it seem like puny impertinence.

Between, roughly, the Battle of Waterloo in 1815 and the rise of the new German and American states in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the world existed in what was referred to as a 'Pax Brittanica'. Britain's military, imperial and commercial strength dominated global affairs, British values and standards were promulgated and her pre-eminence was clear.

It seems, with the Premiership television revenues set to continue enriching England's football clubs as colonial profits once did Britain's imperial centre, that we may be embarking on a footballing 'Pax Anglica'.

The Other Super 8: Champions League Quarter Finals

PSV Eindhoven v Liverpool

AC Milan v Bayern Munich

Roma v Manchester United

Chelsea v Valencia

If the Champions League were a ouija board, and we rapt onlookers were slumber partying teenagers, then it might seem as if Dark Lord is guiding the upturned shot glass to spell out 'L-I-V-E-R-P-O-O-L', that is until the girl in the Manchester United pyjamas whimpers "I don't want to do this anymore"...

Certainly the omens are good for the Reds: they've drawn PSV Eindhoven, the weakest side remaining in the tournament, and one that they have already met and beaten in the group stages; they play the second leg at Anfield; judging by Saturday's demolition of Arsenal, they appear to have come out of the international break in fine fettle; their opponents are in the midst of a domestic slump and are missing their most influential player (the Brazilian defender Alex).

Old Lucifer might have a point here. Surely PSV can't finagle their way past another superior team through defensive sturdiness and a couple of moments of opportunism? Still, Liverpool will remember their exit to Benfica in last season's competition and will want to bring a result back from the Philipsstadion. And who's that, communicating from the other side....is that you Arsene...what's he saying? B-E-W-A-R-E P-S-V......

From petrified teenagers to greying patricians: AC Milan and Bayern Munich are, of course, super-colossi of European football, jangling 10 Champions League and European Cups (as your Daddy used to call it) in their pockets between them. But the relative ordinariness the current incarnations of these two and the likes of Real Madrid (vanquished by Bayern in the last round) is stated as proof of the non-vintage status of this season's tournament.

Certainly Milan's last 16 victory over Celtic, in which they managed a single goal in 210 minutes, did not evoke the glories of the Rossoneri's past, and the sight of Bayern languishing fourth in the Bundesliga is a very rare one indeed in the normal run of German football.

Although a victory over league leaders Schalke 04 at the weekend should put some pep in the Bayern step, Milan should be fancied here for the tournament savviness that has seen them reach the quarter-finals for the fifth time in-a-row, for the fact that they clobbered Bayern 5-2 on aggregate in last year's round of 16, and for the loss to the Bavarians of Oliver Kahn through suspension.

To Roma and Manchester United and the guiltless checking out of Totti. The bold Francesco has attracted all the attention in the run-up to this game, having, as he is, the season of his life in Serie A.

The key to Totti and Roma's success was the decision by new coach Luciano Spalletti (how very Italian this) to play without a centre-forward at all, instead playing the Roma fans' idol in a deeper-lying role, allowing the midfield triumvirate of Simone Perotta, Daniele de Rossi and the Brazilian Mancini - he of the astonishing quadruple-stepover goal in the win in Lyon last time out - to attack in support.

United will be feeling top of the world after the demolition of Blackburn at the weekend, but prior to the freewheeling second half display on Saturday they suffered what could turn out to be a fateful blow to their lofty season-end prospects: the injury to Nemanja Vidic.

The rock-solid Serbian's absence might be felt less tomorrow night, however, than against most domestic rivals. Alex Ferguson will already have been contemplating playing a 'marker' type defender on Totti, and the mobility of, perhaps, Wes Brown might suit.

United are missing a whole back four, however: Vidic, Gary Neville, Patrice Evra and Mikael Silvestre are all unavailable, and the Stadio Olimpico is a bad place to go without your most trusted defensive troops. A clean-sheet will be United's aim; it might be Roma's too, who'll fancy repeating the trick they pulled on Lyon on United.

Chelsea probably drew the shortest straw of the English clubs by getting Valencia, but then the Spaniards will probably have felt the same themselves. Chelsea remain the most convincingly attired of the English clubs, and perhaps even of anyone left in the tournament. In the event of their procurement of a victory at Stamford Bridge tomorrow night, who would you rather send to bludgeon out an away result in Europe?

With that Shevchenko guy starting to look like that other Shevchenko guy who once graced this tournament with Dynamo Kiev and AC Milan, Salomon Kalou starting to look like a footballer and Joe Cole finally returning to the squad, they have reason to fancy the latter stages of the tournament that Jose Mourinho would, I believe, choose to win of the three that they remain in contention for.

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!

Champions League It's a Knockout - Part Two

This evening's contenders represent the juicier octet of this round's last sixteen, and, given the events of the last few days and weeks, Barcelona v Liverpool is of particular interest.

As recently as Sunday morning, it appeared that Liverpool had chanced upon an inconceivably good moment to take on the European champions; certainly the tie appeared more winnable than win the draw was made in November. The row involving Samuel Eto'o, Franck Rijkaard and Ronaldinho was divisive and probably went to the heart of the club, with Barca president Juan Laporta and vice-president Sandro Rosell (an Eto'o partisan) reportedly at odds also.

Despite the fact that they once again lead the Primera Liga, Barca have toiled this season in comparison with last, the injury enforced absence of Eto'o and Lionel Messi hampering their famed devastating attacking play. Eto'o's return from injury should have cheered them, instead the Cameroonian's jealousy toward Ronaldinho's special status leaves Barca looking shaken.

Not as shaken, however, as John Arne Riise must have been if the allegations concerning Craig Bellamy's prowess with a fairway wood are true. There has been much retraction and obfuscation since the revelations from Liverpool's training camp came out, but the picture presented is hardly one of ideal preparations for the test in the Camp Nou tonight.

Jose Mourinho's Chelsea are one of those teams (like AC Milan, perhaps) for whom the Champions League is all this season, completing as it would the Portuguese's record of winning league and Champions League in two different countries. They can expect a torrid test against an improving Porto, only now recovering from the post-Jose hangover. If the league looks like slipping away, Chelsea will focus even more strongly on Europe.

Inter Milan are the opposite. For them, the challenge of winning the league title outright - they received it by default following last season's match fixing scandal - is the central goal of this season. They look as if they are on their way to doing that, and a Valencia side coming off a win on Sunday night over Barcelona could take advantage of any lack of focus in this tie. Valencia still boast real quality in the much-coveted likes of David Villa, Joaquin and David Albelda, and 'El Raton' - Roberto Ayala - at the back, they could be last four material if any of the bigger guns take their eyes off the ball.

Lyon - the early front runners and much-fancied to finally make a Champions League breakthrough - have has a rough winter. They've struggled a little of late in the league (albeit they are still on course for yet another Ligue 1 title) and swapped John Carew for Milan Baros up front during the January window, hardly the transfer business of future European champions. Roma will provide just the test to reveal if Lyon have really progressed from the serial flatterers-to-deceive, Francesco Totti is having a good season for them as they toddle along in Inter's wake at home. Both of these sides look like they might have a quarter or a semi-final in them at a stretch, but probably little more.

Champions League Knockout Under Starters Orders - Part One

It could be you (if you're a European footballing superpower)! The Champions League heaves itself back into our attentions this evening, taking on the might of Desperate Housewives for televisual dominance, and this year it's a lottery. The likely winner of the 2006/07 tournament appears completely open, to the extent that UEFA may hire Dale Winton to present the trophy.

There are two main reasons for the lack of obvious winners ths year.

Firstly, most of the thoroughbreds are limping around the parade ring somewhat. Secondly, recent seasons have shown us (Porto and Monaco being finalists in 2003/04, Liverpool winning in 2004/05 and Villareal's incredible run to the semifinals last season) that there is value to be found in the outsiders.

An example of each of these contrasting steeds takes the field at Parkhead tonight, as discussed yesterday. However in this case the 100/1 shot (Celtic) is probably too far off the pace, and, despite having course and distance, the thoroughbred (AC Milan) is carrying too much weight.

(The horse metaphor will now be mercifully put down).

Similarly with the fixture which sees Manchester United take on one of their conquerors in last season's ignominious campaign, Lille.

The tiny French club didn't make it out of their group last year, but in going one better this year achieved arguably the performance of the round. That is, aside from the fact that they emerged from the Group of Dross, edging out serial group stage fodder Anderlecht and AEK Athens to follow Milan through.

You'd think United would be considered a raging hot favourite, given them being top of the greatest league in the world and all. But at some point (not in this round, where they will dispatch Lille like they were a gallic Watford) they will have to play a good team, a pesky irritation indeed, especially for the team that have won only once in four games against those closest to them in the league. Suspicions about their mettle remain.

PSV Eindhoven are wily campaigners, regulars in the latter stages and only failing to reach the final in 2005 on away goals against Milan. Arsenal should have their measure though, as they have done in previous group stage encounters.

The Gunners could be ones to watch again this year. Cesc Fabregas, the man who choreographed their run to the final last time is a year older and Gilberto Silva emerged as a real leader in Thierry Henry's absence earlier in the season. And will those couple of weeks off in November and December mean we'll see a fresh and ferocious Henry come spring?

And finally today (resurrecting the horse metaphor) there's Red Rum (Real Madrid) and Arkle (Bayern Munich). But are they destined for the winners enclosure or the glue factory?

A glance at their respective domestic league tables and behind the scenes of both behemoths shows them toiling badly. Both clubs are fourth, Bayern a massive 12 points behind Schalke and 5 precarious points from their customary Champions League berth. They have also just sacked their manager (Felix Magath).

In a far from vintage year in the Primera Liga Real Madrid are only four points behind leaders Barcelona, despite managing to lose seven games. They have been forced to deny rumours that manager Fabio Capello had offered his resignation following a string of dire results, and ignominy of ignominies, been forced to recall bloated lounge entertainer David Beckham to the team.

Given that Capello was supposed to put the 'real' into Real, and steel them from show ponies into classic winners, it looks rather like that their horse has bolted.

Wednesday night's eight nags and stallions tomorrow. And no more of the horse metaphor.

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.

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.