When you jam your hand in, say, a door and for a short time after it you are numb, coming to terms with what is going to be painful pretty much is analogous going into work on a Monday after the Sunday that saw Rangers beat Celtic. Disappointment is the chief feeling as you brace yourself to walk in and confront the Rangers fans dotted about your workplace.
Today I braced myself and…Nothing. Nobody said a thing and I was left wondering why. On the Friday before the Sunday of the game I gauged the mood of the majority of the Celtic supporting colleagues and friends I have. On the whole the mood was good, Rangers were on the ropes, the financial vultures were circling Ibrox and their former chief exec had managed to “arrest” the best part of £500k of their money. For the first time in my life Ranger’s jacket was on a shaky financial peg and administration, although small and barely recognisable, was still on the horizon although at present it seemed like a while before we’d get there.
All this feeling quite good put me in an uncomfortable place. The past 3 titles have went to Ibrox and for all that Celtic fans drink it in about our bigger squad, more comfortable financial position and more amiable relationship with the tax man, I could not help feeling that something was gravely amiss. I had watched a Celtic side without shape, purpose or guile capitulate to what can only be described as a 2nd rate Swiss team. We floundered against St. Johnstone and we were toothless against a La Liga team that seldom looked like getting out of 2nd gear.
Of the 3 league titles that have found their way to Ibrox the feeling I have gotten from the majority of our fans is that in some guise we have been robbed, that Rangers are down and out and we should have just swooped in to capitalise.
I am reminded of the humble approach of Martin O’Neill is his first season in charge. From the initial press conference where he was unveiled as Celtic manager, O’Neill held Rangers up as the shining example of how to win, time and time again saying they were the team to be beat and what we aspired to. 3 season into Rangers’ title dominance and I am only confronted with the opinion that it should be our name on the trophy and I have to struggle to find any Celtic fan who would honestly say that we are not good enough and have consistently been not good enough. Unless anyone has a better idea the league format remains the best way to ascertain over the course of a period of time who truly is the best team. Martin O’Neill’s brinksmanship is a past and distant memory, but one we should not forget in a hurry. There is nothing wrong with being humble; in fact it is one of the best ways to gain psychological edge.
Being humble in the presence of the League Champions is not what we’re after; we want to be in their faces and winning battles all round the park, dominating the play, but being humble before confronting them gives us the advantage. Football people, like us, get their information from the media and in many instances it is the manager who sets the tone. This is something we have to be smarter with. The arena upon which a game can be won is generally larger than the arena it can be watched in.
Yesterday we were played off the park and all the media coverage before the game gave the Rangers players nothing to other than bland talk to deal with. Aside from our deficiencies, abundant as they are this season, we have to take the game to Rangers off the park and we have to be clever.
We can point to Samaras’ start at Stokes’ expense or zonal marking or indeed a whole litany of seemingly meaningful reasons for our defeat and subsequent league failures, but the simple fact is that when you start off by believing your name should be on the trophy without a realistic assessment of your main rivals what can you expect?
Indeed this morning I am uncomfortably numb, but how many more times do our hands have to be jammed in the door before it sinks in that perhaps we have no divine right to win anything, even when it seems the fates are conspiring against our greatest foes.
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