Random thoughts, cheap shots, and bon mots: Sunday morning edition

So I’m up early on a Sunday morning to watch another Scottish Premiership game — Aberdeen, of course, because Celtic’s now-precarious road to 10-in-a-row now runs through the help of our friends (and enemies) — and with a week of interesting Celtic news behind us, it’s about time to process some of that.

Like . . .

Time to get Damien Duff back to where he belongs — on the sidelines for Celtic.

Get back to where you once belonged

Now that the Damien Duff era is over in Dublin, after stepping down as an assistant coach for the Republic of Ireland team last week, there can only be one destination for him now.

A return to his place on the bench at Celtic.

This really is a no-brainer. Move Gavin Strachan to another position in the club and let Duff take his place back on the sidelines. Clearly his coaching abilities are part and parcel of Celtic’s success in recent seasons, and it could be one of the necessary steps to rescue what up until now has been a supbar season.

[And apologies to anyone who gets a Beatles earworm for that headline . . .]

Jonathan Afolabi, a Celtic loanee playing for Dundee FC, received racist abuse after a match against Bonnyrigg Rose.

Give racism the red card

It’s sad that I even have to waste pixels writing that headline, but apparently some haven’t read the memo. Celtic loanee Jonathan Afolabi was the target of racial abuse in the aftermath of Dundee FC’s 3-2 victory over Bonnyrigg Rose in their Scottish Cup Second Round match, where Afolabi scored a late equalizer for The Dee before they went on to victory in overtime.

My Celtic Star colleage Lubo98 outlines the story clearly in this post on the Star. In addition, Dundee FC produced a strong statement opposing the treatment of Afolabi, and points to another incident after Dundee played Hearts after a previous match.

This shouldn’t have to be mentioned, yet it bears repeating: There’s no place for racism in football. Full stop.

Signs of the times

One of the more interesting aspects of the social media cesspool known as Twitter is that it can be used for good; and if not for good, at least for educational purposes. Witness one Celtic fan on Twitter who goes by the handle LouMun 67, who is deaf and has taken the time to post short videos on Twitter of different sign-language signs for words and phrases that would be helpful to Celtic fans.

For example, COYBIG. Or Celtic. Or even Glasgow’s other club (which I would have thought was this, at least in American Sign Language, but OK).

Give a follow to this young Celtic fan, and thank you, LouMun 67, for posting the signs. We need to know more. Keep up the great work!

Dear Celtic TV . . .

Long-time readers of this blog — hi, Mom! — know that I often sing the praises of Celtic TV, many times in tw0-part harmony with overdubs. For all its quirks (Exhibit A: Tom Boyd — and I mean that as a compliment), Celtic TV provides a great service to Celtic fans worldwide. Because I really enjoy the game coverage and the commentary, I don’t mind ponying up around $30 a month to support their broadcasts and, in turn, Celtic itself.

But for some of us in the States, their payment system — WorldPay — is problematic, in the least, and impossible at best. It’s compounded by the fact that any autopay is, from time to time, “stopped at the border” in my case. Checking with my bank, it’s not them, and the process to “fix” this is to start a new Celtic TV account. You might say, “Well, Lar, why don’t you just bite the bullet and pay the annual fee?” A good question, and the answer is simple: It’s waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay out of my limited budget for a one-shot payment in that amount.

So three Celtic TV accounts later, it appears that I have reached the end of the line, because all attempts at WorldPay have failed. The alternative is a subscription to ESPN+, which provides a plethora of matches (as well as other sports) for around $6 a month. Despite the price — and I know ESPN can do this cheaply because of their broad subscription base coupled by whatever deal they make with broadcasters (SkySports: You get what you pay for . . . sheesh!) — I would still prefer going with Celtic TV, if for no other reason than to support the club.

So, Celtic TV, I would gladly come back if PayPal were an option, or any other system that would make monthly payments easier. If it’s an issue of PayPal’s cost, I’d gladly pay an increase in the monthly fee factored in to compensate for your trouble in using this U.S.-friendly service.

Your call, folks. Oh, and you need to put Kelly Clark back on the commentary team . . . .

One more thing

Two actually: A special mention should go out to The Celtic Star article by the editor’s cousin regarding two heroic figures — both of them heroic to me as well — Brother Walfrid and Paul Robeson. Many Celtic fans know by heart the story of the former, but the article outlines some interesting facts about the latter. It’s worth a read.

Then, of course, it’s Hibs tomorrow, and a must win for us, as they all are from here on in. While I will make one last vainglorious attempt to get back on Celtic TV — and by the way, going up to Millbrae to watch the game with the San Francisco CSC cannot return to its regularly scheduled meeting soon enough — I have to say clearly and emphatically, Mon the Hoops.

Moment to moment

Brown 90+2 — This speaks volumes.

Breathe.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Whew.

After today’s game with Hamilton Accies, I am going to forgo the usual “five takeaways,” because there is really only one. And while I will always suggest taking a look at The Sandman’s ratings on The Celtic Star, there is really only one thing (well, two actually) to say about today’s game.

Scott Brown: Captain. Leader. Legend. Demigod.

That really says it all.

Well, that and for a minute and 37 seconds, The Rangers™ had thought they had continued to keep pace with Celtic when Hamilton equalized right around the 90-minute mark. That was erased after Brown, off his left foot, scored the go-ahead goal.

The bus ride back from Aberdeen to Glasgow for The Rangers™ fans was probably a very somber one.

I wish to God I had sounded more coherent when the ball hit the net, because all I could do when I jumped out of my chair was just scream, “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Broo0000000000000000000000000ny!” All the while running around the living room, stopping only to do The Broony™ after standing on the coffee table.

But it does makes one think about how special this club is, and how perhaps forces beyond this realm are guiding the club in the right direction. Today’s “intervention” — for lack of a better term — rivals last seasons’s Billy McNeill game against Kilmarnock, where Jozo Simunovic — number 5 — scored in the 67th minute of the game.

Some are calling this a “Scott Brown won the league at Celtic Park” moment, as this article in The Celtic Star outlines, and they are not far off. Realistically, there is a lot more football to be played between now and the end of the season, but if this game is any indication, we are in good hands.

On to Sunday and the Betfred Cup.

A Takeaway from Aberdeen-Celtic

No truer words were spoken: The hosts at Aberdeen got a high-pressure pumping by the Celts on Sunday, as the Bhoys in Green cruised to a 4-0 victory at Pittodrie.

First things first: My apologies for this late post. Thanks to the power company Pacific Gas & Electric, which had turned off the power in my area “for my safety” on Saturday night (turning it back on again last night), I had to scramble to find a place with power and Internet connectivity on Sunday to watch the Aberdeen-Celtic game.

At 5 a.m.

A shout out to the Satellite Felton workspace, located at the traffic light (Felton only has one, two if you count the one on Graham Hill Road and Mount Hermon — and the former road is named after the actual hill here, not the British Formula 1 driver of the same name), which had both power and connectivity.

Thanks to the modern miracle that is Celtic TV — I am completely serious — I re-watched the game finally this afternoon; the game that I came in late on early Sunday morning. It was as awesome as it was on Sunday morning, but a second look at the game led me to notice something really awe inspiring.

It wasn’t Jeremie Frimpong’s goal, though it was great to see the lad score his first for the Celts, and to see how well the talented young lad is fitting in with the club. He’s definitely a keeper.

It wasn’t the fact that Celtic dominated the game from start to finish. That’s always a welcome sight, no matter who the opponent is. And, of course, thrashing some opponents is better than thrashing others.

But I wanted to go back to the first half, at around the 17-minute mark, where Celtic ended up passing the ball 46 times, by my count, before ending up with a corner. This was not the “death of a thousand passes” that was so loved by the former manager, now at Leicester City. Under the former manager, where 46 passes might — might — have gotten the ball to midfield.

This was pure ball-handling artistry — a game of keep-away that was frustrating Aberdeen — which I hope Celtic will continue during the course of the season. Add to this the 14-pass sequence before James Forrest’s goal — started after a sixth pass was intercepted by an Aberdeen player and his first pass was picked off by Frimpong to start the sequence — and you have a ball-control nirvana that any team would die for.

Also, it was great to see Kris Ajer and Christoper Jullien playing up. Ajer and Scott Brown literally had acres of space to run during the course of the game, and both took advantage of it, while Aberdeen hunkered down in defense in their own side of the pitch.

It’s play like this that make me proud to be a Celtic fan, even if I have to get up before sunrise and, in Sunday’s case, scramble for a place to watch.

Mon the hoops!

Obligatory match report: If you’re not on Celtic Noise talking about all things Celtic, you should be there. Right now. One bonus is the match rundowns from the celebrated Sandman, which are first posted on Celtic Noise, you can find on The Celtic Star here.

Now it’s on to St. Mirren tomorrow at Parkhead. Keep it up, bhoys!