Back in the saddle

Despite all the advances of modern medicine to date, there are few cures for a lengthy illness — and non-COVID, thankfully — that are more effective and healing than Celtic starting the season like they have so far with three convincing wins. Now that I’m well enough to stop laying in bed and studying the ceiling, not to mention that the timing is right now that the new season is already in gear, it’s time to get back on the blogging horse.

Every Celtic fan on the planet last Sunday was Jota after Carl Starfelt scored his first-ever goal for the Hoops against Kilmarnock.

Expecting the unexpected

There are things over the past several weeks that were inevitable: Sure, Jota was always going to sign — you don’t travel the world wearing the Hoops if you’re going to stay at Benfica or go elsewhere. Nailing down Cameron Carter-Vickers was another feather in the backroom staff’s cap. Adding Benjamin Siegrist was also a coup — to be honest, I never thought he’d agree to play behind Joe Hart, but here we are — and the additions of Alexandro Bernabei, Aaron Mooy, and Moritz Jenz round out the business end of things, despite rumors of one final move for Rubin Kazan’s Sead Haksabanovic.

The transfer window has had the usual suspects come and go, and most importantly and immediately on the table here is where Mikey Johnston will end up on loan. Ange Postecoglou knows there’s still a player there, who just needs some consistent playing time to get back to form, despite all the wailing and gnashing of teeth that accompanies Johnston’s play on social media.

But on the whole, business got done early for a change, planned and methodical this time, as opposed to the fire drills in the past, and all indications point to success.

Expectations are high. But Carl Starfelt’s goal against Kilmarnock? No one could have expected that, but yet here we are with the Swede getting his first on the SPFL’s worst rug at Rugby Park.

Then there’s the emergence of Greg Taylor. Taylor has always been a solid player, a dependable defender thrust into a winger’s assignment which, to be fair, may have been a steep learning curve for him. But for those of us who believed in him from the start, we get our “I told you so” moment to the PlayStation pundits and the armchair gaffers who would have just as soon dumped him.

The Japanese bhoys are picking up where they left off last season, which is sugoi. Georgios Giakoumakis, a new father with a new purpose, who could easily start but has come off the bench with amazing results. Jota? Worth every penny and more with the consistently phenomenal play we expect from the Portuguese wunderkind. Even Moritz Jenz, on loan from Lorient, may want to keep his bags unpacked and stay in Scotland for awhile.

Add to this the cast of last year’s regulars who add to the successful mix: Stephen Welsh and Anthony Ralston at the back, Liel Abada on the wing, and David Turnbull showing the solid midfield play that brought him to Glasgow from Motherhell . . . sorry, Motherwell. To say nothing of Matt O’Riley being the biggest steal in the last transfer window, flying under the radar of just about everyone except our staff.

So expect the expected, like another successful season under Postecoglou. But also expect the unexpected as well, like goals from the back like Welsh’s against Aberdeen and, yes, even from Starfelt.

With a combined score of 10-1 in our first three games, giving the Hoops a +9 goal differential, we now turn our attention to the diet Huns, Heart of Midlothian, on Sunday at Celtic Park. Thank God for the 3 p.m. kickoff — that means I can sleep in until 7 a.m. on Sunday morning — and, of course, Mon the Hoops!

One more thing (well, two actually)

I always like to add just one more thought before signing off. In some instances, there are more than one “last thought” that compete for the pixels, and in this case both warrant an appearance here.

First, it appears that the club is doing the right thing in letting the investigation run its due course on the incident involving Alexandro Bernabei, which seems to involve drunk driving and which, of course, is never acceptable or unpunished behavior. However, in typical Scottish media fashion, public details on the incident are both conflicting and nebulous, but the club is doing the right thing by letting the investigations, internal for the club and external in the law enforcement realm, draw their conclusions. Meanwhile, he trains and is available, if necessary, for games. At worst, the kid fucked up and will pay some sort of penalty. Equating this with some other transgressions of the recent past (*cough* Boli Bolingoli *cough*) and seeking Bernabei’s exit for this transgression, especially before all the facts are in, is completely ludicrous. Get a grip.

Also, it’s normally expected for the Scottish sports media to say ridiculous things about Celtic. As someone who has followed the Hoops since 2016/17 — still a neophyte, I know — I have gotten used to airheaded pundits like Kris Boyd spouting moronic nonsense like Jota’s not the best player in the league. The best response to those is just shaking one’s head, rolling one’s eyes, and moving on. But then, very unfortunately, we have some in our own ranks who spout absolute nonsense as well. Not to give the offending blog any more oxygen than it deserves, but recently a Celtic blogger sent up the trial balloon of, “Hey, maybe we should sell Giakoumakis in this transfer window.” No chance, sport, and maybe you should take up another avocation.

Regrets? I’ve had a few…

My only regret about today’s phenomenal game against St. Mirren is that it was merely a 6-0 victory for Celtic, and not a 24-0 win — the crew at The Celtic Noise will get that reference. I’ll go into why later, but first let’s look at some of the superlatives from today’s game.

First, let me just leave the stat sheet here for your consideration as I walk away for a moment.

I’m back. Did you miss me?

While I don my Captain Obvious costume, let me state that Celtic was relentless on both sides of the ball today, and it would be safe to say that the Bhoys in Green are back. This is nothing new, of course, and it parrots every other Celtic pundit on the planet, where credit is rightfully given to new manager Ange Postecoglou.

An aside: When you think about it, with the success that Postecoglou has had invigorating the current Celtic roster — giving new life to Ryan Christie and Tom Rogic and others, combined with a mix of phenomenal new talent like Leil Abada and Kyogo Furuhashi — you have to wonder what he could have done with some of the players who left. Postecoglou could have made Patryk Klimala into the second coming of Robert Lewandowski.

But I digress.

In today’s match, Abada was phenomenal and he’s only 19. Abada can be a star for the future, and he’s a treat to watch. David Turnbull? A mere hat trick does not justify the sheer tonnage of praise he deserves for his play today. Christie was all over the pitch playing like a man possessed, as was Greg Taylor. Odsonne Edouard? His body language spoke volumes about how he wants to play for the Hoops, despite what the former manager told the BBC earlier in the day.

Then there’s a defense that shut down the Saints fairly remarkably for 90-plus minutes. Could Carl Starfelt finally be settling in while the rest of the backfield takes control? Possibly. Starfelt, Stephen Welsh and Anthony Ralston all pitched in to give Joe Hart a fairly easy day between the sticks.

The down side is that despite Furuhashi playing his usual high-octane game, he is starting to get his “introduction” to the goonish reality that makes Scottish football a worldwide disgrace. Fouled repeatedly, once off the ball midway in the first half he was flattened by a forgettable nobody in a St. Mirren kit. No foul in that particular instance, of course, and no goal for the lad today overall, but that’s OK — daijobu desu, Kyogo-san — because just having the threat of his scoring leaves others open to do the deed in his place.

When he doesn’t do it himself, that is, which he has and which he will. Remember where you heard it first.

All of which leads me to why the score should have been run up more against the Buddies — someone’s buddies, but not necessarily mine.

There’s Alan Power, the poster boy for the oft-waived SPFL player who has no discernible football skill other than to injure opposing players, and who will retire to bleak anonymity someday. Someday soon, and the sooner the better. Ever wonder how much better off the SPFL — hell, how much better off humanity — would be without Power in it?

I do. All the time.

No one was more surprised than me, gasping with mouth agape 5,000 miles away around sunrise, that Willie Collum actually found his red card and actually used it against Power for an assault on Turnbull that was a textbook red card.

Actually calling a legitimate foul on a Celtic opponent. Willie Collum. You don’t see that every day. . . .

So I don’t know what was said in the locker room at halftime, but if I were Postecoglou — and I have the sweaters and shirts, to be sure, but not the hair and beard (let alone the football knowledge, of course) — I would give the bhoys a green light to light up the scoreboard when the opposition pulls hammerthrowing nonsense like St. Mirren did on Saturday. Ring them up, and while 6-0 is a sure ringing, I would have preferred more — like a double-digit, talk-about-it-generations-from-now, song-inducing score.

OK, call me selfish.

But the fact remains that if we keep playing like this, whether it’s in Holland on Thursday against AZ Alkmaar to wrap up the Europa League stage or at the Bigotdome against the Tribute Act next Sunday, the goals and the points will come.

Here we go again, we’re on the road again . . .

It’s official: The Premiership is a joke

I was so looking forward to returning from the off-season hiatus at the start of the Scottish Premiership season yesterday and reporting whatever observations and insights I might have about the game at Swinecastle — sorry, Tynecastle — against the Diet Huns of Heart of Midlothian.

But I can’t. Instead, I have to play Captain Obvious and point out to everyone an emperor-has-no-clothes moment in Scottish football.

Specifically, the Premiership of the Scottish Professional Football League is a joke — and not even a good one, at that — primarily because of its lack of objectivity in its officiating now running on its second season of “honest mistakes” (and arguably it goes back further). And while you may want to note that the issue may be all well and good in Scotland around this, where the woefully spoon-fed Scottish dictation corps — sorry, I mean the Scottish mainstream media — would just as soon sweep it under the rug and point out there’s a new Page 3 girl.

But the rest of the world is laughing at you and pointing, Scotland, and that’s before many are turning away and tuning out from your brand of football to watch leagues that are more fair.

I know, I know. Jock Stein said that, “If you’re good enough, the referee doesn’t matter.” But yesterday, even Big Jock had to have been looking down from above on the games yesterday and saying, “Holy shit, are you kidding me?”

Let’s take a look, shall we?

Offside: Celtic


Oh, just ignore that JamTart in the circle, who clearly has Celtic winger Leil Abada onside. Apparently he’s invisible. Leil scored on this play . . . not, as it was called for offside. And let’s go to the argument-du-jour about this: Nimrods far and wide are saying, “Well, his arm is offside.” Seriously? An appendage that has nothing to do with the game? Here, have a cookie and go outside and play. In traffic.

Not offside: Rangers

Truth in advertising: I had learned to count around 1960, so it goes without saying that I have a pretty solid grasp of numbers and their concept insofar as counting things. And here, it appears to me — and probably anyone else looking at the photo — that three Rangers players are in the next post code before the free kick is taken. Offside? Don’t make me laugh — it’s Rangers.

Of course, the example of “honest mistakes” goes far beyond these two yesterday, and the scores that transpired last season, or the hundreds in seasons prior to that. But the fact that nothing has been done about it makes this a national disgrace.

What is to be done?

Well, there are options here. What might be done is that Dominic McKay and Ange Postecoglou could go down to the SPFL offices, kick down Neil Doncaster’s office door, and beat the shit out of him every time there’s an “honest mistake.” But I’m not asking for the world here, despite the barbarian appeal of marching through Glasgow with Doncaster’s head at the end of a stick.

[OK, calm down. I’m joking. No football executives were harmed during the writing of the previous paragraph.]

But what McKay and Postecoglou — and our do-nothing board and club office leadership, if it’s really not too much to ask of them — could do is to go to the mat, so to speak, in a very vocal and concerted way for fairness each and every time this kind of thing happens. We surely can’t be alone in this situation — when Rangers get the benefit of each and every call in their games, the other 11 clubs have to wonder why they aren’t being treated fairly. If they don’t, their fans certainly do.

McKay, Postecoglou, and Celtic need to take this case to the Scottish Football Association if, and more importantly when, necessary.

McKay, Postecoglou, and Celtic need to take this case to UEFA if, and more importantly when, necessary.

Our fans have taken up the mantle, at least, with a social media effort to point out each and every “mistake” the officials make, and hammer them on it. This is a good first step that needs to be followed with the backing of the higher-ups in the club.

The only benefit to living 5,000 miles away from Celtic — the only benefit, actually — is that distance offers a perspective that one who lives in Scotland may not have because you’re too close to it. Fans in the U.S. are already tuning out Scottish football for more prestigious leagues, which is a tragedy that doesn’t have to happen and can be fixed.

One more thing

Overall, the Bhoys looked fairly good on Saturday, even though they were playing against Hearts and the officials. Both Carl Starfelt and Kyogo Furuhashi looked OK — not great, but not bad — in their first introduction to the Scottish game, despite Starfelt’s gaffe that almost resulted in an own goal. Reminds me of another Swede who struggled in his first game as a Celt . . . Henrik something, I think his name was. It’ll come to me. Clearly all the pieces aren’t in place yet (and not to beat a dead horse, although yes, we know why), but most of them are, and chances are the Hoops will hit their stride sooner moreso than later.

Mon the Hoops!