DURING HIS REIGN as Celtic Manager, Jock Stein – having almost disowned by the rest of his ultra-Protestant family, for the crime of signing for The Other Side, used to delight in stealing the back page headlines from Rangers. The Ibrox club were perhaps about to announce a big signing, when time and again, Stein would find a way to trump them and have Celtic as the big back page story on the Saturday morning.
The Big Man was the master of media manipulation, at a time when we had a mainstream media in Scotland who sold newspapers in their millions and whose football writers were, in the main, members of that most-exclusive of Lodges – The Typewriter Loyal (now the Lap Top Loyal).
How Celtic could do with him now. Even when Michael Kelly – who was Lord Provost of Glasgow, before re-inventing himself as a PR Consultant, some 40 years ago, was calling the shots in the Celtic Park boardroom, the club's High Heid Yins constantly stumbled when it came of public relations.
Terry Cassidy – the club's first salaried Chief Executive – had a media background, but, he continued the long-standing tradition of the club's leaders in continually messing-up public relations in general and relations with the support in particular.
Jock Brown, another club CEO also had a background in media, but was no more successful in promoting the club's interests effectively. Wee Fergus McCann, of course, Having graduated from the ranks of the Tertracing Tims of the day, had a more or less free pass. He did things his way so was never particularly bothered what the media said or did, but, he still had his problems with the fans. Over his many years with the club, I sense Peter Lawwell, although a lot smarter than “The Donald” pre-Trump Trumped the media by simply ignoring them, confident in his infallability and superiority.
The present lot – well Peter is still there, Dermot Desmond comes across as a bit of a green, rather than orange-hued Trump – so, I reckon it's either a case of them not caring what the increasingly less-influential mainstream media says or does, or, there is something in the water supply along London Road way.
Maybe they feel – The Celtic Family may moan and complain; The Green Brigade in particular may come up with stunts designed to embarrass them, but, when push comes to shove, The Faithful can be counted-on to still turn out and support “A club like no other”.
Mind you, the Scottish Branch of the Labour Party – many of whose biggest hitters over the years have been members of that Celtic Family – used to think, regardless of how many “Low Flying Jimmies” they sent south to do little or nothing for their Scottish constituents, their majorities and seats were safe – until they weren't.
However, the “Politbureau's” craven, dismissive attitude to the most-recent complaint, organised by the Green Brigade, but encompassing the entire broad church of the support, just might, in time, be seen as a huge and costly error.
I wonder what it will take to dissuade the Parkhead Faithful from attending games. The core support certainly is far-more tolerant of watching shite than their alter egos in the South West of the city.
Let's be honest – the current squad is not a particularly-talented one. They have nobody, not even their esteemed Captain Callum McGregor, or James Forrest, a man with sufficient medals to make a North Korean General jealous, who will get close to the conversation around The Greatest Celtic Team. However, such is the paucity of talent and ambition in the Scottish Professional Football League, Celtic not winning another domestic Treble this season will be deemed failure.
The Club and their media cheer-leaders, may well have succeeded in convincing the fitba public that there is no way the club will ever again be contenders for the major European prize, but, can perhaps have a go at the second and third tier pan-continental competitions. But, the punters still want to see the men in the Hoops playing “the Celtic Way” - with pace, flair and the elan of cavalry officers.
This, apparently, goes against the accepted style of football to be played in this third decade of the 21st century. Such delights as a 60-yard cross-field diagonal pass from Bobby Murdoch to a galloping Bobby Lennox; no, not fashionable today – too risky. Jimmy Johnstone turning his full-back inside-out, just for the Hell of it, no – not good team-work.
Today's fitba calls for walking pace, slow build-up from the back, pass the opposition off the park, bore them until they switch off – pass the ball 50 yards backwards if it causes even one opponent to forget: they've “parked the bus” some 25 yards from their goal and it will take an awful lot to get them to come out and leave a glimmer of space for your front men.
It's boring and hard to watch, in fact, to use an auld Scottish complaint: “It wid get Fitba stopped.” I can see, some day in the future, even the most devout Celtic fans voting with their feet – fed up with beating the dross we take as normal in Scotland, but enduring pratt falls in Europe every year as Summer gives way to Autumn.
It is becoming harder and harder to entice half-decent non-Scots into our backwater of a game. The fans are growing weary of here today, gone tomorrow, badge-kissing mercenaries, maybe it is time for the club to go back to doing things The Celtic Way – recruiting young, talented Scots and giving them their heads.
The broader Celtic Family would doubtless love that, but, I don't think the risk-averse suits in the posh seats would.
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