Real Madrid 3—3 Manchester City.

I’ve never been to Spain or the Santiago Bernabéu, the state-of-the art domed stadium, where the pitch is rolled out before the multimillionaire players warm up. I saw Real Madrid under the bright lights of Paradise in their white strips. Johnny Doyle (RIP) scored a double and we we went to the home of Real Madrid and got gubbed 3—0. Laurie Cunningham was the star of the show then. More recently, ‘Don’ Carlo Ancelotti came up against Ange ball and did that slightly patronising thing that all managers do of praising the unique atmosphere of Parkhead while grabbing the points. In the return leg the referee gave the Ancelloti’s  multimillion pound team two early penalties for nothing and they ran away with a 5—1 victory, without breaking sweat. Jota celebrated his late free kick as if he’d won the Champions League. Fat chance. These teams are in a different league entirely.

Brendan Rodgers in his first incarnation of saviour (before it all went wrong in a familiar way) did run Josep “Pep” Guardiola Sala close. 3—3 draw at Parkhead. Our previous with these teams is accepting our place in the football world. After the 3—3 draw with Ranger, Real Madrid go it with Champion League holders and favourites and draw 3—3.

I used to watch every and all football matches on the telly. Arsenal v Manchester City, for example, promised much but was a dreadfully boring game in which nothing much happens over 95 minutes.

With three goals in the first 15 minutes, this was much better and more entertaining. I’m not entirely sure what Jack Grealish is for. He seems to get rave reviews for not doing very much more than back-pedalling and falling over. I don’t think he went past the full-back all night. But in two minutes he bought a free kick. Bernardo Silva looked to cross it into the box. Instead, his 25-yard free-kick rounded what little wall there was and past goalkeeper Andriy Lunin, who was late to react, flapped as the ball passed him. Terrible defending and goalkeeping of the lowest order.

Manchester City played a big part in their downfall. Vinícius Júnior caused all kinds of chaos with simple balls played behind the City defence. Eduardo Camavinga’s deflected shot made it 1-1, Rúben Dias gifting an OG in 12 minutes and most improbable of all, Rodrygo giving Madrid the lead two minutes later. The stadium was bouncing as the Madrid turned it around.

Júnior had a big chance to make it 3—1 but hit the side netting after half time.

Phil Foden’s equaliser was a thing of beauty. With Kevin de Bruyne’s injury Foden had stepped into the number ten role behind the striker. I’ve seen lots of Erling Haaland recently. None of it has been good. Foden is a giant of the game, but here he too was dwarfed by the occasion. Mostly non-existent. But when Silva, City’s best player, created a space for Stones to make a pass to Foden on the edge of the box, he instinctively banged it in the top corner. Sixty-six minutes gone and there looked like City’s retention of the ball and overall superiority was going to pay off.

Five minutes later, City went ahead.  Gvardiol took a heavy touch from Grealish’s pass. The ball seemed to get away from him, but he hit in the top corner. It was a game of great goals.

Júnior’s cross looked like one of those floppy crazy things player hang up when they have ran out of ideas. Federico Valverde, who never scores goals, caught is sweet and smashed it into the bottom corner from the edge of the box as if he’d been practicing that move all night and this was the time to show it off.

3—3 with almost ten minutes to go.

Toni Kroos had been substituted for Luka Modrić. The German is touted as one of the best in the world. He did nothing of note.

Let’s talk about Luka Modrić. Phil Foden went off with an injury, but if he wants to play as the highest level he needs to do a Luka. We gave him a standing ovation when Madrid beat us at Parkhead. The little man created a goal and scored another. In this game he helped turn the tide. Shouting and gesturing. Give me the ball. You could see him pointing. There’s talk of him retired or being retired at the end of this season. Celtic should offer him a ten- year contract. We’ve had nothing like him since losing Ľubomír Moravčík. Martin O’Neil once famously said when we were being outnumbered and outgunned in a European tie, ‘give the ball to Lubo’.

Give the ball to Luka and good things will happen. Phil Foden, Jude Bellingham, Vinícius Júnior, Erling Haaland, were pedestrian. Luka caught the eye. This man cannot retire at the end of the season. Nothing much has been decided in the tie. They go head to head next week. City should win. But you never know with Luka in the ranks. This is what a great in the game looks like.

https://amzn.to/48khBJ5

Scotland 1—3 England

Scotland are the team of glorious failure, epitomised by Archie Gemmill’s glorious goal against the Dutch in the World Cup in 1978.  

https://duckduckgo.com/?q=archie+gemmill+goal&iax=videos&ia=videos&iai=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3Dq8K9MpSJ40U

We were on the march with Ally’s army. England hadn’t qualified for either the 1974 or 1978 World Cups. These were the years when we were a match for England. Now it’s one-way traffic. England are better than us. We don’t so much worry that they’ll beat us, but that they’ll win something like the European Championship, or god help us the World Cup. They’ve got the players for it. That’s the worry.

Much was made of booing the National Anthem. I don’t really give a fuck. Lest we forget, bananas being thrown at England players by their own supporters. Death threats to England players that missed penalties and happened to be black. Scotland fans jeering the names of Celtic players when they were announced in the Scotland team were a hallmark of the team of sixties and seventies. Before that they just weren’t in the team.  

As a footballing match, like the Old Firm game, a few weeks ago, it wasn’t much of a game. For the diddy team to win (Scotland) we know the rules. Steve Clarke the Scotland manager also knows the rules. He used them to great effect at Kilmarnock. Go long. Scrap and fight. Your keeper has got to play a blinder. And most of all, you’ve got to ride your luck.

Harry Kane’s toe is worth more than Ryan Porteous, whose transfer free was around £300 000 and it showed.  Jack Henry, who was equally unconvincing in central defence, cost less than Declan Rice’s hair-do. Kane scored at Hampden again, with eight minutes to go, to ensure Scotland’s hopes of snatching a draw, they didn’t deserve wouldn’t happen.

For most of the game England dominated. They scored two first-half goals within four minutes of each other, with a lot of help from Scotland’s captain, Andy Robinson, which just about say it all. Phil Foden, who was too good and too quick for us, scored the first in 31 minutes. Foden, Bellingham, Rashford, Walker. Foden’s goal might have looked like a deflection, but look again and weep. It was all too quick for the Scottish defence to get their feet right and their mind around.  Jude Bellingham, who was the best player on the pitch, scored the other and set the third up for Harry Kane. I know Bellingham is a Real Madrid superstar, but a punter told me today he was at Rangers Academy when he was a kid. I can’t quite believe that. He’s twenty now. A big kid.  At twelve he’d have been in Ibrox first-team.

Apart from Robertson’s failure to do the basics, clear the ball, and give it to the best player on the park, there was another comic element to the game. Harry McGuire briefly brought Scotland back into the game, after half-time, with an own goal. The last time I heard anything like that was when Celtic were three or four up against Rangers and started cheering the Rangers’ players in a derogatory way when they made a successful pass.

For the diddy team to win, they must ride their luck. John McGinn should have equalised shortly afterwards. For once Lewis Dunk was posted missing. He played the game exactly how I want Celtic’s defenders to play. Imperious in the air. Good on the deck. We’ve not had that since van Dijk. But for once, a ball came off McGinn’s shoulder and went past the post. We could have been on the march with Steve Clarke’s army.

Scotland were waiting for a result in the game with Georgia needing to draw with Norway for qualification for the World Cup to happen. Norway won. But we’ve got 15 points out of 15. Even by limits of glorious failure we can’t be that much of a glorious failure. In the 150th Anniversary Match, England absolutely humped Scotland. The gulf in class was as evident as Aston Villa’s humiliation of Hibs. No great lessons to be learned. We get the usual bile of England until I die from Rangers fans that also happen to be Scottish. Nothing new to report. Booing the National Anthem makes you an SNP supporter. Aye right, Ally, I am an SNP voter. I voted for Brexit with England not Europe and would do so again in a heartbeat.  I’ve not got anything much against the English. I just hate Tory scum and the direction Tory politicians take Britain. It’s not my King. I’m proud they sent troops to George Square after the First World War because Churchill thought there would be a Socialist revolution. Move on.   

Celtic’s Next Manager?

The Champions League Final was rotten. Inter Milan played like Rangers. And like Rangers they could have stolen it in the end. Here’s the thing, commentators started talking about luck. Manchester City were the better team, but we get the kinda crap we hear all the time after beating Rangers. We rode our luck.

Manchester City were lucky. They took off one of the best players in the world, Kevin De Bruyne. They brought on one of the best players in the world, Phil Foden.  And Foden could and perhaps should have finished it. Made it 2—0 for City. But he didn’t.

We’re familiar with that in Scotland. Every Scottish team sits in, and I’m including Rangers in this. They hope to win free-kicks, corners. Like Livingston they whip balls into our box. Successful teams bully our backline. They score, in the same way, Inter nearly got an equaliser.

Two years ago, we were a mess. Rodgers had fucked off for the big payday, lying that he had to go immediately. Lennon had stepped in. Every signing we made was money wasted. Need I remind you about Barkas? Rangers had finished 25 points ahead. All the pundits were predicting Stevie G’s team would dominate for years to come. Eddie Howe kept dithering before rejecting the chance to manage Celtic.

Ange Postecoglou was the answer. Ange who? Remember that pre-season friendly in which West Ham won 6–2. It could have been ten. We lost at Tynecastle. Most of us weren’t convinced, but willing to give this Australian bloke a season in which to turn it around. Edouard, finally, left after missing yet another sitter at Ibrox. Christie left. Ayer, who couldn’t header a ball, was talking as if he was saving his career by moving to Brentford (where he’s on the bench, if he’s lucky and not injured, again).

We got plaudits but not much more out of European football. Rangers proved themselves to be the worst team in Champions’ League history. I know that’s irrelevant, but I’m just reminding you because we hate them. We won five domestic trophies out of six under Postecoglou.

There were rumours he was going that reached a crescendo before the cup final against Inverness. Postecoglou talked the talk, then walked the walk, we’ve become familiar with.

Now the bookies aren’t taking any more bets on Brendan Rodgers returning. Let me put it this way, there won’t be 15 000 supporters clamouring at the entrance to meet and greet him this time (if it’s true). Another payday and using our club as a stepping stone, while trotting out the Julie Andrew’s number about climbing every mountain and some shite about his love of all things green and white.

We’re pragmatists. Jock Stein signed Alfie Conn. Rodgers takes con to another level. But he knows the club. He’s not anti-football in the way that Davy Moyes, for example, plays. We’ve got a champion-winning team. We’ve got Champions League football. For now, we’ve got Kyogo and Hatate.

I’m not wearing that one that Postecoglou won’t raid his old club. We’re a selling club. I’ve no interest in how much money we make from selling players. I want to keep our best players. And with Callum McGregor, they are our best. I’m assuming McGregor won’t go. But if Postecoglou asked him, he might. We just don’t know.

I know no more than you. But I do know that after the Eddie Howe debacle, they’ll be no hanging about. A new manager will be in place. The heavy money is on the new manager, being that old manager. I can live with that. The downside is an outsider like Postecoglou had a list of players he was going to bring. A new old manager won’t have that. So if we get a new, new manager, we can expect, he’ll have a shopping list.

We have time on our side. The new manager will be in place for the pre-season. We don’t need to be up to speed for the Champions League qualifiers. But we need to be up to speed for the league and the Champions League proper. We’re still in a virtuous cycle in which money goes to money, and we can afford the best managers and the best players. Pep should leave City and the Saudi’s sport washing and come manage a proper team. He can bring De Bruyne and Phil Foden with him. We’ll give them the freedom of Glasgow.  

England 0—0 Scotland.

Scotland fans celebrated this 0—0 draw like Rangers’ fans invading George Square and mistaking it for the centre of Manchester, where they went on the rampage a few years ago. I got into the spirit by being late into the Albion, drowning my sorrows before I was sorry, and having to play catch-up by downing a pint in a oner (well kinda). It’s thirsty work hating the English. Before the game, we thought Steve Clarke had got the team selection wrong. No Rangers players, the Scottish Champions in a Scottish team. O’Donnell, who I admit has a suspiciously Irish Catholic tang to it, was playing (not that one), the diddy that plays for Motherwell, but played for Clarke at Kilmarnock.  My argument was O’Donnell was good at taking shys. It’s not much, but Steve Clarke’s cunning plan was to revert to type and turn Scotland into Kilmarnock. Go long and defend in numbers. It worked great.

Lyndon Dykes won every high ball. In the first few minutes, he and Che Adams was making the English backline nervous by being in their faces. We were on top. Inexplicably, we had the kind of defending that has marked Celtic’s season. At a corner John Stones was left a free header—it bounced off the post.

European Cup winner Mason Mount also slashed across goal after being played in by Raheem Sterling. The ball being given to the European Cup loser by Scott McTominay, who temporarily forgot he was a Scot. He flapped a bit after that mistake, but then upped his game to Kilmarnock levels.

That was about it for England. Harry Kane didn’t feature before getting subbed late on. Phil Foden, touted, and rightly so, as one of the most exciting talents in world football, was outshone by the likes Billy Gilmour (even though he’s an ex-Hun—I’m sure glad he’s at Chelsea and not Rangers).

Even the diddy O’Donnell had us lapping up his performance. He almost scored from a Kieran Tierney cross in the first half. The England keeper Pickford got a block, but the ball went up in the air and it looked as if Che Adams might header it in—but he didn’t.

England dominated the early period of the second-half, and this was the way many of us believed the game would pan out. But Scotland held firm and didn’t look to concede and slowly, like Manchester City in the European final, they began to run out of routes to goal. Dykes shot at goal had us all on our feet (that’s the kind of lie short-sighted people use who can’t see their feet) when he beat the England keeper. But somehow Chelsea defender James got a heel onto the ball and kept it from going over the line. Bastard.

Scotland didn’t exactly pile forward, but we grew more comfortable, and dangerous when getting forward. Adams had a chance to hit the stand or goal, and being an Englishman in a Scottish jersey, he opted for the former. (He did have a good game, although Dykes, with lesser ability was more effective.) No one is the Scottish shirt let us down. Our fans celebrated at the end. And we tried to work out how (a) to get home and what pub was still open (b) how we can just mix out on the qualifying rounds by losing a late goal, or getting a draw when we needed victory. The kind of glorious victory in defeat Scotland as excelled at over the years. It’s been a long time since we went down to Wembley and ripped up the turf and ate it, just to show how tough we were. C’mon Scotland—but don’t expect too much.    

Manchester City 3—0 Arsenal

I don’t watch much of English football now. Usually, I fall asleep on a Saturday night watching Match of the Day. After lockdown I watched the big game. When you don’t really care who wins, as I do, the game needs to be sparkling to keep your attention. Arsenal started quite well, but City made the better chances. They’d four shots on goal, before Kevin De Bruyne tried a speculative pass. Earlier he’d misplaced a pass and helped create one of Arsenal’s two first-half chances. Here he misplaced another pass, but David Luiz let the ball hit against him and he played in Raheem Stirling who slammed it into the net. Luiz had came on as an substitute, one of two, Arsenal changes to their first eleven, as players not quite up to speed suffered injuries.

Mikel Arteta, the Arsenal boss, who once played for Rangers, knows a diddy when he sees one and Luiz comes into that category. I was half supporting Arsenal because ex-Celtic player Kieran Tierney was given a run out.

  Ederson Santana de Moraes, the Man City goalkeeper picked apart the Arsenal defence with his first two, second-half passes in the opening minutes. Riyad Mahrez, first touch was poor and he was through on goal, but the chance gone. A minute or two later, another defence-splitting pass. Luiz pulls Mahrez back in the penalty box. Luiz gets sent off.

De Bruyne scores the penalty and it’s just a matter of how many City will score. Eleven players against ten. Training match, with water breaks.  

Substitute Fernandino to England hopeful Phil Foden to make it three…

Arsenal’s best player, goal-keeper, Bernd Leno, which pretty much says it all.

Man City’s keeper wiped out one of his own defenders late in the game. He was taking no chances. Playing Luiz is perhaps taking too big a gamble. Interesting to see where Luiz will go next. Unbelievably, Luiz has gone for around £100 million-plus in an up and down career. He’ll soon be back at Chelsea.

Same old Arsenal, beaten 3—0 by City last time. Beaten 3—0 this time. Kevin de Bruyne taken off, but still made man of the match. Really, it was Luiz. Football is back (yawn). I suppose I’ll watch the Merseyside derby. Don’t care who wins that one either. Waiting for Celtic’s season to begin, anew.