Celtic’s ugliest three points all season also brought the greatest relief to a side that has now opened a sizeable gap at the top of the table. With Rangers having four games in hand, the Ibrox side remain favourites to win the SPL but Celtic’s eight-point lead must look like a chasm to the chasing side at this stage of the season.
Top-flight football will probably never be played on a worse surface than the disaster that is the Fir Park pitch, but Motherwell adapted their game better in the early stages.
A combination of a packed midfield, tenacious tackling and using an offside trap to limit Celtic’s previous aerial success against the home side, left Celtic struggling for answers as Motherwell won eight first-half corners. Celtic, on the other hand, failed to make any impression in the first period with Aiden McGeady’s threat negated by a combination of an uneven pitch and opponents prepared to double up or even send three players to challenge him.
For Motherwell, Keith Lasley and Darren Smith were especially impressive in a confident, committed and aggressive team display and such little football as there was came from the men in Claret and Amber.
The match came to life in the second half when Chris Porter beat Bobo Balde to a Brian McLean cross to nod home on the hour mark. However, it was Motherwell whose game was more disrupted by the goal and the over-excited players allowed Celtic hitherto unheard of space through the middle allowing Shunsuke Nakamura to find Scott McDonald who headed an immediate equaliser.
With the crucial goal came a sense that the momentum had swung in Celtic’s favour.
Gordon Strachan brought on Scott Brown for Nakamura, whose skills were largely wasted on the bumpy ground and under some rough physical treatment. Giorgious Samaras replaced captain for the day Jan Vennegoor of Hesselink, who had had little joy with the few high balls that were launched his way and who seems to be penalised every time he tries to challenge for a header.
Samaras’s strength and skill on the ball gave Celtic a greater sense of composure married to the now expected resolute play of Barry Robson as Hartley tidied up when Motherwell pressed forward. Meanwhile McGeady, on the left wing, was benefiting from running on the only decent patch of grass on the field and getting forward more regularly, playing some testing deliveries.
On the other side, Brown’s energy gave Celtic more width and the ability to reach the touchline.
Mark McGhee decided to go for the win, replacing the excellent Smith with Ross McCormack while Strachan responded by replacing Lee Naylor with Mark Wilson.
The breakthrough came from a 79th-minute Robson corner which Samaras duly converted, being the hungriest man for the ball. It is indicative of the team spirit that exists at Celtic that Samaras’s first instinct was to head to the bench and embrace Vennegoor of Hesselink in a display of solidarity.
With the game now far more open, nerves were jangling in the Celtic supporters but another top-drawer performance from Gary Caldwell did much to alleviate the pressure, not just with his defending but through clever forward passes that relocated the play to the Motherwell half.
The home team continued to press, forcing corners and with Stevie Hammill’s shot flashing across goal in the 88th minute, Motherwell could yet have wrecked Celtic’s dreams.
The final whistle was greeted with joy from Celtic fans who were asking for nothing other than a “job done” performance. But, in difficult circumstances, the spirit of the team shone through. Special praise is due to Gordon Strachan who demonstrated all his managerial expertise with his substitutions and transformation of a match when the stakes were at their highest.
Man of the Match: Barry Robson for his insistence on taking charge of the midfield when most needed. Gary Caldwell could make a case for his own bottle of champagne.
When Rangers progressed to the UEFA Cup final (a notable achievement) my response was to feel sad - not angry or bitter, just sad.
Many years ago, I tried to buy into that idea of friendly rivalry. As a young guy I worked in a bar and watched from the other side as people made fools of themselves on both sides. I got embarrassed by some Celtic fans who could NEVER see that their team had been beaten by the better side.
And, of course, there were times when I had to step in when the regulars were arguing because I knew that there came a point when the banter and debate would turn to drink-fuelled rage, not necessarily fighting but all sorts of offence caused.
Those were in the "sack the board" days and Celtic fans had to stand for all sorts of interpretations of "We are the peepul". I didn't find it easy but then I had the opportunity to watch people with their crimson faces and veins popping spluttering all sorts of invective as if that made it any better. I resolved that however much I cared, I wouldn't get like that. I even hoped that somewhere, some time, in some company, I could view this as a sporting rivalry that involved banter and laughs and mutual respect.
But when I say it makes me sad, it's because I was confronted with the reality that I was kidding myself.
When Rangers played Leeds United, I genuinely decided that I would be behind Rangers. The thought of the English champions cuffing the Scottish champions and the English media AGAIN sneering at the inferiority of all things Scottish was motivation enough to suppress my natural instinct to support ANYONE against THEM. And deep down, I hoped that I might feel that way again in future. I guess I was looking for a new perspective.
But then they got the result they wanted and when we should all have been celebrating together, the songs came out about being "up to our knees in Fenian blood", and about Celtic of course. And worse, I was privvy to so many of the conversations between Rangers supporters themselves at the bar and it instantly became about "Taigs" and every other pejorative term about Catholics, the Irish and Celtic.
I remember being shocked by three guys standing at the bar talking about the supposed increase the Catholic population in certain areas - I had never even imagined that people really mused on things like that.
One guy said "they" were increasing in Drumchapel. His pal looked confused and said he hadn't heard anything. "Have ye never heard 'the Catholic Drum'?" I was dumbstruck.
Even amongst the regulars, I came to realise that they didn't want people to share in their success or to join them in celebration – the recognition they demanded, by “giving them their due” they meant they wanted Celtic supporters to bow down before them in acknowledgement of their supremacy.
And that night something happened that I had become used to over the years, especially after Rangers games. I was woken up by someone shouting "F the Pope". You see, I lived across from a Catholic church on a main road. I sat up in bed that night thinking "Who am I fooling? These people will never respect me, who I am, what I value or even my right to a private space where I can recognise or express these things out of view of anyone who may object – why ever the hell they should.
I was reminded of that last night when I popped into my local after the game. A chorus of boos piped up and I looked at the TV to see pictures of Giovanni Trappatoni holding an Ireland shirt.
Then in walked a guy I speak to regularly – a nice guy (I’ll call him Gordon). The first time I realised Gordon genuinely was a Rangers fan was on “helicopter Sunday” when I went into my local and he was drunkenly singing “Hello Hello” and a few other songs. Previously, he had told me that his only interest in football was in following Scotland. I took it with a pinch of salt but was genuinely disappointed to see the reaction that a sudden unexpected victory prompted but I was older and wiser than before and got over it.
I made it my practice in talking to him to skirt around Celtic or Rangers ever since and we have got on well. I even caused disgust in another friend when I helped Gordon with something he needed for his Masonic lodge. On many occasions he has emphasised that there is no bar on Catholics in the Masons and even been clear that he would be happy to sponsor me for his lodge, something I took as a compliment.
So when he came in, what was his greeting? He stood at the door and sang “Hello”! Just one “hello” but we knew what he meant. Then he instantly gravitated towards the same guys who had been booing the sight of an Irish shirt.
Later, after people were drifting home, he came to chat to me and, as I have made my practice, I was gracious about his team’s achievement and more importantly his right to enjoy the occasion.
After a while, someone said “not got a song tonight?” (He is notorious for his Tartan Army tunes). Gordon replied: “You wouldn’t like the songs I would sing tonight.” I couldn’t help being disappointed – and just feeling rather sad.
You see, the “nice guy” I referred to really is that – and a good man who helps anyone in any way he can. He is also intelligent and capable of articulating the more subtle, complex sentiments that many men seem to struggle with.
But if guys like Gordon (and I have met many like him) can’t enjoy a Rangers win without considering it a natural response to offend the people who share his city, what hope is there that Scotland will ever be better?
We complain that the Scottish media have stood back and ignored abuse of Catholics and the Irish but the truth is that two sentiments are at play there: conscious prejudice and the narrow-minded oblivious state that cannot see anything that has been the norm in Scottish society is inherently wrong. They can see this looking outwards at racial, national and religious prejudice in other countries but have been shaped by an atmosphere in Scotland that normalises aberrant behaviours.
So, to Rangers, enjoy the occasion. But until you learn to win with dignity, to recognise success in a positive way that doesn’t involve claims of cultural supremacy, I cannot wish you well.
In the aftermath of a remarkable period in terms of bad blood between your favourite team and mine, let me address some of your recent commentaries in The Herald.
In today’s paper – available on the internet, of course – you spout forth on the actions of Artur Boruc, crassly, if indirectly, linking the wearing of a T-shirt depicting the late Pope John-Paul II to the death of a Celtic supporter attacked on Sunday night.
You also refer to a violent attack, quite possibly sectarian in motivation, on Aiden McGeady remarking, “Suddenly, stoking the fire does not seem such a smart idea, does it?”
Violence, Darryl – sometimes fatal – related to matches between Celtic and Rangers is sadly nothing new. It is something that most decent people abhor, making no distinction regarding the victims or perpetrators of such vile acts.
Yet, you chose not to make mention of the actions of Walter Smith, who, prior to the match, joined with Martin Bain in making direct personal attacks on Peter Lawwell and Celtic in general, scorning the integrity of the club and chief executive and claiming to have been directly disadvantaged by Lawwell’s intervention.
Not so long ago it was accepted that no-one associated with Celtic or Rangers would make any comment likely to raise tensions in the West of Scotland prior to such a match. You apparently seek to imply that Artur Boruc is responsible for fanning the flames yet, by implication of silence, absolve Walter Smith, a veteran of some 40 such encounters as Rangers manager and with an involvement going back 22 years.
Do you think it might have been better for Smith and Bain to have used more temperate language? Why did you make no direct remark on this, other than to add to the “point-scoring” furore?
You also caricature Artur Boruc as a “pantomime villain,” guilty of “overt symbolism,” “antagonism,” “wreaking havoc,” and “selfishness… using football grounds, as a soap box for his beliefs”. That’s a hell of a T-shirt.
It must also be said that your use of the term “granting an audience” in relation to an interview with Boruc is wholly inappropriate. I’ll credit you with the ability to know why.
Has it ever occurred to you or your colleagues to properly challenge the “FTP brigade” who so berated Boruc and reported him to the police for having the temerity to make the sign of the cross at Ibrox Park? Was there a word of condemnation in The Herald when fans at Ibrox displayed a banner degrading Boruc on the grounds of his Catholicism, with the words “Voodoo no worky"?
Apparently not, even though it has been claimed that the banner in question was commissioned by The (non-sectarian) Blue Order, is similar in style to others used by that organisation and appeared in an area used by the group, once the bane of Ibrox officialdom but now quoted as part of the “Follow with Pride” campaign: “Davie Macintosh of The Blue Order said: ‘I'm really looking forward to hearing the singing even more this season and I'm sure all the fans will be right behind the new Follow With Pride campaign. We are really going to up the anti in terms of stadium atmosphere this season with a few new plans of our own including using megaphones and each stand having its own design of flag.’"
I suspect that the lack of attention to such matters is due to the fact that you, like the majority of Scottish football journalists, seem to consider yourself one of the arbiters of common sense when it comes to defining who has a right to be offended by what and how much.
Then again, derision aimed at Catholicism and Scotland’s Irish community, e.g. the recent song with the words “the famine’s over, why don’t you go home” is routinely displayed by Rangers supporters with barely a line noting its occurrence in the mainstream media.
Despite quoting chapter and verse of the relevant legislation pertaining to Boruc’s T-shirt, and implying that FIFA had been asked to intervene, you conspicuously failed to reference the numerous FIFA and UEFA directives breached by Rangers supporters – and by implication the club – at a significant proportion of the club’s games.
But, Darryl, this is where I have trouble fathoming either what your standpoint is or, perhaps more properly, what inspired The Herald to appoint you as “Chief Football Writer”.
Just last week, you assumed the role of social commentator, scorning people such as yourself (“log-on looneys”, I believe you then called them), “who seek a form of internet-driven infamy; the kind who have taken to inconveniencing UEFA every Monday morning with their pathetic reel of YouTube one-upmanship”.
“Internet idiots are drowning out right-thinking Old Firm majority”, blasted the headline, as you declared “the internet age has spawned a new strain of Old Firm idiocy. Untraceable and unaccountable [We’ll come back to that], this is the evolution of the bampot.”
The “intelligent, reasoned follower of Old Firm fortunes”, you claimed, has had “concise and cerebral arguments drowned out by feverish and irrational proclamations”.
You grossly exaggerated the response of Celtic supporters to Rangers fans unfurling yet another illegal and racist banner at a UEFA Cup match, where the entire ticket allocation had been controlled by the club. You then referred to “the hidden meaning behind ‘Nakamura Ate My Dog’.”
“Racist, discriminatory, the SFA must act was the gist. Are we to assume Celtic's sublimely gifted and profoundly intelligent midfielder has endured sleepless nights over a banner that is not only inaccurate but, given his limited grasp of English, probably lost on him?
“Do we even have to point out that Japanese don't eat dog meat?”
I am sure, Darryl, given your own grasp of English – and a few other usual characteristics of the broadsheet writer – the irony was lost on you but that very night a courageous, gifted and respected journalist, Rageh Omaar, presented the third part of “Immigration: The Inconvenient Truth”. I suggest you watch it before you deign to make any further pronouncements on social cohesion and the acceptable face of racism.
Omaar refers to tabloid headlines accusing Eastern European immigrants of eating swans and relates this common gruesome stereotyping of foreigners to his experience of stories claiming that his fellow Somalis ate donkeys.
The Polish journalist Omaar spoke to said such stories appalled her when faced with the realisation that British journalists “perceive us as wild animals”.
But perhaps we shouldn’t take that seriously. After all, a writer of your standing has already illustrated how the “right-minded majority” should feel, according to their command of English and certain perceptions of what constitutes offensive racism – as opposed to the other kind.
And you clearly feel qualified to pass judgement on Artur Boruc – an immigrant Polish Catholic (and probably, Darryl, the best goalkeeper in the world, in case you can yet be jolted back into the dark realms of sports reporting) who does not easily accept the derision of people who consider themselves to be the natural majority in this country.
“A clear distinction must be drawn between real Old Firm supporters and the plankton who contribute nothing but embarrassment to their respective clubs,” you say, “Those who seek a form of internet-driven infamy”.
There is another clear distinction: “between real journalists and the plankton who contribute nothing but embarrassment to their respective titles” internet-driven infamy being a felicitous side-issue.
Let’s return to fulfilling my promise. “Untraceable and unaccountable,” you say. Well, we could debate who has a right to spout their utterances on the Internet, as you do, and the concept of identity. Does a believable name carry greater weight than one obviously meant to denote an identity without claims that any related passport or driving licence is registered?
Is it more honest to be declared as Darryl Broadfoot than “One Star Means More”, “Fat Eck”, “Hector Bandido”, “Murphio”, “GrandMaster Suck” or “Paul 67”?
What about “Martin McMillan”, “Derek Miller” et al, who beef up the pages of The Herald without indication that they are just two of many Herald "writers" who do not even exist? What about the Herald writer whose reports are listed as “at Stamford Bridge” but who really watches the matches on satellite TV?
The point is, Darryl, if I really have to articulate it, that perhaps we should all try to evaluate what we do, where we are, how the hell we got here and what shaped our perspectives objectively (if we possibly can), lest we face charges of hypocrisy.
Alternatively, rather than taking to the keyboards to attack people and suggest sanctions against them, for example Artur Boruc or those non-journalists who dare to speak, some of us should, as Mr Lincoln advocated, “remain silent and be thought a fool” rather than have our utterances remove all doubt.
Cometh the hour, cometh the man they say and today saw the emergence of a player with the mark of greatness.
No, not Scott McDonald this time, though his two goals took him close to being the first man since Stevie Chalmers to score three goals against Rangers.
No, it was the moment that McDonald declined – when, rather than pursue that goal, a Celtic penalty was awarded and up stepped Barry Robson to assume the responsibility of salvaging Celtic’s season.
Robson, remember, started this season at Dundee United, played much of his career Inverness Caledonian Thistle and started off at another smaller club, Glasgow Rangers.
No-one should underestimate the determination, the raw courage and the utter professionalism of Robson in assuming the task. But it was only the culmination of a lion-hearted performance from the midfielder. His passing, running and energy ensured that Rangers had a torrid afternoon.
But his ability to take hold of the match – to refuse to lose the ball – was reminiscent of a Celtic legend, Roy Atiken. Robson is a far better footballer than the Bear but showed that he has everything needed to ascend to greatness for Celtic.
Scott Brown’s day will come. Right now he has the ultimate role model.
