Let’s stop there.
We really don’t need a constant update on our incredible lack of success in Europe’s top tournament away from home any more than we require a forensic analysis of why only great Spanish teams beat us at home.
As far as the home record is concerned, give the press their moment – it’s all about the “atmosphere”. Jungle veterans might question whether or not the intimidation factor of high stands of seated fans is a more frightening prospect than the swarming, roaring terracing that faced innumerable sides but Gordon Strachan might shed light on the issue from his time as a Don.
But what happens away? It’s a mystery… No, that’s bovine excrement.
The explanation for Celtic’s contrasting home and away records is simple to the mind of this humble blogger. European football is, in many ways, profoundly conventional. It follows orders, natural or otherwise.
When teams come to Celtic Park, (with the exception of the very best) they tend to play like away sides are supposed to in European competition – they allow the home team space and time on the ball in supposedly non-crucial areas, hoping to smother attacks and construct carefully considered counters.
Result? The skill and relentless forward pressure as demanded by 60,000 fans has repeatedly seen Celtic secure great results.
Away from home it is different. No decent team cedes the initiative on its own patch and the result is matches of radically different character. Playing any half-decent side, Celtic players find themselves with far less time to control the ball and make a pass and far less options as outlets – i.e. team-mates who are in space and not under pressure.
The outcome tends to be panic and loose balls or rushed passes played too hard to the feet of closely-marked players. This was the story on Tuesday night at El Madrigal – but there were signs of hope.
When Gordon Strachan mentioned the positives in Celtic’s display most paid pundits gave him short shrift. The reality is, however, that this was one of Celtic’s best away performances for years – against an exceptionally gifted team – but one that merely emphasised the historic gulf between the finest team in the Scottish league and a noble club battling for recognition in Spain.
Celtic showed that we have an attacking forward unit that is edging closer to the standard required. Georgios Samaras did everything but score the goal –evidence that a gifted player with too low a pulse rate can fluff chances as crudely as a panicking adrenaline junky.
Pundits differ as to the performances of the midfield but, to this observer, Scott Brown was Celtic’s best player on the night and one of the very best on show. Close behind him was Shunsuke Nakamura, popularly maligned in the press, giving evidence that even good Celtic footballers such as Craig Burley can lose all appreciation of the game when watching from the stands.
It is now the received wisdom that Nakmura was “ineffectual” and in all humility, I am prepared to accept that I know less about the game than the legends of the Scottish football press. However, I saw a player being asked to perform in a different, less headline-grabbing role; who would be the link man for every panicked release or pass of uncertain ideas, in doing so compensating for the lack of a second striker.
Those who criticised Nakamura can hardly have noted the number of times too-hard passes were played directly at his feet, only for him to control the ball and re-emphasise play in another area within a second.
This was one of the few occasions when Celtic have tried to play the fast passing game that comes so naturally to teams from the better leagues. For a short period, the players managed it but the weaker links remain – some in unexpected areas.
First, to the full-backs. Lee Naylor has endured much criticism and that need not be expanded upon here. However, defensive deficiencies are enough to contend with: recklessly swung “crosses” under no opposition pressure are an uncalled-for extravagance.
On the right, Mark Wilson had another night to forget – make that a night to file under “Ipcress File” and hope never to recognise mention of it again. There is an unwelcome sense around Wilson that he will be perennially injured and never fulfil his potential. Certainly, he can play but last night’s performance is perhaps best put down to fitness issues keeping him off the pace throughout the match and making him look utterly out of place in the “zonal marking” defence.
Wilson is a good right-back and a very unlucky one. How long can he exclude a German international and a surging young talent such as Paul Caddis?
Artur Boruc, Stephen McManus and especially Gary Caldwell (who we should not praise in case he loses it again) were all on top form and the midfield unit, with Paul Hartley as its safety valve, worked quite well.
However, this was a night for mixing it with the big boys and that was where Celtic’s precocious talents were found wanting. In the first half, Aiden McGeady was his frustrating worst – never knowing when to take his man on or turn and pass; almost invariably getting it wrong. At the same time, Shaun Maloney was energetic and well-positioned but seemed incapable of playing the ball in front of Nakamura, actually advancing the ball, instead blasting it at his team-mates’ feet.
After the interval, the roles were reversed. McGeady was the boy most likely to succeed while Maloney was rarely noticed.
Unfortunately, these deficiencies were demonstrated at the ground of a first-class football team and one with which Celtic should be proud to be associated. Villareal had only good and very good players on show. If Marcos Senna was the best player on the field, however relentlessly harried by Scott Brown, Santi Cazorla will have equally whetted the appetites of scouts or even those nostalgically checking in on Robert Pires.
Celtic were second-best, alright – but maybe to the best team in the group.
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