There’s a time to choose your battles and a time to keep your powder dry. Wazzocks, take note!
There's trouble at t'mill! Or at least the Celtic blogging community. By community, I of course mean the those-and-such-as-those content creators who see themselves as inside the tent pissing out, with the sense of self-importance and entitlement that comes with making an income from daily talking the kind of pish that this blog gets around to occasionally.
Any parent will tell you of the risks that the school holidays give idle little hands some devilish work to do and, for Celtic, it seems that the accursed international break is doing the same.
Excuse me while I put down my tiny violin and explain that this is all about - drumroll - the transfer window.
Happy with the window - aye, naw, mibbes?
I have to confess that, as we were doing our usual due dithering, I considered breaking off from my important tasks to write a piece with the working title: “The Celtic transfer window — the annual betrayal”. However, I wisely kept my powder dry — and, after all, we’ve had successful windows in at least three of the last 15 or so. Accuracy is important, and there’s always next year.
The latest transfers in have left many Celtic fans excited in a way that was once only experienced by torchlight under the covers and, I am also optimistic.
However, as every adolescent learns, such unfamiliar ecstasy often leads to premature reactions and the immediate crowing from certain quarters with an undisguised adoration of Celtic’s corporate plan is perhaps ill-timed.
The attempt to eviscerate the arguments of all and any who question whether there’s an alternative to signing players in the last 48 hours was delivered with a quite brilliant blend of smugness, pseudo-intellectualism and downright idiocy befitting a forum attracting the Aloyisians and Hutchesons’ old-boys within the Celtic support, along with those still feeling resentful that mater and pater cursed them with comprehensive education. (Say what you like but we’re inclusive.)
That led to the shedding of blood on the screen as one of those who found his platform there before branching out on his own threw a barb and was then rounded on with some fairly vitriolic abuse.
This, in turn, prompted an alcohol-fuelled lament over receiving the sort of nastiness that, by his own admission, he dishes out but is less comfortable receiving. In doing so, he alluded to a long list of people who tell him what they think of him in language that he uses himself, bizarrely blaming his political past. (I think he meant he’s the kind of “socialist” who tries to win debates with the F-word and personal insults. Basically, he’d like to be Irvine Welsh but is actually an alloy of the rhetoric of Kevin Williamson and the preciousness of Mike Small).
Perhaps the most farcical element of this is the timing. There’s plenty of room for being cautiously optimistic, but It might be wiser to hold off on the statues and banners until we’ve actually seen the new signings on the pitch.
The signing of Kasper Schmeichel has been met with a universal acclaim that is understandable and securing Adam Idah and Paolo Bernardo, turning their loan deals into permanent moves is welcome and sensible.
I was one of those particularly pleased to see Luke McCowan joining the club and I am as excited as anyone to see how our record-breaking signing Arne Engles performs. As for Auston Trusty and Alex Valle, I am as hopeful as anyone.
But there’s an important caveat — hope is rarely a solid platform for the sort of in-your-face derision delivered by Peter Lawwell’s most trusted independent blogger.
And nor do we need to start raining on parades when the team isn’t even active.
But haven’t we been here before? Has everyone else fallen victim to the same Orwellian memory hole that has allowed the summer 2020 to be something we just don’t talk about?
Then, too, “the board spent big” on sure-fire stars like Christopher Jullien, Vasillias Barkas and the legendary Boli Bolingoli-M’Bombo, joined by the loan signing of Shane Duffy. All would feature prominently in our losing the chance to win ten-in-a-row — or even a trophy that season.
I believe that there’s a different feel to this window and, coupled with strong performances at the start of the season, there are grounds to believe that we are taking an important step forward.
But that will only be proven with victories over the likes of Slovan Bratislava, Young Boys Bern, Club Brugge and Dinamo Zagreb — all of whom have lower resources than Celtic and who play outside the Big Five leagues.
There are many lessons to be drawn from this tawdry situation (and dishonourable mention goes to the other content-providers calling critics ”c&&&s” for challenging their analyses).
One is that presuming the success of new signings who have played approximately 50 minutes for Celtic combined is a fool’s errand.
Another is that the internecine warring between self-important fans with laptops yet again explodes the myth of the “Celtic family”. (I say this having been the recipient of efforts to actively sabotage this blog when it was actually read occasionally. Yes, it was quite obvious where it came from.)
The Celtic support is increasingly divided, with more and more fans seeking their own niche and their own platform, demanding acclaim and being motivated by self-interest, arrogance and jealousy. The term, “wazzocks,” springs to mind, in the interests of politeness.
Fight on boys — knock yourselves and each other out! But, first, it might be wise to have a clue what you’re actually fighting — or even talking — about.
