Fat Lady Sings

Here at The Paranoid Tim we like to take you on a journey with each and every article posted on our humble little blog. What kind of journey, I hear you ask? Well, we'd like to think we were the blog equivalent of a fortnight at a luxurious Tuscany villa nestling quietly in the lush rolling hills of the Lucca countryside. But let's be honest here. That would just be delusional. Instead we're more akin to Alton Towers on a dull overcast summer’s day. Every article that wings its way from keyboard to blog is a rollercoaster ride of incomprehensible twists and turns; every paragraph a jaw dropping descent into madness and terror; and within about 30 seconds of starting to read it the novelty wears off. And, just like Alton towers, you have to be blootered to make it through to the finish and it usually ends up with a sudden burst of vomit.

That takes care of the obligatory rumourmill-esque nonsense at the start. At least I kept my nonsense to only one paragraphs, eh? Moving swiftly on...

...Cast your minds back a full eight months to the beginning of August. If you can, that is. For those of you who've blotted out the last few months of footballing turgidity by drowning your brain cells in endless bottles of Skittles Vodka or, failing that, any bottle of turps you can lay your hands on, allow me to refresh your memory. Shortly after the first game of the season - the 0-0 draw at home to Kilmarnock - The Paranoid Tim offered for your perusal an article entitled "Sack The Gord?" (The original article can be found here). At the time there were loud and sustained calls by some sections of the Celtic support for the head of Gordon Strachan. The article took up the issue and asked the following simple question with regards to our manager.

"Has he fucked up enough that he should be sacked?"

The answer, at that time, was a resounding no. While acknowledging that there were (some serious) concerns with WGS, The Paranoid Tim argued that a man who had delivered back to back League Titles, one each of the cups, and European progress should be allowed the chance to address those concerns and to fix the problems that existed within our team. Football managers - especially those employed at Celtic Park - should only be sacked when it becomes unequivocally clear that they are incapable of doing the job to the standards demanded. That wasn't the case at the start of this season. Sadly, I can no longer say the same. Only a matter of months on from the original article, we have finally reached that point with Gordon Strachan.

Let's make one thing clear. The conclusion that the majority of Celtic fans seem to have arrived at - that change is needed - isn't some sort of knee jerk reaction, as many in the media would have us believe. The irony of the Keevins and Walkers of this world lecturing down at us that we're wrong to demand change isn't lost on this Tim, however Paranoid he may be. These are the same hypocritical nonentities who spend every moment of their ego-driven whoremongering professional existence in hot pursuit of the latest fact, figure and opinion to cast back in the face of WGS and the Celtic support whenever it suits them. For them to now defend the man they have spent so long pulling down says as much as you need to know about these journalists and their agenda.

But neither was the conclusion arrived at due to an all encompassing hatred of Gordon Strachan, the man, or out of some notion of Strachan’s lack of "Celtic minded" credentials. To claim such would put The Paranoid Tim in the same bracket as the aforementioned hypocrites. We've defended Strachan on many an occasion, and stick by that defence. At the time it was the right thing to do. I'm sure many will disagree.

No, the reason for this Tims change of opinion is much simpler, as I'm sure it will be for the majority of the Celtic support. Over the last 14 months or so it has become increasingly apparent that we are regressing as a footballing side under the guidance of Gordon Strachan. It really is that simple. And no amount of chatter about Celtic Mindedness, Devil dogs, cans of Kestrel or fickleness hides that simple truth.

Week after week, game after game, the evidence has piled up higher than Keith Richards on a weeklong bender. Week after frustrating week, game after mind numbing game, the 'product on the park', the words and actions off it, and the growing despondency and divide amongst the support have worn down any optimism or belief that our current manager is the right man to lead us into next season. We aren't just drifting along anymore. That was last season. We're now going backwards. And the rate of regression is accelerating with each passing week.

It has taken a long time for most Celtic fans to get to the point they are now at. Sure, plenty have never wanted WGS near our beloved club. Sure, some are lashing out in exasperation at what we've witnessed over the last month. But for the majority the change has been gradual, and down to nothing more than what their own eyes have told them on pretty much any given 90 minutes of the season. It has been a long, slow erosion of confidence and optimism. And when there is no confidence or optimism left to erode then it is time for a change.

Just for the record, here is this Tims reasons for why Gordon Strachan must do the honourable thing and walk away.

Where to begin? There cannot be any doubt that since our spiral into madness in December - barring a few performances - we have been very, very poor. So poor, in fact, that if it wasn't for the big all-seated stadium and the extortionate price of the pies, I'd be convinced I was in some kind of weird 'Life on Mars' time warp complete with visions of Martin Hayes and Wayne Biggins doing their warm-up. But the problems were there for all to see long before we stumbled and stuttered our way towards Christmas.

The main gripe that The Paranoid Tim has with Gordon Strachan is purely tactical. Strachan's use of tactics - and his steadfast refusal to alter them - slots him into the big list of tactical geniuses somewhere between Alex McLeish and whoever came up with that wonderful World War I idea of walking slowly over no-man’s land towards machine-gun filled German trenches. The list of problems with Strachan’s 4-4-2 formation is longer than Pete Doherty's arrest sheet, yet the formation or instructions never change. And when Plan B is just Plan A with fresh legs, the thought occurs that either the manager doesn’t have the tactical nous to change things on the park, or he is simply too stubborn to do so. Either is unacceptable - particularly when it is apparent that Plan A simply doesn’t work.

Here is the official Paranoid Tim list of things that are wrong with our current setup. Stop me if any of this sounds familiar. The defence sits too deep; doesn't make enough tackles; continually backs off rather than going to meet the opposition; doesn't dominate in the air; is too quick to launch the ball up the park when things aren't working. The midfield backs off too much; doesn't make enough tackles; doesn't track back to follow runs; is too easy to pass round; doesn't get forward to support the attack; gives away possession too cheaply. The attackers play too far away from each other; drop back too deep to pick up the ball; don't defend from the front; don't link up in any meaningful way. All over the park there is a lack of urgency to play, a lack of movement and pace, a lack of leadership and heart. Too many players hide from their responsibility, dodge out of tackles and pass the buck. Too few players are willing to put themselves into the firing line when needed or work their socks off to support another player.

I'm sure you can probably add a few ideas of your own.

From back to front there are glaring weaknesses, obvious problems and even more obvious solutions. And they are weaknesses and problems which have been talked about and pored over for 12 months and more. Yet still we wait for the solution. Still we wait for the problems to be solved and the weaknesses to be eradicated. Still we wait for the delivery of the "fix" that Gordon Strachan has promised on many an occasion. And while we wait, the problems become more pronounced, the weaknesses more glaring, and the slide into mediocrity more rapid.

Now what you are about to read may be some kind of blasphemy akin to the time Paranoid Tim voiced the opinion that Bladerunner is nothing more than an exceptionally tedious film. But the real problem area in our side isn't the much maligned defence - though there are certainly deficiencies aplenty there. No, the real problem lies in the midfield, and much of what is wrong with our team stems from the middle of the park. Allow me to explain.

On Saturday, and for the majority of this hellish season, Celtic have played a system which employs 4 players strung across the middle of the park - two wide players hugging their touchline and two central players in the engine room. And on Saturday, as in most games, the two central midfielders failed utterly to impose themselves on the game in any kind of consistent manner. How can they? They're too busy trying cover a gap which is big enough for Derek Johstone to waddle through without anyone noticing. Matters aren’t helped when only 1 out of the 4 midfielders is capable of making any kind of telling tackle. The result of setting up the midfield in this way shouldn’t come as any surprise – we’ve been watching it for long enough; a central midfield which is incapable of providing either cover for the defence or support for attack.

All season long we've watched other teams take advantage of our weak midfield. All season long we've watched teams pass their way from inside their own half up to the edge of our box with rarely a tackle being made - the midfield either back off to the point where they're sitting right on top of the back line, or they are simply overrun, leaving the defence exposed. All season long we've watched midfielders fail to track back and follow a run, or hit an invisible barrier midway inside the opposition half instead of bursting a gut to get into the box and on the end of a cross or cut back. All season long we've watched talented midfield players struggle to make any kind of impact against players they should be able to dominate.

The truth of the matter is that it's not because our midfielders are bad players. It's simply because the system we play doesn't allow them to have any real say in the progress of a game. Jarosik, Graveson, Brown, Donati, Hartley? All of them are players who have made their mark for other clubs. All of them are players who arrived at Celtic Park with excellent reputations. All of them are players who should are more than capable of being a success in a Celtic shirt. Are we seriously meant to believe that all 5 of these players turn into duds the moment we signed them? Sorry Gord, but it doesn't work like that. Of course players often struggle to adapt to life with a new club. But when it happens to every midfielder you sign the only conclusion to be made is that it's the tactics and the instructions that are bad, not the players.

The result of all this midfield mentalness is that we rarely dominate in the midfield. As a result of this our defence is often left exposed, our front line is continually isolated and our wide players are easily marked out the game. Teams know that they can double up on McGeady or Nakamura, because they know that the space left inside won't be exploited by any Celtic midfielder. Likewise, defenders can mark our attackers safe in the knowledge that there won't be any midfielders making that late lung bursting run into the box. And opposition managers know that by throwing an extra man into the midfield, 3 inferior players can dominate 2. Our midfield’s lack of influence can be perfectly illustrated in one statistic; Our 3 main midfield players have scored a massive total of 8 goals between them this season - the last of which came 4 months ago.

Yet while the formation and instructions never change, the players certainly do. So far, in 2008, only once in 17 games has Gordon Strachan kept the same midfield for 2 consecutive games. Once. Out of 17 games. So far in 2008 we've tried just about every combination that we could have tried - Donati/Brown, Hartley/Donati, Brown/Hartley, Hartley/Robson, Robson/Donati, Hartley/Sno, Brown/Sno, Robson/Brown. Yet despite this myriad of midfield permutations, we play the same predictable formation and follow the same predictable instructions, always with the same predictable result. It doesn't matter which midfield pairing we play. While the formation and instructions remain the same, the performances will rarely change.

The truly sad thing about all this chopping and changing is that there seems to be a complete randomness about who is selected on a weekly basis. How well a player has played in previous outings seems to has little or no bearing on whether he is dropped or retains his place. At various points during this season we’ve watched Donati, Hartley and Jarosik all hit little patches of form, only to find themselves back on the bench next time out. It doesn't take a genius to work out that if your team selection is this inconsistent then performances and results will suffer.

But the problems certainly aren't confined to the midfield, however. Take the defence (please do!). Andreas Hinkle aside, our defence lacks any real quality. McManus and Caldwell are average, decent players, nothing more, nothing less. Neither is aggressive in the tackle or dominant in the air. Neither have they positional sense needed, nor the pace to get themselves out of bother when they do make a mistake. Lee Naylor has gone from a Player of the Year nominee to a player who makes us long for the days of Mo Camara haring down the wing like a gazelle on LSD. That the left back situation continues to rumble on after all this time is yet another long-rusted nail in the coffin of our manager.

Up front it's just as bad. Let's put aside Goals tallies. The truth of the matter is that despite the goals, the McDonald/Vennegor partnership simply doesn't work. Rarely do they link up to any great effect. For a partnership that has played so many games together the lack of understanding is frightening – The Paranoid Tim hasn’t seen so large a gap between two players since Didier Agathe and John Hartson raced each other for the last pie in the oven. Now maybe we're still suffering from the lingering memories of how Larsson and Sutton combined up front, but surely it isn't too much to expect that our attack can link up and play off of each other in a consistent and threatening manner.

Vennegor of Hesselink is another Strachan oddity. While Scott McDonald takes the majority of plaudits for his goals, JVoH takes the majority of the criticism. Yet the big Dutchman suffers every bit as much as our midfield or defence under the system we play. Too often he is the outlet for the long ball out of defence, or the ball into the channels for him to (try and) chase. It's a bit like asking Bobo to be your midfield maestro - it's just not his game. Get to the byeline and give him something to attack in the box and he’ll score goals. Put the ball in to his feet, with midfielders supporting, and he’ll link up play to great effect. Launch high balls up to him, and... well you know what happens. That we continually try to use JVoH in this pointless way says a hell of a lot about either the stubbornness or the tactical ineptitude of our manager.

And then there's question of Samaras. Perhaps he doesn't do enough in training, or maybe he didn't laugh at one of Gordon’s jokes. But when the regular front two are struggling for form and goals, and we have a player with the natural talent of Samaras sitting on the bench, the obvious solution would be to give him a game. It seems that obvious solutions aren't in big demand round Celtic Park these days.

We could go on and on at an ever increasing length about other problems – players being bought and not played, players being frozen out, bizarre substitutions, players being played out of position (Barry Robson at right wing???), etc, etc. If you’re still reading at this juncture then the point has probably already been made.

So where does all of this leave us? Apart from 7 points behind a very average Rangers side. Well, if you want The Paranoid Tim's view it is this. It leaves us at a crossroads in our development as a club. The PLC now has a choice to make, and it is a choice which may very well have far reaching consequences for the future of Celtic.

Should they take the easy way out, and hand Gordon Strachan another pile of cash for next season, the likelihood is that we will endure another miserable season of failure and frustration - falling further behind Rangers on the park and allowing them another year to catch up off of it. Champions League football may still be there for us, but it would be a brave man who would proclaim with any certainty that we will qualify for the group stages. And should we miss out on that then the momentum in Scottish Football will swing back in the direction of our clean-living fragrant cousins from the south side. There is another danger, however. Already the fans are voting with their feet. Attendances are dropping, the support is increasingly divided and the malcontents are back in town. Another season like this one could set Celtic back years.

But should they PLC choose to follow the difficult road by realising that a change is needed, then the optimism and confidence that has dissolved like Skittles in a bottle of vodka will quickly return to the club - bringing with it a greater chance that the momentum we've built up over the last 8 years can be maintained. There are no guarantees in football. But when it comes down to a choice between more of the same stagnant, uninspiring football, or something fresh, then there is only one winner.

Now to some of you, this may read as a Strachan bashing article that Hugh and Keith and the like would be proud of. But when the change happens, and The Paranoid Tim believes that it will, then Gordon Strachan will go with thanks for his efforts over the last few years. Despite his flaws, the wee ginger one has taken the shambles of a squad left to him by the previous manager and turned it into a team capable of winning 4 trophies in 2 year. He has also maintained our growing reputation in Europe - we are still a club able to hold its own against the finest and best the continent has to offer. Gordon Strachan will also leave with thanks for the squad we currently have - despite the failures this season, we actually have a decent squad of players - even if we don't yet have the manager who can get the best out of them.

But despite all this change is still needed. For some time now the fat lady has been heard warming up. The night we shared a goalless 90 minutes with Dundee Utd she took centre stage. Against Aberdeen in the cup she took her bow and the music started. Against Rangers last week she warbled the first few tentative notes of her song. And against Motherwell on Saturday she hit the high notes and shattered our season into a million bits.

Now I'm sure my poor little mail box will soon become as jam packed as John Hartson's stomach at the tail end of a pie eating contest - no doubt I'll soon be flooded with emails of the 'told you so' variety. There are plenty of Celtic supporters who, for one reason or another, have never taken to Gordon Strachan and who were endlessly vocal in their condemnation of the man. But just as they've stuck to their guns throughout the initial two years of success, so too will I stick to mine now, in what must surely be the final hours/days/weeks (delete where applicable) of the Strachan Era.

Gordon Strachan earned himself the right to defend the two league titles he has won as Celtic manager. He earned the right to show that last year’s poor end to the season was down to the SPL having effectively been wrapped up in record time. And he earned the right to show that the achievement of reaching the last 16 in the Champions League wasn't just a fluke. The first two seasons - 2 league titles, 2 cups, and the last 16 in Europe - gave him the right to measure himself up against the Wattie Revolution. Sadly - or happily, depending on your mindset - he has earned no such right to lead us into next season. Any success in the European theatre this season has been washed away in the sea of footballing mediocrity and spineless capitulation which have been the hallmarks of our domestic campaigns. And one cannot live on past glories. Not when it has become apparent that the past glories are unlikely to be repeated.

Hindsight is a wonderful thing. I'm sure there are plenty of you out there who disagree with much of what The Paranoid Tim has to say on anything he cares to pass comment on. But I'm absolutely sure that there can't be many who will disagree with the main premise of this jumped up piece of self-important psuedo journalism. And that premise is this. Sorry Gordon, but your time is up.

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Who would be Gary Caldwell?

Anyone who visits Celtic Park on any sort a regular basis can't possibly have helped noticing a strange new chant that has been growing in use amongst large sections of the Celtic support over the last year or so. Like all truly great footballing bastardisations of the English language, the chant is beautiful in it's simplicity; a mere two words that, while almost Swiftian in form and expression, captures perfectly the passion and anguish of the average working class footballing fan as he/she struggles (wo)manfully through that 90 minute spiritual journey they have to endure on any given Saturday.

It's not often that The Paranoid Tim is so taken by the collective mutterings of football fans that he feels compelled to pen an article for posting on his puffed up and self-important (yet barely read) little corner of cyberspace, but in this case he'll make an exception. A chant such as this is surely worth bringing to the consciousness of those not yet fortunate enough to have encountered it during their own spiritual journey of following the hoops.

With this in mind, and in the hope that the chant can be spread to all corners of every stadium in the land, here's a little guide for how to successfully join in with the latest craze around Celtic Park.

1. Take your seat in the stadium. It's best to get there early in order to ensure you don't annoy everyone around you by turning up 5 minutes late, forcing half the people on your row to stand and let you past.

2. Use the time before kick off to prepare you for the following 90 minutes. This should involve slowly building up levels of irritation and exasperation. A good method of doing this is to go for a pie (expensive, greasy AND lukewarm), or by browsing Gordon Strachan's team selection and noting with disapproval that Derek Riordan still isn't getting a game. Doing this in the presence of another supporter on the same spiritual chanting quest as yourself will speed up the process of building levels of exasperation, as will watching the footage of previous Celtic games on the screens.

3. By kick off you should be tingling with annoyance. The hairs on the back of your neck should be up and trying to have a square go with a steward. If you can keep them under control, focus your energies on being irritated that the huddle isn't what it used to be in the good old days when players knew what it meant to wear the Hoops; when they knew what it meant to do the huddle (and when they knew what it meant to go seasons at a time winning hee-haw). Channel that annoyance into your rapidly building pool of irritability.

4. The start of the game is vital, and you must remain completely focused on the task at hand. Use the first few minutes wisely. Late arrivals who force the people in the seats in front of you to stand, blocking your view of another ball being launched up towards big Jan, can be used to increase the sourness of your mood. Particularly if they have a pie and coke. Mutter under your breath, but remain focused. Should Celtic score an early goal, join in the celebrations, but never lose sight of the fact that you had twenty quid on Brown to score the first goal and that wee bastard McDonald has done you out of a pile of cash.

5. And now for the chant. It can come at any time, so you have to be prepared to join in as and when it happens. Signs to look out for, which may herald an imminent eruption of the chant, include the following; Celtic losing a goal, or being behind at any stage in a match; The opposition keeping the ball from our bewildered midfield for more than 10 seconds; Celtic being unable to keep possession for 3 passes; Celtic not being ahead at any point after 10 minutes; the ball being passed towards our number 5. Should any of these conditions arise the chant can start

Furfuxsake Caldwell!

Listen to it ring round the stadium, and, should you feel brave enough, join in!

Okay, so we're being a little silly. But there is a serious point in amongst all that guff that you've just had to read through. Sure it's buried away deep inside endless lines of nonsense, but I'm sure if you look hard enough you can perhaps see the jist of an argument staring back at you with a rabid, frenzied glare last seen on Iain Ferguson's fizzog that time someone tried to explain Calculus to him.

But for those of you who skipped all that excess wordage, here is the point. There are an alarming number of Celtic fans who seem to want nothing better than to watch certain Celtic players fail while wearing the Hoops. There are an alarming number of 'supporters' who spend their 90 minutes on a Saturday watching and waiting for certain Celtic players to make a mistake that gives them a chance to jump all over the players back. And there are an alarming number of Celtic supporters who will do this week in, week out, regardless of how the player in question is actually playing.

Currently, Celtic have two whipping bhoys. Evander Sno is spared much of it because he barely plays. But he only has to appear from the dugout for the murmurs to start. Gary Caldwell, on the other hand, has to endure 90 minutes of moans and murmurs and furfuxsakeCaldwells every time he takes to the field.

Now the following opinion may be controversial to some of you. What I'm about to say may be some sort of footballing blasphemy along the lines of Dylan going electric, but I'll say it anyway. Gary Caldwell is not the worst player ever to pull on the Hoops. He isn't even the worst player in our current squad. Gary Caldwell is actually a decent, solid (if average) footballer.

There. I've said it. Deep breathe. Take a second to ponder that, all you Furfuxsake Caldwell! chanters. Allow the thought to permeate into your consciousness and let it gently simmer there while I explain why I think such blasphemous thoughts.

I'll take last nights match against Falkirk as an example. Caldwell had a good game. He wasn't spectacular, but then he never is. No one is suggesting that he's any kind of Cafu while playing at Right Back. But boy does he put in a good shift. For 90 minutes last night he worked the right hand side from box to box, always making himself available, never hiding from a pass, always willing to provide an outlet and offer support where needed. For 90 minutes he played good balls down the line for Scott McDonald to run on to, usually following up his own pass to provide support. And while others in the team are content to launch the high ball up the park whenever possible, Caldwell usually looked for feet, or for the run, or for the simple pass out of a tight situation. Defensively, he made one vital block that kept the scoreline at 1-0, and provided good cover throughout the 90 minutes.

Yet despite this, come the 75th minute he played a poor pass straight to a Falkirk player and it started. Furfuxsake Caldwell! 3-0 against a team down to 10 men, he's barely put a foot wrong all night, and still it happens.

Now I'm not saying for a minute that Gary Caldwell was man of the match. But he did have a good, solid game. And that's usually what you get from him. Rarely spectacular, but in the same light, rarely dreadful - yet more blasphemy, I'm sure. He's had his bad moments, true. People still talk about his performance in Lisbon last season when he did indeed have a very poor 90 minutes. But what is less mentioned is that up until that night Caldwell had been playing well. He had made a decent start to his Celtic career. After Lisbon he clearly lost a bit of confidence and struggled until he picked up the injury that kept him out for over 3 months. By the time he came back Celtic players were dreadful en masse.

More recently, he gave away a stupid unnecessary penalty that led to 2 dropped points at Tynecastle. It was a stupid, reckless challenge that didn't need to be made. Criticism merited. But again, it's conveniently forgotten that the Hearts game was sandwiched in between two vital European games against Shaktar and Milan, and, at the risk of being blasphemous once more, Caldwell acquitted himself very well in both of those games.

Against St Mirren at the weekend he didn't play particularly well, but then against St Mirren at the weekend who did play well? Are we to beat a guy with a stick for having a poor game when everyone else on the park was just as bad? The truly infuriating thing about the abuse Caldwell receives is that he's not only playing out of position, he also works his ass off for 90 minutes of any given game and never tries to hide no matter how bad he or the team may be playing.

Yet still he is greeted with a chorus of Furfuxsake Caldwell! whenever a pass goes astray, or he misses a tackle or he fails to skip past 4 players and rifle one into the top corner from 20 yards. Worse, listen as whoever has the ball turns and rolls it out to our makeshift Right Back and you'll usually hear a muttering of Whit yeh passen tae him fur!. He hasn't even got the ball yet and 'supporters' are having a go at him. Usually the ball is being passed to him because he's the only player who's bothered to put himself into a position receive the pass, but hey, I suppose it's easier to have a go at a player than consider that.

The irony of the Caldwell debate is that there are, amongst his critics, people who would play Bobo Balde ahead of him. For those of you too young to remember, Bobo is an internationally recognised bomb threat of a defender - so much so that the US military have drawn up contingency plans to abduct and secure him should there be any danger of him falling into the hands of Al-Qaeda.

Gary Caldwell is no right back. He's a short term stop-gap playing in a position he clearly isn't comfortable playing in. Hopefully we can solve that problem in the January transfer window, but until then we're stuck with the problem. We rightly moaned when Petrov was continually played on the right by MON. We still do it when Strachan plays Brown out wide. And in doing so we give those players the benefit of the doubt when they turn in a poor performance - because they aren't playing in their natural position. It's about time we give the same benefit of the doubt to Gary Caldwell. And it's about time we give him the credit he's due for sticking to the task despite all the criticism he has to endure each week.

I'll finish by leaving you some questions to ponder for homework. Who is more deserving of criticism? A player playing out of position, who puts in 100% effort and makes the most of his limited talent? The manager who continually plays the player out of position? Or a player with natural ability and talent who puts in 50% effort and who's contribution to the cause is way below what could be expected of him? It seems to The Paranoid Tim that there are people at Celtic Park more deserving of criticism than Gary Caldwell.

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Celtic And The Art Of Self-Flagellation

Another day, another defeat. Actually, another 5 days and another two defeats if you want to get pernickity on ol' Paranoid Tim, but we know you're all too busy drowning sorrows and trying to avoid bumping into blue-nosed neighbours to be concerned about something like that.

Let's run through that one again. Another two defeats. In five days. The first to a 'crap' Rangers team. The second to a 'crap' Benfica team. And already the Internet is heaving under the strain of thousands of self-proclaimed footballing academics, only too willing to tell us where it all went wrong for the Hoops and how we can fix it. (Never see Paranoid Tim doing something like that)

But just where DID it all go wrong? No, I'm not talking tactics or team selection or whatever. I want to know what happened to the wave of post-Milan optimism that swept the green and white corner of internetland only a few short weeks ago? You remember? Message boards were crammed full of predictions of how we would go to Ibrox and put Wattie and the Horde back in their place. Then we would travel to Benfica and get our first away win in the Champions League - if Shaktar can do it, so can we. The league was going to be won and the last 16 still beckoned. Ring any bells?

Look at us now. A couple of defeats and our optimism and self-belief vanishes quicker than a plate of pies in the Clyde studio. A couple of defeats and we're languishing in a miserable cess pit of self-flagellation and online woe-is-me. There are guys in Hoops walking down Argyle Street carrying placards that read "The End Of The Season Is Nigh!". How the hell did this happen?

Let's get straight to the crux of the matter here. We lost a couple of games. In the great scheme of things neither defeat was a disaster. Yes, our weekend showing at Ibrox was utterly inept. We deserved to lose. The better team won on the day. But the Glasgow Derby is like that. One team can have a good day while the other has a bad day. When that happens the scoreline can show a gulf in class which doesn't exist anywhere outside of that particular 90 minutes. That's why Jo Venglos' team were able to hammer Dick Advocaat's dream team 5-1.

Yes, we put up a good fight in Lisbon and, yes, it was cruel to lose the late goal. But again the better team won, and again, these things happen in Europe. Listen to the doom and gloom brigade, however, and we blew our best ever chance to win away from home in the Champions League. Anyone who believes that obviously doesn't remember our horror show in Anderlecht a few years back when we lost to a team who played over an hour with 10 men.

So, yes. Paranoid Tim is gutted at the loss, and more in the manner of the loss. But there are signs this year that the lesson is being learned and that sometime soon we'll get European monkey off our back. We were horsed in Lisbon this time last year. Last night we were a handful of minutes away from getting a decent point. Sure, we rode our luck. But at this level even the mighty Barca and Milan have to ride their luck to get a result away from home.

If you read back to the 2nd paragraph, the word 'crap' appears a couple of times to describe our last two opponents - just like that, surrounded by quotes. Now, I don't think we're pushing the boat of credulity out too far to suggest that neither Benfica or Rangers any great footballing shakes. I'm not sure anyone would expect either of them to progress very far in the Champions League. But, and this might be hard for some of you to admit, neither are they teams we should be over confident about beating away from home. Because, when all is said and done, we aren't so great a team ourselves.

So perhaps that is where the real problems lie - With ourselves, our expectations, and our tendency to get carried away when things are going well. And just as we shouldn't get too carried away with scoring 5 against Hearts or beating AC Milan, neither should we be too despondent when we lose to Rangers or Benfica. Because if watching football for the last 25 years has taught Paranoid Tim one thing it is this; the highs are never as high as you think they are, and the lows are never low as the Daily Record would have you believe.

Keep the faith.

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No fight, No class, No pride, No clue and No points

We've witnessed a few Celtic-Rangers games in our time, here at The Paranoid Tim. More than a few. And in that time we've seen the good, we've seen the bad, and, yeh, we remember Terry Hurlock too. Victories, defeats, draws; end to end rollercoasters with last minute winners, dull goalless borefests that should have been stopped after 15 minutes on health and safety grounds; Great refereeing performances, men in black who were out to win themselves a years worth of free booze from their local lodge; tactical genius, tactical suicide. We've seen it all in our time, and we've long since figured out that losing a game against the Dark Side from across the city shouldn't bring life to a shuddering halt. Paranoid Tim will wake up tomorrow, shake off any hangover, and go about life as normal. Today, however, we'll indulge in a little footballing commentary.

Looking back on a lifetime of supporting Celtic, today's result is a drop in the ocean. We were there during the dark days of the late 80's and early 90's when we watched Billy McNeil's sieve through the cracks in our fingers, always with spare underwear and a sense of footballing dread. We were there during Watties first glorious reign, where a succession of Celtic managers arrived with promises of better times and left with their tail between their legs - outmanouvered and outspent by the Dave & Walter show. Hell, we still remember vaguely that dark day when the Celtic fans had a whip round for Hugh Dallas' new double glazing and our club imploded spectacularly and embarrassingly in front of a watching nation. We remember a lot of bad days. Today was another bad day.

Let's get one thing clear, however. Today wasn't a bad day because we lost. Paranoid Tim's motto of footballing life is that you win some, you lose some. And as long as you win more than the other teams, you take home the shiny metal things when you run out of games to play. And as already chronicled, we've witnessed our share of defeats in the Glasgow derby and we're sure we'll witness a few more before we shuffle off to the great football stadium in the sky.

So no, today wasn't a bad day because we lost. Today was a bad day because we lost in such a spineless manner. Today was a bad day because we were tactically outclassed by a manager who only knows how to play the game one way. Today was a bad day because we made a poor Rangers team look like a great Rangers team. For those 3 reason, today was a bad day.

"Isn't any defeat to Rangers a bad day!", I hear some of you cry. Well yes. But there are bad days, and then there area BAD DAYS. No one is saying that we should be glad of losing to our rivals from the South Side. What we are saying, however, is that if we are going to lose to Rangers we should at least make them earn their victory - our players should be trudging wearily from the field knowing that they gave their all for the cause. That didn't happen today.

And If we are going to lose to Rangers then our manager should be able to look at himself in his specially lowered mirror and tell himself that his tactics and team selection were the right tactics and team selection for the game. Or that if they weren't then he tried everything he could to fix them. That didn't happen today.

And if we are going to lose to Rangers then I expect our players to have fought for 90 minutes, never giving up, never lying down, and never forgetting that there are hundreds of thousands of people around the world contributing hard earned money to their vastly overpaid existence as a professional footballer. That didn't happen today.

What did happen today was a pathetic, toothless, passionless and tactically inept display, the like of which hasn't been witnessed for a long time. From first kick to last Celtic were second best. From the first shrill blast of Mike McCurry's whistle, Gordon Strachan was outfoxed by Walter Smith. And for 90 infuriating minutes only one team showed the kind of commitment, passion, hunger and tactical nous to win three points. And as much as it pains me to say it, that team was Rangers.

So. Another bad day. Paranoid Tim will add it to the list. I'm sure there are many more still to come, just as there will be plenty of good days to help us forget the bad. But the hope is that it will be a long time before we encounter a display as pathetic and disgraceful as the one we witnessed today.

No fight, no class, no pride in the shirt, no clue and no points.

Roll on hangover.

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Sack The Gord?

The more things change, the more they stay the same. Or so we're told by people far smarter than the average Scottish football fan. Hell, let's be honest here, anyone stupid enough to pay £25 to watch 90 minutes of the unadulterated pish that passes for top level football in this country can't be the sharpest tool in the box. Don't know why I still do it.

So here we are, 90 minutes into a new season, and already our manager is facing calls for his head. Another 90 minutes of dross, another 90 minutes without goals, and another 90 minutes of baffling tactical decisions that leave 90% of the fans scratching their heads in disbelief and wondering why Paul Hartley is still on the park. Only 90% of fans though. The other 10% have left early or gone for a pie.

Tune into any of the radio phone-in's that masquerade as in-depth footballing analysis in this country and the message is the same. Sack The Gord! Browse your way through 18 pages of Celtic Minded internet message board threads and you'll find that buried away amongst all those mind numbing posts about your favourite sweeties when you were a wean, or which TV celebrity would have her face left like a painters radio if you only got the chance, there is a consistent message. Sack the Gord! The Orcs must be laughing up their sleeves at us. Assuming their sleeves haven't yet been flogged by their chairman on Ebay.

Now here at Paranoid Tim we don't believe in sacking managers lightly. If a manager is to be set free to roam the high seas of footballing unemployment we expect him to have fucked up in a major way. If we're wanting to put our old ticker through those heart stopping moments of the club being linked with managerial diddies like Bryan Robson or Ruud Gullit then we require first that said heart stopping moments are preferable to what was on offer from the managerial diddy we've just got shot of. And that, dear reader, is the question to be answered. Does Gordon Strachan really fall into this category?

Are we at the moment yet when being linked with Glen Hoddle is preferable to wearing a neck brace from watching a Lou Macari inspired Celtic side? Have we reached the point where the rumour of Dave Bassett in charge at Celtic Park is a more attractive option than watching John Barnes trying to convince all and sundry that he really does know what he's doing? I don't think so. But what do I know?

We're now in our third term with the wee ginger one at the helm. Six domestic trophies have come and gone. Celtic have claimed four of them. Back to back league titles, one each of the cups. In Europe, our first season catastrophe in Bratislava was followed up by a second season run to the last 16. It hasn't always been pretty, but then football never is. Some of the best football I've witnessed as a Celtic fan came under Liam Brady's tenure. The same Liam Brady who failed to pick up a single trophy in the time it's taken WGS to win four. Tommy Burns packed his team with talent and played free flowing football that could be a joy to watch. He won a single Scottish Cup. And even that was won over 90 minutes of the type of football last seen during a game of Emylyn Hughes International Soccer on the ZX Spectrum. It was also won before most of the talent arrived.

No, I'm not saying that we can only win by playing a poor style of football. Yes, I am dissappointed in the dross we're having to endure. But the point is this. Trophies are won by winning games, not by how you play. And WGS has delivered a side that has won games and, with them, trophies.

That isn't to say that Paranoid Tim thinks all is rosy in the Strachan garden. Far from it. There are concerns there, and some serious ones at that. For a start, the wee man has a very patchy record in the transfer market.

Of his first season signings, only Boruc and Nakamura have done the business consistently. Mark Wilson has been unfortunate with injuries and should develop into a decent fullback, while Zurawski can still offer a lot to the hoops - if he can stay fit and regain his confidence. Of the rest, Keane and Dublin were short term deals to fill gaps. Telfer did a decent job when allowed to, while Du Wei, Camara and Virgo will probably be names forever mentioned in the same breath as Scheidt and Martin Hayes. And did we actually sign someone called Aliadiere or was that just a fleeting dream? Giving Strachan the benefit of the doubt on Dublin, who is a "does what it says on the tin" kind of player, there's a success rate of about 60%.

Season two, however, is a completely different story. Jarosik, Gravesen and Miller are already cast into the flames of flop-hell. Hartely, Riordan and Pressley look like following. Gary Caldwell was unlucky with his injury. He had a consistent start to the season, but was hauled over the coals for one bad game in Portugal. Sno has potential. Brown is backup to Boruc. Of all last seasons signings, only Naylor and JVoH made any kind of real impact. Even with Sno included as a success, the majoriy of our new players contributed little to the cause.

And so onto this season. It's clearly too early to comment on the signing of Donati, McDonald, Brown and Killen, but there are signs there that they can each contribute to the coming season. Then again, I did say that about Gravesen and the like. Overall, WGS has a pretty poor record in the transfer market. For every Boruc, there seems to be a Virgo. For every Nakamura, a Gravesen.

The result of all this transfer activity is another source of concern. We now have a bloated squad the like hasn't been seen since the Dick Advocaat "one team for Europe, another for the SPL" era. You remember? Back in 2000/01? All those sad media hacks telling us how Celtic were doomed. Rangers...ascendency...5 years behind...superior squad...etc. Cue Celtic strolling to an easy title, while it all fell apart across the city. Ring a bell?

WGS has indeed assembled a strong squad. We could field a team consisting of Mark Brown, Gary Caldwell, Darren O'Dea, Steven Pressley, Bobo Balde, Thomas Gravesen, Evander Sno, Jari Jarosik, Derek Riordan, Chris Killen and Kenny Miller and only one of them could possibly be considered a first team choice. And we're not even sure about him anymore. This doesn't even include the youngsters who are banging at the door, awaiting there chance. We've some of the most talented youngsters in the country. Are they going to get their chance with this size of squad?

Competition for places is a good thing. Having so many players sitting on the bench or in the stands week in week out is not. Some of these guys are sucking vasts amounts of money out of our club and contributing little in return. The squad needs trimmed, and quickly. We've still a few weeks to bring in new players, but we can't possibly do that without getting rid of the deadwood already there. Unless, of course, its some cover for the full backs. Having only one full back for each side isn't considered good practice, Gordon.

The other major concern is tactical. We've had two seasons of our 4-4-2 formation and while we've won two league titles with it, the problems are there for all to see. Page 67 of the 'Big Book of Tactics' clearly states that if you want to stifle Celtic all you need to do is find a couple of pluke-laden teenagers from your youth setup to double up on McGeady and Nakamura and you're sorted. It doesn't take any real tactical genius to work that one out. Of course that leaves any team employing this tactic a bit short in the middle, but that isn't really a problem anymore in this post-Stan Petrov era. Official stats from last season show that Celtic managed to get central midfielders into the opposing teams box on only three ocassions. And two of them were Neil Lennon waddling up to argue with the ref.

Now, it could well be that the signing of Scott Brown will solve this particular problem. He's a player who likes to burst forward into the box and pick up on the scraps. But then so is Paul Hartley. Perhaps we can solve this problem with our new midfield. Donati's passing gives us something we've been lacking for a long time - a midfielder with a bit of vision and the ability to make a killer pass. Combined with Browns running and willingness to get forward, and the flair of Nakamura and McGeady, there is the making of a decent midfield unit that should be able to cause any team problems. We didn't see it against Killie, but it's early days yet.

I'm assuming of course that Donati doesn't get subbed ahead of people who are contributing nothing each week.

One final issue with our tactics. This is an old gripe, and one that's been used against many a manager over the last few decades of following Celtic. Now, perhaps I'm not the footballing experts that the likes of Strachan and O'Neil and McNeil and Venglos and the rest are, but it seems to be self evident that you get the best out of a player when you play him in his correct position. There's no point in buying, say, Paul Hartely - a noted attacking central midfielder - and deploying him down the right, or even worse, in the Neil Lennon role as we saw yesterday. He's an attacking midfielder. His strength is getting forward into the box, not standing on the halfway line stroking his beard while play rages on around him. Similarlly, Jiri Jarosik will never be a forward. Ever. Give it up. Gary Caldwell isn't a right back and Darren O'Dea will never make a left back. Oh and Ross Wallace. I know you've punted him, but Harold Brattback made a more convincing wingback than Ross did left back. Just thought I'd mention it Gordon.

The last problem I have with our small Ginger leader is motivation. It has become increasingly apparent that our manager is having trouble motivating his players. Whether this is down to problems within the dressing rooms (perhaps because we have a massively bloated squad?) or that he simply lacks the ability to fire the players up for the game I don't know. What I do know is that the guff I watched last season, and the guff I watched yesterday, is not good enough. There is a lack of urgency to Celtics play. And lack of passion. And this is mirrored by a lack of passion in the Stands. The atmosphere in the ground yesterday was dreadful for a flag day at Celtic Park. People are turning up because they've already paid for their season ticket, not because they're excited about the footballing feast on offer. And this lack of passion is what may prove to be our downfall this season. You don't have to be any kind of tactical genius to win the SPL. All you need to be able to do is motivate your players. And on this score Wattie is far ahead of Strachan.

So where does this leave us? We've a manager who's won back to back league titles, 4 trophies in two seasons, taken us to the last 16 of the Champions League and yet still the calls come for him to be sacked. Outside of Madrid, where else would this happen? And Where do these calls come from? The issues I've already mentioned contribute, I'm sure. But there is also a sizeable and vocal section of our support who have NEVER wanted Strachan at the club - for whatever reason - and who will continue to oppose his tenure as our manager regardless of how many league trophies the small ginger one delivers.

But the question remains. Are we at the stage where booting Strachan is preferable to being linked managerially to Bryan Robson or Terry Venables? Is it so obvious that our season is a write off that we're better off just making the change now? Has he fucked up enough that he should be sacked?

Nowhere near it.

Yes there are issues with Strachan and the crap we're having to endure on the pitch. But surely a man who has won back to back titles deserves the chance to defend his title and to fix the problems that exist. Are we so fickle now that a draw on the first day of the season is sufficient reason for sacking a manager? We're in for a long hard season if that is the case. We may be in for one anyway, but those in charge of our dressing room at least deserve the chance to prove the naysayers wrong.

For what it's worth, here at The Paranoid Tim we have some very serious concerns over WGS as manager, and we don't believe that our current manager will still be in the East End of Glasgow come the start of season 2008/09. There is a growing momentum against him that will not stop until he has left the club, rightly or wrongly. But that's just my opinion. Let's wait and see how this season unfolds before we get the placards out and trudge wearily, once again, towards our favourite spot in the Car Park. Because three things are for certain. Rangers are no great team. Walter Smith is no great manager. And if we don't win the league this year it will be down to us, and us alone. Always the Hoops.

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SPL Record Breakers

After the recent high profile win over Dunfermline and how it was an SPL record, i thought surely we must have broken some more records since the beginning of the SPL. After a quick search on scotprem.com i found that we have indeed notched up nine (10 if you count the two biggest wins).

This is truly a magnificent achievement considering we were accused of having an aging squad, a club in crisis and also a one man team. We have lost 2 important figures, Larsson and O'Neill, but our future looks bright with Lennox Castle being introduced as our new Youth Complex and our new manager appearing to know how to attack (hopefully he can sort out the defending part!). We have seen a dismal performance in Europe cost us some glorious nights but let's see what a year on can do for the team. If we get as 'fortunate' a run as Rangers got, only having to win once, then who knows where we could end up!

Oh, and the last record surprised me as well!!

SPL - All Time Records

Most goals in a season:

Celtic, 105 goals 2003/04

Most points in any one season:

Celtic, 103 points 2001/02

Fewest goals conceded in any one season:

Celtic, 18 goals 2001/02

Biggest goal difference in any one season:

Celtic, 80 2003/04

Biggest Wins:

Celtic, 8-1 vs. Dunfermline (19/2/06), Celtic, 7-0 vs. Aberdeen (16/10/99 and 2/11/02)

Top Goalscorer in any one Season:

Henrik Larsson, 35 goals 2000/01

All-time SPL Top Goalscorer:

Henrik Larsson, 158 goals 1998-2004

Player with most Hat Tricks:

Henrik Larsson, 12

Most Consecutive Shut Outs:

Rab Douglas, 7 games (16/12/00 - 21/2/01)

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Will the ghost of Larsson be laid to rest?

Filling the boots of Celtic’s greatest post war scorer and a legendary hero to fans all over the world is no easy task. A Brazilian world cup winner was given the famous no 7 jersey but ultimately the burden was too much for him. A man with a similar first name and a decent pedigree also seemed incapable of dealing with the pressure. Of course the usual questions were asked and the usual responses rolled off the tongues as if rehearsed “I’m not Henrik Larsson, I’m here to be my own man” blah blah blah.

Let’s not get carried away, but the return to the side of Magic Zurawski has given the team the impetus and drive that was missing as we looked to bury the memories of last season’s final day capitulation. He has now scored in all but one of his comeback games and has been on target no less than 10 times in 7 starts and a sub apearance. After a slow beginning to his career in Scotland as he struggled to settle into a new strike partnership, a new team and a new country, the usual mutterings began. Was he good enough, was it a waste of £2m? Slowly but surely he began to find his feet, scoring a couple at Dunfermline before going on a decent spell of form. This was sadly cut short as a hamstring injury on International duty kept him out for all but 2 games between October & December.

A scoring, cameo performance during the ill-fated defeat at Clyde was to mark his return to the side and a remarkable run of form as his energy and movement was rewarded. This culminated in the winning goal in an Old Firm derby and a 4 goal spree at a Pars side who had somehow managed to kept a clean sheet at Parkhead. What was good to see on Sunday, was the beginnings of an understanding being developed between Hartson & Zurawski. Hartson’s goal came from following up a Zurawski shot while Magic himself can thank BBJ for two of his own tally.

I have always been impressed by Zurawski’s effort and mobility up front, but on Sunday his effortless close control and accurate finishing were to the fore (pardon the pun!) His first goal was a delight as he quickly pounced on a through ball and slotted it into the far corner with a devestating left-footed finish. But in truth, each goal was characterised by the same knack of quickly bringing a difficult ball under control and finding the farthest corner of the net. If Magic can retain this form, the adoring Celtic legions may have found themselves another hero to cheer.

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