Saturday 19th November versus Rangers

A Blast from the past with an eye on the future!

Estadio is here and still spending far too much time reading this mysterious concoction of personalities, wits, intellectuals, comedians, poets, and even the odd Rangers man (you are a good man Edward) on this ‘forum of forii’ that is ‘Celticquicknews’.

Apart from a couple of minor little contributions of lightweight interludes I have merely watched in utter amazement as Paul67’s already incomparable blog has been subjected to the mystically cosmic influence of Wallace and Darwin! (As opposed to other blogs which tend to be influenced more by Wallace and Grommit!)

From a wide ranging accidental mixture of opinionated nutrients, real-time natural selection has driven the evolution of those who have entered this cyberspace into a true primordial essence of a crying, talking, sleeping, walking, living (sorry Cliff) thriving community.

The enigma that is Celticquicknews is the epitome of intelligent adaptation. It has outlived and outgrown all weaker mutations and has gradually metamorphosed into a collection not just of words and variegated notes, but into an orchestrated performance of rhyme and rhythm culminating in the soaring crescendo of a Celtic Symphony.

There is still the occasional contribution which, like the appendix, doesn’t actually serve any purpose in a healthy body, but unless it gets really troublesome we might as well ignore it.

As the saying goes … Carlsberg don’t do blogs, but if they did Celticquicknews would surely be….

And so to Celtic and the sad labyrinth of an apology for my cerebellum!

Since my last insubstantial musings in early October and my at times totally ridiculed vision of the potential magnificence of the Gordon Strachan vista, I have observed at close quarters the emergence of a seamless pattern of styles, skills, coaching, and abilities from 1st all the way through the feeder teams of the Bhoys of the future.

At last we have a progression of sides that not only play in the same fashion, enjoy themselves in doing so, know how they fit into the grand scheme of thinking, and because of this they also know what they have to strive for and achieve if they are to hit the bulls-eye of their own ambition.

Crucially not only can the legends of the future see that skill and effort will be rewarded, but the heroes of today can correspondingly see that their name no longer guarantees the honour of being chosen to wear the hoops.

There is now in place a Jacob’s ladder of progression leading to the realisation of a generation of dreams; and all without the tabloid acclaimed 10 years of competitive edge that has failed to materialise from the playing fields of Milngavie.

As an aside, while I would not dream of interfering in the confusion and pain that must surely be troubling our blue blooded adversaries in the rat runs of Edmiston drive, I would suggest that they ask themselves one simple question.

Would they prefer a great set of tools wielded by a bunch of journeymen jack’s of all trade, or a lesser set of tools brandished by master craftsmen?

I know my answer, and I think I know what theirs would be now.

I really believe that this culture of succession is one that no other team in the UK can claim parity with!

But, there is one unique component that gives such monumental strength to the foundation of this new dynasty, and that is us; we the Celtic Supporters!

We are now seeing what we have waited for many years to see again. Another delivery through the doors of Quality Street.

We should be standing, swaying, and singing to the rafters, arias in praise of the fruits of the labour of Tommy Burns, Willie McStay, and Kenny McDowell.

Emerging into the spotlight we now have Steven McManus, Shaun Maloney, Aiden McGeady, Ross Wallace, Craig Beattie, David Marshall, Paul Lawson, and Gary Irvine – not as stop gap alternatives, but as genuine competitors and claimants to first picks.

Soon there will be more! (and God willing John Kennedy!)

Half a squad has been replaced and not one of the new Bhoys was a last minute panic buy.

Maciej, Artur, Paul, Mo, Adam, and Shunsuke have all been blended into a versatile squad of players.

When everyone is fit, 5 of those players are first picks, along with Neil, Chris, Bobo, and Stan, Shaun and Stephen – a true mix of youth and experience and old and new.

But look at the bench! Craig, John, Adam, Stephen P, Didier, Adam, David, Alan, Paul, Ross – every single one not only capable of starting but every single one who would (Adam possibly excepted) be welcomed into their respective position!

BTW I suggest for those who still think that Adam is carrying a lot of weight, that they should have a good look. They will see an imposing man built on muscle desperate for his chance. He is one for the future!

With one ‘first pick’ exception I think we have chanted everyones name.

The exception is Mr Consistency – Paul Telfer.

Let’s put that right on Saturday!

If 6 months ago I had been promised that no more than the above would have been achieved then I would have said that the phoenix would be flapping its wings in readiness of its escape from the ashes of last season, and that the efforts of Gordon Strachan could be regarded as highly successful.

But that isn’t all.

Not only do we have complimentary cogs and wheels throughout the club, but the well oiled machine they make up is playing once more as in MON’s first 3 seasons, the sweetest of ‘Celtic Way’ football.

But there is more!

We’re top of the league!

We’re 12 points clear of the Smurfs.

From the desponds of nightmarish Bratislava, through the dungeons of Fir park, we have gradually passed and moved, chipped and headed, spun and weaved our way to a present of short term hope but certainly a future of long-term breathtakingly brilliant choreographed fitba’ reveries.

For God’s sake, let’s get behind the wee man, let’s get behind every single green and white gladiator, let’s cast off the shackles of doubt and let’s announce to the world that ‘work in progress’ we may be, but the work is great and the progress is even greater.

The fans of the future are there as well!

A few weeks back I got myself along to the Pearly Gates and stood in line with 5,000 real kids and perhaps 200 slightly older weans for what was publicised as the ‘Open day’.

The training moves and routines would have looked absolutely stunning if they could have been viewed from above as 4 or 5 groups of four or five players each moved in synchronicity as the ball flitted between head and knee and foot and was then flicked on to the next link in the chain.

The skills displayed were magnificent and would have graced any circus.

Magnetically it held our attention because we knew that this was no staged mirage! For Gordon Strachan was there as both ringmaster and lion tamer, directing the show and cracking the whip.

This was a demonstration of the skills which would breed the touch, sharpen the vision, speed the thought, and drive the culture of harmony within the dressing room and the essential identification between ‘those who pay and those who play’ (copyright MON) in a future that I hope I live to see.

I really am jealous but already proud of the great Celtic teams and great Celtic supporters of the future!

There will be stumbles along the way certainly; there will be moments of doubt in our minds because that is our nature; there may even be dissatisfaction about the speed with which we progress for therein lies the fire of our ambition.

But that fire burns nowhere more brightly than in the eyes and heart of Gordon Strachan, in the dreams and souls of players who came not as heroes but as questions writ large and who had to provide answers and provide them quickly.

I think that they have justified there own belief through their own unfailing efforts and the master coaching of GS, and not always with our support!

Just think what this team could achieve with 53,000 Celtic Supporters, faithful through and through, walking beside them on Saturday, kicking every ball, making every pass, applauding every move, and like a real family willing them on through the bad times. And then as we harness the echoes of James McGrory, Paul McStay, Johnstone, Murdoch, Chalmers, Auld and Hay, we will not be the twelfth man; we will be the twelfth, the thirteenth, the fourteenth, all the way up to the twenty second man on that park.

This is our chance to contribute not just in the pounds and pence of mammon to our club, our Celtic, but to pump blood through the sinews and muscles, to fill the lungs with air and the legs with a bottomless pit of energy and power, to electrify the heart and hone each mind, and in a unstoppable tsunami of will, belief and unparalleled support, to blow the nasty trolls back over the Clyde’s rickety rackety bridge to lick each other’s festering sores and wounds.

Hail Hail

See you on Saturday

Estadio