Don’t let drama distract you from the REAL crisis
NO ASTERISK required. It sounds like a bad Phil Collins album. It’s also a description that should — yet inevitably won’t — be applied to Celtic’s ninth consecutive title.
Ally McCoist was clearly being mischievous by declaring that Neil Lennon’s season 2019-20 Scottish champions will always ‘have an asterisk’ next to their name in the record books.
Just as Peter Lawwell was deliberately tweaking a few noses when, in response to Monday’s unanimous vote finalising league standings, the Parkhead chief executive declared: ‘No one can deny how deserved this title is’.
No one? Yes, because Scottish football is known the world over for its ability to bury old arguments and move forward with a united sense of purpose.
Professional comics talk about the importance of ‘knowing the room’ when trying out material.
Well, in our particularly noisy padded cell, there isn’t a great deal of ecumenical agreement on anything of note.
Just to cite one trivial example, there are Celtic fans who insist — hilariously — on referring to Rangers exclusively by using the name of a holding company born in the summer of 2012.
Or take, for instance, yesterday’s announcement that the SFA won’t be pursuing charges against Rangers in connection with the awarding of a European License in 2011. Cue howls of outrage from all sides.
Ibrox diehards complain that this unjustified shadow of impropriety had been hanging over them for far too long.
Yes, the SFA are only dropping the whole bogus case to divert attention from… well, to be honest, who could be bothered diving that far down the darkest Twitter timelines?
At last year’s Celtic AGM, incidentally, there were 2.5 million — that’s TWO-AND-A-HALF MILLION — votes cast in favour of reporting the SFA’s handling of this issue to either UEFA or the City of London Police.
As you shake your head over Ann Budge’s latest threat of legal action, be aware that nobody in Scottish football has a monopoly on going over the top.
So Lawwell, Lennon and everyone else involved in this week’s Zoom celebrations know exactly how the Light Blue legions will respond to their moment of unbridled joy. The absence of fans notwithstanding, Celtic’s head coach will probably be disappointed if there a ‘witty’ banner about 8.75 in a row — or something of that ilk — on prominent display for his team’s first visit to Ibrox next season.
As for whether Lennon and his players will be remotely bothered by the opinion of rivals once again left behind when it mattered most, well, what do you think?
For those footballers, the worst has already happened. In being denied the chance to secure a historic ninth consecutive title in front of their own fans, they arguably top the list of those most ‘cheated’ by having the season curtailed.
Not that anything about the current situation is ideal, of course. Nor is a significant chunk of it even remotely fair — as clubs like Partick Thistle, Falkirk, Stranraer, Kelty and Brora will testify.
When considering the complaints both justified and frivolous, however, it’s probably worth remembering that the greatest injustices done in the name of the SPFL will soon rank about 183rd on Scottish football’s list of pressing concerns.
Because, although it was easily overlooked on such a busy day, Aberdeen chairman Dave Cormack’s sneaky little revelation on Monday afternoon is worth revisiting.
According to Cormack, a member of the Joint Response Group’s influential Broadcasting and Innovation task force, clubs have been told to plan for closed-door games until 2021.
Imagine the impact of that new reality not merely on supporters, but on players forced to perform in an alien environment.
Consider, too, the financial disaster about to befall our national sport.
At best, we can expect massive squad cuts, slashed wages, academies being shredded and all sorts of other delights.
In the worst-case scenario, you’re looking at lower leagues going into hibernation, some clubs going bust completely — and grassroots football being all but abandoned.
Another doomed generation, then, that will make the famous ‘lost boys’ of the teachers’ strike era seem like a blip.
The air of complacency in the face of imminent disaster, this feeling that it will always be someone else’s club who goes under, even the oft-expressed confidence that politicians will inevitably save Scottish football as one great going concern, represents a truly impressive act of collective denial.
Roll up, roll up, then, for another fantastic row about very little. A public slanging match, a last-gasp appeal, even — if you’re very lucky — a court case.
Hey, don’t knock it. In lieu of actual football, this will have to do.