FROM BAD TO WORSE
Yet another home horror show proves Celtic slump is terminal
TWENTY years to the day since he pitched up at Celtic, Neil Lennon’s anniversary brought no cards or flowers. Only a growing certainty that when the thank yous come, they will be accompanied by a P45.
For Parkhead powerbrokers, there can be no point in defying t he i nevitable any f urther. After two decades of trophy-laden service to his boyhood team, Lennon’s second spell in charge is reaching an ignominious climax.
While Rangers crush all before them, yesterday’s l acklustre, dismal home draw with Callum Davidson’s improving St Johnstone left the Premiership champions 13 points adrift of their bitter rivals.
After just two wins in their last 12 matches, their two games in hand now feel more like a curse than a blessing. The crack at history is fast becoming a vision of hell.
A fortuitous late equaliser from substitute Mohamed Elyounoussi proved the smallest of mercies after a strike from Saints substitute Chris Kane 11 minutes from time threatened to inflict a fifth straight home defeat on Lennon’s side.
Dermot Desmond and Peter Lawwell no doubt saw home games against Ross County, St Johnstone and Kilmarnock as a chance to steady the ship ahead of a tilt at a quadruple Treble in the Scottish Cup final with Hearts on December 20.
Yet with ten in a row now holed beneath the waterline, the police presence and ring of steel thrown around Parkhead before this game told its own tale. Angry protesters were kept at bay by a cordon of fences erected around the main stand. The regret for Celtic is that they can’t put them up around the 18-yard box as well.
In their last 12 games, they have now conceded 28 goals — and lost their cutting edge. Changes of personnel and f ormation do nothing to arrest basic errors.
Bluntly, fans have now seen enough now and believe major shareholder Desmond and chief executive Lawwell should have changed the manager weeks ago.
On the one hand, the loyalty to a club legend has been rare and admirable. On the other, on days like this when further ground is lost, it makes their reluctance to bow to supporter pressure feel self-defeating and damaging.
Make no mistake, this was a game Celtic never looked like winning —and that’s become a pattern these days.
Sensing the vulnerability of the home side, a St Johnstone team now unbeaten in 11 games, played an aggressive passing game and will rue the failure to secure their first win at Parkhead in five years.
Without the ball, they swarmed over green-and-white shirts like men possessed. With the ball, they posed a constant threat.
They should have opened the scoring after ten minutes. Winning a free-kick wide on the right, the ball bobbled around the area before landing at the feet of the in-form Stevie May. Hammering a shot towards the top corner, he watched Nir Bitton head off the line.
Something ails this Celtic team.
When they craft chances now, they don’t look like scoring them. Without supporters, the impregnability once enjoyed by Lennon’s team — especially at home — has gone. Opponents know they can test them in attack and repel them in defence.
Tom Rogic should have hit the target with a header f rom a Christopher Jullien knockdown eight yards out.
Odsonne Edouard did find the target when Callum McGregor played him in on goal with a perfectly-weighted through ball after 22 minutes, yet the finish reflected Celtic’s collective state of mind. Lacking conviction, keeper Zander Clark blocked what should have been a certain goal with his legs.
Edouard had another opportunity one on one with Jamie McCart shortly after, the defender winning the duel.
So dangerous in the Europa League, the Frenchman seems less interested these days in the meat and drink of domestic duty. In the final third — where games are won — Celtic rarely cut it these days.
St Johnstone could be satisfied with their first-half efforts. Their three central defenders were tested sporadically, but the loss of attacker Michael O’Halloran to injury forced a shuffling of the pack.
Boss Davidson pushed on striker Kane and put May out to the left. Before the end of the game, both moves would seem inspired.
After another dismal first-half performance, Lennon f ound himself with 45 minutes to save his job. Again.
Greg Taylor replaced Diego Laxalt at half-time. The change Celtic really needed was in attack, where they repeatedly wandered into blind alleys. Or, more accurately, blue shirts.
As in the first half, their main line of threat came from the aerial ability of Jullien at set-pieces. The giant Frenchman met a Ryan Christie corner with ferocious intent to bullet the ball back into the mixer eight minutes into the second half.
Edouard nodded the ball on to Bitton, the Israeli failing to make clean contact as the ball came off his shoulder ,which allowed Clark to save. As Ali McCann hacked the ball clear, Celtic’s lack of cutting edge had seen another chance wasted.
The arrival of Leigh Griffiths with half an hour to play was the day’s l east surprising development. Resurrecting the partnership with Edouard which sealed the league title last season, Lennon (right) needed the duo to work together to keep this season’s race alive. Nominally at least.
Throwing on David Turnbull, a player who has seen precious little action in a green-and-white shirt, was a sign of growing desperation.
Yet the £3million signing almost laid a goal on a plate for Griffiths with a rare moment of passing vision from a Celtic player. On a day when St Johnstone had heroes all over the pitch, Shaun Rooney turned the ball out for a corner.
As an attacking force, the Perth side had barely been seen. Yet all it takes to score against this Celtic side is pace on the counter-attack, a modicum of self- belief and patience.
So it was, then, that with just 11 minutes remaining on the clock, the visitors hammered another nail into Lennon’s coffin.
As so often of late, the goal came from pace on the flanks. May skipped clear and took his time
before sliding a low ball into the middle for Kane to slide home from no more six yards.
It was no more than St Johnstone deserved.
Celtic’s huffing and puffing finally paid off — to a degree — four minutes later. There was more than a hint of good fortune about the way substitute Elyounoussi’s l ooping back header dropped i nto the net f ol l owing Christi e ’ s whipped-in cross.
In truth, it made no real difference to the final picture. When t his season started, many felt ‘the Ten’ was there for the taking after the annual Rangers collapse.
If that’s Celtic’s best hope of a title reprieve now, then accusing fingers really should be pointing a little higher up the tree than Lennon.