STEPHEN McGOWAN: RONNY NOW LOOKS LIKE A DEAD MAN WALKING
WHEN Kris Commons delivered his very public Ronny Roar in Molde, it was a seminal moment. The instant the last vestige of tolerance and indulgence of Ronny Deila’s erratic Celtic r ei gn disappeared. The night the wheels came off.
Here was Mark Viduka throwing his boots at Eric Black as a hapless John Barnes looked on. Or Tony Mowbray motionless on the Paisley touchline as St Mirren slammed i n their fourth goal against Celtic.
Unlike Barnes or Mowbray, Deila will not be thrown out. Not i mmediately. The f i rst Celtic manager in history to be judged solely on what he does in Europe, the Norwegian was hand-picked by chief executive Peter Lawwell. Right now, that is his insurance policy.
Commons has the bigger problem. Living down a spectacular public strop — however justified — will take some doing.
After a night of rancour, the former PFA Scotland’s Premiership Player of the Year had two choices. He either apologised publicly to his manager and team-mates. Or left Celtic in January.
Plenty will feel Commons had nothing to be sorry for. The man himself might be one of them.
He saw little need to apologise because he only said what the Celtic support were thinking. The substitution was a nonsense.
But what he said was less important than where and how he said it. By yesterday, images of an animated outburst were plastered all over the media. To save his Celtic career, there was no option. He had to back down.
To be clear, Commons had every right to feel aggrieved. He is the club’s best player. The only footballer with invention, guile or creativity in a squad stripped bare of genuine assets.
A strong, opinionated character, he has a lot to say for himself. He also fell out with Neil Lennon, but that doesn’t mean he was wrong.
The decision to replace him during another abject night for Deila’s team in Europe was inexplicable and served only to publicly expose what many already suspected. These are two men with no time for each other. Commons s t ormed out of Parkhead after he was ignored for the dismal Champions League defeat to Maribor last season.
He signed a new two-year contract — eventually. But it should be obvious to all by now that Deila simply doesn’t fancy him.
Molde made that glaringly obvious. The dugout spat was car- crash television.
Stefan Johansen won Player of the Year honours last season. But this term, Deila’s golden Bhoy has been average. If anyone should have been subbed, it was him.
Whatever Johansen has on Deila — pictures, videos, whatever — must be dynamite. The footballing equivalent of a smoking gun.
There can be no other explanation for the dogged insistence on playing a man who has barely kicked his own backside all season.
The danger now is t hat Commons- gate overshadows another inept performance in Molde. It really shouldn’t. Because the truth is this. What happened in that dugout may be the least of Deila’s problems.
In 23 European games, he has mustered a mere eight wins.
Losing two or three goals is now the norm rather than the exception. Celtic’s defending is dire, players are c hopped a nd c hanged willy-nilly.
When things go wrong, there is a complete unwillingness to alter a rigid 4-2-3-1 formation.
Against Motherwell, Dedryck Boyata was partnered in central defence by Tyler Blackett. Unusually for a Celtic defence, they kept a clean sheet.
The decision to restore the catastrophic Efe Ambrose to the heart of the backline in Molde, then, was bizarre and damaging.
Against a team sitting seventh in the Norwegian league, Scotland’s champions were one-dimensional, pedestrian and predictable. Let’s be blunt, Molde should have scored five or six.
During Deila’s tenure, Celtic have sought to change the culture of the club.
A Viking longship was hired to cart a battalion of Norwegian physios and sports scientists into Lennoxtown.
The effect of that was to alienate a number of long- serving backroom staff.
The evidence of Molde would suggest the players are hardly running through walls for the manager ei t her. Deila is a likeable character. He talks a good game. But supporters are tired of hearing ‘progress’ while watching their team go backwards.
There were 700 travelling fans in Norway. They paid their own way and stood in miserable weather to watch a performance best described as Norse manure.
Leigh Griffiths may disagree. But they had every right to make their feelings known afterwards.
Nothing l ess than obvious, sustainable improvement in the home games with Molde and Ajax will now suffice.
Right now, Deila looks like a dead man walking.