Measured McInnes making his Dons believe
ALex Ferguson’s order to hi s Aberdeen players as they closed in on the 1980 title had the desired effect. And then some. Then, as now, Celtic were the prey. Home and away League Cup victories over the Parkhead side were cemented by two league wins in 18 days in Glasgow’s east end.
There was no subtlety to Ferguson’s methods. He was brash and gun g-ho. He played on the weakness of opponents and gnawed away at their insecurities. When it came time to go for the jugular, he was British football’s most ruthless practitioner.
He didn’t creep inside the minds of his players. He booted down the doors, stormed in and took up squatters rights. And what he said privately, he had no qualms over telling the media.
Fast forward 36 years and Derek McInnes prefers a more nuanced approach.
References to Celtic’s dodgy defence are less about mind games than they are a simple statement of statistical fact. Noising up the noisy neighbours is not his style.
Those of us with a vested interest in acquiring sexy headlines might wish it was.
But in press conferences McInnes is careful. He chooses his words. His body language is tight, compact, guarded. The reasons for that are obvious. An intelligent man, he sees the questions coming and calculates what impact provocative headlines might have on his team. This Aberdeen team don’t have Willie Miller and Alex McLeish to lean on; they have their limitations. And in a tightly- contested title race, loose lips sink ships.
McInnes, then, runs a tight unit. In press conferences, his players speak only of a game at a time. Bettering last season’s points tally is their only target.
After Wednesday’ s triumph, Aberdeen’s manager indulged us all with a little psychology.
Three points ahead with a better goal difference, Celtic remain title favourites. It’s still in their hands. And the Dons boss is happy to go along with the idea.
Look back 12 months for strong supporting evidence.
This time last year, Celtic were first, Aberdeen second. The gap then — as now — was three points.
By the end of the campaign, Ronny Deila’s team had won the Premiership title by 17 points.
For all their weaknesses — and they are many — most still think Celtic will do the same again. In Scotland, this is the way of things.
But whatever he says publicly, McInnes surely disagrees.
The look in the eye suggests that whatever he tells us is different to what he tells his players. In the sanctuary of the dressing room. Not for public consumption.
In football, this is far from unusual. Hearts legend John Robertson recently told me of an illuminating moment from the Tynecastle club’s ill- fated title challenge of 30 years ago.
Moments after beating Jock Wallace’s Rangers 2-0 at Christmas, five months before the end of the campaign, the manager Alex MacDonald burst into their dressing room with a blunt message.
Not only could Hearts win the league, he barked. But they would win it.
He was wrong in the end. Hearts blew it in the final seven minutes of the season.
But that was hardly a source of shame. Because in the final weeks of that epic season, they never once publicly acknowledged they had the slightest chance in the first place.
McInnes, then, is working off an old familiar script. One where the title is Celtic’s to lose.
But only the very naive would think that’s the message his players are getting.
Because the suspicion is Aberdeen’s manager not only thinks his team can win the league. Like MacDonald three decades ago, he is now trying to convince them they will.
It may turn out to be fruitless in the end.
As McInnes reminds everyone often, Celtic’s budget is superior. They have a bigger pool of players. They clearly should be winning the league by 15 to 20 points minimum and still might.
But right now, within that old Pittodrie stand, they’re not really working on points tallies. Or a season of improvement.
They are working on belief. Arrogance. Setting images of the poorest Celtic team since the 1990s in their sights. And going for their bloody throats.