No-one loves Mr Smarty Pants, and Celtic messageboards are no exception. Surprising therefore that one of their more deranged sites actually had a sensible debate on it the other week.
It started off with a Timmy bemoaning the fact that modern football was dire and that all those things which he loved as a kid going to the games had disappeared or were going fast. In short, he was nostalgic for the old days when you could sing what you wanted, drink what you wanted, say what you wanted and stand where you wanted without some over-efficacious twerp in a day-glo jacket or a polis with a telephoto lens scrutinising your face for traces of Thought Crime or rustling sweetie papers too loudly.
In particular, he compared the old Parkhead Jungle with how things are now. How you rarely hear rebel songs, etc. How all the fun is confined to away days.
At this point a couple of others joined in and asked “what did you expect?” Their argument was simple - once we (Celtic fans) started down the road of questioning what Rangers fans sang (and God knows why as they’ve been singing it for 100 years plus) did you really think that Celtic fans and their songs would forever remain unquestioned and untouched?
The vast and overwhelming majority of the Scottish population know what their repertoire is and don’t like it but so long as no-one in football made a fuss then it was just accepted as ‘one of those things.’ Now that Rangers have been done over by UEFA did they really think that they would remain aloof from scrutiny? The more deranged ones obviously did. For them praise of sectarian murder gangs is ‘political’ - but as has been shown by the demolition of the Celtic Trust over that issue it’s not a proposition that lasts more than a few seconds when put into the media spotlight.
Those who argued that the issue of Rangers songs should have been left well alone got, for once, a reasonable hearing. Whilst the Scottish media and political establishment are wary of poking the Celtic beast with too sharp a stick (and equally shy of tackling songs about the Ibrox Disaster etc) some Tims are only too well aware that it only takes someone with the bottle to politely ask for principles to be applied fairly and they are up a certain creek without a large paddle. The phrase ‘be careful what you wish for' springs to mind.
This sort of issue is not new - allegations of bigotry, Freemasonry, or frankly Scotland having too many Protestants living here for our own good has been a comfort blanket to Celtic for over a hundred years. Any and every setback can be blamed on someone else. Conspiracy shields them from reality, it shields them from responsibility. It’s remarkable that so few consider the trophy count and ask themselves what more do they want? If it’s a conspiracy that hasn’t worked too well in stopping them win things.
Celtic’s permanent state of Dystopia often reminds me of George Orwell’s brilliant anti-totalitarian novel 1984. Orwell described the concepts of ”black-white” and “doublethink” - the ability to hold two contradictory thoughts at the one time and switch instantly and effortlessly between them as circumstances demand. For instance - the dual promotion of Neil Lennon as a victim and a “Provo like me and you.” Victimhood and violence - mutually exclusive - but mutually supportive in this context.
This mindset gives the club the ability to switch instantly from self-pity to promoting media campaigns to drive people from their jobs and their homes through the fear of violence. And they have never been shy of using it.
Celtic are and were a rich club - formed to promote a religion and claiming poor beginnings. Yet they were rich enough to purchase their own ground outright; to steal players from Hibs and others through financial inducements; to have Celtic Park opened by a major political figure and to have His Grace The Archbishop as their honorary patron.
Lennon is but the latest episode in this sorry tale. Put upon and victimised he is presented to us as the happy-go-lucky Lenny. And woe betide the journalist who dares mention his debut Old Firm game and the attendant behaviour. Woe betide anyone who would dare to recall the behaviour in umpteen other games or to linger too long over the snarling, hate-filled face all too familiar to those of us looking in with a non-Celtic eye.
In the last year it’s become increasingly obvious that cowardice in the face of this relentless hate campaign has merely encouraged Celtic directors, staff, players, fans and media hangers-on. But it comes at a price.
The witch-hunts of the SFA President, Hugh Dallas, journalists and the rest have cast a shadow over the whole game and devalued it. Celtic don’t give a damn about the damage they have caused as they imagine they’ll never have to take the blame. Numerous examples in the past encourage them in that belief.
What they have failed to recognise is that once they survey the wasteland they have created and finished savouring the feel-bad factor they too are going to have to live with the consequences.
So, welcome to the demoralised, unappetising, sanitised world of Scottish Football in 2011. And you can thank Celtic for it.