Braga prove that Celtic lack thunder.

Sometimes, clubs and managers, embrace taglines that are both passion stirring and cringe-worthy.  Neil Lennon’s “thunder” proclamation is in both camps. Problem is, so far, his side hasn’t produced any thunder but it’s certainly clammy and we are needing a downpour to clear the air.

Against Braga we were applying to Wonga.com for a loan of luck and miracles until the season starts. Our application was denied, in fact, it was never considered. After Braga scored, with some ease, this was like being at a party where Pixie Lott’s wailing was the entertainment.

Celtic are proving to be the experts at chasing lost causes. Which either show tremendous spirit or a major weakness that we are involved in chancing some many lost causes.

For many this was the first time seeing the players in the flesh. We also got the chance to see the genetically modified Samaras who, as it turned out, has not been passed for mass human consumption.

It seems that you need to have a constitution of a pregnant rhino to be able to stomach cloned Samaras on a regular basis. You just get the feeling that his original genes will gang together and kill his new ones before long. The lazy gene is powerful.

We learned that only in J R R Tolkiens mind that Hobbits and trees get on and work together for any good as Mulgrew and Maloney’s games ended predictably. Subbed and injured. Maloney is not the player he was in that one great season and Mulgrew V2.0 is missing a few software updates that will make the app work to a reasonable standard.

The introduction of Fortune sparked Celtic into some life. Fortune didn’t play like a man that we are still paying for or like he knows that the fee that will take to shift him won’t be on offer very soon.

He seemed to grasp the conception that a bit of effort may see him play a major part this season. Morton Rasmussen must be looking at Gary Hooper and seeing what he should have been. I’m not having the suggestion that when Hooper looks in the mirror he see’s Scott McDonald. That would be enough to send him on Jeremy Kyle.

Juarez continued to play like a man playing for a passport. Industry, skill and a bemusement of those trying and failing to play round about him. He was running around doing everything. Corners, shy’s and ballboy duties. I’m sure he collected tickets on the way in.

On ballboys, when did Celtic get such terrible ones? Numerous occasions two balls ended on the pitch or the ballboy didn’t put his PSP down quick enough and get of his wee plastic stool to return the matchball. It’s a sign of decline at our club on the field that you notice the ballboys abilities or lack of them.

With a lone drum banging out a slow beat giving the impression that Glenn Loovens was about to start his run up in the long jump would Braga give us entertainment?

Of course not. After seeing their samba star ‘Alan’ in the flesh, I have downgraded him from a UB40 trumpet player to an Aswad roadie. Despite them going down like they had been splashed in the eyes with Old Spice and a ref who was only willing to mop up their stinging faces it became a pantomime side show rather than annoyance.

They will be in a Europa League ground near you soon. Celtic still might not be and after the last few weeks Tv blackout plus our rapidly diminishing chances of a flirt in Europe we may soon be only appearing on Thursday night Bravo with Danny Dyer.