Last night, Moussa Dembele did a one man demolition job on Inverness. He was awesome. His two goals were sheer class, especially the Larssonesque one, which was sheer bravura, a piece of utter brilliance that had the whole Celtic support on their feet.
Whilst acknowledging that it was a team performance – and a particularly splendid one at that – he deserves particular praise for how he went about his business. Inverness tried to stymie his creativity, but when he got those breaks of the ball, by God he punished them.
That’s what a quality footballer like Moussa does; he preys on this little lapses in concentration, those moments when someone in the opposition camp switches off, even for a second.
If you’ve watched Rob Kiernan of Sevco this season you’ll know that’s what he does, game after game. He switches off. The concentration goes. He makes mistakes both great and small, repeatedly, one after the other. David Weir laughably described him as having “Champions League potential.”
King ought to use that in the coming court cases.
If that’s not a sacking offence I don’t know what is.
I don’t like to be overly critical of players; it’s poor form to slag someone mercilessly for something I would be even more dire at … but let’s face it, this guy is hopeless and you can’t have watched him and be unaware of that fact.
Last night he was sent off against St Johnstone. They are appealing the red card, in the hope he can play at Parkhead. One hack has described the challenge as “clumsy rather than reckless.”
How perfect is that?
Because a clumsy player is just the sort you want going up against our French goal machine. Moussa has already scored five times against this lot, this season, and Rob Kiernan was on the park for four of them.
The idea that he’ll be in the line-up for this one, with Moussa in the best form of his career right now and looking like he could score every time he’s got a sniff at goal, thrills most Celtic fans, and the news that Sevco is appealing his red is a cause for alarm only on their own fan forums.
His presence in the team weakens them.
He can’t be trusted in these games.
What an acknowledgement of the weakness of their squad, that their stand in boss sees him as the best they’ve got. What an indictment of pension chasers like Senderos, and pretenders like Wilson that is. As gifts to an incoming manager go, this is like a cup full of warm pee.
“Do with it what you will. It’s our way of saying welcome to the club.”
Dembele The Destroyer has already owned this guy, on our home ground, not to mention at Hampden and at Ibrox. In the form he’s in, who would bet against him scoring another hat-trick?
It might even be that Kiernan knows this, is well aware of his limitations, and did the only thing he could last night so as not to have to go one on one with him again … if so his manager has thrown a grenade at him with this declaration.
What can he do now? Go on the sick?
He will be joined on the sidelines by the hapless Joe Garner, who’s season has been remarkable for one fact; that he managed a goal against us in the first encounter.
His presence will not be missed except in the Celtic stands; he is a hilarious reminder of the colossal waste of two years and resources since King and his cohort took over the club.
In a perfect world, he too would be available for business, his place in the team (and that transfer fee; Preston’s general manager must still be laughing) offering a marvelous contrast with our own piece of business, his thuggish, neddish throwing of arms and legs a quite wonderful mirror to the grace and elegance of our 31 goal predator.
Last time we played Sevco at Parkhead the fans were mourning the injury to Leigh Griffiths, which kept our most potent striker out of the game.
We had no inkling of what was to come, as Moussa proved himself a player of supreme quality by putting them to the sword.
This time we are bemoaning not an injury to one of our own but the suspension of one of theirs.
I think I can speak for all of us when I wish them every success in their appeal.
Because if it comes off, in that first moment when the watching fans realise that Kiernan has flubbed his lines, that the lights are on but nobody’s home, I predict that Moussa will already be way ahead of us and the hapless defender himself, heading for goal, zeroing in on another Skelper moment …
In that instant the desperate folly of this decision will be made clear.
And by then, of course, it’ll be too late.