Wail Like A Baby, As You Like, Neil McCann. You’ll Be Back On Telly Shortly.

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Temporary Dundee manager Neil McCann is moaning today. As usual he’s moaning about a Celtic decision. We know from watching his last few years on the telly that he likes nothing better. Perhaps he will go back on camera and wave his stupid rule book again.

(He might want to flip to the section that deals with registration of players; that’s if he’s really interested in the rules, of course, and not just posturing.)

I have nothing but contempt for McCann.

Does it show?

I enjoy that he’s wailing like a child today.

I am especially tickled that he seems to be screaming penalty, although it’s presumably not the stonewall one we were denied in the second half when the ball was bouncing around in their penalty box and came off a defender’s lower arm.

His bitter tears are a joy to behold, frankly, and the true scale of his frustration was clear when he said that of Gamboa’s challenge that he “doesn’t care whether it was accidental …”

Perhaps someone should tell him that an accidental collision isn’t a proper basis for claiming that a decision is nailed on.

It was a foaming mouthed rant which Caixinha would have been embarrassed by.

Brendan, on the other hand, had a different take and praised the referee for a good call.

And we’re talking Andrew Dallas here, who really is awful most of the time.

McCann has been beaten by Celtic; that’s what rankles.

That’s what hurts.

It must hurt all the more that he was essentially beaten by half our first team.

Brendan has now gone two for two against him this season.

One more and he gets to stick McCann’s greeting face on his wall next to Pedro’s.

This is what happens when clubs appoint managers in such a slipshod, uninspiring, retrograde fashion as Dundee have here.

Kilmarnock are suffering for the similarly cataclysmic decision, the quite ludicrous choice, of giving their job to Elbows McCulloch, another graduate of the Walter Smith School Of The Deep Defensive Line And Long Ball Punt.

Neil McCann is not in the early stages of a managerial career revival here.

He’s in the final phase of a total wipe-out.

This is his last job “in football.”

It ought to be the end for him as a pundit too, because quite how he’ll be able to go on TV, with a straight face, after he’s sacked and criticise managers still in jobs … well, it’ll take some brass neck.

McCann is one of those appointments that should get directors sacked. It’s one of the great truisms of football that bosses pay for their misjudgements with their jobs but the directors who’s flights into fantasy are often far more damaging to clubs never suffer the same fate.

There is a certain hilarious inevitability about this.

I will try not to laugh too hard on the day Dundee hand the greeting faced bitter little sod his jotters. The thought that we will have to put up with his whinging on Celtic games on Sky might temper my happy mood ever so slightly, but then we’re used to that anyway. Mute the volume and all you had to do is put up with his face … but based on your typical scenario, where we’re winning, that can sometimes be a joy on its own.

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