Ever since we were confirmed as league champions last Monday, a never-ending parade of nonentities and goons has trooped through the newspaper offices to try and devalue the achievement. McCoist has been moaning on TalkSport and Steven Thompson has used his time on Radio Scotland to try and push the same pitiful message.
The idea that there will be an “asterisk” next to it is supposed to be offensive and meant to put us on the defensive; I feel no such inclination.
To me, these people are petty, intolerant bigots trying to snipe their way to a conclusion that their football club was unable to get to on the pitch; not even stopping Celtic, just casting doubt on our credentials as true and unequivocal champions.
It is pathetic, and that the press fills up with it day after day does not make it any less so.
In fact, when you see the poor quality of their arguments you despair.
The Record let a Sevco blogger loose on the subject last week and his childish rant was so devoid of any valid point that I couldn’t even be bothered to dissect it.
Kris Boyd and others fire up their single brain cells and try to make intelligent points when no intelligent rebuttal to Celtic being fit and worthy champions exists.
The latest was Gareth McAuley, who has said that our nine does not have the same standing as our first and the one won by Rangers; if you don’t’ know who he is then he’s a no-mark footballer who briefly played for Sevco, who Gerrard signed, and who gave them ten games.
He signed his contract with them aged 38. Great use of club resources, that.
His piece is just as inane as the rest of them; written in a Belfast newspaper, it ticks all the boxes for the foaming Sevconite illiterati.
Like everything else that’s been written or said by these whiners, these losers, none of it makes one bit of difference to the result.
Celtic are champions.
There will be no asterisk next to our title.
The history books will record nine in a row.
They will record next season’s ten in a row.
Nothing any of these pitiful wailers says is going to matter at all.
This is not even background noise; it’s the cut of a loud fart that will whiff for a while and then be absolutely forgotten.
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