The press this morning is full of Steven Gerrard. It’s full of the guy who won one trophy out of nine in Scotland sharing his thoughts on the title race.
The guy who, years before he went to Ibrox, had a clear and openly expressed affection for Celtic now self-defines as “one of their own.”
I wonder how he and little Lourdes reconcile that with the bile that pours out of the Ibrox stands every week now? He never was that complicated. I bet he sleeps like a baby.
Still, I find it amazing to read his comments as if he was still a factor here. He ran from this title race. He saw, perhaps more clearly than most, the writing on the wall.
He had lost his dressing room.
It had lost its purpose.
He had suffered the humiliation of not getting the players he wanted, and then being knocked out of the Champions League.
Serious questions ought to have been asked of him.
Only Celtic’s stuttering start to the campaign, when we were still effectively in rebuild mode, was saving him from those. But he looked at what was happening at Parkhead and knew two things; that Dave King’s hope of a general collapse of our club had been in vain and that we would soon be back on stable ground.
And, to use the American parlance, he ran like a bitch.
Gerrard could not wait to get himself back south, whilst he still had a remaining shred of his reputation up here. It is no coincidence that he left with a League Cup semi-final to play; he could see what was about to happen.
He knew the structural weaknesses in his team and the way his dressing room had become factionalised.
Our press corps might be stupid, but they’re not that stupid. They know this guy got a free ride up here and he’s still getting one from them. They call it a successful spell because he won that one title, but if you’d given Derek McInnes the type of money Gerrard was able to spend. And you know what? He got very little for it.
Look at the three players who are carrying this Ibrox team at the current time; Goldson, Morelos and Tavernier. None of them were his signings; he inherited all three from the previous reviews, the two defenders from Warburton and the striker from Caixinha.
The smartest thing he’s ever done in his life was to clear out of Ibrox when he did, just as we were getting into our stride, just as big Ange and this team were hitting form.
If big Ange wins this league he will have accomplished more in one season than Gerrard did in three and a half of them … who cares how he thinks this title race will go?
He did a runner from it at the end of the day.