Celtic Fans Aren’t Losing Sleep Over The Desperate Focus On Neil Warnock’s Allegiances.
Soccer Football - Scottish Premiership - Celtic v St Johnstone - Celtic Park, Glasgow, Scotland, Britain - April 9, 2022 Celtic fans in the stands before the match REUTERS/Russell Cheyne
I do not care what Neil Warnock says, thinks or does.
Neil Warnock is like Kris Boyd; a Village Idiot School Reject who ought not to be allowed near a microphone for his own good.
He is the clownish stereotype of what a lot of folk who don’t like football think of those involved in the game as a whole; a pig ignorant yokel, one step up from a trailer park.
When he was the manager at Cardiff City, he embarrassed the whole club by having a pro-Brexit meltdown during an interview where he displayed astonishing stupidity and ended with the words “To hell with the rest of the world.”
His board moved swiftly to distance him from those remarks, and no wonder.
It was a deranged rant.
It wasn’t untypical of Warnock.
He is a bizarre individual, who because of his time in the game is treated as some sort of elder statesman instead a bad joke that went on too long.
He’s all over the papers today bigging up how much he loves Ibrox; at a time when the press badly needs some feel-good stuff over there this darling of the tabloids is a god-send.
I just don’t know that anybody really cares.
This was the guy who in 2011 rightly called El Hadji Diouff a “sewer rat” before apologising to sewer rats, and then signed him a year later.
Does that require mental gymnastics or does it display a level of intellectual dishonesty that ought to be disqualifying to the notion you should ever be taken seriously?
Neil Warnock’s career in football can best be summed up by a remarkable, and hilarious, experiment that a veteran Football Manager player and blogger conducted when he made the Englishman the manager of Barcelona in-game and then meticulously documented his season in charge. Just for a laugh.
I still get a kick out of that article.
It only worked because the perception of Warnock as a throwback, a dinosaur, a clown is so steeped in the public consciousness.
How tragic of the papers up here to regurgitate his Ibrox allegiances, which have been a known fact for years.
I mean who cares?
This is what they are filling the Sunday papers with, this and another story about a tennis player who goes to watch the club over them from time to time? Are they so desperate for positive stories that they think this dreck matters?
Football Scotland describes him as having had “a brilliant 42 year career” in the game.
Christ almighty.
An eternity bouncing about the lower leagues of England, pissing people off and making an arse of himself.
They talk about how close he came to an Ibrox gig.
God, I wish he had gotten it.
Nobody in the Celtic support, or at the club, would have lost sleep over that hilarious prospect.
It would have been the summit of the Banter Years.
I love how this is dominating the discourse over there today; it really is this easy to distract them from their absence of summer transfer business and the implications of it, including the huge finance gap between their club and ours.
They are so easily manipulated.
They can be tricked by anything, like a cat when you roll a ball of string across the floor.
Whatever else it’s doing, it stops at once and that ball of string becomes its sole focus.
No wonder Warnock fits them like a glove.
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