Celtic Fans Better Start Facing Facts About The Future: An Exclusive By Keith Jackass.
Last night, after Celtic released their accounts, a friend of mine with sympathies lying across the city (not me, honestly, a friend of mine) had been despondent and depressed at the strength of their numbers. He was doing some TV watching, flicking aimlessly through the channels, and he came across National Geographic and one of its history programs.
And that’s when it dawned on him; Celtic’s power will all evaporate.
One day, even if he stays, Ange Postecoglou will be too old to manage a football team. Will he still be in the Parkhead dugout when he’s 80? One day, Kyogo Furuhashi will be too old to score goals, even if he were to sign for Celtic and never leave. Even the youngest players in the current side, like Abada, will be finished in a little over a decade.
Celtic’s football power is not built to last, and when it starts to slip I suspect that Michael Beale will be waiting. All he has to do is bide his time. He is only 42. If he’s at Ibrox when he’s Postecoglou’s age, the Australian will have long since departed. Celtic’s expensive squad will all have gone. At that point, Beale has an opportunity to build a dynasty.
I shared this insight with Ibrox supporting friends. (Ahem, other friends. Other than the friend I was talking about at the start.) Kris Boyd and Barry Ferguson both agreed that Celtic fans need to start to face reality; their club is built on sand.
“Celtic fans have obviously never considered that one day none of these people will be at the club. And then where are they going to be? In the shadow of Michael Beale and the squad he is attempting to build. Everything Celtic fans see right now, in ten years or so, when it has cobwebs on it, the Ibrox boss will be over the hills and far away.”
I reached out to Celtic for comment. An official who would only let us refer to him as Mr L. agreed wholeheartedly with me. “It’s true,” he said, “that none of these people will be at Celtic in ten to fifteen years. But more importantly, neither will I. God, think of Celtic without me. Will the club be able to cope with that? That’s my worry.”
I tried to contact Ange Postecoglou, using a false name to get around his restraining order.
Calling myself Kevin Jackson, I was able to get through to him.
“Keith, for Christs sake mate it’s four am. When I leave, Celtic will just find somebody else. Players are replaced too. It’s the nature of football. Juranovic goes, we bring in Johnston. Giako goes, we bring in Oh. The club’s pretty strong, in a pretty good place, and we’re the bloody biggest team in the country. So if this is the basis of your next article you should probably write something else cause it’s just bloody stupid mate. How do your editors let you away with this?”