Mad Phil still thinks Ibrox can win the league. Celtic won’t let him persist in that madness.

I’m always amused when I hear stories about how the media feeds the fantasist across the city. He’s come out with yet another outrageous statement—this one a real beauty. Speaking to the press yesterday, Mad Phil declared that “anything can happen” and that “the league race is not yet over.”

But the league race is over. Everyone who follows Scottish football knows that. Thirteen points clear with thirteen games left means that if we win just nine of our remaining fixtures, they can’t catch us. Let me put it another way: of the thirteen games we have left, we would need to lose at least five of them. In 25 games so far—almost double what remains—we’ve lost just once.

Whatever he’s on, smoking, drinking, or ingesting in some way, it must be powerful stuff if he genuinely believes in this fantasy. In my view, this league will be won by an even greater margin than currently separates the two sides, and I’ve been very clear about why. He doesn’t have the squad depth to sustain any kind of run, and before the season is over, his players will be dropping like flies.

But it’s more than that—he’s just not a good manager. He’s not the tactical genius he imagines himself to be. Rodgers, on the other hand, is every bit as good as he thinks he is, and he’ll see this Celtic team over the line.

There is no way Rodgers will allow our standards to slip to the extent that we drop enough points for this to become a contest again. A bad day at the office here and there? Maybe. But not nearly enough of them to matter.

And even if we did collapse to that extent, they’d have to win every single game. Does anyone seriously think they’re capable of that? Because I don’t. So I really don’t know who he thinks he’s fooling.

Their fans know it’s over. His own players might be the ones he’s trying to gee up, but players aren’t stupid. They don’t live in some artificially created bubble. They can read the league table. They know what’s left on the fixture list.

This is a man desperately afraid for his job. And he should be. When you’ve made such a mess of things, it’s natural to be worried.

If his club had an ounce of ambition—or enough money in the bank—he’d be gone already. And he knows it. Everyone knows it. Let’s not forget that when Patrick Stewart came out and backed him, it came with caveats like, “performances have to improve” and “this situation is not acceptable.”

That was limited backing at best.

As I’ve said before, both parties here are just playing for time. The manager sees a narrow advantage in keeping himself in the job, which is why he’s constantly banging on about transfers and blaming the board for a lack of support. But the board has all the excuses in the world for why they didn’t back him properly—chief among them being that they’re skint.

It’s possible that what he’s trying to do is spark some kind of reaction from his team in this final phase of the season so it doesn’t completely unravel, leaving them with no choice but to sack him.

He’s already made it clear that no matter what happens, he won’t leave of his own accord. That creates a problem for them if things go badly and they decide in the summer that they need to pull the trigger.

Today, he takes his team into the Scottish Cup. He’ll get through against Queen’s Park easily enough. But the draw that follows might throw up a meeting with us or one of those rare away ties they only occasionally get in the competition.

If he ends up facing the even rarer scenario of an away tie at Celtic Park, he can kiss his season completely goodbye.

Yet, somehow, there are still people in the press box talking about them winning the Europa League. Honestly, some of these people would believe in fairies at the bottom of the garden if you told them the fairies wore Castore tops and sang The Billy Boys.

To each their own, I suppose. But I’d rather live in reality than in their mad fantasy. And that’s all that ever comes out of Philippe Clement’s mouth—mad fantasy. This is no exception.

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