Celtic’s passive display today is what cost us valuable points.

After a great afternoon at Paradise last Saturday, when the Celtic boys beat Motherwell 3-1 and took another three points, they returned to league duty to face Dundee United, away this time. If The Hoops had won, they’d have moved into second place again, and there would still be a ray of hope. I believed we’d find a way.

My thoughts after the first half? I was worried.

Dundee United looked sharp, organised and determined. Celtic cannot allow teams to settle like that, because if they do, disaster can follow, and those three points were badly needed. To be honest, it was one of those tense, edgy halves where nothing really settled.

Celtic had more of the ball, nearly 60%, but it was not control with authority. It was control without incision. That has been a recurring issue. Possession without purpose. Chances created but not taken.

Watching that first half left me with that uneasy feeling sitting in the pit of my stomach.

Aye, we had the ball. Aye, on paper it probably looks like control. But no-one watching was buying into that illusion. That was not Celtic imposing themselves. That was Celtic drifting through the game, passing without purpose, moving without real intent.

It felt safe. Too safe. Which made it dangerous.

There is a difference between patience and hesitation, and we were leaning far too much into the latter. It was inviting disaster.

What frustrates me most is that the openings were there.

Dundee United are not impenetrable, not even close. There were moments, half-chances, flashes where you think “this is it” and then it just fizzles out. The final ball was lacking, or the decision-making was just that second too slow. At this level, that is everything

Dundee United had their moments, and more importantly, they looked like they believed they could get something from the game.

Once a team gains that belief, they become twice as difficult to break down.

There was no authority about us. No swagger. No sense that we were dictating the game.

It was flat. Predictable. And, if I am being honest, worrying. But it was not gone.

There was still something there. One moment of quality, one bit of sharpness, one player deciding they had had enough, and the whole game could turn. That was the frustrating part. It was not beyond us. Hope existed.

At half time, I thought the second half had to be different. Faster passing, braver movement, more ruthlessness. Less thinking, more doing. Because if we keep waiting for the game to come to us, we risk watching it slip away instead.

What can I say now? I was speechless at what we watched.

It felt like a curse again. We lost earlier this season at Tannadice, and now we were repeating the same story.

As a Celtic fan, it is easy to call it a “curse”. But is it really?

It is a pattern.

When Celtic go there and play within themselves, when the tempo drops, when the intensity is not quite right, Dundee United grow into the game. The crowd feeds it, the belief builds, and suddenly it becomes a battle rather than a football match.

That is not fate. That is mentality.

It only becomes a “curse” if Celtic allow the same conditions to repeat. If we play slow, predictable football, move without urgency, and defend poorly, Tannadice will punish us every time. If we raise the tempo, show authority and bring that ruthless edge, the idea of a “curse” disappears very quickly.

So no, this was not about bad luck. This was about how we approached the game.

At half time, I was sitting there thinking this is where Celtic step up, take control, and remind everyone who we are. But it never truly ignited.

There were moments, little spells where it looked like we might click into gear, where the tempo lifted slightly and Dundee United began to stretch. But it never lasted. It was like watching a spark that refused to turn into a flame.

And that is what makes it so frustrating, because the game was there to be won.

Celtic kept probing, kept moving the ball, but again it felt limited. Too many touches and too much hesitation. Too many safe decisions when what we needed was bravery. Someone to take responsibility. Someone to drive the game.

Instead, we recycled possession again and again.

You could see Dundee United growing into it. Every block, every clearance, every break added to their belief. And we allowed it. There was no sustained pressure. No sense that a goal was inevitable. Just phases, and then it dropped again.

At a place like this, that is not enough.

Where was the ruthlessness? Where was the hunger to take the game?

Because great Celtic sides do not wait for chances. They manufacture them. That is the hardest thing to accept. It was not that the game was beyond us. It is that we never fully went and demanded it.

This is one of those games that leaves frustration more than anything else. We had enough of the ball. Enough of the moments. But not enough authority. Too slow, too safe, not enough bite when it mattered.

And all the while, Dundee United grew in confidence because we allowed it. When they had their chances they took them. They made more chances with their much smaller possession; since when does Celtic permit that? It was not that we could not win it. It is that we never truly went and took it.

As for the title? Aye, I still believe we can win it. But performances like that need to sharpen up, and quickly. Because over a season, these are the games that come back to haunt you if you do not learn from them.

We are not learning fast enough and the truth is that we are swiftly running out of time to learn them.

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