The Celtic boss confirms that Hatate has a role in the finale. Of course he does.

Reo Hatate is one of those Celtic players who exposes how shallow our media football narratives can be. One week he is a key player. The next he is written off. One week he is the metronome, the difference-maker, the man who unlocks a low block. The next, he is wasteful, inconsistent and supposedly no longer part of the plan.

That swing tells you more about the media cycle than it does about the player.

Hatate is a perfect example of someone who can prove doubters wrong, because he does not play a safe, predictable game. He plays his own game. Open, brave, technical and sometimes risky. That is exactly why some people misunderstand him.

His profile is naturally high-risk and high-reward. He attempts progressive passes and takes shots from range. He plays in tight central areas where one touch can change everything, but where one mistake can look ugly.

That means turnovers happen. But it also means he creates moments others simply do not see. The media tends to punish the risk without valuing the upside. Safe midfielders do not get headlines. Hatate does, because he can change games. He has that inner power to transform a poor performance into a victory with one moment.

That is why I do not accept the idea that these final four games are somehow too big for him. They may be exactly the kind of games where Celtic need him most. Martin O’Neill knows it. That’s why he’s shot the narrative down.

Tactically, Hatate is Celtic’s chaos agent in an otherwise structured system. When he is missing, the drop-off is not just about quality. It is about the profile of the midfield.

Without Hatate’s verticality, Celtic can fall into safe possession. The ball goes from side to side in a horseshoe shape, allowing low-block Scottish Premiership defences to shift comfortably and stay compact.

Hatate changes that. He acts as the link between Callum McGregor and the front three. Hatate can turn in tight spaces. He can make late runs. He can receive the ball under pressure and move it into areas that hurt opponents.

Without that, the strikers can become isolated and forced to come deep just to get involved. He also has gravity. Opponents know he is a threat from 25 yards.

They know he can shoot. They know he can arrive late in the box. That forces defenders to step out. It changes the shape of a defensive block. Even when Hatate is not directly involved, his presence can alter the game around him.

That matters in matches where space is scarce.

I admire Hatate, despite the media nonsense and the scurrilous gossip directed at him, because he has big-game mentality. He has shown before that he can turn up when the pressure is highest.

Hatate is not a flat-track bully. He has delivered in high-pressure fixtures before, and when the title race tightens and margins shrink, players who can produce one decisive action become indispensable. One pass, one strike, one moment.

That is Hatate. At his best, the best player in the country bar Callum McGregor.

Celtic cannot rely only on the forwards in these final games. They need goals from midfield. Celtic need different scoring channels. They need players who can strike from distance or arrive late in the box when compact defences refuse to open up.

When a game is stuck at 0-0 or 1-1, Hatate is one of the few players who can manufacture something out of nothing. That is why the talk about him being managed out of the moment never did convince me. I just shake my head.

Yesterday the manager re-affirmed Reo’s importance to this team. Of course he did. Managers do not cast aside a player with that kind of spark when the fire matters most. They do not look at someone who can turn a game on its axis and decide that safety is always the better option.

No, they hold onto that spark. They trust it, even when it flickers.

Because they know what I know.

One moment can change everything. One pass no one else dares to see. One strike that cuts through the noise and the doubt. One brave decision when everyone else plays within themselves.

The media can talk all the nonsense it likes. People can invent whatever stories they want about players sulking or managers falling out with them. But inside the game, where it lives and breathes, nobody ignores ability like that.

Some people say this is the time for caution. They want Celtic to tiptoe through these final four games as if fear will carry us over the line. I do not buy it.

Celtic was never built on caution. It was built on courage. It was built on taking the ball and demanding more from it, from ourselves and from the moment.

That is what Hatate brings. He does not hide. He does not settle for the easy option just to keep the critics quiet. Hatate dares. I love that, because in these moments, when the pressure tightens around your chest and every pass feels heavier, it is the daring that sets you free. We were never putting that out of the team.

I would rather live and fall with that kind of football than watch Celtic fade into something safe and forgettable. Hatate’s role has evolved this season under Martin O’Neill, but his technical profile remains unique.

As an advanced No. 8, he still carries goal threat. He remains one of Celtic’s best players at finding pockets of space and linking the midfield to the front line.

In deeper build-up and pressing phases, he can act as a trigger. He can jump forward to close down, but also drop into shape when Celtic need control. When he drifts left, he can create overloads with players like Daizen Maeda or Kieran Tierney.

That range is important.

Yes, there has been tactical friction. Yes, his season has had ups and downs. There are times when he has frustrated people. But frustration often comes with players who try things.

The criticism around Hatate does not come from a lack of ability. It comes from expectation and misunderstanding. He is not there to recycle possession for 90 minutes. He is there to break games open.

Four final league games remain, and everything is on the line.

Celtic need exactly that.

From a psychological point of view, opponents know Hatate can hurt them. That alone alters defensive behaviour. Midfields sit deeper. Lines compress. Space opens elsewhere. Even when he does not touch the ball, he can influence the state of the game.

That is the kind of player you want in decisive moments.

So, I look at these last four games, and I see a stage that demands him.

I know which side of that argument I am on. Will Hatate be a Celtic hero in these final games? Aye, I think he can be. Without hesitation. Hatate will not just feature. He will matter. He will be one of the stars of the show.

Choose The CelticBlog as a ‘Preferred Source’ on Google News for quick access to the news you value.