The Wrecker. One man broke Celtic this season.

John Kennedy. A fantastic player for Celtic. One of our own. And if Charlie Mulgrew is right, a man pushed out while that clown Paul Tisdale gained influence at the club. Add that to a growing bill that can be partially laid at his door.

After decades of service, Kennedy chose another club over Celtic.

Why? We already know Tisdale played a role in overruling Rodgers; it is no surprise to learn that he was also active in undermining Kennedy. So, the question is, who in God’s name ever thought that hat-wearing fraud was good enough to be anywhere near this club?

To be honest, of all the mistakes Celtic has made in this campaign, bringing in Paul Tisdale may be the worst of the lot. Some know-all dick from south of the border somehow got into the ears of the most important people at the club and convinced them of his genius. What did that genius deliver?

Brendan Rodgers, gone. John Kennedy, gone. Nancy, hired and fired.

That is the legacy of Tisdale’s supposed high IQ and grand football brain. What he touched, he damaged. What he influenced, he made worse. And the most infuriating part is that nobody has taken responsibility for bringing him here in the first place.

That failure belongs to the Celtic board.

The truth is, I knew when Brendan Rodgers left that Celtic would begin to crumble, and that is exactly what has happened.

We are watching it happen.

I cannot shake that feeling in my chest, that heavy, gnawing ache that comes when something you love is quietly taken apart piece by piece right in front of you, and you stand there asking how on earth anyone allowed it to happen.

When I heard Charlie Mulgrew talk about people forcing John Kennedy out, allegedly pushing him aside under the influence of Paul Tisdale, I did not hear dressing-room gossip or some throwaway media noise. I heard something much deeper than that. I heard something that cuts right to the soul of Celtic.

And I sit here thinking, how did we get here?

Because John Kennedy, to me, was not just a member of the coaching staff. I know what Kennedy was. I never had the chance to watch him play, but I hear of a generational talent who would have been at the heart of Celtic’s defence for years.

And I know about the bastard who put him out of the game too; a thug called Ganea who viciously scythed him down 15 minutes into his international debut for Scotland.

In the aftermath, Celtic looked after him and he looked after Celtic. Instead of walking away, instead of turning away from the club after his playing career was shattered, he stayed. He gave himself to Celtic in a different way. Quietly. Loyally. Committed. One of our own. He joined the coaching staff. He proved himself invaluable.

That matters to me. It always has. That kind of commitment is what Celtic thrives on. That sort of love for the club is what makes it great.

So, when I hear that people could force a man like that out while outsiders and voices from elsewhere somehow gained influence and authority, I feel something between anger and disbelief. Because what does that say about the people making the decisions at Celtic?

What does that say about how little the club understands its own identity?

How did anyone permit it? Who gave Paul Tisdale that licence?

I will be honest, I still struggle to understand how someone like him ever ended up in a position of influence at Celtic. Who looked at that situation and thought, aye, that is the man we need whispering in the ears of those running our club?

Because from where I am sitting, looking at the wreckage left behind, I do not see high IQ or genius thinking. I see chaos and disruption. I see decisions that feel completely disconnected from the very fabric of Celtic.

He is damned by his own comments. This is a man who sat at an investor evening and told Celtic’s most well heeled fans that we were not an elite level club, and he wasn’t saying it in the manner of someone who had a plan to change that.

It was him telling our own people not to get too cocky or ambitious and to know our place. That is the kind of thinking he brought with him. Who the Hell heard that and thought, “Aye, this guy will do.”

The consequences of that decision are staring us right in the face.

Brendan Rodgers, gone. John Kennedy, gone. Perhaps our grip on the title, gone.

Managers coming and going like passing shadows. Ideas half-formed. Projects started and abandoned before they even had the chance to breathe. I ask myself, what was the plan? What was the vision? Because if there was one, I can’t see it.

This is Francis of Assisi’s famous words in reverse “Where there is harmony, I will bring discord.” That’s all the man did at Celtic Park. He sowed chaos.

I see a club that let a rank incompetent influence and steer it. I see good men who others smeared and overruled.

That word sticks with me. Overruled. Because if someone took decisions over the head of someone like Rodgers, and if others marginalised and ignored Kennedy, then we are talking about a breakdown not only in leadership, but in trust.

And once trust goes, everything else starts to crumble.

I remember the moment Rodgers left. I remember the feeling in my gut, that quiet dread that something bigger was coming. Not just a managerial change, but a shift. A destabilisation. The kind of moment that sends ripples through everything.

I said it then, even if only to myself: this will have consequences.

I did not know exactly what those consequences would look like, but I knew they would come. Because Celtic is not a football club that can absorb upheaval like this without feeling it. We are built on continuity and identity.

And when you start pulling at those threads, when you start removing the people who understand that and live it, you risk unravelling something much greater than a squad or a coaching team. You risk unravelling the soul of the club.

The mistake some of us made was in assuming that it was Nancy who rocked the boat hardest, that he represented the break from the norm. What we are learning now is that the break from the norm came before that, with Tisdale himself. He was the disruptive element, he was the chaos agent who thought he could rip it up and start again and build Celtic in his own image. A tosser in a daft hat. Just what we needed.

What hurts me most, what truly frustrates me, is not just that mistakes were made. Every club makes mistakes. That is football. That is life.

It is that nobody seems willing to take responsibility for them.

Because let’s be honest, appointing Tisdale, giving him that level of influence and allowing him to shape decisions at the highest level did not happen by accident. That was a choice. A deliberate choice. So where is the accountability for it?

Where are the voices standing up and saying we got this wrong? Everyone knows they got it wrong, and not just badly wrong. Catastrophically wrong.

Until someone is made accountable, how can we trust that anything has changed? How can we believe the same mistakes will not be made all over again?

I look at the board and I can’t help feeling that this whole mess traces back to them. It traces back to decisions made behind closed doors. It traces back to priorities that lost sight of what Celtic really is.

And that is the real fear for me.

Not just that we have had a bad run, a chaotic season or a series of poor decisions.

It is that somewhere along the line, the people in charge forgot what Celtic means.

They forgot that this is a club built on more than results. More than strategy. More than corporate nonsense. It is built on identity. On belonging. On people like John Kennedy, who are Celtic, not just employees of it.

And when those people get pushed aside, when their voices are ignored or silenced, something precious gets lost.

I feel it. I think a lot of us feel it.

That sense that we are drifting. That we have allowed the wrong influences to take hold. That we have moved away from the very things that once made us strong. That too many people at this club have the wrong set of priorities.

I want the board to look at what has happened, not just the results on the pitch, but the decisions off it, and really reflect. I want them to understand that bringing in voices who do not understand the club, who do not live and breathe it, comes at a cost.

A heavy one. And I want us to find our way back.

Back to valuing our own and trusting the people who know what Celtic is about. Back to making decisions that align not only with ambition, but with identity. Because right now, it feels like we lost our way.

And if the rumours, the whispers and the claims about Kennedy are true, then this was not just a mistake. It was a betrayal of something deeper. Something that should never have been compromised.

So aye, I sit here angry. Frustrated. Disappointed.

And I am hoping that this moment, this mess, this chaos, becomes a turning point. Hoping that those in charge finally see the damage that has been done, not just to results, but to trust.

I feel as though I have watched Celtic lose a part of its soul this season, drifting away from the very identity that made me fall in love with the club in the first place. It hurts. It angers me. But above all, I feel there has to be an accounting from those who allowed the wrecker to come in and blow up this club.

Because Celtic deserves better than this, and so do we.

And so did John Kennedy.

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