Go, my Celtic Lions! Today make Paradise roar!

Before the last derby of the 2025/26 season, this is the kind of message that comes from the bottom of my heart and soul, and from the heart and soul of every Celt who knows exactly what this fixture means.

So let me motivate our boys in green and white and send them my full support.

To the Boys in Green and White,

I can feel it already.

Deep in my bones. Deep in my heart. Deep within that part of me which has survived storms, battles, triumphs and glory, I can feel this game coming closer like thunder rolling across the Glasgow sky.

The world feels different. Even from Poland I can feel it. The air feels heavier. The fire is rising. The green and white heartbeat of Celtic is beginning to shake the streets once again, and every instinct inside me tells me this final derby of the season belongs to Celtic Football Club.

This is not just another match. This is history breathing through the walls of Paradise. This is pride wrapped in green and white hoops walking into battle once again. This is the biggest club in Scotland standing tall before the whole country and reminding everybody exactly who we are.

Celtic, I want you to hammer them.

I want you to go out there with the swagger of champions and the fury of warriors. I want you to suffocate them with football, with hunger, with movement, with courage and with that glorious Celtic confidence which terrifies them every single time we rise together.

Because while they spent this season talking endlessly about themselves, dreaming loudly and convincing themselves they were coming for Celtic’s throne, reality crushed them. One by one, everything disappeared from their hands.

Cups lost. League gone. Expectations shattered. Excuses flowing like rainwater down the Clyde. Meanwhile, Celtic still stand where Celtic have always belonged. Above them. Stronger. Bigger. More glorious. Wrapped in history they can never imitate. Wrapped in soul they can never manufacture. Wrapped in the love of those who understand what this club truly means.

I want every single Celtic player to remember exactly what it means when those famous Hoops touch your skin on Sunday afternoon.

Callum McGregor, our captain, our leader, our quiet warrior. You carry the soul of Celtic every time you step onto that pitch. There is something noble about the way you lead this club, calm in the chaos, fearless under pressure, always driving forward. Lead them one more time into battle and remind Glasgow why this club trusts you with its heartbeat.

Liam Scales, fight for every blade of grass. Show them the courage and heart which built this football club in the first place.

Alistair Johnston, charge forward with that endless energy which lifts the support to its feet roaring. Bring the fire. Bring the aggression. Make them feel you every second.

Reo Hatate, let your football dance again. Glide through them with elegance and brilliance until they are chasing shadows beneath the Paradise lights.

Arne Engels, this is your stage. Show your quality, your composure and your hunger in the biggest fixture of them all.

Daizen Maeda, unleash chaos upon them. Chase everything. Hunt every loose ball. Make their defenders panic every time they hear your footsteps coming closer.

James Forrest, one of our own. A man who understands this fixture, this club and this support better than most ever could. Bring your experience, your calmness and your Celtic soul onto that pitch.

To every single player who pulls on that jersey today, understand this clearly. You do not wear those hoops for yourselves alone. You wear them for every supporter who built this club with love, sacrifice and loyalty.

You wear them for every old supporter whose eyes still shine when they speak about Lisbon. You wear them for every young dreamer wrapped in green and white scarves, believing Celtic players are giants.

You wear them for the supporters who carried this club through generations, because Celtic is not merely a football team. Celtic is family. Identity. Memory. Culture. Belonging. All tied together beneath those sacred hoops.

My Ginger Witch senses are screaming loudly to me now that today has already been written in green and white somewhere beyond the horizon. I can almost hear the roar before kick-off. I can picture the flags waving proudly through the smoke and noise. I can feel Paradise trembling beneath the feet of thousands preparing to sing their hearts out for Celtic once again. I can also sense fear across the city.

Because deep down, they know exactly what Celtic are capable of when this club smells blood. They know Celtic are stronger. They know Celtic are champions. They know Celtic carry something they can never truly possess. Greatness woven naturally into the soul of the club itself. They fear us because of what we are. And because of what they know they are.

So, today, show no hesitation. Show no mercy. Play with courage. Play with arrogance. Play with beauty. Play with fury. Fight for every tackle. Run for every supporter. Punish every mistake they make. When the chance comes to finish them, take it.

Because when the final whistle blows this afternoon, I want the whole football world looking towards Celtic once again and seeing exactly what greatness in green and white truly looks like. One last derby. One last battle.

One last glorious statement before the curtain falls.

We are three wins from being champions again.

Now go and make Paradise roar.

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