Celtic is the last draw Derek McInnes wanted to get.

There are two games with Celtic coming up in September, and Derek McInnes does not want them. I genuinely believe that.

He knows what is waiting for him. He knows what Celtic are becoming and, most importantly, he knows what it feels like to walk into a huge Celtic game with everything on the line and discover that Celtic Park has teeth.

Because I have not forgotten the last day of last season. Not for one second.

That was the title decider. Hearts arrived at Celtic Park knowing that a draw would be enough to make history. McInnes had taken them to the top of the table and they had spent months dreaming about that trophy.

Then they came to Paradise. And Celtic did what Celtic do when the pressure becomes enormous. We won 3-1. Celtic retained the title and Hearts’ dream collapsed in front of the green-and-white wall.

So, forgive me if I look at these September fixtures now with a wee Ginger Witch smile on my face, because I remember the atmosphere, the tension, McInnes on that touchline and what happened when Celtic finally turned the screw.

Now, before anybody starts shouting at me, I am not saying Derek McInnes is literally going to walk into the dressing room screaming, “Please don’t make me play Celtic!”

Of course not. This is football. Managers talk about belief, preparation, confidence, mentality and all the usual stuff. I am talking about something more human.

Fear. Not childish fear. Football fear. The little voice in your head that remembers what happened the last time you stood in that kind of storm. And McInnes remembers. How could he be expected to forget? It stalks his every moment.

He had already experienced the biggest possible Celtic test with Hearts. His team only needed to avoid defeat. Celtic had to win. The whole footballing world was watching.

And Celtic broke them. That matters because psychology matters in football, especially when you are facing the same opponent again in a major cup tie.

This time there is no league table to hide behind, no accumulation of points and no comfort of thinking there is another game next week. A cup match is brutally simple. Win and continue. Lose and you’re out.

That makes September very interesting indeed.

The first Celtic game is already a huge derby cup occasion, with Celtic and McInnes’ Ibrox club drawn together in the Premier Sports Cup quarter-final. Then, only days later, comes another meeting in the league. Two games. Two Celtic tests.

And I can almost hear the noise already.

Because playing St Mirren is one thing. Coming up against The Celtic Lions when the stakes are enormous is something else entirely. This is where I think McInnes has a problem.

He can build his Ibrox side. He can change formation. He can bring in players, talk about improvement and beat St Mirren 5-1 so everybody can breathe again. Fine. But Celtic are not St Mirren. Celtic are Celtic. And McInnes knows that.

He knows there is a psychological mountain to climb in this fixture. He knows the expectation at Ibrox is already suffocating, and he knows Celtic have already demonstrated that when the pressure is greatest, we can become something very different.

That is why I keep coming back to the title decider.

Hearts arrived at Celtic Park with history sitting in front of them. They were one result away from doing something extraordinary. They had led the Premiership for huge parts of the season, they had belief and momentum, and McInnes had built a side that had already achieved the early season impossibility of splitting the Glasgow teams.

But Celtic stood there and said: Not today. That 3-1 victory was not merely three points and a title. It was a statement that still rings out. It was Celtic reminding Scottish football that when the crown is actually on the table, the champions know how to reach for it.

Now McInnes has to face that mentality from the other side of the divide.

That is why I say he is scared. Not necessarily scared of individual Celtic players. Not scared in some childish sense. Already I think he’s wondering if it’s even worth turning up. He isn’t just afraid of Celtic, of course. He has built up in his head this notion that the game in Scotland is run by Celtic. Over and over he will hear the words in his head; they won’t let us win. Which right away gives him the worst thing he can have; an alibi for failure.

An excuse to hide behind when things go wrong.

And I think this cup match could be even worse psychologically. A title decider gives you the comfort of knowing that the whole season has built towards it. You can, in the aftermath, cling to decisions that happened weeks ago and take some solace in them. A cup quarter-final gives you no such luxury.

One bad night. One mistake. One Celtic goal. One spell of pressure. Suddenly your domestic ambitions and managerial project are being discussed through the word failure. That is the cruelty of knockout football. And Celtic are perfectly capable of exploiting it. Our record in domestic cup football this past decade is almost unreal.

Now imagine being in his position. You have moved from Hearts to the Ibrox club. You are under completely different pressure. You are expected to challenge Celtic immediately. And almost straight away, September puts Celtic twice in front of you.

A cup tie. Then a league meeting. One home, one away. Two separate tests. Two different competitions. Imagine losing them both?

Some Ibrox fans think they have the advantage of the first game at home. They are wrong. Imagine the reaction to that first game if you’ve lost it? How do you repair that psychological damage to go and visit the Champions at Celtic Park?

I know what I would be thinking if I were him:

Not Celtic. Anybody but Celtic.

But football does not care what you want.

And neither does Celtic. That is the beauty of it. I can already feel that old Celtic energy beginning to rise again. The Green and White Lion is awake, the new signings are arriving, the squad is beginning to look hungry and the goals are coming.

So, when September arrives, Celtic will not be walking into these games frightened of Ibrox. The home club will be the ones hiding in the dressing room wondering what Celtic are going to do to them.

And I think McInnes understands that full well.

He has already lived through the Celtic Park experience when everything mattered. He has already watched a title slip through his fingers there. He has already seen Celtic turn pressure into power. Now he has to face us again. Twice.

Maybe this time he will tell himself it is different. Maybe he will look at the St Mirren result and think his own team is finally waking up. But I am looking at Celtic.

I am thinking about that last day. I am thinking about the noise, the pressure and the moment when Celtic simply refused to surrender their crown.

And I am thinking: if Derek McInnes was uncomfortable facing Celtic then, why would he suddenly be comfortable now?

This is not a league decider. I know that. But psychologically, it has many of the same ingredients. High stakes. Massive expectation. One team desperate to prove itself and another which already knows what it feels like to win when the pressure becomes suffocating. So bring on September.

Bring on the cup. Bring on the league game.

Let Derek McInnes talk about tactics. Let him talk about belief. I will be sitting here with my wee Ginger Witch instincts fully switched on, watching Celtic prepare for battle in the knowledge that this guy has never been under this kind of pressure in his career, and whatever pressure he has been under before broke him.

I expect nothing less from my Celtic Lions than breaking him again.

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