Congratulations, Celtic - SPL Champions 2004/2005 (GERS … 1 Arabs … 1)

Another 88 minutes without losing a goal. Stef was getting closer all the time to a serious attempt on Chris Woods’ British record for clean sheets. I was sitting there today, about an hour gone, grumbling internally about the fact we looked so unable to score when I suddenly realised we were actually still unbreached at the back since Maritimo away. I was at both games when Woods lost the goals either side of his 1,000+ minutes of goalkeeping perfection. In fact, I was stood on the East Enclosure both when Uwe Rahn notched for Borussia Moenchengladbach in the 1-1 aggregate Uefa Cup draw and when Hamilton Academical Adrian Sproat put us out the Scottish Cup.

Both those goals cost us cups which, in the long run, no-one was unduly upset about exiting given that we were on our way to our first Scottish Championship in nine years during the same 1986/87 season. The Scottish Cup can never compare to the championship and who the hell expected us to lift a European trophy when we couldn’t finsih above third in the half-dozen seasons prior to Woods’ arrival? We got the prize which really counted in the end that year.

Stef’s last concession was also in a Uefa Cup tie which ended 1-1 on aggregate. But the goal in Madeira did not ultimately halt our Uefa Cup progress and, of course, officially the goal lost today to some Shakthar Donetsk-strip-wearing spoon does not prevent us winning the championship. But the long-term loss this time is, I feel, much harder. We seemed to have reahced a break point with the mauling of Amica Wronki. Maintaining that momentum was vital for the ending of doubts surrounding McLeish’s abilities to take us back to the top of the Scottish game.

We ain’t back to square one but it’s maybe square two or three. When Celtic had an attack in the second minute of their game at Almondvale today, they scored. When we had an attack against Dundee United in the second minute of ours, Prso nodded the ball back across the face of the goal and it came off the base of the far post - and back out. By the time we had our second real moment of threat - someone’s shot wasn’t held by the United keeper and the ball threatened to spin over him and into the net but it was cleared to Prso who hooked it into the Broomloan - Celtic were 4-0 up at Livingston.

Livvy came back with two goals - but they were only consolation efforts. Dundee United only scored one late goal - and it’s ruined our season. Inches of bad luck, such as those which kept Prso’s header out the net, are soon translated into acres of failure at this level: He didn’t score becase he wasn’t good enough - there’s no luck, of either type, involved - and now we’re seven points behind the league leaders: It’s not yet November but with Europe almost over for Celtic, I think this means things can only get worse domestically in 2004/2005, rather than indicating we have ample time to retrieve the situation.

The most interesting, exciting occurrences before Nacho Novo eventually broke the deadlock were a mass pant-soiling when some git let off a firework and the appearance at half-time of a huge Steventson Cross Keys RSC flag hanging over the theatrical balcony that is the Club Deck. As an ex-member of the Steventson MASONIC RSC, who used to frown upon the larger, noisier, more sociable/vulgar, Cross Keys as we passed them at Steventson Cross enroute to The Palace, I’d just like to say to the makers and flaunters of that abslutely superb flag “Who ARE ye?! Who ARE Ye? Who ARE ye?!”.

I’m somehow imagining that the succesful conversion of Prso’s early chance would have resulted in the early deluge which a team returning from Eastern Europe on Friday would have required to ensure safe passage through this game. It ain’t necessarily so but we were so lacklustre up front after this near-miss that it needs some sort of explanation. A Euro hangover would be an excuse. Our strikers suddenly being shite is more like the thing. But there is one other possible answer:

I stupidly tempted fate on Thursday night by including the line ” Bluenoses no longer fear we’ll drop points to any non-Old Firm club between now and the Ibrox double-header with The Other Lot” . Doesn’t matter that I ended the whole piece with an acknowledgement of my fate-tempting tendencies. Billy Dodds didn’t get a hat-trick, as my mock-pessimism demanded, but Dundee United did prove once again that Gers@OpenFotball can never, ever be optimistic about any future match - if we are, we will be punished. (yeah, I know, it’s a form of megalomania to think you’re statements on a website no-one reads have any serious effect on a football match in which you actually don’ t play but I need some sort of feeling of control over Rangers’ fortunes. Plus, it was seriously fu**ing stupid to think The Gers were turning a corner because they cut loose in one match against opposition no-one’s ever heard of).

Nacho’s goal looked like the kind which would win any game, anywhere. It had all the drama, skill and burgeoning excitement in the build-up demanded of a game-turning, even a season-turning strike. Up to the point where he cut inside and ran at the United defence then lashed it into the net from 20 yards, Rangers had shown very little.

The two first-half near-things were memorable only for their incongruity with the general pattern of play. We had the ball all the time but we rarely looked like doing anything with it. The problem was the front-men. Burke did little, Arveladze was back to his anonymous worst. Novo was too far wide and Prso, for all his toil, needed another striker right beside him. Someone like - mmmm, I dunno - Nacho Novo perhaps!?

Bob Malcolm was imperious in midfield - like a man with horrifically dangly testicles, his long balls were utterly spellbinding - and the defence was by and large untested. Vignal continues to make ridiculously amateurish mistakes when there’s absolutey no pressure on him but he always gets away with it. The only laugh today was when Gregory decided he wanted to smack Colin Samuel, after the United striker had hacked him down rather viciously - there was none other than Fernando Ricksen, holding Gregory back, advising him to keep cool and not incurr a silly booking. Pots and kettles all round!

Nach was booked for over-celebrating the goal. As far as I could see, all that happened was he got the shoe-shine treatment from one of his team-mates and then crossed over the touchline to celebrate with the East Enclosure and the team manager. If it’s in the ref’s guidelines thatthis merits a yellow then fair enough but it’s a stupid rule. Football needs showmanship to flourish and as long as it’s not deliberately inciting anyone it should be encouraged rather than punished. The moment the wee man received his yellow Ibrox descended into a bear-pit of throat-ripping dissent. It was Nach himself who lightened the mood by continuing to celebrate with the Govan Stand, even after his card … even after the restart! He pulled his jersey outwards in that frantic, over-psyched way we haven’t seen since Arteta left.

Having got the goal, we stupidly let our foot off the gas. Thompson was on for Arveladze but we got nervous rather than more assured upon taking the lead. Did we get too cocky about our recent defensive reacord? Did we underestimate United - the team who recenly lost five goals to Kris Boyd at Rugby Park? Were we just too knackered?

United won a free kick at the edge of the box. They hit the wall, we didn’t clear properly, Prso brought someone down just a few yards away from the site of the original free kick and again a direct kick was awarded. Bary Robson had another chance. What happened next seemed so inevitable it almost took the sting from the equaliser.

However, it looks like the poision will fester for months.