Celtic 7 Aberdeen 0
16th October 1999
match report

Hail Hail Gang

The alarm clock screeched its existence at 06.30 this morning, to gleefully remind me that I would be doing a sacrilegious bout of overtime on this holy-football-Saturday. It was a surreal feeling walking along Bath Street to Charing Cross on a peaceful Saturday morning. The early papers at Glasgow Central advised of Mark Burchill allegedly demanding that John Barnes change his 4-2-2-2 formation to allow three strikers up front, namely himself alongside Larsson and Viduka. The usual unfounded, pure speculation, guess work of the sports media also suggested that Fergus McCann would not be donating money for the club's academy, as the predicted number of supporters had not applied for shares. The fact that the smaller number had each applied for a more substantial amount of shares than expected, was only given a cursory mention in their freshly baked theory. On a more humorous tone, the previous night's radio gossip that Motherwell's Billy Davies had been sacked, to enable the return to Scottish Football for Mr Tactics, Tommy Burns, was being rebutted by owner John Boyle. The four hours of work passed quickly as the 3pm event line approached. A joking enquiry from Margaret, the office's gorgeous Timmette, about how it would feel to be the first side to be beaten by the woeful Aberdeen, was the only tic related interruption as boring workloads made the hours fly by. A quick pit stop for a few vodkas in The Griffin, purely for a source of inner heat on this chilly day you understand, and it was off on the journey to the emerald city.

Traversing the crossroads at Dalmarnock railway station, I gave out a sigh of anticipation as finally I could again experience a home league tie. My warm breath collided with the fresh October Scottish air and immediately crystallised into a cloud of steam. As the vapour cloud cleared, the steel tips of the daunting North Stand rose above the tree line that edged Nuneaton Street. A simple sight that can speed the pulse and shiver the spine. Fellow travellers moaned about the league's computer system and mooted conspiracy theories, to the amusement of their compatriots. Something was certainly wrong. Midway through October and I was only tearing out voucher 4 from my book. I raised a smile as two teenage scallywags in front of me, dived over the turnstile and disappeared into the bowels of the stadium for free. The smile quickly formed a frown of realisation though, as I slid my £400 pound voucher through the window slot.

The blazing red shirts of Aberdeen trooped out alongside the Celtic heroes and their dismal records and performances meant that not one stir of fear was felt watching their arrival. A minute's silence for two recently departed Celtic players was immaculately served by both sets of fans. As I settled back in my seat, little did I know that a delicious afternoon's entertainment was about to unfold. Neither did the Aberdeen fans who noisily voiced their support and continued to do so for the first twenty minutes. During this period they actually put the silent home support to shame, although my own personal excuse for this, is that our early display was so beautifully mesmerising that I sat with my fellow brethren in silent awe, gripped by each twist and turn, like reading a engrossing best seller. Reverse passes, cute flicks, one touch caresses, shots and headers, shimmies and dummies. Every lightning move ripped the red shirts to pieces. Celtic had bolted out of the gates like horses struck with cattle prods. Forget all the reminders and excuses about pathetic Aberdeen that would come during the later stages of the game and after the game, our play at the start would have shaken any team. Berkovich in particular, seemed doubly eager to shine after his rest. Daring runs and infallible vision were being performed by Eyal and Lubo, as they threaded the ball through every tiny tear in the red defensive shawl. Viduka, Burley, Larsson and Lambert positively thrived on this creativity and jostled to be next fed from the masters' feet. Burley had a shot deflected, then shot over. Even Alan Stubbs raced up to be involved in all the excitement and saw a strong shot shudder the left post. Yet another reverse pass and Berkovich found Henrik racing across his path. He easily sped past defender and keeper and with over 50,000 gladly betting their homes on the net bulging, his acutely angled shot met with the right hand post.

He had struck the other post only moments earlier and must have been wondering if he was going to have one of those days at the office. Keeper Preece had already bravely smothered several attempts and had dived to palm away a goal bound, Stubbsy free kick and he would continue to shine for the visitors. He was easily their best man and the final score would be an insult to his heroics. Inevitably the first of the day arrived and how sweet it was. That freeze frame moment where a spectator places themselves in the position of the player and either shouts 'shoot' or actually kicks out with their own foot, was in evidence when Eyal caught up with the ball inside the box. The keeper faced him and his leg pulled back like a trigger. As frantic supporters called or mimed for the chance to be attempted, the super cool Israeli flicked his head to the right and spotted a defender lunging in. Without a moments hesitation, he used his raised leg to drag back the ball, let the charging defender commit himself, and then slammed the ball between player and keeper into the net. Sheer class. His intelligence was to be called upon minutes later in a more sombre moment, when he signalled to the bench that he had recognised a strain of some kind. He was replaced by Blinker and was seen limping up the tunnel for treatment, punching the wall in frustration. Hopefully his wisdom and early call will prove beneficial as the squad is assembled for Thursday's game with Lyon.

More sweeping moves led to more attempts having to be rebuffed by Preece. Lubo was now on fire and his skilful contribution would give a nightmare to the man-of-the-match selectors who would eventually opt for hat-trick Henrik. Larsson opened his account by subtly connecting with a Burley cross. Craig dispatched the package across the 18 yard line and without stopping to read or check the contents, Henrik professionally forwarded it on with his right foot to its destination at the rear of the goal. A gap of time would separate goal 2 and 3 but if you placed a mirror in the middle of the pitch and exchanged Lubo for Burley, you have an exact match. Lubo crossed from the left and with red shirts hanging motionless on their hangers, Henrik leaped into the space like a gazelle and swept the ball with his raised left foot, passed Preece for number three. By this time the visiting fans were avoiding eye contact with the pitch and singing Flower of Scotland. As one witty onlooker pointed out, perhaps they should have 'wished they were at the rugby instead'.

3-0 was a great way to close the first half. It should be noted however that in the last ten minutes or so, we did commit some sloppy errors and gave Aberdeen a chance to grab the first ever opposition goal at Parkhead this season. Slight complacency, lucky breaks and poor decisions, gifted Winters, Jess and Young some excellent chances. Thankfully poor finishing or great goal keeping maintained the clean sheet. Gould on the whole was a spectator but when called upon, he made some fine saves, one in particular a razor sharp reflex to a pouncing header inside the 6 yard box. Tebily caused two of the main errors and although this may be unfair to make a decision on so few appearances but I think I have had it with the big man. His skill, athleticism and composure are undoubted, as he proved on several occasions in several challenges. But it is this knowledge of his virtues that make his constant day dreaming all the worse to bear. A severe lack of concentration is not understating the issue. Like many others I have called for a new left and right back to improve the team but I find myself pleading for a Tebily replacement as well. Ironically, Riseth excelled himself at left back today. Good marking and decent challenges were matched with strong running and constantly offered assistance to others. A few of his crosses went too deep but this complaint could also be levelled at Lubo early on. While everything seemed to be going right on the deck and to the feet, there were many crosses, corners and volleys that went totally astray from their mark.

I felt that Jackie went a long way to regaining his glory today. He linked rather well with the front men and had some good exchanges with Moravcik. There were times when he was too slow in offering himself as a runner on the wing but then he could use the many times that his unhindered presence was completely ignored, as a decent excuse for this. Burley and particularly Lambert, were excellent in midfield. As stated earlier, they seemed to thrive on the creativity of their midfield counterparts and were well up for the game. Lambert and Stubbs took turns at expertly sweeping up stray balls and broken attacks. The three subs Blinker, Mjalleby and Burchill also gave good accounts of themselves. Mjalleby quiet and clinical, Burchill wiry and eager to feed from Viduka scraps, and Blinker keen to hassle and harry.

No one expected that we would see four more goals in the second period but come they did. Viduka decided to copy Henrik and grab two goals. The first came with absolute ease. Moravcik, yes him again, snaked his way along the bye line from the left corner flag and with the help of a depressed defender, the ball came to Viduka. The big Aussie simply twisted and cracked the ball in. This prompted an hilarious angry debate between two fans behind me. 'Lazy big git' sneered the first, 'Lazy big scoring git' rebuked the second. This debate would rage on till the ref blew the final whistle. Viduka meanwhile collected his second. Mr Guess Which Slovakian chipped the ball from the right this time, for Larsson who quickly passed it on to Viduka who was running in on goal. Preece brilliantly saved the first but unlike his first half double save from Moravcik, he couldn't stop Big Mark from slamming home the rebound. 'He was racing in there like a stag' announced Viduka's smug supporter, 'aye, a big lazy f****n stag' grumbled his critic. Another bizarre moment was triggered by Viduka's goal. The tannoy suddenly burst into a rendition of The Magnificent Seven, as if to prophecy the result, or to at least request it.

Larsson edged ahead of Viduka again and completed his personal rout by climbing high to head down a Moravcik corner, that the goal line defender could only slam up into his own net. Ball in net and he was off, sticking his oral appendage into the afternoon air. Forget your Euro meat debates and beef on the bone embargoes, this Swedish tongue is the best delicacy at the table. All during this half, up to and past Viduka's repeat of Henrik's hat-trick, the home fans found their voice, Aberdeen lost theirs and Celtic enjoyed acres of space to put on their show, while the sorry red shirts chased disaster from pillar to post. They are in one sorry state and had once again led Celtic fans to utter the question 'were we so good or were they so bad?'. Viduka finished the show with the aid of Blinker, who passed the ball to his feet at the left corner of the box, with his back to the goal. Viduka spun around 180 degrees, lost his snugly fitting marker and swerved the ball around the despairing keeper. The stands jumped as one body, while a sole chap two rows in front sat with his head in his hands. Some of his neighbours deciphered his mumblings and grumblings and realised that he had put money on a 6-0 scoreline. The 'Big Lazy Viduka' debate went into overdrive and was thankfully drowned out by the tannoy.

Mr Dougal mercifully ended Aberdeen's torture and cruelly ended Celtic's hedonistic delight. Paul Lambert, after seeing a few long range efforts just dip over the bar, finally gave up on joining the score sheet and headed for the dressing room. The 60,000+ crowd also took their leave, after basking in the digital rays of the tv screens that replayed each goal in all its glory. The delicious cake's cherry was of course the knowledge that the forces of darkness had just completed a very rare away league tie and in proving they were not up to the challenge, they dropped two points at Kilmarnock.

The retreat through milling crowds, edging cars, rumbling coaches, police horses, mazes of dropped litter and discarded chip boxes was a pleasant one. Fifteen minutes to the next train and I contemplated on the sheer enjoyment of the day. A calm euphoria seemed to shield every faithful brother and sister. It had all been so nice, so easy, so peacefully enjoyable. Just a fantastic day out, in the name of the hooped cause. It was in this moment of calm, that the train carriages screeched to a halt and a chilled warning gripped me. As the delectable Margaret had pointed out at work on Friday, with the impending fixtures of old firm ties, meetings with Lyon and auld enemy internationals, there are days ahead that hold a plethora of opportunities for heart attacks and nail biting. And with that, the packed train lurched into the exciting and fearful unknown.............

Yours in Celtic,
Ricky Swan
carlukeshamrock.com

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