Celtic 3—Shak Karagandy 0

This was the big one. This was massive. This was when life and the death of our season hung by the ligaments of a severed sheep’s head (much has been made of our Asian friend’s propensity to sacrifice sheep for a good luck omen and as a kind of voodoo-we just eat sheep and of course we woo them to death with love songs of pastures green). Anyway, Shak are shak. They are the worst team I’ve seen in the Champions League and how they got to the third stage of the elimination round is beyond me. I blame voodoo. After the first leg, when they hypnotised us by the long throw I took to calling they Yoker, after the crap junior team that plays at Holm Park up the road from me. Karagandy very nearly had me eating my words. I quite like words so that wouldn’t have been much of a problem. The problem would have been the boredom of nomadic existence from pub to home without any meaning. Without the Champions League football in Scotland is also Shak. I would have shrivelled up and hibernated. Now with the prospect of Barcelona (we always seem to get them) AC Milan and Ajax I’m a red meat eating man again and ready to roar. It’s a group of Champions that have been champions of Europe. We, of course, won it in 1967. Nearly 50 years ago. Can we win it again? I’m just hoping we can finish fourth in the group. I’m hoping we win a point. I’m hoping we win a game. I’m hoping for all of these things. But I’m relieved and delighted to be there. C’mon the Celts!