Celtic is a club in freefall. A team without belief. A manager playing out time

A late win over Motherwell was supposed to be a springboard, a moment to build from. Instead, looking back, it feels like the warning we ignored…

Because what unfolded at Dens Park yesterday wasn’t a blip or an off day. It was confirmation that Celtic, from the boardroom to the dugout, are looking lost.

Out-fought and out-thought by Dundee, a team that hadn’t beaten us at home in 37 years, Celtic fell 2–0, and the scoreline barely flattered the hosts.

The defeat leaves Celtic five points behind Hearts, with a Tynecastle showdown next weekend that already feels season-defining. The manager had a fortnight to address glaring problems, both in personnel and tactical approach. Yet we turned up at Dens Park looking exactly the same. No belief. No creativity. No urgency.

It’s staggering that a manager of Brendan Rodgers’ calibre could oversee two full weeks of preparation and still produce a performance this flat. Nothing changed, nothing improved, and nothing suggested there’s any real work being done behind the scenes.

For all the anger swirling around the club, the away support were immense. Yes, there was a protest at kick-off, tennis balls thrown in frustration at the board, but when that moment passed, the backing was total. Even at two goals down, they sang. They’ve never stopped believing. Sadly, it feels like they’re the only ones left who do.

The goals we lost told their own story. Dundee’s opener came from a corner, Clark Robertson rising unchallenged as Carter-Vickers lost his man. The second was even worse, the same defender deflecting the ball into his own net after a moment of panic and poor positioning. Both moments were self-inflicted. Both moments were avoidable.

Celtic had the ball, as always, over 80% of it, in fact. But what did they actually do with it? One Iheanacho shot off the post. One KT sitter. One Hatate effort blocked. A late Balikwisha strike well saved. And around 700 passes, most of them leading absolutely nowhere.

Here’s the stat that really stands out, Celtic completed roughly 700 passes to Dundee’s 150. On paper, that sounds dominant. In reality, it’s damning. Only 199 of those passes were forward. Eighty-five went backwards. You can do the sums for what happened to the rest.

That means for every time Celtic tried to play with intent, there were four more passes going sideways or back. This is football that goes nowhere, possession for the sake of possession, an endless loop of recycling that gives every opponent time to reset and breathe. Even Dundee, with just 18% of the ball, never looked uncomfortable. They didn’t need to press. They just watched Celtic pass themselves into submission.

Worryingly, Brendan Rodgers looks like a man who’s lost interest. His pre-match interview was flat, his in-game changes timid, his tactics baffling. The three-at-the-back switch in the second half was particularly lopsided, effectively dropping a right-back for a striker, creating gaps and confusion, and the whole thing felt like it was being run on autopilot.

Rodgers is supposed to be a top-level coach. But where’s the coaching? Where’s the spark? Where’s the improvement? Instead, we’re watching a team going through the motions, led by a manager who seems to be doing the same. His post-match comments about makes and models of cars sounded like a politician making excuses long after they’ve inherited the mess. Explanations might fly for a few months, but responsibility doesn’t go away. Sooner or later, the solutions have to come.

It’s the same for Rodgers. No wingers to trust? Play wing-backs. No strikers? Play a false nine.
Do something. Don’t just deflect. Excuses are fine until the window closes. After that, a coach of Rodgers’ standing should have found workable solutions, domestically at least, to see this team through to January. The board won’t act, they’ll wait him out to save on compensation. So, either the manager earns his coin, or the form continues.

This is now the sixth game this season where Celtic have failed to score. We’ve gone from taking Bayern Munich to the last minute in Europe nine months ago to being second-best to Dundee. The fall-off isn’t gradual. It’s a nosedive.

The board’s obsession with profit over progress has left us with a weaker, thinner squad and now it appears, a disinterested manager. The team has no invention, no intensity, and no identity. What used to be fast, fearless football is now sterile, risk-averse, and absolutely joyless. Celtic were once a team that made opponents fear what was coming. Now, they make opponents comfortable.

Fair play to Dundee, they were everything we weren’t, organised, committed and confident. They didn’t need the ball, they just needed belief. Pressley’s side understood the assignment, frustrate, wait, punish, and executed it perfectly. They earned every bit of their win. Meanwhile, Celtic spent 82% of the match holding the ball and doing next to nothing with it.

Now comes the biggest domestic test yet, Hearts at Tynecastle. And based on current evidence, who genuinely believes this Celtic team has the courage, structure, or spark to go there and fight for it?

That last-minute winner over Motherwell was supposed to be the start of something. In truth, it was a warning, the moment we should have realised that luck, not form, was keeping this season afloat. And when the luck runs out, as it did at Dens Park, what’s left is an uncomfortable truth.

Celtic is a club in freefall. A team without belief. A manager, it seems, playing out time. And a fanbase still standing, still singing, still waiting, for someone, anyone, to care as much as they do.

Niall J

Celtic in the Eighties by David Potter, signed copies by Danny McGrain available from celticstarbooks.com 

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