ALEX’S ANGLE: PROPHETS AND LOSS

BACK in the summer of 2006, Scotland’s national newspapers followed the time-honoured custom of asking their soccer scribes to give their considered predictions for the forthcoming season.

One journal’s twenty or so sportswriters – these were the days when print editions still sold in reasonable numbers – were unanimous in their selection for title winners.

I won’t embarrass the tabloid by flagging up its title, but, to a man, the football newshounds unwaveringly elected to ignore the claims of every other team – including the champions – and give the nod to the side that had won absolutely nothing in the previous campaign.

Rangers got the thumbs up and Celtic, who had lifted the crown with an 18-point advantage over the Govan club only a couple of months earlier, were dismissed to the no-hopers’ category.

What on earth had changed in such a short interval? What had brought about this startling metamorphosis?

DERBY DESPAIR…Paul le Guen watches Celtic beat his Rangers side 2-0 in his first Old Firm encounter at Parkhead in September 2006.

Paul le Guen had agreed to replace Alex McLeish in the Govan dug-out and that was enough to trigger a frenzy of unbridled optimism among the scribblers.

Gordon Strachan and his all-conquering Celtic stars plus everyone else were to be utilised as mere bit-part players in the months ahead with a steady stream of silverware pre-destined for the Light Blues’ trophy cabinet.

The cleaning ladies would once again by required to look out the Brasso – or whatever you use to keep the trophies sparkling – as their elbows would be tasked with piston-like precision and dexterity.

Emphasising David Murray had indeed conjured up a coup, there were reports that Le Guen, who had won three successive championships at Lyon, had knocked back the advances of mighty Real Madrid to beat a speedy and uninterrupted course towards Govan.

Hmmmm.

I seemed to recall identical unconfirmed tales of Dick Advocaat doing something similar when the Dutchman, who liked to be known as ‘The Little General’, arrived on these shores in 1998.

What a coincidence, dear reader.

NO LAUGHING MATTER…Pedro Caixinho shares a joke with Brendan Rodgers before Celtic’s 5-1 win at Ibrox on April 29 2017.

It makes you wonder if the 15 times champions of Europe also failed in similar attempts to snare the likes of Mark Warburton or Pedro Caixinho.

Possibly Michael Beale, Russell Martin and Danny Rohl were also on their wishlist and, once again, the Spanish giants were stymied by the lure of all things Rangers?

Indeed, was Jose Mourinho’s Bernabeu return under genuine threat from Derek McInnes?

Is the moon made of the finest Dutch Edam?

Le Guen’s introduction to the fabled marbled staircase was heralded by a cascade of accolades, unrestrained positivity and hysterical enthusiasm while rampant and seemingly uncontrollable levels of exhilaration threatened to register on the Reichter Scale.

And that was just the reaction from the newspapers.

Who could stop the Rangers juggernaut in the new season?

Alas, as I have pointed out in this column in the past, not all fairy tales have happy endings.

The manufactured bullishness from the masses nosedived towards the earth’s core amid an unforeseen – and, I suspect, unwelcome – sequence of abysmal performances and dismal results.

A GORDON FOR ME…elated Celtic boss Strachan celebrates another triumph.

By the time Wee Gordon and Co came calling on December 17 that same year, Le Guen had suffered several setbacks. including a league loss at Ibrox to Inverness Caley Thistle and expulsion from the League Cup, another defeat at home, this time from St Johnstone.

Their blushes were temporarily spared in the derby when an equaliser two minutes from time by Brahim Hemdani nullified a stunning first-half volley from Thomas Gravesen, but the cheers from the home fans had a distinct hollow ring.

And no wonder. Le Guen and his side, much vaunted before a ball had been kicked in anger, were SIXTEEN points adrift of Celtic at that stage.

With only half the season played, the title race was already over.

Less than three weeks later, Le Guen was Le Gone as he headed back to Paris and Walter Smith was once again dusting down the brown brogues after being previously dismissed to make way for Advocaat.

Gordon Strachan and his triumphant entourage sealed the club’s 41st crown and added the Scottish Cup for good measure.

A lot of so-called ‘experts’ can talk the talk, but haven’t quite mastered how to walk the walk.

THE END IS NIGH…Philippe Clement can’t bear to look as the Ibrox side topple out of the Scottish Cup against Queen’s Park in Govan.

They may well expose that Achilles’ Heel once again before the Premiership programme kicks off at Tannadice tomorrow night when Dundee United host a Govan club that last won a trophy – the League Cup – in December 2023 after Philippe Clement had just taken over.

Celtic have lifted six honours – including three titles – over the same period, but, after the Ibrox outfit’s Hampden success over Aberdeen, great things were predicted and there was even preposterous talk of claiming a quadruple, a domestic clean sweep plus the Europa League.

In February 25 2025, the po-faced Belgian was ejected a week or so after losing a Scottish Cup-tie at home to struggling second-tier Queen’s Park. They were also 13 Premiership points behind Celtic at the time.

Safe in the knowledge of there being no chance of an intervention from Real Madrid, the Ibrox hierarchy appointed Barry Ferguson as interim gaffer.

The former captain kept the seat warm for Russell Martin who arrived in June 2025 and was last seen running for cover 123 days after his appointment following a 1-1 draw at Falkirk with the club eighth in the league.

GOOD LUCK IN YOUR NEXT JOB…derby rivals Danny Rohl and Martiin O’Neill have a quick exchange of views before Celtic knock the hosts out of the Scottish Cup at Ibrox last season.

Danny Rohl, who parted company with Sheffield Wednesday by “mutual consent” in July 2025, was targeted to bring Teutonic efficiency to the post and duly pitched up in Glasgow three months later.

But, before you could say ‘schnell’, he had packed his bags and vamoosed to Austria while the final whistle on his failure, outwitted by his 74-year-old opponent, was still echoing around the city.

However, bon homie in that part of the universe has once again been restored and the good vibes are soaring towards the stratosphere.

Wee Derek is back in town and everything is going to be peachy and rosy. As ever, much is expected of the latest possessor of the brown brogues.

Once again, good people, it’s that time of year when irrational and delusional prophecies are fired out with reckless abandonment.

The lessons of two decades ago are resolutely ignored.

Cue an outbreak of delirium.