Trending
Celtic News Now
Celtic Quick News on News Now
Celtic Quick News
You are at:»»Pay £4m or wait 171 days for McGinn pre-contract

Pay £4m or wait 171 days for McGinn pre-contract

1057
By on CQN BLOG & Comments

John McGinn is worth the £4m Hibs want for him.  If he was under contract at Celtic, we would not sell him for anything less.  But his sale price will be determined by the number of potential buyers in the market and where the player wants to move to, not his inherent utility as a football player.  These factors set his price.

I would not be surprised if Peter Lawwell had the the words “171 days” marked on a whiteboard in his office.  That’s how long he will need to wait to put a pre-contract in front of McGinn.  Having signed such a deal, the player’s value would be no more than £250k, a drop of £3.75m over the period, reducing at just shy of £22k a day.

You know Peter, it’s not going to happen.  He’ll wait.  John will wait too, and the people at Hibs will continue to murmur about Rod Petrie.  I like signing players on pre-contracts.  In the Celtic universe, it makes the world spin a little faster.

Stick at it, John.  Give Hibs your best between now and January.

I’m reluctant to touch the Kieran Tierney “story”.  By all reports, Celtic’s very firm reaction has convinced Everton to look elsewhere, but I’ll be pleased when the English Premier League transfer window closes in four weeks.  Killing a transfer is an art, not a science.

Click Here for Comments >
Share.

About Author

1,057 Comments
  1. Pages:
  3. 1
  4. ...
  5. 5
  6. 6
  7. 7
  8. 8
  9. 9
  10. 10
  11. 11
  12. ...
  13. 28

  1. petec on

    Double treble is good. Forget about the treble treble.

     

     

    Get goals.

     

     

    Who knows what will happen when you go All out for Goals.

     

     

    I’m hoping for 4 or 5 goals Domestic in the 1st Half, Every game. Chill oot efter that.

     

     

    Nitpicking and I am Sorry for doing so.

  3. Shuggiebhoy67 on

    Best sign of the Trump protest,seen on Channel 4 News,

     

     

    Respect existence, Expect resistance.

     

    HH

     

    Back to Paradise tomorrow ;0))

  7. Matt Stewart on

    Some day on the sporting scene eh? Whit? You didn’t notice? Well here’s my wee stagger around the u-turns, potholes, sights and sounds through the double glazed frosted glass of what passes for my mind.

     

     

    It had been simmering most of the day. The pundits’ and commentators’ oxters were sodden as they fought for their place by the air conditioning unit while outside the masses queued eager to claim an advantageous vantage point as near to the dividing net as possible, and even on Murray Mound the pieces’n’chips became a focal point of the chatter and twitter as a battle loomed between the skelly salt’n’sauce wannabees and the more mature and tasteful salt’n’vinegar brigade.

     

     

    But of one thing there was no doubt; as Sherlock would say “The game was afoot’ and as my mate would always respond while we were watching Cumberbatch and Freeman on the telly…. “and I don’t mean twelve inches!”

     

     

    And this game? The game that wasn’t 12 inches? Well let’s be honest it had loomed in the consciousness for a wee while now and the expectation, nay the tattooed certainty was that ‘it would have everything and more’! Rumours concocted had flown like the Valkyries, thoughts had been analysed, distilled and fermented like the finest of wines, gins and Tennents lagers, odds weighed and gauged, and only then was ‘the truth’ whispered, divulged and passed on with the wink of a nose or tap of an eye.

     

     

    This was indeed it. The game, the big one, the match. And only two names were on the tongues of those with a grasp on the drama about to unfold.

     

     

    A speedy recce of the scene and a whiff of the sweat dimpled clotted cream confirmed that all was not as it seemed. At first it was one or two and then a whispered message and then three or four and finally the whole crowd in a sweeping Mexican wave of ever-more frequent anxious glances at the Rolex and Tag Heuer smartest of SMART watches designed for the smartest of the smart set.

     

     

    All they wanted was the promise, the desire, the reward that fate and destiny held in its cupped hands. They could sense that at any moment there it would be – spread before them like an emotional wealth of Croesus.

     

     

    But first they had to get this bliddy game of tennis out of the way!

     

     

    Admittedly the semi-final had been enthralling, riveting at times. But with the outcome still in the balance the TV audience and those close enough to hear the racing of the protagonists’ hearts should have all been on the edge of their seats, and not just because the sweat infused clotted cream was starting to bubble its inevitable payback.

     

     

    But to be honest they were getting bored, bored, bored, bored, with a game and a sport generally that as one aficionado pointed out…“Tennis…my God it was only invented because there was a competition to see what we could do with a sudden oversupply of cat-gut”!

     

     

    And so attentions drifted among the “Saaf Laandan” Wimbers set with their ‘look at me I’ve got a centre court seat and have therefore made it’. And believe me there is little more disturbing than a ‘Saaf Laandener’ drifting…..unless its in canoe somewhere uncivilised and dangerous, like “Noarff Laandan”.

     

     

    Anyway the moment of peak tennis had passed and to a man, to a woman and to a Cliff Richard their minds, souls and dreams had started a hike to where they really wanted to be, 400 miles up the Motorways, over the Rio Tweed and into the land of song, poetry, laughter and lightness of soul…Ayrshire.

     

     

    Everyone, Ball Boys, Girl Boys (sorry I mean Ball Girls although Cliff Richard as mentioned may fall into the category), line judges, Martina Navratilova, Boris Becker, Sue Barker, John McEnroe “your team took one helluva thrashing”…sorry that’s another wee mental detour I just took……suddenly realised that this ‘feckin gemme’ was going on just too long and had to end….NOW!.

     

     

    The two names that really mattered after all weren’t Isner and Anderson. No! Like a rumble of approaching menace all you could hear around Centre Court was… “Stubbs and Clarke, Clarke and Stubbs, Stubbs and Clarke, Clarke and Stubbs……”. All minds’ eyes turned to Scotland’s west coast and the invading Paisley-ites. All roads led to one simple quest, The Scottish League Cup; and now the appetites that had been whetted, the saliva that had been slabbered and the lips that had been smacked since the draw had been made had seen the sun rising on their day.

     

     

    No day in Domestic Scottish football’s living memory could possibly have been any bigger. No gladiatorial collision resounded louder and no glory beckoned so temptingly than 7.45pm Rugby Park on Friday 13th July…. A black day in Wimbledon’s almanac I can tell you.

     

     

    And if you had any sporting genes in your DNA ….or was it sporting DNA in your genes?….THIS WAS THE DAY! And let’s be honest just who the feck were Isner and Anderson anyway.

     

     

    And so tellies across the known sportosphere buzzed, crackled as the Wimbledon broadcast and WiFi was kidnapped. Big Screens and phones were hacked and replaced by BT Sport. The umpire (that’s a tennis Ref…albeit wearing a suit from Saville Row) in a desperate attempt to restore order, informed the players that they had to get back on the pitch/wicket or whatever the thing was that they played on.

     

     

    The players looked at each other and then at their betting slips, nodded with a knowing tip of the head and agreed that that 24 all was enough for a stupid game, so they would finish it quickly and anyway everyone knew that the game would always occupy a special place in their memories. How they would enjoy telling their grandchildren about it; especially the one who by all accounts celebrated two birthdays and the other who conceived and gave birth during that fifth set.

     

     

    Yes you can keep yer World Cup, EPL, La Liga, Serie A, Bundesliga, Wimbledon, test matches, rugby, AFL, EDL, MFI, BBQ because Fitba- Scottish Style – is back and like a further instalment in the Die Hard franchise and all I could think was

     

     

    “YIPEE_KI_YAY MOTHER…….!” Oops but, I just love it!

     

     

    (As for the tennis, I gather that the big auld geezer lost to the wee young fella…..still they got finished in time to see the cup game after all.)

     

     

    AS for the Killie v St Mirren game, I really enjoyed it. I may even expand on that tomorrow at some time, or there again I may scribble you a wee tale about, Celtic, me and the Dylan Thomas poem whose opening verse is…

     

     

    Do not go gentle into that good night,

     

    Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

     

    Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

     

     

    Hail Hail

     

     

    Matt

  8. petec on

    Whatever you do – don’t dis Israel for petec sake.

     

     

    “Beware the Jews who are not …………..

     

     

    I know nothing.

  11. weebawbabitty on

    Just a thought , but has anyone thought to ask what’s happened to the poster SOAL ! No one seems to ask why he is absent from blog ??

  12. sipsini on

    DELANEYS DUNKY on 13TH JULY 2018 9:59 PM

     

    BT

     

    Had the displeasure of being in the company of a Blantur female hun last week. The ugly hun knows you and yer da. Nae luck.

     

    YNWA

     

    ——————–

     

    What did i teach you in Munich DD.

     

    Don’t nip a burd when your half sozzled, you will always wake up and regret it.:))

  14. petec on

    weebawbabitty on 14th July 2018 12:11 am

     

     

    Just a thought , but has anyone thought to ask what’s happened to the poster SOAL ! No one seems to ask why he is absent from blog ??

     

     

     

    ………………………………………..

     

     

    I’m pretty sure he is Bang on – Still alive. Not totally sure though.

     

     

    I’ve always thought what happened to Kojo.

     

     

    The hate to him when he is gone…. Not Ice Ice Baby.

  15. rhetorical on

    Two birds one stone.

     

     

    Proposed amendment to the Glesca City Cooncil Code of Conduct for Public Parades.

     

     

    Sub paragraph 16.92

     

     

    All parades held under the aegis (good cooncil word that) of the esteemed Orange Order (all respect) must be held only on synthetic football pitches. No such pitches may be laid within 1967 metres of any place of religious worship. For the facilitation of such parades and to demonstrate good will to our friends in the OO, special provisions will be made to include Kilmarnock and Hamilton within the ambit of GCC bye laws for this specific provision only.

  20. weebawbabitty on

    PETEC , my friend, I know he is still alive as my best friend ( wife) was speaking to him midweek, just kinda wondering why nobody was asking ab

  21. petec on

    Delighted the Big Court over the Big Pond is now more for the Biblical Family.

     

     

    CELTIC will hopefully follow suit a bit more informed.

     

     

    Trump up the Jam…

     

     

    Love.CSC

  22. weebawbabitty on

    Sorry, about that ghuys, Was wondering why nobody was asking why he wasn’t posting ?

  25. petec on

    weebawbabitty on 14th July 2018 12:50 am

     

     

    Good night PETEC take care buddy.

     

     

    ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

     

     

    GodBlessyeGoodDude

  31. petec on

    The Newco dinnae know if they are coming or Going?

     

     

    Neil is ready to destroy any Stevie G Revolution, I wonder why? :))

     

     

    A Firm 2nd place for Hibs, I’d defo guess @.

     

     

    Aiberdeen have peaked.

     

     

    Just my opinions.

  35. petec on

    Expelled – No Intelligence Allowed is well worth a watch.

     

     

    Powerful intro at least.

     

     

    My mind is made up so not fussed whatever when it gets not a nice debate.

  37. Celtarella on

    Why do we give a rats orifice about McGinn?

     

    is it because we see Hibs as a threat next season for the title and hence want to weaken our main opponents? or do we think McGinn can take on the Atletico Madrid’s of this world?

  38. Celtarella on

    Its coming home

     

    Its coming home

     

    Its coming home

     

    Naw its no

     

    Its coming fourth.

  40. the_huddle on

    Celtarella on 14th July 2018 1:39 am

     

     

    Why do we give a rats orifice about McGinn?

     

    is it because we see Hibs as a threat next season for the title and hence want to weaken our main opponents? or do we think McGinn can take on the Atletico Madrid’s of this world?

     

    ————–

     

    Why can’t it be both?? ;O)

  41. petec on

    The EU is Dark.

     

     

    I am hoping for Brexit, where the EU nose is bloodied.

     

     

    The EU is a gravy train that is a lot bigger than the horrors of Westminister/Holyrood.

     

     

    No real options to CHANGE things.

     

     

    The Hour is Late.

  42. Celtarella on

    Donald couldnt care less about Russian meddling in his election.

     

    Donald couldnt care less about the American judiciary, American government, due process, abortion, gerry-mandering, the people he has disposed of as garbage (including most of his compatriots), the CIA, FBI, NATO or any other stuff he considers beneath him such as the UK and Scotland.

     

    What Donald is really scared of is that Mueller proves that Trump and his businesses have been laundering Russian crime syndicate money for 30 years.

  1. Pages:
  3. 1
  4. ...
  5. 5
  6. 6
  7. 7
  8. 8
  9. 9
  10. 10
  11. 11
  12. ...
  13. 28