Lawwell. Desmond. Nicholson. Celtic’s masters of managed decline.

James Forrest

The Emperor of Ice Cream
In January 2024, I published a column in which I argued that Celtic looked more disjointed than at any time in a decade. That piece was a warning shot, fired across the bow of a club that was already listing badly, even in a season where silverware would ultimately mask deeper structural decay. I said then that the incoherence at the heart of the operation—from recruitment to leadership—was more…

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