James Forrest
The Emperor of Ice Cream
The Ibrox support were greeting again this week. Apparently, the latest injustice inflicted upon them was the failure to award their women’s team a late penalty in the Scottish Cup final against Celtic Women. The outrage was immediate.
The conspiracy theories were dusted down.
The usual suspects fired up social media. The cries of victimhood echoed around the place like a broken record nobody outside their own support was listening to.
Do you know what happened? Nothing.
Nobody cared. The mainstream media largely ignored it. The public ignored it. Most football supporters ignored it. Their wee pity party came and went without causing much of a ripple.
Now, some will claim that was because the women’s game does not receive enough attention. There is certainly an argument to be made there. Women’s football still fights for coverage and recognition that comes naturally to the men’s game.
But let’s be honest here. The real reason this particular complaint did not land was because it looked like more moaning for the sake of moaning. A desperate attempt to shift the conversation away from the fact they got beaten.
Not just beaten. Beaten by ten players. Ten.
Not eleven. Ten.
If there really was some grand conspiracy against them, it must be one of the most incompetent conspiracies in football history, because somehow, they still managed to lose against a side playing with a numerical disadvantage.
Funny how that part keeps getting forgotten.
But while I was laughing at the latest outbreak of Ibrox grievance culture, something else struck me. Something that genuinely bothers me. Because while their support was busy greeting, Celtic Women had just achieved something magnificent.
They won the Scottish Cup. They beat the teams above them in the league. They showed courage, resilience and quality. They brought silverware back to Celtic.
And yet, where was the noise? Where was the celebration? Where was the attention? Where was the pride?
I can see the answer myself every time I publish an article about Celtic FC Women. The difference in engagement is impossible to miss. The views are lower. The discussion is quieter. The interest fades quicker.
The men’s team dominates every conversation, every debate, every argument and every headline. The women’s team too often feels like an afterthought.
That saddens me. Because Celtic is Celtic.
Not partly Celtic. Not selectively Celtic. Not Celtic only when it suits us.
Celtic. One club. One badge. One history. One family.
Before anyone starts sharpening their knives beside their keyboards, I understand why the men’s team attracts the biggest attention. The men’s side competes in the Champions League. The men’s side generates enormous revenue. The men’s side sits at the centre of Scottish football’s media circus.
I get it. Of course I do.
But should that mean the achievements of Celtic Women disappear like ghosts into the mist? Should a Scottish Cup victory be celebrated for a few hours before vanishing into thin air? Should players who wear the same badge, represent the same club and fight for the same supporters be treated as somehow less important?
I do not think so. This is where my Ginger Witch half starts whispering in my ear.
Because clubs are more than league tables. More than transfer rumours. More than managerial speculation. More than endless discussions about formations and recruitment. A football club is a community. A living thing. A shared identity.
When one part of it succeeds, we should all feel pride. When one part of it lifts a trophy, we should all celebrate.
That does not mean pretending men’s football and women’s football are identical products. They are not. It does not mean forcing people to watch matches they do not want to watch.
But it does mean recognising achievement when it happens. It does mean respecting players who pull on the Hoops and bring honour to our club. It does mean understanding that silverware won by Celtic is silverware won by Celtic. Full stop.
Sometimes I wonder if we have become too obsessed with the men’s first team. Too focused on the next transfer. Too consumed by the latest media nonsense. Too distracted by every manufactured controversy.
The women’s team delivered something tangible. Something real.
A trophy. Success. Glory.
And yet it feels as though many supporters barely noticed.
That should concern us.
Because if we only care about one section of the club, are we really embracing what Celtic is supposed to represent?
The women who won that Scottish Cup wore the same famous crest that legends have worn for generations. They carried the same expectations. They represented the same institution.
They deserve more than a polite round of applause before everyone moves on. They deserve recognition. Respect. Support.
So let me ask my fellow Celtic supporters a simple question.
Do you care about Celtic? Not just the men’s team. Not just the Champions League nights. Not just the transfer windows. Not just the title races. Celtic.
The whole club. Because if the answer is yes, then surely the victories of our women’s team should matter too. Surely their triumphs should be celebrated. Surely their achievements should be shared. Surely their success should make us proud.
The Scottish Cup now sits in Celtic’s trophy cabinet because of those players. That is a fact. The badge they carried is our badge. The club they represented is our club.
And while others spend their days searching for conspiracies and excuses, perhaps we should spend a little more time celebrating the people who actually brought glory home.
Because glory is glory. A trophy is a trophy.
And that is always worth celebrating … especially when it reduces the club at Ibrox to another bout of pathetic squealing.
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The post The Celtic Women sparked another round of Ibrox moaning. This time no-one cared. appeared first on The Celtic Blog.
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The conspiracy theories were dusted down.
The usual suspects fired up social media. The cries of victimhood echoed around the place like a broken record nobody outside their own support was listening to.
Do you know what happened? Nothing.
Nobody cared. The mainstream media largely ignored it. The public ignored it. Most football supporters ignored it. Their wee pity party came and went without causing much of a ripple.
Now, some will claim that was because the women’s game does not receive enough attention. There is certainly an argument to be made there. Women’s football still fights for coverage and recognition that comes naturally to the men’s game.
But let’s be honest here. The real reason this particular complaint did not land was because it looked like more moaning for the sake of moaning. A desperate attempt to shift the conversation away from the fact they got beaten.
Not just beaten. Beaten by ten players. Ten.
Not eleven. Ten.
If there really was some grand conspiracy against them, it must be one of the most incompetent conspiracies in football history, because somehow, they still managed to lose against a side playing with a numerical disadvantage.
Funny how that part keeps getting forgotten.
But while I was laughing at the latest outbreak of Ibrox grievance culture, something else struck me. Something that genuinely bothers me. Because while their support was busy greeting, Celtic Women had just achieved something magnificent.
They won the Scottish Cup. They beat the teams above them in the league. They showed courage, resilience and quality. They brought silverware back to Celtic.
And yet, where was the noise? Where was the celebration? Where was the attention? Where was the pride?
I can see the answer myself every time I publish an article about Celtic FC Women. The difference in engagement is impossible to miss. The views are lower. The discussion is quieter. The interest fades quicker.
The men’s team dominates every conversation, every debate, every argument and every headline. The women’s team too often feels like an afterthought.
That saddens me. Because Celtic is Celtic.
Not partly Celtic. Not selectively Celtic. Not Celtic only when it suits us.
Celtic. One club. One badge. One history. One family.
Before anyone starts sharpening their knives beside their keyboards, I understand why the men’s team attracts the biggest attention. The men’s side competes in the Champions League. The men’s side generates enormous revenue. The men’s side sits at the centre of Scottish football’s media circus.
I get it. Of course I do.
But should that mean the achievements of Celtic Women disappear like ghosts into the mist? Should a Scottish Cup victory be celebrated for a few hours before vanishing into thin air? Should players who wear the same badge, represent the same club and fight for the same supporters be treated as somehow less important?
I do not think so. This is where my Ginger Witch half starts whispering in my ear.
Because clubs are more than league tables. More than transfer rumours. More than managerial speculation. More than endless discussions about formations and recruitment. A football club is a community. A living thing. A shared identity.
When one part of it succeeds, we should all feel pride. When one part of it lifts a trophy, we should all celebrate.
That does not mean pretending men’s football and women’s football are identical products. They are not. It does not mean forcing people to watch matches they do not want to watch.
But it does mean recognising achievement when it happens. It does mean respecting players who pull on the Hoops and bring honour to our club. It does mean understanding that silverware won by Celtic is silverware won by Celtic. Full stop.
Sometimes I wonder if we have become too obsessed with the men’s first team. Too focused on the next transfer. Too consumed by the latest media nonsense. Too distracted by every manufactured controversy.
The women’s team delivered something tangible. Something real.
A trophy. Success. Glory.
And yet it feels as though many supporters barely noticed.
That should concern us.
Because if we only care about one section of the club, are we really embracing what Celtic is supposed to represent?
The women who won that Scottish Cup wore the same famous crest that legends have worn for generations. They carried the same expectations. They represented the same institution.
They deserve more than a polite round of applause before everyone moves on. They deserve recognition. Respect. Support.
So let me ask my fellow Celtic supporters a simple question.
Do you care about Celtic? Not just the men’s team. Not just the Champions League nights. Not just the transfer windows. Not just the title races. Celtic.
The whole club. Because if the answer is yes, then surely the victories of our women’s team should matter too. Surely their triumphs should be celebrated. Surely their achievements should be shared. Surely their success should make us proud.
The Scottish Cup now sits in Celtic’s trophy cabinet because of those players. That is a fact. The badge they carried is our badge. The club they represented is our club.
And while others spend their days searching for conspiracies and excuses, perhaps we should spend a little more time celebrating the people who actually brought glory home.
Because glory is glory. A trophy is a trophy.
And that is always worth celebrating … especially when it reduces the club at Ibrox to another bout of pathetic squealing.
Choose The CelticBlog as a ‘Preferred Source’ on Google News for quick access to the news you value.
The post The Celtic Women sparked another round of Ibrox moaning. This time no-one cared. appeared first on The Celtic Blog.
Continue reading...
