Sometimes this game leaves you wondering what it’s all about.
Take St Mirren Park on Sunday, where the chill in the air made it feel more like November than the end of August.
But the ill wind blew in more than just cold. It introduced the usual band of IRA loving sweethearts who wouldn’t know semtex from sweetex.
And that’s the rub. After Celtic went two nil up from a sclaff by Hooper which somehow ended up in the net they were in full voice, a hateful choir conducted by their snarling, snapping manager on the touchline.
Instead of increasing their lead though the away side retreated into their bigoted shells and invited St Mirren to attack them.
And boy did they attack. A black and white maelstrom of non-sectarianism powered forward and only poor refereeing, lucky defending and the shameful chanting from the away hordes prevented Saints from scoring six.
Referee Willie Collum denied the home side three penalties whilst allowing two perfectly good Celtic goals. At one point I’m sure I saw hip lip synch with the away support, which is all well and good if he’s at Ibrox.
Saints will take heart from this defeat and knowing they have the decent Lennon as manager, a man who knows how to wear a suit and tie.
As for Celtic, they saluted their fans at the end and surely knew this would be their last win of the season, a season which promises a treble for Ally McCoist.
But I’m sure they’ll console themselves with songs of diddly-dee hatred.
And a potato.
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