Trophies, Twenty Million and Terrible Transfer Talk - Celtic Da Weekly

Readers of a nervous disposition should look away now

Hello, good evening and welcome to the Celtic Da Weekly. It’s officially the close season and that means only one thing - I’m breaking patterns and getting so good at pilates.

Yes, the season fizzled out on Saturday with all the drama of a damp firework—and, sadly, without a single Simple Minds tune belting out at Hampden, so I couldn’t even lean into that tired “Not with a bang but a Jimkerr” gag.

Yeah, it’s going to be one of those columns this week I’m afraid.

Honestly, though, it’s bonkers how Maeda fluffing that last-minute sitter turns this into some apocalyptic “shit show” where the usual suspects demand Rodgers be chased out of town by a small child threateningly brandishing a jobby on a stick. Newsflash: we went toe-to-toe with Bayern Munich, compiled a goal difference that would make Guardiola weep, and only lost the Treble because Aberdeen’s keeper pulled off a save so frustrating you’d think he’d been paid in sheep dip.