Would the last one out turn off the disco lights?
They may very well have been bought for nights precisely like these but when the smoke cleared and the floor emptied, after this opening night defeat no one felt very much like dancing. They were too exhausted, too bitterly disappointed.
And probably too full of regret after missing the chances that might have turned this big return to the Champions Leagu e into another of those fairytales from the club’s big book of folklore. Yes, this was the evening which brought Celtic back on to Europe’s greatest stage. And true, for a while Ange Postecoglou ’s players were all fancy footwork and darting movement – just as we have come to expect. But in the space of four second- half minutes they had their legs whipped from underneath them as one of the great heavyweights of the world chose to flex their muscles rather than be dazzled by the show for a moment longer. Liel Abada didn’t recover from blowing the first big opportunity of the night. He was replaced at half-time by Daizen Maeda who botched an even better one.
In between times, skipper Callum McGregor almost brought the house down with a shot that crashed back off the woodwork as Celtic threatened to do something spectacular. But a quickfire double ruined it all with Vinicius Jr and Luka Modric bursting Celtic’s bubble, deflating the party atmosphere and defusing a tie that, at times, could have exploded in their faces.
When Eden Hazard popped home a third with 77 minutes on the clock, it all began to feel like a bit of a bruising experience for Scotland’s champions. A night that could have been magical ended up rather miserable. A sobering reminder of how many rabbits Postecoglou still has to pull from his hat to make Celtic as competitive as he’d like among the elite.
For Postecoglou’s first trick, he had to conjure up replacements for Kyogo Furuhashi and Carl Starfelt without anyone noticing two regular starters had vanished. It didn’t require all that much sleight of hand. In came two obvious alternatives in Giorgos Giakoumakis and Moritz Jenz.
But with the rest of Saturday’s starting line-up in place, they were given their orders to get back out there and put on a magic show all over again – while trying their best not to be intimidated by the A-listers. Which, of course, would be quite a trick in itself. Everywhere they looked there was a footballing colossus. And yet Celtic opened up as if they had not stopped since the weekend.
They came racing out of the traps with the excellent Giakoumakis chasing down Thibaut Courtois inside the opening 10 seconds, spooking the Belgian keeper into a hurried clearance to the sideline. A quick throw later and Abada let fly with the first shot
of the night, which was deflected behind. Celtic won a second corner after just 74 seconds.
This was everything Postecoglou could have hoped for. But there was a sharp intake of breath moments later when Modric conjured a flick over his own shoulder, releasing Federico Valverde down the right.
Cameron Carter-Vickers was well placed to mop up the Uruguayan’s cross and prevent it from reaching Karim Benzema. But the slickness and craft of this rapid raid appeared to knock some of the self-belief and swagger from Celtic’s players. For the next 10 minutes they found themselves camped in their own territory, prodded and probed at by these visitors from another planet.
But gradually they found that second wind and when Jota’s superb switch of play sent Abada in behind for another sight at Courtois’ goal, the whole place was on its feet again.
That Abada choked his shot straight at the big keeper was a blow but not really the point. Celtic had re-engaged in the contest. And typically they would not stop to take another breath for the rest of the half. Had McGregor’s shot not rattled back off the woodwork in 20 minutes but ricocheted into the back of the net instead, it would have blown the roof off.
The skipper’s crisp left-foot pinger from the edge of the box deserved better than it got, having reduced the rooted Courtois to the role of an onlooker. But Real survived and with the influence of Modric and Toni Kroos growing, they ended the 45 minutes back on the front foot.
It required a superb one-on-one stop from Joe Hart to snuff out Vinicius Jr just before the break. Hart’s save was celebrated like a goal.
But the second half had no sooner begun than Maeda botched a shot from five yards when all that was required was a deft touch to Josip Juranovic’s fizzing cross. At that moment Postecoglou probably began to fear the worst. Such generosity tends to be taken full advantage of at this level. And Madrid have won this thing 14 times by taking more liberties than most.
