By AIDAN CONNOR
In the fifth edition of our regular series, Aidan Connor analyses Celtic’s performances and results for the month of December. The eight matches included six matches in the Scottish Premiership, the League Cup Final and one home match in the Europa League campaign.
Game One: Celtic 1-0 Dundee: Scottish Premiership
O’Neill bid farewell at the start of December and Maeda’s header helped our bhoys defeat Dundee 1-0 at Parkhead. The score only revealed a portion of the story through the result. We were back at the top of the Premiership after Hearts dropped points elsewhere, and the
team was buzzing with confidence and belief going into three crucial games – the ideal present for Wilfried Nancy taking over, or so we thought at the time. You could tell the boys wanted to properly honour O’Neill from the first whistle. We got off to a quick start, and the goal demonstrated exactly what has come back under O’Neill – tempo, directness, and decisiveness. Saracchi high and wide almost like a winger, his quick pass to Hatate, Yang’s underlapping run for the first goal said it all. The game never became comfortable, even with the ideal beginning. Dundee were sniffing around after we failed to put the second away, and they almost made us pay just before halftime. Simon Murray rattled the bar after Scales’ short header back exposed us. Scales was frequently left one-on-one by Dundee’s over-the-top balls, which highlighted how much we miss Carter-Vickers.
The same narrative was told in the second half. Although we dominated for the majority, we weren’t clinical in ending the game through another goal. McCowan on the right demonstrated how O’Neill’s instructions could lead to positive play with minor tactical adjustments. The game felt tense for a while, but Dundee never gave up, our defence held strong, and the final whistle was a huge relief. Considering the chaos when O’Neill arrived, seven victories in eight games, flawless domestic form, and a team with faith once more are not insignificant accomplishments. Fair play, Dundee didn’t make it simple. Even though the last ball let them down, they fought, created opportunities, and displayed bravery. The 1-0 score was never the point of this. Everything surrounding it was important, including the handover, the context, and the feeling that our boys were once again playing with purpose. O’Neill departed with his reputation not only unharmed but enhanced. He gave Nancy a team that was buzzing rather than shattered, stabilised a club that was in flux, and restored faith.
O’Neill’s strategies were simple yet effective. The 4-3-3 shape remained the same, but build-up was quicker and vertical, transitions were straightforward, and wide areas were exploited. Second balls were contested, balls were whipped in, and full-backs pushed high, it felt like the team wanted to fight for O’Neill. It wasn’t a classic performance, but it was fitting for an interim period that stabilised a team in chaos. He left Nancy a platform instead of a crisis, narrowed the gap to Hearts, and restored faith. To thunderous applause, O’Neill took a lap of honour after leading the team to victory. For a brief moment, the strained bond between the club and its supporters was mended as players followed and the stands sang his name for a final time… or so we thought.
Game Two: Celtic 1-2 Hearts: Scottish Premiership
When Wilfried Nancy was appointed, I was intrigued but also a little wary. After Martin O’Neill had steadied the ship, we needed more than just stability, we needed vision, ambition, and someone who could take us forward without losing the momentum of O’Neill. Nancy’s reputation as 2024 MLS Coach of the Year, with that dynamic, forward-thinking style and his 3-4-2-1 formation, immediately grabbed my attention along with that of many other supporters. My main concern with Nancy at the time was that I am all for project players but not as keen on project managers, and Nancy’s CV was not impressive. Nancy’s first game against Hearts was a disaster.
We started with energy and aggression, pressing high, moving the ball forward urgently. Tounekti and Yang as wing-backs, Tierney as a wide attacking centre-back, McGregor dropping into a centre-back role and spraying long balls in transition, it looked promising. But as the game went on, sharpness drained. What followed was a lesson in how quickly promise can vanish when control is lost. The performance wasn’t shaped by bad luck but by hesitation, confusion, and a Hearts side that knew exactly who they were. We didn’t know where to stand let alone who we were. The first goal had nothing to do with formation, t had to do with the players. Claudio Braga finished calmly, robbing Callum McGregor in possession after a counter-attack, but the issue was how long Braga was left unmarked in the Hearts box. For 11 seconds no one acknowledged his presence, and when Braga robbed McGregor, seven Celtic players put their hands up but not one decided to make a challenge. That is schoolboy defending and not anything to do with Nancy’s tactics. The phrase ‘play to the whistle’ has never been more true.
Nancy’s decision to go to a back three was bold, even brave, but bravery without balance is fragile. Wing-backs pushed high, midfielders rotated aggressively, and the players were asked to think differently almost instantly. Execution faltered, mainly because there was too much change too quickly. Hearts pressed calmly, compacted when necessary, and sprung forward purposefully. Yang and Tounekti struggled as wing-backs, Trusty and Scales weren’t comfortable on the ball, and it looked like no one knew where they were supposed to be standing. Their second goal, McEntee’s header from a corner, was basic. Three Hearts players were free at the back post, Scales wasn’t marking anyone and Nygren lost his man. From there, it felt like the match slipped through our fingers. Early intensity drained, and control quietly shifted away. Our late rally, capped by Tierney’s added-time strike, lifted the scoreline but not the mood. By then, Hearts had proved the point that they could come to Parkhead, absorb pressure, survive early storms, and impose themselves physically and mentally. Nancy’s post-match talk of mentality and learning was truthful, but it underlined the scale of the task. This wasn’t just a defeat, it was a reality check. Celtic looked like a team in transition facing a team already fully formed. The crowd sensed it too with early excitement giving way to frustration.
Perhaps the most telling part of the afternoon wasn’t the formation or goals conceded, but how quickly our early intensity evaporated. Against Hearts, motivation drained away once the initial plan failed. Adaptability in real time is what elite teams impose, and we didn’t, we
looked like we gave up. This loss, coming right after O’Neill’s period of stabilisation, felt brutal. Momentum is fragile, and we had it. Hearts stole it from us. Social media amplified it immediately with the infamous tactics board moment of Nancy seated, magnets spread out, trying to find solutions while the game slipped away. The trolling online was sharp and
merciless with jokes, memes, comparisons to board games but beneath it all was real anxiety.
Timing made the image resonate. We weren’t chasing a lost cause and the match was still within reach but Hearts smelt vulnerability. They had proven they could absorb pressure, and now they could sense Celtic searching rather than asserting. Elite teams impose their will, and Hearts did exactly that, that’s why they are at the top of the table. They are a real force now, not a transient disruptor. They’ve beaten Rangers twice and Celtic home and away, performing consistently, with players fully aware of their roles. In contrast, we’re still debating ours. Hearts played maturely, attacked with intent, and defended well. We had flashes of brilliance, but no long-term dominance. Nancy’s philosophy of courage, expression and clarity was evident, but those qualities drained away as the game wore on. His post-match words were calm and reflective, but calmness isn’t always what a wounded supporter wants to see. In the end, this match was a cautionary tale. Learning curves aren’t offered silently at Parkhead. Decades of expectation magnify every action, choice, and pause. Nancy has inherited not just a team but a mindset shaped by European disappointment, boardroom mistrust, and recent stability. Hearts revealed the cracks.
Game Three: Celtic 0-3 Roma: Europa League
If the Hearts loss had cracked the surface, the Roma match tore it apart. Our second game under Wilfried Nancy under the lights at Parkhead turned into a moment of collective reckoning, far worse than just a European defeat. We were stunned, the stadium was in disbelief, and our new manager had to face the harsh reality of what happens when you try to implement a very particular style of play halfway through a season. Three goals were conceded in the first half, and the game was already over before the interval. All that was left was noise, rage, and the uneasy feeling that this precarious situation had become volatile. The tone was set in the first six minutes. Scales diverted a corner past Schmeichel and just like that, Roma didn’t have to accelerate, they only needed to watch. Evan Ferguson, a boyhood Celtic fan, ruthlessly punished us with two goals. Wide areas were open, midfield was under pressure, and our team looked disorganised, overpowered and terrified. It wasn’t just the score but the manner of the impending defeat. Roma weren’t sprinting full out, and some of their biggest names were on the bench, yet they tore through us with ease. Turnovers were constant, defensive cover almost non-existent, and their high press forced error after error. Schmeichel was exposed repeatedly. We failed to shift momentum even when given a chance. The halftime jeers weren’t reactionary, they were cumulative, the patience of the Parkhead support gone.
Nancy’s stillness on the touchline became the talk of the night. Arms folded, expression unreadable, he watched it all unfold. To some it was calm restraint, to others, paralysis. To us in the stands, it looked like detachment. When changes did come at the break, there was marginal improvement: we were slightly less open, a little more competitive, and briefly threatening. Schmeichel found Maeda deep, but Hatate’s poor touch allowed Ferguson another chance off the bar. Kelechi Iheanacho thought he had pulled one back, only for VAR to rule it out. This was a structural warning, not just a bad night. Nancy’s insistence on the
back three for a second consecutive crucial game put us at risk, especially in wide areas. In theory, stress-testing players might make sense but in practice, it was brutal. Roma recognised our weaknesses immediately and exploited them ruthlessly. Tounekti failing to track back left Tierney two versus one, and Tierney didn’t know who to mark, leading directly to the second goal. Scales should have been stronger to stop Ferguson’s third. Ideology cannot come before protection and systems are meant to shield players, not leave them exposed.
Context does matter. Nancy took over a club in mid-season turmoil, with expectations amplified by O’Neill’s recent stabilisation. But history doesn’t pause for context. Nancy became the first Celtic manager to lose his first two games, both at Parkhead, where the discontent is deafening. Green shoe debates, tactics board memes, obsession over optics are symptoms, not causes. When control seems to be slipping, we cling to every sign of it. Roma didn’t just win, they highlighted the gap between unity and chaos. They defended with organisation, passed with purpose, and pressed intelligently. Meanwhile, our boys looked like strangers to one another and it hurt to watch. Parkhead European nights are supposed to be hostile for guests, not for us. Engels missing a penalty made it worse – this is when you need your £11m record signing to step up, and he didn’t.
Yang and Tounekti as wing-backs couldn’t cover the spaces, Roma camped in our half, pressed hard, and we couldn’t escape. By the half-hour mark, the result felt inevitable and by halftime, it was decided. Even a fourth Roma goal (offside) highlighted the structural issues – our high line and 3-4-3 system left wingers too much space behind us. For this formation to work, we’d need specialised players. From where we stood in the stands, it wasn’t just a defeat, it was a clear message that we are still fragile, still learning, and far from the coherence O’Neill brought. Roma made that obvious, and every Celtic supporter felt it deep down. Parkhead had been shaken, and the scale of the challenge Nancy faced was never clearer.
Game Four: Celtic 1-3 St Mirren: League Cup Final
Off the back of two crucial games and two defeats, a cup final was next and, even after our horrendous form, we were still expected to come out on top. Instead, we were completely absent. From the moment Marcus Fraser rose unchallenged inside two minutes, it was clear we were playing against the moment rather than embracing it, hesitant, disjointed, and weighed down by uncertainty. Scales lost the ball, leading to St Mirren’s goal from a corner – another set piece conceded. Hatate needed to be stronger in the challenge, and Fraser scoring for St Mirren perfectly summed up the difference in desire that day. Reo Hatate’s equaliser gave a flicker of hope, and for a moment we thought maybe our muscle memory could pull us through. But it was just an illusion. Hatate’s finish for the equaliser was a good goal, but after that, St Mirren simply outgrew us. They played with conviction, togetherness, and belief, while we drifted, unable to summon any urgency or control. Jonah Ayunga’s goals were the result of a team with a purpose punishing a team with none.
The bigger picture hit hard. It wasn’t just Wilfried Nancy’s third straight loss, it was also the clearest sign that we were collapsing in real time. The players didn’t seem to know what was expected of them or how to win. Nancy looked isolated on the touchline, switching between cool detachment and visible frustration. Ralston, playing centre-back in a back three, and McGregor trying to push us up for an equaliser left Trusty exposed in a one-on-one, and Scales was running at half pace trying to get back. Then there was Tierney being brought off which felt like a completely baffling choice in a cup final when we needed quality and leadership on the pitch. Tierney having just scored the goal that took Scotland to the World Cup for the first time in 27 years, a month earlier was now taken off when we desperately need someone who can make a difference. It was a decision that left fans shaking their heads in disbelief. Fan sentiment quickly went from worry to rage. We weren’t just asking for tactical adjustments, we wanted accountability from every level at the club; players, manager, board, recruitment, and ownership. It became painfully clear that Nancy had been parachuted into an impossible situation, thrown into the most volatile week of the season with zero margin for error and no goodwill.
What happened at Hampden a moment where we collectively realised just how far we’ve regressed. The most striking thing wasn’t that St Mirren won, but how they completely took control of the game. For a brief spell in the first half, we played with energy and intent, moving the ball sharply and asking questions, but even then it felt like belief was thin. The second half became a study in contrast with one side organised, purposeful, and brave in its decisions and the other increasingly passive, unsure whether to persist or retreat. Stephen Robinson’s tactical shift of moving his forwards wider, targeting space either side of our centre-backs and nullifying McGregor’s influence, exposed a fragility we couldn’t fix on the pitch or from the touchline. Suddenly, a system that had worked in flashes turned into a trap, forcing players into roles they weren’t equipped for. Our back line stretched and narrowed without coherence, leaving Scales stuck between full-back and centre-half. The central theme of the afternoon was our inability to adjust, recognise danger, or react. Schmeichel was very poor for St Mirren’s second and made another cup final mistake – Donovan had a great strike at the end but was unlucky, with an excellent save from Shmal George, the St Mirren keeper. In the final six or seven minutes, I expected more fight from a Celtic team in a cup final, but we didn’t even try.
What made the result so hard to swallow wasn’t just the scoreline. It was the realisation that we aren’t struggling for form but searching for identity. As Hampden emptied, conversation shifted from patience to concern, from tactics to direction and from the manager alone to the structure that put him there. It felt like a line being crossed. St Mirren’s approach mirrored some of our own tactics, even if their execution came from a very different place. They lined up in their usual 3-5-2, pushing their defensive line high when possible to shorten the pitch and keep the game on our terms, rather than constantly pressuring us. They were ready to counter-press aggressively once possession was lost in our half, snapping into duels and preventing us from building from the back. Even though they’re not relentless high pressers, they stayed structurally sound while exploiting our hesitation, blending restraint with well-timed intensity.
St Mirren’s victory felt earned. Years of teamwork under Stephen Robinson had created a group that knew exactly who they were and what they had to do. That contrast cut the deepest. This final was a mirror showing two clubs heading in opposite directions. For St Mirren, it was renewal and validation. For us, it was another fracture point in a crisis we can’t ignore. We are a club stripped of togetherness, certainty, and patience, watching others lift silverware while asking increasingly uncomfortable questions about how we got here and who must answer for it.
Game Five: Dundee United 2-1 Celtic: Scottish Premiership
Dundee United’s victory over Celtic felt less like an upset and more like the continuation of a collapse that is accelerating by the game. Even with the context of upheaval off the pitch and pressure mounting on Wilfried Nancy, the manner of this defeat carried its own significance. Celtic began brightly with Maeda’s early goal a reminder of his form that made him player of the season last year. In this game, Maeda moved to the wide left with McCowan now as the centre attacking midfielder. Maeda on the left meant we had more pace and could stretch the Dundee United defence. His pace repeatedly unsettled United’s back line, and, for a brief window, it looked as though Celtic might finally steady themselves. Yet that early dominance came without ruthlessness. Johnny Kenny’s hesitation when clean through and further missed chances kept United alive, and that lingering failure to kill the game would once again prove fatal. Kenny had quality chances but was very poor in his finishing and overall play.
The longer the contest went on, the more familiar patterns resurfaced. While United gained confidence, Celtic kept pushing players forward, stretching the pitch and creating space. Max Watters’ missed opportunity prior to halftime served as a warning. Jim Goodwin made a significant change after halftime, bringing in Vicko Sevelj to tip the scales. The shift happened right away. Suddenly pinned back, Celtic appeared torn between attacking ambition and defensive vulnerability, unsure of whether to press or defend. The inability to finish Dundee United off after taking the lead through Maeda led to them eventually scoring the equaliser. Ralston, who isn’t a centre-back, was targeted at the back post which led to their goal and demonstrated Celtic’s lack of height and physicality. Dundee United’s second goal was a great finish. Perhaps Ralston didn’t think Sapsford was going to shoot but at the end of the day, we got ourselves into that situation from failing to clear a corner and in essence trying to finish the game off with a goal.
Even when Maeda had a late-game opportunity to head against the post from close range, it felt more like inevitability than bad luck. Celtic are really lacking an aerial finisher. Kenny could have scored a hat-trick, Yamada was poor, and Maeda hit the post. Nancy’s fourth straight loss made it full crisis mode. Nancy clearly didn’t have the players to play the way he wanted and his insistence on keeping a high-risk shape showed signs of a lack of experience. What persisted after full time was the increasing awareness that Celtic’s issues are no longer unique to one game or an off day. Even on a bad day, Celtic used to be in control of this league game. This time it turned into yet another chapter in a run that has depressed us all. This defeat felt like proof that Celtic are not just having trouble adjusting but also having trouble identifying themselves at all. Given Hearts’ increasing dominance at the top and the growing dissatisfaction surrounding the club’s leadership, this was the icing on the cake. Nancy’s explanation followed a familiar pattern about missed chances, fine margins and decisive moments. On the surface, the logic holds that Celtic should have been out of sight in the first half.
Nancy’s answer when questioned about giving up the system that momentarily stabilised Celtic under Martin O’Neill was equally instructive. His response was more philosophical than practical and he talked about creating something “for the future”. However, when short-term credibility is declining, football seldom gives room for long-term ideology. Celtic currently appear less like a team in transition and more like one that is torn between two identities, they are neither naturally dominant nor cohesive enough to deal with hardship. The reaction in the stands reflected that confusion. The chants for O’Neill were not simply nostalgic but a plea for him to come back and for this nightmare to be over. The banners aimed at the board, even after Peter Lawwell’s departure, confirmed that the anger now extends beyond the dugout. Nancy the most visible figure in a club wrestling with its own direction.
Game Six: Celtic 3-1 Aberdeen: Scottish Premiership
Our victory over Aberdeen did not arrive with the calm assurance that might normally accompany a first win after a losing run. It came wrapped in anxiety, disbelief, and ultimately release. That, in many ways, made it fitting for this moment in the club’s season. Wilfried Nancy’s first victory was a night that encapsulated the danger and promise of what he wanted to create, rather than a soft restoration of order. We played with a level of intensity and fluidity from the first few minutes that had been lacking during the previous four losses. For extended periods, it appeared as though we would eventually pull away, and Benjamin Nygren’s opening goal felt more like the result of persistent pressure and a system finally working.
We had an incredible amount of control over the game, creating opportunities at a rate that is uncommon even in one-sided Premiership games. The woodwork was repeatedly hit, shots came in from every direction, and Dimitar Mitov produced a series of saves. The xG figure told its own tale, but it hardly required statistics to validate what was clear to the eyes – we were dominating Aberdeen without dealing the final blow. It became increasingly apparent that anything other than a convincing victory at home would be unexplainable, especially after Dylan Lobban was sent off for Aberdeen shortly before halftime. However, Kenan Bilalovic’s composed equaliser for Aberdeen sent shockwaves through the crowd, and it looked like we were going to see a repeat, another evening in which dominance was meaningless, another phase in a downward spiral that had already besieged Nancy. What came next was important and Tierney’s goal felt symbolic because it came late and was delivered with the authority of a player who knows how important these kinds of moments are. This served as a reminder of why Tierney continues to play such a significant role under Nancy.
James Forrest’s goal in stoppage time sealed the deal. It was more than just a victory; it was the end of weeks of stress, annoyance, and uncertainty. Forrest scoring again, extended his remarkable run of top-flight seasons and added a sense of continuity on a night when our identity has often felt in flux. For Nancy on the touchline, the reaction said everything. Relief rather than triumph and validation rather than celebration. This result does not rewrite the broader narrative of our season, nor does it silence legitimate concerns about defensive structure, set-piece vulnerability, or wastefulness in front of goal, but it does offer something tangible that had been missing – proof that the ideas can translate into sustained dominance over ninety minutes. Unlike previous matches where promising spells faded, this performance carried coherence from start to finish. We were in control long before Aberdeen were reduced to ten men. The red card amplified the imbalance but it did not create it. The clearest takeaway is that Nancy’s system was beginning to surface in meaningful ways. The movement between lines, the willingness of defenders to step into midfield and attack space, and the relentless recycling of pressure all pointed toward a team growing into a shared understanding.
Where it faltered was in execution. Kenny’s missed chances became emblematic of a wider issue that numbers alone cannot solve. We can create volume, but without composure and quality in the final action, even the most dominant performances remain vulnerable to chaos. In that sense, the Aberdeen match felt less like an ending and more like a threshold. Although it did not put an end to the storm that surrounded Nancy, it made it possible for light to enter. Knowing they could impose themselves, the players departed the pitch with proof that his theories are not theoretical. Even though they weren’t entirely persuaded, we were at least reminded of what a win looks like and that there is a chance that this could work. This result does not rewrite the broader narrative of our season, nor does it silence legitimate concerns about defensive structure, set-piece vulnerability, or wastefulness in front of goal. We had an expected goals (xG) total of 4.53 from 31 shots against Aberdeen, 10 of which were on target. That kind of output would typically result in a convincing victory. We are among the most wasteful teams in front of goal this season.
Game Seven: Livingston 2-4 Celtic: Scottish Premiership
The match burst into life almost immediately, with chaos reigning inside the opening ten minutes as both sides exchanged goals in a frantic sequence that set the tone for a wild first half. Livingston struck first through Cristian Montano after just three minutes, only for Nygren to restore parity moments later with a close-range finish from Engels’ corner. Montano then punished us again in the eighth minute with a clinical strike, but we responded instantly once more, Yang converting after a scramble in the box. The tempo never relented and by the half-hour mark, Nygren had fired us into the lead with a composed finish, before Engels added a penalty just before the interval sending us into the break with a scarcely believable 4–2 advantage.
The opening Livingston goal exposed familiar issues. Although Tierney initially lost possession, Yang worked tirelessly to recover and apply pressure, while Ralston pushed off and ball-watched when he should have engaged, allowing the attack to develop unchecked. That same lack of awareness contributed to the second goal conceded, reinforcing ongoing concerns around defensive concentration. Despite this, Nygren continued to underline his importance, offering a commanding midfield presence and taking his tally to ten goals from midfield this season. Yang, who came close to leaving in the summer, demonstrated that his work rate cannot be questioned and his tenacity earned us the second equaliser. He later came close again with a header. Nygren’s second goal, in particular, was pure quality, showcasing his technical ability and composure in front of goal.
The second half was less frantic in terms of scoring, but Livingston continued to create chances that a stronger side might have converted. While our attacking elements remain potent, the defensive shortcomings were again evident. Livingston tested Sinisalo, with Montano and Macaulay Tait repeatedly applying pressure to a backline that struggled for stability. Over the ninety minutes, Livingston registered thirteen shots, eight of them from inside our penalty area, with Montano accounting for six. It bears repeating that he was a left-back. Livingston recorded 26 touches inside our box and attempted 31 crosses, significantly above their season average of 19. The scoreline could have looked far worse had they been more clinical. For Montano’s first goal, Ralston was nowhere to be seen and Yang could not recover in time, for the second, the 34-year-old was completely unmarked, afforded the space to set himself and rifle past Sinisalo yet again due to Ralston not marking.
Despite those flaws, Nancy’s side dominated possession and chance creation, further illustrating the attacking principles he instilled. We finished with 18 shots, seven on target, created five big chances, and generated an xG total of 3.44. We completed 638 passes and controlled nearly 70 percent of possession, compared to Livingston’s 209 passes. The attacking intent was overwhelming, but the match once again highlighted the defensive fragility that has marked Nancy’s early tenure. Yang and Ralston were repeatedly exposed, underlining the vulnerability of the back three, particularly when wing-backs are asked to balance aggressive attacking roles with defensive responsibility. Sinisalo impressed following Kasper Schmeichel’s injury, reflecting Nancy’s willingness to place trust in younger players under pressure. The victory left us three points behind Premiership leaders Hearts, with Nancy stressing the importance of spirit and competitiveness while openly acknowledging that control and defensive stability remain works in progress.
There is no denying that we could be a constant attacking threat under Nancy. At the top end of the pitch, there are unmistakable echoes of Postecoglou but ultimately , this victory reinforced both the promise and the problem of Nancy’s Celtic. The attacking identity is clear and increasingly coherent, but the difficulty of marrying offensive freedom with defensive resilience remained unresolved. With the transfer window approaching, strengthening the centre of the defence and adding a clinical striker feel essential if this high-octane football is to translate into a genuine title challenge
Game Eight: Motherwell 2-0 Celtic: Scottish Premiership
Any optimism gained from Aberdeen and Livingston was stripped away almost immediately at Fir Park. From the first whistle, it was obvious something was badly wrong. We looked lost, like a group of players who had never met, and the system didn’t suit anyone on the pitch. Motherwell were sharper, stronger, and far more comfortable in possession, while we huffed and puffed without any real shape or purpose. From the away end, you could feel the nerves ripple through the team every time we lost the ball, a collective anxiety that fed into every poor decision.
The opening goal summed us up perfectly. Our defensive positioning was a mess. While the cross itself was excellent, it was basic, unforgivable defending from Trusty, who completely lost his marker and conceded far too easily. It also felt like Schmeichel should have been off his line, attacking the ball rather than staying rooted to it. It was embarrassing defending, the kind you expect to see corrected in a training drill, not unfolding in a Premiership match. After that, our heads went. Passes went astray, tackles were half-hearted, and we couldn’t string together any meaningful sequences of play. Motherwell could, and probably should have been further ahead before half-time. We barely laid a glove on them. Players drifted out of position, confidence drained visibly, and it felt like everyone was reacting a second too late to everything around them. Motherwell played through our lines with alarming ease. To their credit, they play good football, and their system clicked almost instantly. In truth, they dismantled us.
The changes at half-time did little to alter the pattern. There was a slight increase in desperation, but it brought chaos rather than control. The second goal came from sustained high pressure — and it was telling that a team like Motherwell now felt confident enough to press us aggressively. We simply couldn’t cope. Engels slipped, the defence panicked, and Schmeichel was again found wanting. Suddenly we were two goals down with half an hour still to play. At that moment, belief in the away end evaporated and what replaced it was resignation rather than anger, which may be the most worrying sign of all. Motherwell looked capable of scoring whenever they chose, while we resorted to hopeful shots and moments that never truly materialised.
Nygren had a decent chance late on, but it came too late to change anything meaningful. By then, the team looked like it had lost confidence and perhaps, more worryingly, belief in Nancy. By full-time, it was simply a grim watch. It was not a narrow defeat or an unlucky
night, we were second best in every department. As a supporter, it’s painful to watch the team look so disjointed and fragile, especially with the table tightening and rivals waiting to capitalise. Seven games into this new era, it feels like we’re going backwards rather than forwards. Walking out of Fir Park, all I could think about was how far we are from looking like a side anyone truly believes in right now.
December has felt like a month suspended between belief and inevitability, a stretch of football that captured both the promise of Wilfried Nancy’s ideas and the growing sense that time is running out for him. There were moments – flashes of dominance against Aberdeen, the breathless chaos at Livingston – where the attacking philosophy looked alive, even exhilarating, and for brief spells it was possible to convince ourselves that the corner had been turned. But those highs were consistently undercut by the same flaws resurfacing again and again with defensive fragility, mental uncertainty and a team that oscillated wildly between control and collapse. Fir Park felt like the breaking point, stripping away whatever fragile momentum had been built and leaving behind a side that looked disjointed, anxious, and unsure of its own identity. As December closed, it no longer felt like a question of if Nancy will be sacked, but when, with the club seemingly drifting toward a decision rather than decisively backing or cutting ties. With the January derby looming December ultimately left us feeling stuck between chaos and consequence, hope and resignation.
