Celtic's Struggles Continue After Europa League Defeat
The noise around Celtic used to be about how far they could go, how high they might climb. Right now, it’s about how far they might fall.
Another bruising night in Europe, another three goals conceded, another performance that felt more like a cry for help than a serious contest. Ferencvaros didn’t just beat Celtic in their Europa League opener; they exposed them. Again.
This is no longer a blip. It looks and feels like something deeper.
From Ibrox shellacking to Budapest bruising
Celtic arrived in Hungary on the back of a mauling at Ibrox, needing clarity, control, a bit of defiance. They left with none of it.
The pattern was familiar and alarming. Sloppy in midfield. Loose at the back. Negative on the ball. The basics of pass and move – once second nature to this club – looked like advanced theory. The intensity wasn’t there. The work-rate wasn’t there. The conviction certainly wasn’t there.
They actually started reasonably well. They had the ball, they had territory, they had 62.5% possession in the first half. It meant nothing. One soft concession, one moment of quality to level, and then a retreat into safe passes and safe decisions, as if afraid of their own shadow.
When Ferencvaros struck again before the break, the goal screamed of a side in trouble. Celtic dithered over a loose ball, failed to stop the cross, then fell apart in the middle. Hesitation, weakness, disorganisation – the full catalogue. Poor teams give away goals like that. Celtic did.
They went in 2-1 down, with Camilo Duran – picked centrally ahead of Kasper Hogh – having touched the ball just eight times in that opening period. Eight. For a centre-forward at this level, it’s damning.
A pale imitation of Postecoglou’s Celtic
The contrast with the Ange Postecoglou era is now stark. Back then, Celtic were relentless. Aggressive. Inventive. They played with pace and risk and a kind of joyful arrogance, dragging defenders into places they hated and then punishing them.
This version is a ghost of that side.
The attempts at a comeback in the second half were half-hearted and half-baked. Shots from distance, hopeful rather than planned. No real cohesion, no real pressing, no real speed. When they tried to “go for it”, it looked like improvisation, not identity.
The crowd knew it. The energy dropped, the boos grew, and the whole evening began to echo some of Celtic’s darkest European nights of recent years – Cluj, Copenhagen, Sparta Prague. The old scars were reopened. The old doubts returned.
Big names, shrinking influence
This isn’t just about tactics or shape. It’s about players shrinking in front of our eyes.
Duran, so bright and enthusiastic when he arrived in Glasgow, now looks like a man searching for himself. Hogh, signed for £11m with a continental scoring record that included goals against Man City, Atletico Madrid, Inter Milan, Sporting, Porto, Jagiellonia and Olympiacos, has turned into a disconnected, awkward figure up front. His first touch is heavy, his chances are non-existent. One goal in eight Celtic games tells its own story.
Martin O’Neill hasn’t found the key to unlock him. Not yet.
Even Callum McGregor, the heartbeat and conscience of this team, looks lost. The captain who usually drags others with him is now talking about a side that is “a little bit broken”. On the pitch, you can see what he means.
O’Neill’s aura under strain
O’Neill has built his reputation on solving problems. He did it in his first spell at Celtic, when the trophies flowed. He did it again last season, walking into chaos and walking out with order, belief and a title run-in where nobody could lay a glove on his team.
That aura is under strain now.
His post-match words in Budapest were about frustration, failure, psychological damage. He promised they would “get ourselves together” for Rangers on Sunday, but the delivery was flat, the mood weary. It didn’t sound like a manager brimming with answers. It sounded like one searching for them.
His personality once gave Celtic a snarl, a refusal to accept defeat. They were not always pretty, but they were brutally hard to beat. That resilience feels distant. The current side looks brittle, short on ideas, short on conviction, short on physical and mental edge.
When your manager appears drained and your captain calls the team broken, alarm bells are not just ringing – they’re deafening.
Arzani’s strike twists the knife
If Celtic’s night needed a symbol, it came in the form of Daniel Arzani.
The former Celtic winger, who barely left a footprint during his time in Glasgow, found himself in acres of space on the left during a Ferencvaros counter. Colby Donovan had over-committed in attack and was now sprinting hopelessly back, chasing a situation that had already gone.
Arzani didn’t rush. He waited, picked his spot, and whipped a magnificent shot into the top corner. A beautiful finish. A horrible moment for Celtic.
The move cut through them with embarrassing ease. There was more structure in a slapstick sketch. The kind of goal that strips away any illusion of control and lays the truth bare: this team is wide open.
A season on the brink
The numbers are stacking up against Celtic. Five conceded against LASK. A desperate afternoon at Ibrox. Now this in Budapest. The pattern is not just worrying – it’s damning.
They look short of creativity, short of ruthlessness, short of a stomach for the fight. The football is safe when it needs to be daring, anxious when it needs to be calm. They keep the ball but don’t control the game. They chase but don’t hunt.
O’Neill has climbed out of holes before. His career is built on comebacks and defiance. You almost expect him to find a way again. But the list of issues is long, and the time to address them is brutally short.
Because next comes Rangers. At Celtic Park. The second act of this season’s Old Firm drama arrives with Celtic wounded and Rangers sensing blood.
McGregor admits the team is “a little bit broken”. Rangers will fancy their chances of landing another blow. Celtic, for their part, will cling to the old warning: beware the backlash.
On Sunday, we find out if this is still a Celtic team capable of one. Or if that, too, now belongs to yesterday.
