Breaking: NEW ”CELTIC MANAGER” Threatens the Club with his Bad plans

Breaking: NEW ”CELTIC MANAGER” Threatens the Club with his Bad plans

During a long career in journalism, Alex worked as the sports editor of the best-selling Sunday Mail. Among his fifteen

published Celtic books are “50 Flags Plus One” and “Lisbon Lions: The 40th Anniversary Celebration.”

In 2015, Ringwood published his first book of newspaper memoirs, “Jinx Dogs Burns Now Flu,” in which he recalled the

audience with the new gaffer.

This is Alex’s account of his initial encounter with the Northern Irishman.

Martin O’Neill gave everyone in the room a lethal look before stating, “I want you all to know that I hold a grudge, just to

be absolutely sure about this.” No, I’m not making this up. I do, in fact, harbor grudges. To be honest, I do.

On a brilliantly sunny June 2000 afternoon, I had received an invitation to see the new Celtic manager at the Crutherland Hotel,

which was tucked away in lovely grounds on the route to East Kilbride. It was an occasion for about fifteen other sports journalists

to meet the new team head for the first time.

Thus, O’Neill was addressing a packed dining room full of strangers while stylishly arriving nearly an hour late.

But he wasn’t sitting around; instead, he put it on the line during his

After spending about an hour with him that day, I quickly realized he wasn’t the biggest joker.

He didn’t seem to be trying to strike up a conversation with anyone in the vicinity, including me,

and instead gave off the impression of being serious and reclusive.

But I did get the distinct feeling that he was assessing everyone in the room, taking quick mental notes, and building up his might.

I thought he was a really serious man, and he had a mean glower to prove it.

The man tasked with giving the dying Celtic Football Club a second lease on life stepped to the head of the table to

command attention when it came to coffee and liquors. He read the standard introduction: “Big

I soon found out that day, after about an hour with him, that he wasn’t the biggest joker.

He appeared serious and withdrawn, not at all like someone who was trying to start a discussion with everyone around, myself included.

Nevertheless, I had the strong impression that he was sizing up everyone in the room, making fast mental notes,

and bolstering his confidence. He had a terrible glower to prove it, and I felt he was a truly serious man.

When it came to coffee and liquors, the man entrusted with giving the Celtic Football Club a second chance at life took the lead at the table. Using the traditional introduction, he read, “Big.

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