The Celtic manager admitted, “We weren’t quite at our best,” following the torrential downpour that overtook his team.
He stated it without concern about rebuttal. ‘Not quite at their best’ was a fairly unarguable assessment after witnessing his team lose 7-1 despite making so many mistakes that 10-1 wouldn’t have flattered Borussia Dortmund.
In less than thirty minutes, Dortmund turned Celtic into trembling wrecks by taking advantage of their ignorance. It was harsh. Their demise came quickly and horribly.
The shocking mistakes made by the frightened guests were astounding. Their coolness evaporated at the sight of a yellow and black shirt.
A few of the goals were brilliant finishes, hammered home with passion by players unable to believe their good fortune.
In midfield, Julian Brandt was able to find as much space as he pleased, and no one seemed to think it prudent to take any action. However, Celtic lacks a player who possesses that quality—a destroyer, someone who can detect danger, or, heaven forbid, someone who could alert Brandt to his presence.
