There is a particular kind of cruelty in football that reveals itself only in hindsight. The decision that seemed sensible at the time, the appointment that ticked every box on the recruitment committee's spreadsheet, the calculated gamble that ignores the wisdom of experience in favour of the promise of modernity. Celtic are living through such a moment now, and Martin O'Neill's words on Monday morning will echo around Parkhead for a very long time indeed.
The confession that changes everything
Speaking on talkSPORT, O'Neill was asked whether he had wanted to lead Celtic out at Hampden for Sunday's Premier Sports Cup final. His answer was devastatingly simple: "Only if asked. That was not a driving force. I'd happily have stayed on. If they had asked me to stay on, I would've done so, but the minute that they said, 'no, that's your time', that's fine by me."
Consider what Celtic have gained and lost in the fortnight since that decision was made. Under O'Neill, they won seven of eight matches. They beat Rangers 3-1 in the semi-final. They recorded a famous European victory at Feyenoord, their first away win on the continent since November 2021. They won all five league games and drew level with Hearts at the top of the Scottish Premiership with a game in hand.
Under Wilfried Nancy, they have lost all three matches. Hearts at home. Roma at home. And now St Mirren in a cup final that should have been a procession but instead became a humiliation, the Buddies running out 3-1 winners to claim their first League Cup since 2013. Jonah Ayunga, a striker who had scored just twice all season, found the net twice against a Celtic defence that looked like strangers who had met that morning at the team hotel.
A handover measured in minutes
Perhaps the most revealing detail in O'Neill's interview concerned his meeting with Nancy. The board had asked him to stay and brief the incoming manager. He did so. The conversation lasted fifteen minutes.
"Very affable, very nice," O'Neill said of Nancy. "It's only a 10 or 15-minute conversation. What can you make of anybody in that time? He's got his own philosophy, his own viewpoint on the game, and that's absolutely fine. I was not going to be coming in and giving him advice. I said very, very little. He would have seen the matches."
There is no malice in those words, but there is something almost worse: the polite acknowledgement that Nancy arrived with his mind already made up, that the wisdom accumulated over five weeks of competitive football, of understanding which players responded to pressure and which wilted, of knowing the rhythms and relationships within a dressing room, was deemed irrelevant to the project ahead.
Nancy immediately switched Celtic to a back three, a formation that has exposed every defensive weakness in the squad. Chris Sutton, who knows Parkhead as well as anyone, did not mince his words: "He has overestimated the level of player at the club right now. To play the way he wants takes tactical intelligence and flexibility and good decision making, something this group of players lack."
The harmony Celtic have lost
O'Neill spoke of something deeper than tactics, something that cuts to the heart of what has gone wrong at Celtic this season. "Celtic disunited are not the Celtic that people should be aware of," he said. "Celtic need harmony again."
The relationship between the supporters and the board has deteriorated significantly. The departure of Brendan Rodgers in late October, the second time he has walked away from the club, created fractures that have not healed. The appointment of Nancy, a manager unknown to most Scottish football observers, was met with scepticism rather than excitement. Three defeats in ten days have transformed that scepticism into something approaching open revolt.
What makes O'Neill's intervention so damaging is not that he criticised Nancy directly. He did not. He was careful to call for patience, to remind listeners that he himself had struggled at Leicester City before eventually finding success. "You cannot make a judgement on anybody over three games," he said. "The matches were difficult. You've got to give a manager some time."
But in revealing that he would have stayed, that he was willing to see out the season, that he was asked to leave rather than choosing to go, O'Neill has given the discontented supporters something to focus their anger upon. The board made a choice. They chose the 48-year-old from Columbus Crew over the 73-year-old who had just delivered their best run of form all season. They chose philosophy over pragmatism, potential over proven excellence.
The fire that still burns
Perhaps the most striking aspect of O'Neill's interview was his admission that the experience had rekindled something he thought might have faded. "I was very, very worried about it," he said of returning to management. "If you fail, you are considered too old for the job and that this is a young man's game. Thankfully, I don't think I messed it up."
He did not mess it up. He excelled. And when asked whether his brief return had whetted his appetite for another job, his answer was unequivocal: "I would have to say absolutely. I've never lost the appetite for the game, I've certainly not lost enthusiasm and I've got energy to burn."
There is something bittersweet about watching a man of O'Neill's achievements speak with such evident hunger. He won the treble at Celtic in his first season. He took them to the UEFA Cup final in 2003. He managed Aston Villa to three consecutive top-six finishes in the Premier League. He led the Republic of Ireland to the European Championship. And yet here he is, at 73, having to prove that he can still do the job, having to justify his continued relevance to a footballing world that increasingly views experience as a liability rather than an asset.
What comes next
Nancy faces Dundee United on Wednesday, then a run of fixtures that will either stabilise his position or render it untenable. The squad is unbalanced, the injuries are mounting, and the confidence that O'Neill carefully rebuilt has been shattered in the space of ten days. Hearts lead the Scottish Premiership by six points. The Europa League campaign, which looked so promising after the Feyenoord victory, now hangs by a thread following the Roma defeat.
O'Neill, for his part, returns to his life in London, to his talkSPORT commitments, to the comfortable retirement that he never quite seemed to embrace. He leaves Celtic having done everything asked of him and more. He leaves with his reputation enhanced rather than diminished. He leaves, crucially, having been asked to leave rather than choosing to go.
That distinction matters. It matters because it reveals where the responsibility lies for what comes next. If Nancy succeeds, the board's gamble will be vindicated. If he fails, if Celtic's season collapses entirely, if Hearts claim the title and the European dream dies in the group stages, then the question will be asked again and again: why did they let Martin O'Neill go?
He would have stayed. He said so himself. And in saying so, he ensured that the Celtic board will never be allowed to forget it.
