Brendan Rodgers isn’t the kind of manager prone to public outbursts. He’s a chess player, always a move or two ahead of his critics. His post-match musings are usually symphonies of charm, diplomacy, and the occasional cutting remark disguised as wisdom. But after Celtic’s 3-0 win over St Mirren, Rodgers abandoned the script and hit an off-note. Instead of focusing on a comfortable victory, he vented about the groans that rippled through the stands when the ball was recycled backwards. And, bafflingly, he took issue with fans singing Kieran Tierney’s name. 

On the face of it, having a pop at your own support after a win seems like a manager punching shadows. But if you look closer, you can see the scars of Ibrox still raw—a bruising 3-0 defeat to Rangers that left Rodgers wounded and searching for control. 

Now, let’s get something straight: the groans at Celtic Park can be frustrating. I get it. Watching a game and hearing that collective sigh when the ball goes backwards, even if it’s the right thing to do, can be draining. Sometimes it feels like it piles needless pressure on the players. But I also understand why it happens—and I think Rodgers does too, even if he’s pretending not to. 

Celtic fans expect the ball to be moved with purpose, not caution. It’s not just about winning—it’s about how you win. The support will accept patience, but only if there’s a clear intent to attack. When the ball is recycled sideways one time too many, that pent-up energy spills out in a groan. It’s not personal—it’s instinct. 

But the problem for Rodgers was timing. That groan against St Mirren wasn’t born in the sterile confines of a routine league game—it was an aftershock from Ibrox, where Celtic looked listless and uninspired. The fans needed to see a furious response. When they didn’t see it immediately, the grumbling started. 

Then came the chants for Kieran Tierney. This is where things got a bit surreal. The supporters weren’t mourning Greg Taylor’s presence—they were dreaming of Tierney’s potential return. A homegrown hero who wore the badge like a second skin, Tierney’s name still holds magic at Celtic Park. 

But Rodgers wasn’t having it. 

“There were a few singing the name of Kieran Tierney at the end there… Yes, of course, it is [a lack of respect]. Greg Taylor has been absolutely amazing at this club.” 

To be fair, I can see where he’s coming from. Taylor has been a model of consistency, remodelling himself into a crucial player, and some of the criticism the defender receives is disrespectful; call that out. But singing for Tierney isn’t a slight on Taylor—it’s nostalgia wrapped in hope. It’s the fans romanticising the idea that Tierney might walk back into Celtic Park and pick up where he left off. The supporters live for stories like that. 

Rodgers framed it as disrespect, but it felt more like a manager nursing an emotional hangover from Ibrox, where Celtic didn’t just lose—they were outfought, outthought, and overrun. The groans and the Tierney chants? They probably sounded, to him, like a continuation of the same criticism he’s been trying to shake off since that derby disaster. 

And here’s the thing about Brendan Rodgers: for all his talk of blocking out “outside noise,” he listens. He reads the room better than most. He knows what’s being said and who’s saying it. His irritation after the St Mirren game wasn’t really about the noise in the stands—it was about the wider perception that, for the first time since his return, he’s slightly vulnerable. 

That’s why the outburst felt miscalculated. The fans groan because they care. Sometimes they care in ways that make the atmosphere heavy when things don’t click, but it comes from a place of expectation, not entitlement. Rodgers may not like the groans, and frankly, neither do I most of the time. But they’re not a betrayal—they’re an emotional reaction from a crowd that demands high standards. 

The Tierney chants weren’t a mutiny—they were a nod to something magical that might be happening behind the scenes. If singing the left-backs name is disrespectful to Greg, is it not disrespectful to actively negotiate with Kieran while Greg is still in the building? No, of course it isn’t, and neither is the chanting Tierney’s name. 

Rodgers needed unity after Ibrox, but at Celtic Park, unity doesn’t mean blind obedience—it means passion, and passion often spills over into noise, whether it’s chants or groans. 

That’s the complexity of managing Celtic. The crowd isn’t just there to watch—they’re there to participate. They’ll roar you to victory; they’ll get up off their seats after the team concedes and let them know ‘we’ve got your back’, but they’ll also let you know when something feels off. The trick is knowing when to listen and when to rise above it. 

Rodgers’ reaction showed that, for all his success, he’s still human. And in that moment, he let the pain of Ibrox linger a little too long. But here’s the key thing: Celtic fans care, Celtic fans want the best for the club, and Celtic fans are sometimes pains in the arse, but vitally the Celtic fans know this team is going places, and they do trust the manager. There is no entitlement; there’s always a demand to be better than the week before and Rodgers thrives off that.

Celtic sit thirteen points clear of their rivals halfway through the season—a testament to Rodgers’ meticulous work and the team’s resilience. The derby defeat at Ibrox will, in the grand scheme of things, likely be remembered as a blip rather than a turning point. But the collective frustration—from the manager, players, and fans alike—after such a bruising loss is no bad thing. It shows that no one at Celtic, regardless of their league position, is willing to accept a result or performance like that without demanding better. Rodgers just needs to recalibrate, channel his frustrations in the right direction, and avoid turning his ire on the supporters who share the same lofty standards.

And if Tierney does walk back through that revolving door? Rodgers might find that the same crowd who groaned at the weekend will erupt with a roar that reminds him just how deep their love for this club—and its heroes—really runs. And that will drown out any sideways sigh. 

@CraigCelt on X | Email: Contact@celtsarehere.com