The different rules for Celtic: why the outrage has become a frenzy

For over 40 years, I have watched Celtic FC. I have seen triumphs, disasters, scandals, controversies, pitch invasions, title celebrations, violence in Scottish football, and media storms that came and went within days. But I have never witnessed anything remotely like the reaction to Celtic fans celebrating on the pitch after winning the league.

Let’s be absolutely clear from the outset: supporters should not have entered the pitch. Most Celtic fans accept that. The club itself will likely face sanctions and deserved criticism over safety and crowd control. Nobody sensible is arguing otherwise.

But what has unfolded since then has gone far beyond criticism. It has become hysteria.

The language used has been extraordinary. “Tainted title.” “Points deduction.” “National embarrassment.” Endless outrage poured across television studios, radio phone-ins, newspaper columns and social media feeds as though Scottish football had experienced an unprecedented collapse into chaos.

Yet anyone with even a passing knowledge of football knows pitch invasions happen everywhere.

They happen in England. They happen in Germany. They happen in Italy. They happen in South America. They happen virtually every season in Scotland. Clubs celebrate promotions, relegation survivals, cup wins and league titles with fans spilling onto pitches. Sometimes it is condemned briefly, fines are issued, and football moves on.

But when Celtic are involved, the reaction becomes volcanic.

That is the uncomfortable truth many in the Scottish mainstream media refuse to acknowledge.

Why is it that behaviour which elsewhere is treated as regrettable but understandable suddenly becomes a moral apocalypse when it concerns Celtic? Why does the discussion instantly escalate toward unprecedented punishments? Why is there talk of stripping legitimacy from a title won over the course of an entire season?

And perhaps most importantly: why are so many of the loudest voices driving this outrage the same familiar faces tied historically and emotionally to Rangers?

The involvement of figures like Ally McCoist, Kris Boyd, Keith Jackson, and Derek McInnes has helped create a febrile atmosphere where outrage feeds outrage. Every incident involving Celtic is amplified beyond proportion, repeated endlessly until it becomes detached from reality.

Then comes the performative moralising.

TalkSPORT segments. Phone-ins dominated by furious rival supporters. Commentators competing to sound more offended than the last. Jim White discussing “tainted titles” as though a season of football is somehow invalidated by post-match disorder after the trophy has already been won on merit.

It is absurd.

And Celtic supporters are right to ask why the standards appear different when applied to their club.

Would every club face calls for points deductions after a pitch invasion? Of course not.

Would every title victory be described as “tainted”? Absolutely not.

Would politicians, pundits and former players be demanding national soul-searching if this involved another support? History tells us they would not.

That double standard is precisely why many Celtic fans believe something deeper is at work here.

Is it sectarianism? In some cases, perhaps. Is it cultural bias? Undoubtedly. Is there an institutional hostility toward Celtic within sections of Scottish football and media culture? Increasingly, many supporters believe there is.

For decades, Celtic have occupied a unique place in Scottish society – a club tied historically to Irish immigration, Catholic identity, working-class communities and an outsider tradition within Scotland’s establishment structures. To pretend those historical tensions no longer exist would be naive.

Modern Scotland likes to imagine it has moved beyond these prejudices, yet moments like this expose how quickly old instincts return. The outrage directed toward Celtic often feels less like objective criticism and more like a deep resentment waiting for an excuse to surface.

That resentment becomes especially obvious when compared to how other behaviour in Scottish football has been treated historically.

Fans invading pitches? Seen before.

Pyrotechnics? Seen before.

Crowd disorder? Seen before.

Violence? Sadly, seen before.

But suddenly the conversation becomes existential because Celtic supporters celebrated a title too wildly.

The scale of condemnation has become entirely disconnected from the actual event itself.

Meanwhile, there is almost no introspection from the media ecosystem fuelling the fire. No acknowledgment that constant inflammatory coverage creates toxicity. No recognition that outrage-driven broadcasting thrives on keeping Celtic permanently framed as a problem to be managed rather than a football club to be covered fairly.

Because outrage sells.

Especially outrage about Celtic.

That is why supporters cannot simply stay silent while narratives harden around them. Criticism is fair. Selective outrage is not. Accountability is fair. Demonisation is not.

Celtic fans should reject the pitch invasion itself while also refusing to accept the grotesque exaggeration that followed. Those two positions are not contradictory.

And amid all this noise, one thing should not be forgotten: this was one of the sweetest league titles Celtic have ever won.

A season of pressure. A season of scrutiny. A season where many outside the club desperately wanted Celtic to fail. Instead, the team delivered another championship and supporters celebrated with emotion that, while excessive, came from passion and joy rather than malice.

That achievement should not be erased by days of manufactured outrage.

Nor should Celtic supporters apologise for recognising the hypocrisy unfolding in front of them.

Because after 40 years of watching Scottish football, many fans have reached the same conclusion:

When Celtic are involved, the rules suddenly change.