SPL Saturday December 1st

Celtic 3

Hibernian 0

1:0 Hartson (11); 2:0 Hartson (40); 3:0 Lennon (72)

Att: 59,413

MIB: Willie Young

Celtic: Douglas; Valgaeren (Crainey 78), Sutton, Mjallby; Petta, Petrov, Lambert, Lennon (Maloney 78), Sylla; Larsson, Hartson

Celtic welcomed back Chris Sutton for this one following his recent family trauma, which we all hope is behind him now. And if ever there was a team guaranteed to give him a stress free afternoon at the heart of the defence then it would be big Eck's hopeless Hibs.

Coming to Parkhead is never usually a pleasant experience for Hibs and on the back of a run of form which had seen them take one point from their previous seven games under their own flame-haired Maestro it was always going to be a chance for the Hoops to cast aside recent indifferent league performances and re-establish some dominance at the top of the table. And so it proved, with the opener coming from a correct score/ first scorer coupon buster.

The game was barely started before it was effectively finished. Hartson rose like a salmon - one which had eaten another salmon for its dinner at half past two - to meet a Lambert cross and as the Hibs defence stood around gawping their admiration the ball sailed over the 'keeper and into the net.

This prompted a few minutes of sporadic plodding Low Bee expeditions beyond the halfway line but Celtic's superiority was reflected in the strangely diffident atmosphere around the stadium. The contrast between ritual SPL slaughters and healthy Champions League competition was never more clearly illustrated.

The fans came to life just before half-time though, to acknowledge another strike by John Hartson, goal machine extraordinaire. Latching on to a Mjallby through ball he made his way towards the Hibernian goal like a first world war tank. The Hibs rear guard advanced towards him like Captain Mainwaring's Home Guard, and before they could exclaim a collective "Don't panic!" the ball had been chipped over all their heads and beyond the goalie, who seemed to have been consumed by a temporary fit of wanderlust. It was a superb effort and gave anyone who had been waiting for it the chance to write the words "Hartson" and "finesse" in the same sentence, possibly for the only time ever.

The third came from an even more unlikely source. Neil Lennon marauded up the pitch as if he was on a Viking raiding party, collected a pass from Hartson and cracked a great shot from about 25 yards into the top corner.

A much better performance all round and hopefully a sign of better things to come.