Champions League: Tuesday September 25th

Celtic 1

Porto 0

1:0 Larsson (36)

Att: 58,500

Ref: Dick Jol (Holland)

Celtic: Douglas; Balde, Mjallby, Valgaeren; Agathe, Lambert, Lennon, Petrov (McNamara 87), Petta (Thompson 68); Sutton, Larsson

Our first home test to see if we can survive in the big boys playground without getting our heads stuffed down the toilet and our lunch money stolen. Our opponents arrive with a formidable pedigree; in the nine years previous years Porto have failed to progress from the first group stage only once. We have our work well and truly cut out. But if we have nothing else we have belief that whoever comes to Celtic Park won’t leave without having had a hell of a battle, and so it proved.

We started well enough, although Bobby Petta might want to reconsider his decision to play wearing a pair of Dunlop Green flash given that after a bright start he faded badly. On the other wing Agathe was purposeful enough, and Sutton and Larsson were just Sutton and Larsson; running, harrying, tackling, closing down, and between them carving out the moment that proved vital.

A corner swung in toward Sutton, he managed to force it into the path of Larsson, who poked it in.

At that stage of the game we certainly deserved the goal. At the back, however, we looked slightly fragile, especially the normally redoubtable Joos. After having a torrid time in Turin, he again looked somewhat out of sorts against a decent forward. Perhaps the decision to play him through his injury isn’t such a good one after all.

The second half developed into a cat and mouse game; we were quite happy to let them play the ball about in the middle of the park, but quick to snuff out anything closer to goal.

The only really dodgy moment arrived when they did manage to pass through up front. Fortunately Capucho’s shot caught the inside of the post and bounced out to safety.

As the minutes ticked away and Porto's long range shooting got closer and closer the collective blood pressure rose dramatically and heart rates reached critical. Surely we couldn’t be landed with another Champions League sucker punch.

And then, joy of joys, the whistle went. 3 points, some nice money from the man from UEFA and some much needed Euro kudos. More of this please.