SPL Sunday April 27th

Rangers 1

Celtic 2

0:1 Thompson (18 pen); 0:2 Hartson (42); 1:2 de Boer 57

Att: 49,740

MIB: Hugh Dallas

Celtic: Douglas (Broto 9), Valgaeren, Balde, Laursen; Agathe, Lambert, Lennon, Sutton, Thompson; Hartson (Petrov 66), Larsson

Only two days after the triumph in Porto and Celtic have to face a rested Rangers. TFOD, still smug in the knowledge that they had successfully lobbied for the game to go ahead after such a short interval, looked forward to an easy game against a tired Celtic. Hacks were in overdrive, salivating at the thought of their beloved team pulling further in front in the league race. The Hoops had other ideas.

The Seville party has started already: passports, lilos, shades, beachballs, sombreros and the local Monklands Sangria all made their way to Govan. The team, still on a high from Thursday night's mammoth result, proceeded to blow away the Cat in the Hat's litter tray XI with a controlled display of mature football.

The signs of tiredness were still there though, with Larsson constantly fumbling and sticking the ball under his feet and Rab D feeling the effects of a thigh strain. But even the replacement of Douglas with Broto early on made no difference to the performance. Celtic had the cloven hooves in their back pockets. No one was more immense than Bobo, who left De Boer flailing like one of those old Dutch rag dolls at every challenge. His contributions are easily making him a candidate for Player of the Season.

The goals were a dream. The first came from the spot after Amadiddy did what he does best - make a diddy of himself with a body-check on Hartson in the box, when he was easier to foul outside it. Thommo duly sent Klot the wrong way. Amadiddy gaped inanely and dribbled saliva from his gob.

The second saw Agathe skin Lovenkrands and deliver a cutback which Henke back heeled to Hartson with a sublime touch. The little trick was enough to bewilder the brutes in the box and free big bad John to score number two.

TFOD were in disarray. The Hoops partied and the Govan scurvy were in despair. It was a joy to behold. A personal highlight was to watch Klot fumble for a ball that had come off the post. He hadn't a clue and he was the most composed of the Orcs on the park.

The second half was as entertaining, even though De Boer pulled one back. Broto was rarely troubled, and just listened to the Celtic karaoke as the Celts hit on the counter attack. Larsson could easily have made it three, but for a spawny save from Klot. TFOD couldn't raise their game. Celtic seemed to have discovered a new source of oxygen for their lugs and energy for tired legs. The litter tray XI just sputtered through the 90 minutes.

As 2:1 results go, this was easy! The title race is still on and Seville beckons. McLeish must be sick.