Brendan Rodgers admitted the other day Scottish football’s limited menu can sometimes lead to a lack of stimulation. If truth be told, it’s probably why he left for Leicester four years ago and it’s precisely the reason he won’t waste any breath trying to convince players to stuff themselves on it for any longer than they have a hunger to remain at Parkhead.
Having tasted what’s on offer elsewhere, Rodgers has reconciled himself with this lack of variety. Perhaps, he has realised the hard way that, for all of the repetitive drudgery of this country’s top flight, Celtic offer a whole lot more than can be easily found even in other, more salubrious environments.
But this weekend, he’ll find himself back in one particular place which seldom failed to stoke the fire inside his stomach. Sunday brunches at Pittodrie.
He’s gorged himself on a few of them down the years. And, more often than not, they beat a full English hands down. For a while it was his battles there with Derek McInnes which kept Celtic’s appetite satisfied at the top of the table.