2003-09-30: Celtic 2-0 Lyon, Champions League

LIAM Miller had the thrill of his young life at Parkhead last night, the young Irishman coming off the bench to head the goal that started Celtic’s hard-won victory and took them back into contention for honours in Group A of the Champions League.

By the time Chris Sutton headed the second, both goals coming from impeccable crosses by the peerless Henrik Larsson, the home support had forgotten Alan Thompson’s failure to convert a first-half penalty kick that could have made the experience of being at this extraordinary event marginally less nerve-jangling.

Like golf, the most ferociously competitive club competition in world football was not meant to be easy. These matches are invariably, both physically and mentally, relentlessly punitive, making endless demands on the spirit and fortitude of the participants.

For every problem Celtic presented to Lyon, the French champions seemed to match up, leading to the kind of engrossing, unremittingly dramatic confrontation that generates an exhilarating atmosphere. And this level of football can be as illusory as a hallucination. At their best, Lyon, for example, looked more like the home team than Celtic, attacking freely at every opportunity and demonstrating all the virtuosity that had made Martin O’Neill properly respectful of their capabilities.

They were, as predicted, pacey and inventive, shot through with skill and physically strong when that attribute was required. Often enough, however, they were unconvincing in the way they finished their promising outfield work, poor shooting being a feature of their play throughout the first half.

There was, however, nothing wrong with the header with which Giovane Elber tested the suspect awareness of Magnus Hedman midway through those first 45 minutes. The ball was chipped forward by Vikash Dhorasoo and the Brazilian striker, back to goal, twisted his neck muscles to glance the header low to the left of the goalkeeper.

It did not appear particularly powerful or even troublesome, but Hedman once again was suddenly scrambling low to his left to touch it wide for a corner kick.

But Lyon’s weaknesses in the matter of disturbing the net were, of course, nothing compared to Celtic’s when they were given the most convertible opportunity of all.

It was when Larsson cut across Anthony Reveillere that the defender nudged him and the Spanish referee, under no protest from the French, awarded the penalty kick. Gregory Coupet was on the move so early that it was easy to imagine Thompson assessing the situation on the run-up and sending the ball in the opposite direction. Instead, he drove it low with his left foot to his favoured place – the left of the goalkeeper – and Coupet was already there, making the block.

It was not, of course, the first occasion of alarm for the visitors as Celtic, with commendable spirit and no little guile, had created chances that, with a little luck, could have brought an advantage earlier. Larsson’s sweeping pass out to Didier Agathe allowed the winger to find Sutton on the left of the area, but the Englishman hurried and snatched his shot over the bar. Sutton also supplied John Hartson on the right and his cross dropped between Thompson and Larsson.

The midfielder left it to the striker, but Larsson’s left-foot shot on the turn ran straight to Coupet, who gathered at the second attempt. Stilian Petrov’s free kick was another source of menace, the ball finding Hartson at the far post, but the low header was also directed too close to the goalkeeper.

O’Neill, as expected, had recalled Hartson to the front line as Larsson’s partner and the big Welshman frequently made his manager look like a very good judge of these occasions. Despite his seeming lack of mobility, Hartson’s bulk and sure touch, as well as the purity of his striking, all combine to give defences an array of problems.

When Hartson nimbly turned inside and strode away from two opponents out on the left, he finished the solo effort with a powerful drive towards the far corner which had Coupet fully stretched to fingertip the ball wide.

It was Hartson, too, who was on the end of the corner kick from Thompson and, as he chested it down, he was unfortunate to see the ball come off the knee of Edmilson. It was to a deserved accolade that the understandably tiring striker left the field, to be replaced by Miller, after 64 minutes. The substitute moved into midfield, allowing Sutton to move into the front line with Larsson, who had, just before, delivered a fierce, right-footed drive from the edge of the area which brought another crucial – and, for Celtic, frustrating – save from Coupet.

But, if the decision to play Hartson was sound, the one that replace him with Miller proved to be inspired. It was the novice midfielder who finished off the sweet move that gave Celtic the lead.

Having kept possession for a lengthy period by playing it back and forth across midfield, Jackie McNamara suddenly switched the ball to Thompson, who flicked it first-time forward to Larsson. The Swede drifted past Eric Deflandre before delivering a perfect cross to the far side of the area, where Miller arrived to send the downward header into the ground and past Coupet on the bounce.

It was, by then, the least the home side deserved for their tenacity and composure in the face of a stern examination by extremely able opponents but, of course, Sutton ensured that there would be more.