Glenn Gibbons: James Forrest the new Jinky? Don’t be so ridiculous

“It looks,” wrote the deranged poster, “as though we might have another Jinky”.

Perhaps it says everything anyone needs to know about the cerebral processes of the majority of those who spend most of their waking hours on these threads that the comment was not reported to the moderators as suitable for immediate, no-argument excision. Mere removal of the mindless observation, of course, would have been pathetically inappropriate punishment, a frontal lobotomy much more fitting.

The madman’s lurch over the edge was apparently occasioned by the performance of James Forrest in Celtic’s ultimately convincing 4-1 victory at Easter Road. This latest example of the insanity would once again leave those of us with first-hand experience of the late Jimmy Johnstone in his peerless prime wondering why so many supposedly immovable supporters of the Parkhead club are so willing – and almost on an annual basis – to demean his uniqueness and insult his memory.

Forrest, of course, is simply the innocent, most recent young winger wearing green and white hoops to be acclaimed as the reincarnation of Johnstone. Before him, it was Aiden McGeady, who had smart feet but, after six years in the Celtic first team, was still demonstrating that he had much to learn about how to play professional football.

Forrest may turn out to be a more productive player than McGeady. Unlikely as it seems, he could even become widely recognised as a greater player than wee Jimmy; but he won’t be another Johnstone, because nobody before or since has played like him and it is already clear that Forrest, like all his predecessors, bears no resemblance to the little giant.

The urge among fans to proclaim a new hero – however absurd the proposition may be – is probably prompted by a number of factors. Among the most obvious would be despair; watching the present Celtic side could cause a wish to see a portent of imminent redemption so strong that it could result in delusion.

There is also the possibility of a generational kink, affecting not only younger supporters, but also those youthful members of the media whose reference points in the matter of judging and correlating levels of performance may have been seriously weakened by immersion in the ever-declining standards of the Scottish game over the past 20 years or so.

There is, too, the customary tendency among reporters and commentators of all ages and every era to rush towards premature acclamation of emerging “talents” who prove to be quite useless. Nor, it seems, does any number of exposures of mediocrity – as provided by SPL teams’ ignominy in Europe and their embarrassments against First Division opponents in the League Cup – slow the broadcasters’ stampede towards exaltation of bad players.

During the second half of a match in which a dreadful, feckless and sluggish Celtic team (both physically and mentally) found some improvement against a desperate Hibs side who, astonishingly, actually managed to deteriorate after the interval, the young BBC commentator, Liam McLeod, clearly became a little over-excited as he talked of Forrest “terrorising” the home defenders. Turning to Craig Paterson, the ex-Hibs defender riding shotgun, he asked: “Craig, just how good has James Forrest been this season?”.

Like most former players except the wonderfully brutal Graeme Souness, Craig was too polite or too mindful of his young colleague’s enthusiasm to give the correct answer.

Instead of basically going along with McLeod’s song of praise, he should have replied: “Well, Liam, he’s been good enough to help Celtic fall ten points behind Rangers in the league championship.”

Whatever bursts of form Forrest, or any of his team-mates, may have produced on particular occasions, any evaluation of his or their worth at this stage should be informed by acknowledgement of his and their part in Celtic’s less glorious experiences through this so far largely undistinguished season.