And so it came to pass. Brendan Rodgers made his (two weeks) long foretold return and most Celtic supporters breathed easily once more. If Rodgers had turned us down this could have been a fraught summer and one in which the delusions of our closest rivals might have become a little more tangible.

When it became known that Ange Postecoglou had beaten his chest for the last time, the return of Rodgers became the only sensible option and the news was duly leaked. Celtic are getting a manager in his prime who led Leicester City to their first-ever FA Cup and a Europa League semi-final.

He also came within a whisker twice of securing a Champions League slot for a club whose natural station in life is to flutter around on the promotion/relegation interface. Their recent successes have made them act like Mohammed Ali when they’re strictly Joe Bugner.

I suspect that those Leicester City supporters who watched them disappear through the relegation trap-door at the end of the season may now be wondering what might have been if they’d kept faith with Rodgers to extricate them from their parlous situation.

Celtic are getting a manager who is still considered an elite coach and who, on account of his achievements at Swansea, Liverpool, Celtic and Leicester would have had a choice of offers from good cubs around Europe once his self-imposed, year-long sabbatical had ended.

It seems too that Rodgers will be given an elite budget with which to work and this ought to be good enough to secure another treble or two at home. He knows too though, that evidence of progress at the Champions League level will also be required to justify the reported fiscal resources he’s being given.

Only Neil Lennon and Gordon Strachan have taken Celtic beyond the group stages of the Champions League. Such feats were difficult enough to attain in 2006, 2007 and 2013.

In the decade that has passed since then though, the gerrymandering of elite European football has been tainted further still by the dirty money flowing towards some English clubs from gangster states. This makes it even more difficult for a club from the ‘honest’ leagues to qualify for the knock-out stages who must rely on a favourable group draw.

One blessing from losing a manager such as Ange Postecoglou is that his successor can immediately expect a decent-sized war-chest. Such was the unbroken stranglehold that Postecoglou exerted over Rangers in his two years at Parkhead that the least we expect is more of the same.

The return of Brendan Rodgers was never going to be accompanied by the sort of fanfare that greeted his first arrival. The supporters are now a little more cynical and cautious about this sort of adulation, having been scarred by the manner of departure of both Rodgers first time around and then Postecoglou.

I sense that we are all now much wiser to the reality of Celtic’s situation. That no matter how special we feel is the bond forged between the support-base and manager this will always be trumped by a professional desire to succeed at the highest level of football.

READ MORE: What history tells us about Celtic's European prospects - James Dailey

This is no bad thing, because inevitably it will happen again. If Rodgers were to continue Celtic’s dominance in Scotland and garnish it with reasonable progress in the Champions League he’ll still be younger than Ange Postecoglou and he’ll be off again. So, we better get accustomed to this reality right now.

Rodgers possesses little of the avuncular, old-school charisma of Postecoglou. This made you feel you could approach him for fatherly advice about career and relationships and be certain that he’d send you on your way a stronger man and happier in your skin.

Towards the end of Rodgers first spell at Celtic he began to channel a sort of leadership and lifestyle guru asking you to change your inner broadband settings to locate your unique barcode so that the world will get to see the lion you truly are. It was mince and murderpolis and long before he departed you were craving a no-nonsense, fuck-off, Neil Warnock kind of vibe.

It was in this context that the Green Brigade’s uncompromising aide-de-memoir to Rodgers should be viewed. Our renowned denizens of Section 111 took the opportunity to puncture any sense of euphoria attaching to Rodgers’ return by reiterating their famous message on his initial departure in 2019. Barely had Celtic announced the re-appointment of the Irishman than the Green Brigade took to social media to release an image of their proclamation: “You traded immortality for mediocrity. Never a Celt, always a fraud.”

The Green Brigade often drive me nuts with some of their declarations, especially when you take your niece to her first game and hope she didn’t see ‘Fuck the Tories’ at the far end of the ground. Yet, much more often than not, the Green Brigade are pitch-perfect in their tone and judgment. And their shot across Brendan Rodgers’ bows was one of those times.

As supporters we are all willingly complicit in a business arrangement with Celtic that proceeds entirely on our willingness to be scalped at every possible turn and to accept that we have no say in the affairs of the club. Indeed, as was the case with some of our directors and our last Chairman, we are often held in contempt by them.

The Green Brigade are the only agency we have in this arrangement. They often provide timely reminders of the forces that have always reviled us within the SFA and at Holyrood. Their messages are uncompromising because that’s the way they have to be to get any attention. It’s their way of saying: “We see you and we know what you’re all about. This is what we’re all about”. They are a rebuke to the corporate, fiduciary-driven reality of our situation.

Some have criticised them for dredging up that old Rodgers banner, but not me. They weren’t calling for a boycott or a mass protest. They were simply telling our philosopher-prince not to patronise us again and just to get on with the job.