The real reason Daizen Maeda became a Celtic cult hero

If last Saturday's opening goal at Hampden Park in the 3-1 Scottish Cup final win over Dunfermline Athletic was Maeda's Celtic swansong, then what a way to bring the curtain down on four-and-a-half glorious and trophy-laden years in Glasgow.

The Celtic fans may only fully appreciate the scale of the void he will leave behind once he is gone.

Maeda evolved beyond being simply an effective winger or a valuable component in Postecoglou, Brendan Rodgers’ and Martin O'Neill's sides.

Some 77 Celtic career goals later, Maeda has now entered the territory which is the domain and reserve of cult icons. The kind of footballers who burrow their way into the collective psyche of a support through sheer force of personality, commitment and emotional connection.

Put simply, Maeda won the hearts and minds of the Celtic faithful.

Those types of players are a rare commodity in the modern-day game. Transfers can feel transactional and players can come and go through the revolving door, especially at a club like Celtic. Beware of worshipping false gods.

It was Maeda's former coach, Postecoglou, who issued a stark reminder to the Celtic supporters when he held the managerial power at Parkhead not to get too attached to their heroes: "Players come and go. The club remains.”

Yet every so often, somebody establishes a bond with a fanbase that bucks the trend and earns comparisons to genuine club legends. HenrikLarsson's 242 goals in 315 games elevated him to the status of deity in G40.

O'Neill wasn't being hyperbolic when he stressed Maeda's seismic contribution to the 2025/26 Scottish Premiership and Scottish Cup-winning campaign.

His nine goals in the last seven games hauled a rag-tag-and-bobtail Celtic team over the line, and his sublime overhead kick against Rangers in the 3-1 Glasgow derby win at Parkhead earlier this month felt like a generational goal. It was certainly a victory for the ages.

Having been denied a potential switch to the Bundesliga and the English Premier League last summer, nobody would begrudge Maeda his move now.

As O'Neill opined: “Daizen has said that if he could get a chance to play in the Premier League, he would want to. I certainly wouldn’t stop him.

“There will be a queue of clubs down there wanting him now after this recent spell. If I was around, I wouldn’t stop Daizen from going.

“Daizen’s last weeks of the season have been absolutely Larssonesque. He has been the galvanising drive for us. He has been amazing. Daizen started to score the goals and the boy grabbed the whole thing.

"Henrik did his seven years and left, although he had told me he was going.”

High praise indeed.

Daizen Maeda celebrates winning the Scottish Cup with Celtic. (Image: PA)

Part of the reason for Maeda's popularity among fans, managers and teammates alike lay in his wholesome approach to the game.

The Celtic supporters warmed to his application and commitment, which are usually a prerequisite and a given if you play for one of Glasgow's big two.

Maeda made the dirty side of the game fashionable and became Celtic's fashion icon on the park, where a bald head and grass-stained shorts equalled total chaos.

The man from Japan made hard graft glamorous as he took football’s industrial side and gave it some designer labels.

Suddenly, chasing down opponents, charging down attempted clearances and robbing an unsuspecting defender of the ball on his blind side were haute couture and could be cheered to the rafters as if a goal had been scored.

Maeda had turned endeavour into an art form and the Celtic supporters absolutely adored him for it. In Glasgow's east end, you can trade on that kind of currency forever.

Remember, a famous man once said that when you play for Celtic you are representing a community and a cause.

No player in recent times has epitomised those words more than Maeda as he found a Paradise in Glasgow some 5,675 miles from home.

Maeda played football with a freedom of expression and a boundless, raw, headless-chicken energy.

He was imperfect, but that only added to his appeal. He could be enigmatic and inconsistent, and his crossing and finishing on any given day could be deplorable, but that was 'just Daizen'.

Football crowds love nothing better than sacrifice and Maeda gave his all for the club badge.

It's easy to understand now why former Celtic boss Gordon Strachan used to bang on about 'good teammates'.

Maeda was the consummate professional. Everything he did was for the good of the team. He was a 'good teammate' and then some. He was stripped of vanity and entirely focused on the job in front of him for the sake of the team.

Maeda was authentic. He never seemed manufactured or robotic. He operated at a high-octane intensity level and he never relented. There was something honest and refreshing about it all.

He was living out every Celtic supporter's dream and enjoying every minute of it.

Daizen Maeda is a candidate to leave Celtic this summer. (Image: PA)

It is largely why his imminent departure this summer will feel so significant. Celtic were never able to replace Larsson. They will never replace Maeda either.

Defenders hated facing Maeda because there was no pause, no mental respite. He harried, chased and provoked panic relentlessly. Just ask James Tavernier his opinion on Maeda.

Maeda was a great unifier. He was the cultural football bridge between the team and support because he embodied everything that was wonderful and mad about being a Celtic player.

They sang for him and he played for them. He was never distant or aloof from the fanbase. There was no sense of celebrity or ego. He carried himself with humility throughout his years at the club and supporters held that quality dear to their hearts. "It's enough to make your heart go...", well, you know the rest.

Maeda was no Monopoly player. He wasn't passing go and collecting $200. He wasn't just visiting either.

He immersed himself in what it meant to represent Celtic on and off the field. He always looked grateful and proud to wear the hooped shirt.

Maeda became more than a footballer to the Celtic support.

He became a tone-setter. A symbol of good old-fashioned application and hard work. Despite being handsomely remunerated, he seemed like a throwback to a time when players did play for the jersey.

Maeda was emotionally invested and committed wholeheartedly to the Celtic shirt. That's why Maeda's cult status and legend will live on in Glasgow. Years from now, Celtic supporters will remember how Maeda made them feel.

They will remember defenders panicking under pressure. They will remember a footballer who played every Celtic match as though it carried enormous personal significance.

Ultimately, every true cult football icon is not perfect, not glamorous or even great.

Maeda was emotionally honest during his Celtic career and what an impact and impression.

He made the Celtic supporters believe that they were watching somebody who valued the coveted green and white hooped shirt as deeply as they do.

This summer, Celtic will undoubtedly lose one of the beating hearts of the modern-day era but what a legacy he leaves behind.