Never mind the cracked crest, Celtic have a cracked team. Gordon Strachan now acknowledges his first genuine crisis since surviving the wreckage of Artmedia Bratislava.

Never mind the cracked crest, Celtic have a cracked team. Gordon Strachan now acknowledges his first genuine crisis since surviving the wreckage of Artmedia Bratislava. Ominously for the Celtic manager, he is at the mercy of a team hopelessly bereft of on-field guidance and assurance. The entire season hinges on a minimum requirement of two victories out of three in the forthcoming Old Firm triple bill.

Bluntly, the contrast in styles is now akin to the church choir taking on the Hell's Angels. There is a genuine concern within Celtic Park that the defending champions lack the devilment to survive physical confrontation against Rangers, who have assumed a brawny, imposing identity since Walter Smith brought out the welding gear.

Until recently, Celtic were at least soothed by the superior artistry that has been a fundamental component of Strachan's undervalued success. Ingenuity and inspiration have inexplicably evaporated from his side, with no sign of immediate replenishment. The colour and vibrancy have gone from the players but, perhaps tellingly, also from the manager.

The bright orange shock of hair has lengthened and lightened in tone. The face, renowned for its gallus glow, has taken on a transparent pallor. For those who misinterpret his media persona as exposing a flippancy about his job, one look at Strachan alone will confirm the dedication, commitment and toll of what increasingly appears a forlorn cause in season three.

Having struggled for universal appeal amid the unprecedented success of two successive championship titles and exploration of unchartered Champions League terrain, Strachan expects no sympathy as he attempts to rejuvenate an ailing side. It is why he calmly and carefully cast aside a scarf thrown at him at full-time on Tuesday.

Celtic have been eliminated from both the CIS Insurance Cup and Scottish Cup at home. The air of invincibility around Celtic Park has been removed by Hearts and Aberdeen. The biggest fear is that some within his ranks have simply stopped listening to his instructions or, worse still, comprehending.

There is a clamour for Strachan to remedy his faltering team between now and March 29, when Celtic expect a distinctly hostile reception at Ibrox. In reality, an oversight from the past may be returning to haunt him. His failure to sign an accomplished centre-back has given Celtic an unsteady foundation and has overworked Stephen McManus.

It is no coincidence that Rangers' results have improved markedly since the acquisition of Carlos Cuellar. Tellingly, Celtic are faltering with their best players afield. They are suffering a chronic lack of leadership, not in the rousing, audible manner of McManus but in the inspirational, industrious way of Neil Lennon. Strachan has simply been unable to adequately replace the former captain. Only after his departure has Lennon's contribution been fully appreciated by the support.

His influence went beyond his limited expertise in the central area. He had an aura and commanded a degree of respect that simply no longer exists within the dressing-room. He was the tie that bound the club during a period of sustained triumph.

The inheritors of that responsibility, McManus aside, are in danger of betraying their manager. Celtic are saddled with a vacuous midfield.

Massimo Donati is destined for inclusion on the debit side of Strachan's signing policy, while Evander Sno's development is undermined by oar-like legs that do not appear in sync with the rest of his body.

Scott Brown is a mystery. He joined with a billing as the most exciting prospect in Scottish football but, even accounting for the over-hyping of his early contributions, he has been a habitual underachiever. His trademark dynamism has been in short supply and, instead, he has become an unruly distraction.

Forgivable daft-boyishness has been replaced by a taciturn tendency that does little to quell speculation of discontent. There are few more appealing options and the lobby for Paul Hartley's inclusion - he has hardly revelled since his £1m transfer from Hearts two years ago - exemplifies a fundamental weakness in a decisive area.

The manager must also be pondering one of the bravest decisions of his tenure. Shunsuke Nakamura may be a model professional but his impact is unquestionably on the wane. He is not physically equipped to deal with the kind of challenge now facing Celtic and it may be in the club's best interests to demote the gifted Japanese in favour of a more robust figure, such as Barry Robson.

Strachan's assertion that Celtic are simply struggling for output is over-simplistic. Privately, he is acutely aware of Celtic's deficiencies but has a pathological loathing for explaining intricate details before a headline-hungry audience. An inability to convert a productive percentage of chances is merely the most obvious malfunction.

Scott McDonald has enjoyed a wondrous spree but there are signs of fatigue at the worst possible time. Celtic have no option but to persist with the Australian because Jan Vennegoor of Hesselink and Georgios Samaras simply cannot be relied upon. Only by combining their respective qualities do you come close to obtaining the ideal centre-forward, but neither seems comfortable when presented with a customary striking chance.

Aiden McGeady's form has dipped purely as a result of marked-man syndrome. Familiarity has bred contempt. Teams have learned to double-up on the winger and he has suffered because Lee Naylor's overlapping has become a thing of the past, few attractive options exist infield and Vennegoor of Hesselink has a staggering fear of a stray ball to the forehead.

For all their problems, the league is not irretrievable but there is hardly cause for comfort as Strachan surveys a sterile squad. Predictably, he has been advised by the bastions of perspective among the Celtic support to rip it up and start again. If his reign has proved anything, it is that the greatest success in the transfer market has come at the bargain end.

His four premium signings - Thomas Gravesen, Donati, Vennegoor of Hesselink and Brown - have offered questionable value for money. Only Brown seems likely to earn redemption. Gravesen has been the biggest scar on Strachan's transfer policy, while Maciej Zurawski and Jiri Jarosik have hardly been missed.

Nakamura, who cost £2.7m in transfer fee and image rights, has enjoyed a fragrant existence of late. By contrast, Artur Boruc (£650,000) and McDonald (£700,000) have sustained Celtic this far.

The current predicament represents Strachan's greatest challenge yet. It may also prove his final act as Celtic manager. He has been an unqualified success and despite the myopic expectations of Glasgow's football fraternity, his achievements deserve a wider recognition.

A man who has previously known grim adversity at Coventry City is equipped for what lies ahead. The same cannot be said of his faltering squad.