The nods to absent friends at Celtic Park were both subtle and stark throughout.

A single steward strolled through a deserted section of the ground just seconds before kick-off, the echo of You’ll Never Walk Alone providing an ironic soundtrack to what was to be a testing night for those who were in attendance for this third round Champions League qualifier.

As he continued on his patrol of nothingness in the north east corner, a crackle of applause flickered just above the chorus of a 95 per cent full Parkhead, standing as one in the wake of their club’s decision to ban the Green Brigade from the ground on the back of last week’s final straw against Linfield. Unsafe behaviour at the match with the Northern Irish and in last season’s finale against Hearts forced Celtic into writing to 900 supporters to explain they would not get their chance to see their team hopefully take one step further to Champions League qualification.

In the early stages, they were not missed. Within a minute that crackle burst into a rapid and crushing crescendo, the sight of the team in green and white going into a huddle enough to turn it up to 11. Less than 60 seconds into the game the chant of ‘Here we go again’ provided a wall of noise for a Celtic team, with their own notables absentees – but more on that later – who were looking to pick up where they left off against Linfield last week.

As the night progressed the mood changed as the voice of the 55,000-odd spoke of a collective brought together in frustration and angst rather than anything else. Indeed, the lack of a positively-charged atmosphere spoke more about the two men missing from the park than the 900 on the naughty step.

Without the strike force of Leigh Griffiths or Moussa Dembele the Scottish champions looked blunt in attack. With the former suspended and the latter out potentially until September with a hamstring problem, the throats of those attempting to fill the void in the stand did a better job than the players trying to turn themselves into a makeshift striker. Tom Rogic is never a forward and never looked like one here. While more than capable of coming up with a moment of magic from range or coaxing a piece of individual brilliance from his proverbial locker, the Australian looked like a kangaroo out of the bush here. Continually dropping too deep, any time Celtic got the ball wide with a bit of space – which wasn’t that often – against an organised and decent Rosenborg outfit, often the likes of Mikael Lustig and Kieran Tierney were forced to turn back inside with not a green and white jersey in the box.

It didn’t go unnoticed.

Goalkeeper Andre Hansen hardly had a save to make as referee Tiago Bruno Lopes Martins brought the game into half-time. A rumble of murmurings and modest applause greeted his whistle. Mr Hansen wasn’t that much busier in the second half, either.

In the middle of the Glasgow holidays, this was the Celtic supports’ summer's night of discontent. Around the hour mark a roar of panic boomed out as captain Scott Brown’s short back pass put former Arsenal forward Nicklas Bendtner in behind. When the cavalry eventually arrived and the ball squeezed through to Yann-Erik de Lanlay from a Milan Jevtovic through ball, the forward blasted over, the gasps of the Jock Stein Stand punters swallowing up the ball as it almost sailed into the top tier. Bendtner’s curled shot moments later into the arms of Gordon was treated with equal contempt from the antsy crowd.

On 63 minutes, the Celtic support tried their best to lift their team. Here we go again once again provided the back drop, this time for the introduction of Jonny Hayes in the hope he could add more directness in the final third. Four minutes later, those inside their ground didn’t miss their cue to pay tribute to their heroes of Lisbon, even if they did kick it off 17 seconds late.

Yet, it took until 70 minutes before they were finally given proper cause to get off their feet. James Forrest for once got a break of the ball and as he twisted and turned on the edge of the Rosenborg box, but Celtic Park exhaled as his low finish crept just wide.

Brendan Rodgers received the final whistle with his hands together, patrolling the park in front of emptying stands, acknowledging those in attendance on a troublesome night.

It wouldn’t take long before his attention will again turn to who, if anyone, he can welcome back for next week’s return in Norway.