There are none so blind as those who will not see.

Some of the fury that has been vented this week by Celtic fans in the aftermath of Brendan Rodgers’ decision to go to Leicester ultimately comes down to an element of self-loathing.

It’s not so much that Rodgers might have hammed up his Celtic-supporting credentials to sell the “one of you” idea, but that it was bought hook, line and sinker. Rodgers’ ambitions were hidden entirely in plain sight.

Upon being paraded at Celtic Park in front of an adoring public back in June 2016, Rodgers acknowledged that he had never been at a game in Glasgow. Pressed later on when he took Celtic into the group stages of the Champions League at the first time of asking, he had no memory of the recent night when Neil Lennon’s team had beaten Barcelona, a result that is arguably the highest profile of any in recent years.

Ronny Deila made people cringe when he embarked upon his fist-pumping “Ronny roar” at Celtic but in some regards the manner in which Rodgers celebrated his own credentials to ingratiate himself to the support might seem altogether more toe-curling over time.

Asked at his inaugural press conference on the day he arrived at the club if there were similarities between Liverpool and Celtic, Rodgers gushed: “There are parallels, but this is different. This is family. This is blood. This is Gallagher, Johnstone, McGrain…”

The underlying feeling this week was that he had gotten into bed with the other Johnston.

Yet, there was more than a hint this summer that Rogers would not be at Celtic for a fabled 10. Indeed, there was not a working journalist who dealt with the 46-year-old on a regular basis who felt he would be there beyond the summer. But any suggestion that Rodgers had eyes on a move elsewhere was met with an onslaught of accusations about trying to unsettle him or agitate him out of the club.

Even on Monday night when news was breaking that Leicester had made their move and Rodgers wanted it, there was a bitter deluge of angry finger-pointing that the story was made-up nonsense with little substance to it.

Such was the unanimous collective that stood at the back of Rodgers, an unwavering belief that he had eyes for no-one and nothing but Celtic.

That it turned so swiftly on its head owed hugely to the timing of his midnight flit, which seemed like a two-fingers-up to the club given the precarious nature of the season. Rodgers would have become the first manager in world football to win a treble Treble. Celtic can still become the first club to achieve such a feat but, by putting it in jeopardy, he incurred a furious backlash.

But while recriminations were inevitable, the bilious clip that did the rounds on social media on Thursday morning began to make those emotions look ridiculous. If you wish to assume the moral high ground, singing about a man dying in his sleep is generally not the way to do it.

Fergus McCann was booed once as he unfurled a league championship flag that had stopped Rangers winning their 10.

He was a booed in a stadium

he had built and in front of a club

he had entirely remodelled. It

took a decade for an appreciation

to sink in about what he had done for Celtic.

So perhaps Rodgers was right when he said that he might return after the furore dies down – in 10 years or so.

But, ultimately, while Rodgers has done the dirty on Celtic for the timing and manner in which he turned his back on them, what he achieved at the club has to be recognised in the cold light of day.

Seven trophies out of seven is not to be sniffed at. That Tom Rogic

goal against a dramatic peel of lightning at Hampden to clinch an Invincible Treble will live long in the memory of many supporters.

The technicolour pictures of an open-top bus parade celebrating a double Treble in glorious sunshine might be dulled with the dark

mood at his exit but if a thing of beauty is indeed beautiful forever then it should remain Celtic’s memory to cherish.

But, as Neil Lennon settles himself into the Celtic dugout for

a second stint, he might feel like

he’s being measured up against his Perfect Cousin.

Where Rodgers donned the tailored suits and soft Italian shoes for game day, Lennon will pull on the trackies and the trainers as he goes for a more organic approach.

Where there were so few unguarded moments with Rodgers

– and a splaying of the fingers to signal 10 to the Celtic support

was one of the very rare days he allowed himself to get carried away

– every moment with Lennon is an unguarded one.

Snuff in his pocket and heart on his sleeve.

Rodgers was pristine in presentation, trackside decorum and exuded unflustered composure at all times.

It is not the letting go of the emotion with Lennon but the keeping it in.