On a grey day the star shone bright at the top of the Celtic Way. Hail Cesar read the words on either side of it. Slowly, they will remove the flags and bin the decaying flowers but it was difficult not to draw an impression of the indelible nature of what was left behind as Billy McNeill’s funeral cortege stopped outside the stadium yesterday.

It drew applause from those who had gathered at Celtic Park, just as it did as it passed by George Square and stopped the traffic in the middle of the city. The University of Glasgow flag flew at half mast for their honorary graduate.

There was an Aberdeen scarf among the Celtic Park mourners, a nod to the foundations that McNeill laid at Pittodrie before the glory years that followed.

But on a day when football’s glitterati packed into St Aloysius’ church in Gartnethill with Sir Alex Ferguson, Martin O’Neill and Brendan Rodgers among the mourners, what McNeill brought to Celtic was there not in the showbiz element in attendance at the requiem mass but those who put their lives on hold for an hour to gather on the street.

A stateman’s funeral with all the pomp and ceremony that brings, the real story of McNeill was there in the thousands who were moved enough to pay their quiet respects on a dreich and chilly afternoon.

A presence at the club from early adulthood until his final years, there are few others who will again command the same level of reverence that McNeill did.

Celtic could win their 107th major trophy this afternoon at Pittodrie. McNeill was there as either player or manager for 31 of those. Even now, decades after he walked out of the dugout and eons since he left the dressing room, such figures account for almost a third of the success that Celtic enjoyed. Six decades of his life were woven through the fabric of Celtic’s story.

For the longest time there was a feeling within Celtic Park – significantly before the current board’s arrival – that the Lisbon Lions had become little more than an embarrassing sideshow.

O’Neill was the first manager to arrive as an outsider and actively look to bring them back to the table. One of O’Neill’s first acts back in 2000 was to take the Lions out for a meal, indicative of how he felt they should be placed at the club.

It was a message that was received beyond O’Neill’s pay grade.

These days the first impression of Celtic is a colossal statue of McNeill at the foot of the Celtic Way. The iconic, defining moment of Celtic’s history in his hands as he stands, forever frozen in time, with the European Cup aloft, outwards, facing it to the eyes of the world beyond.

It is a snapshot of an image that will endure and resonate forever in Celtic’s history regardless of what chapters are still to follow.

Quite what the past weeks mean for Celtic is difficult to pinpoint.

If McNeill’s easy authority made him the leader of the pride and captain of the greatest side that Scottish football is likely to see, Stevie Chalmers by contrast was the understated, quiet scorer of the most important goal in the club’s history.

Like McNeill and like Bertie Auld and John Clark and John Hughes, what goes before these guys is not only the gifts they delivered in terms of silverware, prestige and pride but in the common decency with which they live day-to-day lives. Throw a dart into yesterday’s crowd outside Celtic Park and people have a tale to tell, such as the one that circulated this week on social media from

Rangers supporter Donald McCrorie and what Chalmers did for his uncle.

It made the decision by a small minority – tiny in numbers in the grand scheme of things – at Ibrox and Tynecastle last week to turn their backs on a celebration of McNeill’s life all the more baffling.

McNeill’s affection for John Greig was genuine. The respect was authentic from men who increasingly seem symptomatic of another time and not just because of what they achieved in the grand pantheon of European football.

Back in their time, there was a natural mingling and socialising of Old Firm players. One can only wonder what the likes of Walter Smith, Greig and Willie Henderson, all in attendance yesterday afternoon, would have made of it as some chose not to respect the celebrations.

For most of us such tribal rivalries seem absurd at such times.

AND ANOTHER THING

This week both Neil Lennon and Scott Brown seemed to open the door to the possibility of a Brendan Rodgers’ redemption.

Lennon spoke of his wish to get over the line today for Rodgers while Brown’s use of the word “genius” to describe his former manager was notable. There remains a simmering anger among supporters about the manner in which Rodgers jumped ship for Leicester with the club on course for a domestic treble but, amid the rancour, it is only fair to remember what he brought to Celtic.

The night news broke of Rodgers’ imminent exit, Celtic fans on social media were queuing up to spit accusations at journalists claiming their was a campaign to unsettle the club with gratuitous stories, maintaining even then that the man they thought could walk on water would not walk out of the door.

But if Celtic go on to win a treble treble this season, it would be impossible to downplay the contribution made by Rodgers. For many of us, his departure to England was inevitable back in the summer of discontent last year as he publicly diminished his board and laid clear his frustrations at pivotal points in Celtic’s season.

But Brown was right to give Rodgers his place. His goodbye felt like a midnight flit as he raced back to England but part of the anger comes from the messianic hold he had on the Celtic support.

It might take time but his role in the club should eventually give rise to some sort of gracious goodbye.