THE Celtic manager Ronny Deila is a truly interesting character. Don’t worry, I’m not going to bore you about footer, if that’s not your thing. I’m going to bore you about something else.

The thing about Deila is that he is genuinely intelligent. You say: “An intelligent football manager? Don’t be absurd. You have drifted into the realms of fantasy here.”

No, I’m perfectly serious. I say that as someone who is on the record with his mates as regarding all football managers as clots. They all do the same daft things: leave their best players on the bench; play players out of position; fail to notice that some players are rubbish until months after the fans have been on to them; and make baffling substitutions far too late in the game.

In Scotland, they are coached at a secret academy in Largs, where they get embossed certificates upon mastering each of the above fan-enraging skills. Deila got his certificate in Norway and is guilty of all these crimes too. In fact, he’s one of the worst for them.

I’m not entirely convinced he understands football (making him the ideal manager). But he understands people. His interviews are well worth reading, particularly if you’re interested in philosophy or epistemology, ken?

Recently, he gave a fascinating and inspiring insight into his management methods. Not only does he have intense one-to-ones with each player, analysing every aspect of their game, but he develops individual plans to improve them.

He has sheaves of statistics about how many sideways passes they’ve made and how many pies they’ve consumed in the past week. At first, the Scottish players in particular were confused, thinking that sideways passes and pie-eating were key components of the game. But Deila exploded: “Nei, tosken (Norwegian for chump)! Fewer sideways passes! Fewer pies!”

More than this, he revealed that he treats each player as if he and they were married. And what is the secret of a good marriage, readers? Correct. Confrontation and bickering.

He bickers with them all, citing in particular his relationship with Celtic’s Israeli star Nir Bitton. It has had the lot: sullen silences, misunderstandings, leaving eggs in each other’s shoes.

As Deila says: “A marriage without confrontation is dead.” Now he and Nir get on famously, though there has been no confirmation in the tabloids of the marriage being consummated.

It’s all fascinating stuff, meaning we can now learn more from the sports pages than the arts or features pages, or even this page with its wise editorials, erudite correspondence and, if I might say so myself, bosky existentialism.

Look out for Ronny Deila, readers. And, remember, he’s probably got a file on you.