Attacking Football
·26 May 2025
The Shock of Gibraltar: Celtic’s Defeat to Lincoln Red Imps

In partnership with
Yahoo sportsAttacking Football
·26 May 2025
Some defeats are painful. Some are humiliating. And then there is The Shock of Gibraltar. Where Celtic’s 1–0 loss to the Lincoln Red Imps in July 2016, a result so bizarre it’s still muttered about with a mix of disbelief and wincing humour across pubs in Glasgow. It wasn’t just a loss for Celtic; it was a moment that jolted Scottish football and, for a few dizzy hours, made a bunch of semi-professional part-timers from Gibraltar headline material across Europe. Celtic had not seen a result like this in all it’s time as a professional club.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was Brendan Rodgers’ first competitive game in charge of Celtic. The club had just handed him the reins after Ronny Deila’s time in charge had faded into mediocrity. Rodgers had pedigree, coming off the back of a near-miss Premier League title tilt with Liverpool. The expectation was clear: to guide Celtic back into the Champions League group stage. What unfolded in Gibraltar was anything but part of that script.
Before the match, most people outside of UEFA coefficient obsessives had barely heard of Lincoln Red Imps. They were champions of the Gibraltar Premier Division, a league only added to UEFA competitions in 2013. Their home ground, the Victoria Stadium, sits in the shadow of the Rock of Gibraltar, holds about 2,000 fans, and has an artificial surface more suited to five-a-sides.
Their squad was made up of policemen, customs officers, and part-timers. Their striker, Lee Casciaro, who scored the winner that night, was a 34-year-old policeman by day. Eight players for Lincoln Red Imps were full internationals for the Gibraltar national football team. Lee Casciaro, who started and scored against Celtic, also scored Gibraltar’s first ever competitive goal in a 6–1 loss against Scotland at Hampden Park in March 2015. On paper, the contest lacked fairness. It was a modern-day version of David versus Goliath.
But football sometimes isn’t concerned about the script.
It was a warm July evening when Celtic trotted out onto the artificial turf. Rodgers had named a side featuring the likes of Craig Gordon, Erik Sviatchenko, Kieran Tierney, Nir Bitton, and Moussa Dembélé, who had just arrived from Fulham. There was a blend of youth and experience, but none of it mattered after kick-off.
The eighth minute marked a catastrophe. The team failed to handle a simple ball over the top effectively. Casciaro took advantage of a slip from Efe Ambrose, who had endured his fair share of horror shows in Europe, and slotted it past Gordon. 1–0 to the Red Imps. Cue the stunned silence, followed by the predictable social media meltdown.
Celtic huffed and puffed but couldn’t blow the house down. Leigh Griffiths hit the bar. They had 70% of the ball. It didn’t matter. The Red Imps held firm with the kind of gritty, dogged determination you usually find on Sunday league pitches in the rain.
At full time, the scoreline read Lincoln Red Imps 1–0 Celtic. A result that sent shockwaves through Scottish football and handed headline writers across Europe a gift.
The immediate reaction was brutal. Brendan Rodgers stood solemnly in front of the cameras, trying to stay calm while journalists threw every synonym for “embarrassment” at him. “We stay calm. We need a performance next week,” he said, which felt like the understatement of the decade.
For fans, it was anger mixed with gallows humour. Memes flooded Twitter. Rival supporters couldn’t believe their luck. Even Rangers fans, then freshly promoted back to the Premiership, took a short break from their own chaos to enjoy Celtic’s misery.
“Brendan Rodgers has only managed one competitive game at Celtic. Yet he has already produced the worst result in the club’s 128-year history. I always said he’d make an instant impact.”
The press called it one of the worst results in the club’s history. And it was. Not because of the scoreline, but because of what it symbolised—a mighty Scottish institution humbled by a team most had never heard of.
“Celtic’s reputation has taken a battering. One of their worst results ever? I would say it’s the worst result ever. This has probably superseded anything that has gone before. It is that bad for the club, it’s that bad for this team and I think Brendan Rodgers realises the size of the task he now has here. Liam McLeod, BBC Scotland commentator
What’s odd is that this catastrophe arguably laid the groundwork for Celtic’s dominance under Rodgers in Scotland. In the return leg at Celtic Park, they swept Lincoln aside 3–0. It was comfortable, businesslike, and more in line with what everyone expected.
From that point, Celtic didn’t just bounce back, they steamrolled the domestic scene. Rodgers’ side went on to complete an unbeaten treble in his first season. They won every domestic trophy for two years. The ‘Invincibles’ tag became part of the folklore. But it all started with that humiliation in Gibraltar.
Rodgers would later say that the Red Imps defeat may have set expectations for the system he would play at Celtic. It probably did more than that. It embarrassed egos. It exposed complacency. And it reminded the club that reputation means nothing when you’re walking onto someone else’s pitch in mid-July.
“So if the game is needing the patience then I am sure the Celtic supporters will support the team.”
Every underdog story needs a hero, and Casciaro played the role to perfection. Already a local legend, his goal made him a national one. He’d scored Gibraltar’s first ever competitive goal back in 2015 against Scotland, funnily enough. But this was different. This was a scalp, the kind players dream of when they lace up their boots on Tuesday nights after work.
“It’s what people dream about since they are a young kid playing in Gibraltar – beating a big club like Celtic. Scoring the winning goal is something I will remember for the rest of my life. I scored for Gibraltar against Scotland but we lost 6-1. Today, we won, and it’s a major achievement for a small club like Lincoln and the whole of Gibraltar. This is like a hobby for us. We have a couple of professionals from Spain and a few locals. We train daily around two hours but combine it with the other things we do at the moment. “It is surreal and we’ve done it today.”
His reaction summed it up. This wasn’t just a goal for Lee; it was the pinnacle of a long career built on part-time football and full-time graft. For Casciaro, it was a once-in-a-lifetime moment. For Gibraltar, it was a statement that they could compete, however briefly, with Europe’s elite.
Nearly a decade on, Celtic fans still mention Lincoln Red Imps with a grimace. This is not due to any long-term damage to the club, it did not suffer in that way, but rather because it exposed a truth that Celtic fans would prefer to forget. No team, no matter how decorated, is immune to being outworked and outfought on the wrong night.
European qualifiers are always awkward. The timing is poor, squads are incomplete, fitness is patchy, and motivation can waver. But excuses aside, this was a defeat that lives on not just because of the result but because of the symbolism. Celtic, a former European champion, undone by a team whose name sounded like it belonged to a local darts league.
It was a wake-up call and a dose of humility. And while Rodgers’ tenure would eventually bring success, his very first steps were stumbles, right there on the artificial grass under the Rock of Gibraltar.
Celtic’s loss to Lincoln Red Imps isn’t remembered because it derailed a season. It didn’t. It’s remembered because it highlighted how the smallest cracks in preparation, respect, or effort can turn a Champions League qualifier into a comedy of errors.
That night in Gibraltar will always be one of those weird football stories. One you tell your mates about, half-laughing, half-cringing. And maybe, somewhere in a pub in Gibraltar, someone’s still buying Lee Casciaro a pint.