There’s a need to tread carefully around matters of such a delicate nature. Especially at this time of year, when there are youngsters around and all sorts of sensitive souls. Like fans of Rangers and Celtic.

But, even so, eventually there comes a point in time when it can’t go left unsaid any longer. So whisper this gently, the truth of the matter is there is no such thing as a title race. It simply does not exist. It never did.

Maybe in some fantastical parallel universe where fat men in red suits hand out presents for free - but not here in the cold reality of Scottish football’s back garden. And certainly not this Christmas time, never mind moving forward into the New Year.

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Forget what happened in Motherwell yesterday where Rangers saw Celtic’s mini-wobble and raised it into a full scale sphincteric collapse. In truth this latest woeful, error strewn capitulation of two more top flight points was inconsequential before it had even kicked off.

After a brief period of intrigue, the sanity clause came to town in Paisley on Boxing Day to re-establish some perspective and seasonal reality. And it’s reduced the Ibrox outfit to a quivering wreck of a team all over again.

Those back-to-back performances represent a microcosm of their season so far - full of unfathomable selections and lacking in intensity and aggression. Yes, they mounted desperate second half salvage missions but, even when Rangers looked capable of dragging themselves out of a hole, they were really only flattering to deceive.

Instead, they did what they always do under Philippe Clement. They bottled it when it seemed like a full recovery was theirs for the taking. All of which sums Clement’s Rangers up in a nutshell. Even when they get things right they have forgotten how to go about finishing off the job. There is no ruthlessness about them these days.

On the contrary, they have become accustomed to accepting near misses and spinning stories about what could have been. It feels almost as if this entire club is now conditioned into settling for making a decent fist of things. For a while at least.

But, eventually, it always ends the same way - with another trophy dressed up in green and white ribbons - because Brendan Rodgers hasn’t just built himself a better, more talented squad on the other side of the city. He’s created a mentality monster.

And so, rather than give the game in this country the gift of a meaningful tussle at the top, the festive fixtures have effectively taken away any lingering hope Clement may have harboured with regards to a prosperous and successful 2025.

It’s gone now. Before the old one has even ended. And the consequence of this latest surrender comes in the shape of mounting levels of pressure and the re-emergence of the suspicion that he’s never really been cut out for this particular combat zone in any case.

Yes, OK, at this point it’s probably an appropriate time for a bit of a mea culpa, A hands up, if you prefer. On these very pages only a week ago a question was posed and the idea was floated by some dafty that the destination of this season’s top flight title might have been declared a bit too early.

The argument - as flawed as it turned out to be - was based around a noticeable drop off in Celtic’s peak levels coupled with a sudden resurgence in Rangers’ form and fortunes. Even if this upturn had come around more by accident than design, Clement had finally found a formation and way of playing which made his team a completely different proposition from the one which had been previously plodding its way towards the midway mark of another largely joyless campaign.

But the re-emergence of players such as Ianis Hagi and Nico Raskin and the decision to relegate Cyriel Dessers down the pecking order while giving Hamza Igamane and Danilo a chance to lead the line, did make it appear as if Clement was on the right track. And who knows? Maybe he was.

But he’s tossed it all away again. The trouble with this Rangers side and its manager is that, the moment they get close enough to see the white of Celtic’s eyes, they tend to collapse like a pack of cheap festive greetings cards.

It happened earlier this month at Hampden in the Premier Sports Cup Final when they left the national stadium clutching onto their losers’ medals and another hard luck story.

And then, just when Celtic left the door ajar by dropping points at Tannadice, they folded all over again. Of course they did. In retrospect it was stupid to expect them to do anything else.

By way of defence, there were a few caveats attached to the notion that a genuine title race might light up the second half of the season. And chief among them was a need for Rangers to take nine points from nine over three games during the festivities.

They fell flat on their faces at the first hurdle and headed to Fir Park yesterday feeling bruised and trailing even further behind their rivals at the top of the table than they had been one week earlier. And they left another two behind.

Of course, the response was typically feeble but the result and performance was already meaningless. Exactly the same rule will apply at Ibrox on Thursday when Celtic come across the Clyde as first footers to welcome in a new year as well as write the next chapter of the same old story.

It won’t matter if Rangers do manage to muster up a win now that the pressure is off, which would be just like them. It’s a great deal more likely, however, that Celtic will find a way of removing whatever miniscule margin of doubt remains by chalking up another derby day win or, at the very least, avoiding defeat against Clement’s side for a seventh successive time.

All options are open for the time being but, whatever the final outcome, the case for Rangers going the distance can be considered officially closed. It’s too late even for the man with the sack to save them now.