IT was the season when Paddy McCourt's Celtic career should finally have taken off.

Instead, it became the year in which it finally fizzled out.

The challenge of competing in the Champions League, in tandem with defending the SPL championship and trying to grab the domestic treble without Rangers breathing down their necks, appeared ready-made for a two-tier – if not two-team – approach by manager Neil Lennon.

Surely, the mercurial McCourt could find a regular place in one of them, whether it be trying to provide a moment of magic in a tough European tie or entertaining the fans with his vast repertoire of skills in games against domestic opposition?

Alas, no.

And, as the Northern Irishman talks to Birmingham City and clubs as far afield as the United States in search of the next staging post in a career which, sadly, seems destined to wind down largely unfulfilled, the full analysis of why he did not realise his potential in the Hoops can begin.

Undoubtedly, there was a huge wish for McCourt to succeed at Parkhead, simply because he was a one-off, the type who can brighten up the dullest match.

Leading the fan club was Lennon, who tried everything in his expanding managerial book to find a way to incorporate the Derry Pele and his penchant for scoring spectacular goals into his side.

Indeed, Lennon was the man who persuaded McCourt to hang around the club as long as he did, and to reject attempts by Blackpool to take him south.

Even as recently as January, when the chance to move to Vancouver Whitecaps was mooted, McCourt was encouraged to sit tight in the hope he might be able to make a late case for having his contract at Parkhead renewed.

But the stats show his chances did not improve.

Throughout the entire season, McCourt made only four starts, all in the SPL, the final one coming on the last day of the campaign when he waved farewell to the appreciative Paradise crowd.

In total, he added 20 appearances, including a late run-out in the Scottish Cup final, to take his tally during five seasons as a Celt to just 88.

In that time, he did enough to collect two championship medals, which at least fulfilled his ambition not to allow his Parkhead career to end without being able to claim he was a winner.

But within the detail of this success lies the real story.

Last year, when the Hoops reclaimed the title for the first time in four years, all 13 of his appearances in the league were from the bench, and this despite becoming a regular starter at international level.

The expectation was raised at the start of season 2012-13 since the championship was not going to be as tight as it had been in previous years.

Thus, a bit of wiggle room, in terms of team selection, should have been possible.

More than that, Lennon knew he would have to utilise his squad as the demands of playing midweek in Europe had to be offset by resting key players at the weekends.

The stage appeared set for McCourt to finally strut his stuff on a regular basis.

So, what went wrong? Why, with a new contract on the line, was it another season of cameos from the 29-year-old?

Is it the case that there is no room for pure entertainers in the Scottish game?

Or is McCourt just a unique character destined to come up short at this level as his talent is overwhelmed by his lack of fitness?

Certainly from the first day he pitched up at Lennoxtown to begin training with his new team-mates the portents were not good.

As the rest of the squad lapped the training pitches, McCourt was soon struggling half a circuit behind.

His physical condition led the then manager, Gordon Strachan, to infamously say a few months later when detailing which players he had available: "Then there's Paddy, but he doesn't count."

Indeed, it took McCourt five months to develop the fitness required to make his debut.

As he tried to push himself on, the toll on his body told, and a succession of niggly injuries began to bite.

So often it was a case of one step towards a starting place in the team then two steps back to the treatment room.

Strachan, then Tony Mowbray and most recently Lennon have all appreciated McCourt's talent, and have tried to accommodate him in their teams.

But, ultimately, all came to the conclusion his best role was as an impact sub. And, as McCourt said himself: "I don't get brought on when things are going well."

The best example of how he could turn a game came at Fir Park in November 2011.

Drawing 1-1 in a match Celtic had to win to prevent Rangers extending their 15-point lead, and Motherwell taking second spot in the table, McCourt came off the bench with 13 minutes left to set up Anthony Stokes, who passed for Gary Hooper to score the winner.

McCourt's calmness on the ball and precision with his pass epitomised the man every bit as much as his lack of core fitness.

Throw in an audacious ability to weave past opponents, then despatch a shot into the net, and the reason for the cult following becomes clear.

The fans sang: 'If you sell McCourt, you will have a riot on your hands'.

Well, Celtic have neatly avoided any such insurrection by allowing the fans' favourite to run down his contract.

McCourt has gone, but the question remains: why did his popularity far outweigh his contribution?