I don't think that the majority of those who attended the event actually understood the purpose of a candlelight vigil and I see similar traits here.
A candlelight vigil is an outdoor assembly of people carrying candles, held after sunset. Such events are typically held either to protest the suffering of some marginalized group of people, or in memory of lives lost.
It's by no means only for mourning the death of a dear one although it is also appropriate in that event.
Essentially, it's a period of reflection and preparation in advance of a significant moment, challenge or ordeal. For example, many candlelight vigils were held by the American Civil Rights Movement immediately prior to the 1963 March on Washington which culminated in Martin Luther King's famous "I have a dream" speech.
Last night there were a few dozen people in meditative mood, holding candles and standing silently against the outer walls of the stadium or around the periphery of the crowd.
Their hopes of observing a period of quiet reflection were dashed from the outset by another group who positioned themselves around the Brother Walfrid statue, hoisted their flags and bellowed out songs from the match day repertoire. Whether they did this because of a misunderstanding of what a candlelight vigil is about or whether they were serving their own egos is not something that I wish to make a call on. Only they themselves can answer that for sure. But they did nobody any favours by chanting songs such as "If you hate the fucking Rangers, clap your hands."
I arrived at about quarter past ten and left just before eleven so I didn't see any of the egg-throwing antics or the arrival of a Hunmobile. But I was by no means the first to leave. I got the distinct impression that many had turned up expecting to participate in a more thoughtful and solemn gathering and left soon after they realised that they had inadvertently stumbled into what sounded like a Green Brigade soundcheck.
Of course, there is most certainly a time and a place for enthusiastically singing and making a loud noise in support of Neil Lennon and the 18th minute at Rugby Park on Wednesday was one such example - a superb one at that. Such expressions of solidarity are valuable and meaningful.
There is also room for another type of support altogether. There are many people who may never have been to a football match in their lives and who never intend to watch one. Nevertheless, some of them think that the attempted murder of Neil Lennon (and Paul McBride and Trish Godman) is a much bigger issue and something that they are prepared to stand up and be counted over.
Some of these people may be religious observers who would like to observe their Easter services without fearing for their lives if Glasgow explodes into violence this Sunday.
Others may be entirely secular folks whose plans for an enjoyable holiday weekend did not originally include survival courses.
It's not even beyond the realms of possibility that there are protestant Rangers supporters who might feel moved to make a gesture of solidarity over this crisis in the recognition that it's gone much too far. (Surprisingly, perhaps, I could point to at least three Orange Order members in my area who are of that mindset.)
A properly observed candlelight vigil is exactly the kind of event which could draw people such as these, along with some of the more reflective Celtic supporters, into an hour or two of peaceful contemplation in a common cause. Still waters run deep and much of the deepest outrage at the treatment being directed at prominent Celtic supporters and/or Catholics will come form people who will never even consider climbing onto a statue of Brother Walfrid to "do the Broony."
There's no need for, and no advantage in, alienating these people by turning a silent vigil into a matchday experience without the football.
The vigil was not intended to be about winning the league or getting it up the SFA or taunting the Huns; it was about standing up for individuals who have been targeted by murderous criminals.
Believe it or not, there are a lot of people who don't support Celtic or even give a damn about football itself but are still prepared to sit up and take notice when a worldwide news story is centred on their own doorstep.
It's a pity that it was hijacked and it will be even more of a pity if nobody learns that there are many ways of getting behind the targets of anti-Catholic terrorism in Scotland other than marginalising those who wish to demonstrate their sympathy in a more non-confrontational style.