SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RANTINGS: CELTIC @ ARKHAM ASYLUM

Sandman

Well-known member
SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RANTINGS: CELTIC @ ARKHAM ASYLUM





"Ah tell yeez, ye can stuff they stars the Tims huv - their
big yin an' any others they hink is goin oan their manky
taps - Ah've just goat ma silver star fur cookin' brownies
- ah fuckin' said 'brownies', no 'Broonies', right? -
in ma anger-management ferapy cookery clesses.
Second-best day o' ma fuckin' life. Right?"

Andy Halliday



"I want you all to loyally bend over, part your buttcheeks,
shut your eyes and open your mouths. I'm not telling you
what I'm going to do, suffice to say you should perhaps
brace yourselves.
Repeat after moi - jam tommorrow, jam tomorrow, jam
tomorrow..."

D King, 'Succor for Suckers' promotional launch




"Yes, one chose to befit him with the monicker, 'Archie'
only because Grandmother quashed my choice of 'James'...
Nothing to do with my real Daddy, no - I wanted to name
him in honour of Jamesy Forrest, Celtic's SPL Player Of
The Year.
However Grandmama sent me an irate telegram declaring,
'You're not calling him after yon fenian bastard,' and
that was that."

Harry, Duke of Sussex







BANE - 6/10

'What the fuck was that?!'
It was the fucking ball, Scott. Zipping past you into the net.
2 minutes in. A moment of incredible bewilderment that encapsulated
the entire Celtic performance.
And so, despite the energising vilification upon which he thrives
assaulting his ears, his day was taken up thwarting the enemy.
After he woke up, he did well, Arsefelt goal aside.



LUSTIG - 3/10

He's Micka. And he's mad. And if he doesn't tune-in in time,
he gifts them a free-kick from which they score and we're on the
back-foot with a team that has downed tools. Uh-oh. Wise to
escape the crime scene at half-tme.
YOU should have been there shoulder to shoulder with Broon, Mick,
demanding a fight.



AJER - 5/10

He's big and he's frustrated - he was a half-yard slow to every
ball and with every thought, culminating in their second goal.
would have bet on big Kris to sniff it and cut it out any day.
Not this one.


JOZO - 6/10

In fairness, he won every ball he needed to. Sadly, there was
nobody capable of taking a pass from him as our midfield engine
broke down.


HAYES - 6/10

Honest trier. Honestly woeful with his final ball. The Celtic
malaise gripped Johnny early and he fought it well. But there
was no final ball to trouble and no real sense he could cause
them problems. Still, he at least looked like he wanted to be
there.



BROON - 8/10 MOTM

The skipper does what the skipper does. He turns up for the battle,
regardless.

Well? Can you argue against the ONLY true Tim on the field?
I've never felt more for him than watching him play his heart
out today and watch those around him HIDE.

Even when Fannygan mistook Broon for his missus, the captain took
an elbow to the face and got up for more.

HE was the one you look to when the chips are down and HE
provided the perfect example of how to handle an adverse
situation like today.

Betrayed by some bottle-merchant teammates.



CALMAC - 3/10

Sorry, wee mhan, but that was PISH. You either want to
compete at Mordor, or you stay home. Half-hearted application.
The metronome became the big bass drum with ridiculous long-balls
- forged a lasting friendship with Fuderingham who fielded more
passes from Calmac than his back four.
LAZY midfield play. Fucking nonsense, and you know it.




ROGIC - 0/10

You got to be kidding us? THE Tom Rogic? THE Aussie magician?
Bodysnatchers inc. did the business on him today. Barely a touch,
hardly a mention, totally ineffectual. Disgrace of a show.
The Antipodean Bushmaster (ladies...) wandered around like a
dehydrated tourist on walkabout.

If there's more to it and he's protecting himself for a summer move
down south take some advice from the Sandman, Tom - fuck. off.



MIKEY J - 4/10

And he looked so sharp early with flashes of skill. And he looked...
eventually so much like December's Mikey J.
Disappointing, BUT - let down by those senoir pros around him to whom
he might have looked for service/help; nah, they didn't give a fuck,
Mikey - hung you out to dry.



BURKE - 3/10

Right yopu are. 14 million? Right you are. Open net? Sclaffed it.
Hustle the Huns? Hardly a challenge. Roved and roamed and resembled
Mongo form Blazing Saddles. Return to sender.



FRENCH EDDY - 6/10

At least he battled and persisted in being a threat. Touch was out
but support was non-existent. One of the loneliest shifts he'll endure -
casting a glance back for a Hooped shirt must have felt like Rick Grimes
trying to spot Carl in a Zombie herd. Chasing his own knocked-on header
mid second-half summed up our continuity.



SUBS:

TOEJAM - 4/10

Not interested. Thinking of life back in Germany. Why he got the replacement
gig ahead of Ralston is anyone's guess. And only one man's reasoning.



SAM JACKSON - N/A

Just what a muthafucka needs- meaningless muthufuckin' gametime against a
bunch of hyped-up, deluded zombies. Muthu-fucka.



SINCY - N/A

Did Sonic get a touch? Can barely recall seeing him.





LENNY - 3/10

Taking the game in isolation - Nope. Piss-poor in many aspects however heavy
your bias. There's obviously dialogue with the team we will never be privvy to,
BUT any Celtic performance of that mediocrity against the Hun begs a few questions.
Most worryingly - only ONE player looked prepared to fight for the jersey - and
for Lenny.

And even in writing that, it dawns by logic that Broon has too much professional
pride to lie down in a similar vein to his comrades, and that his own battling
performance was for selfish purposes.

What a tragic position you managed yourself into, Lenny. Mikey J sacrificed at
the altar of 'Well, maybe this time...', Burke thrown in for theoretical physical
effect - when in reality, he failed to shake up anyone bar a linesman with his
wayward careering play.

There was no hint of the Lennon winning way - that great high-press and tempo
utilised to win our most famous Euro games under him.

Instead, Lenny blots his copybook in the worst way, a first defeat to the Huns.
Midfield surrendered, Rodgers-esque, formation altered with wildcards, lack of
motivation... Just... utterly ineffectual.

Lenny delivered a Celtic performance the equivalent of mooching around a half-empty
shopping mall. Which might have been preferable to watching it.



OVERALL - 2/10

'Welcome to the Stevie G testimonial event, soccer fans. Today's Monkey-fodder will be
the Celts of Glasgow who phoned in their performance sometime around breakfast...'

Schadenfreude Sunday reprised? No. Shameless Celtic regurgitated.

Two out of ten at a struggle. Burke's open-goal miss was our only shot on target. Think
about that - one shot on target for Celtic against the Sevco project.

It's all very well going into the match as champions seeking motivation, up against
a side of excited trophyless Monkeys. When you let those Monkeys dictate play then
decide you cannot be bothered retaliating, you have problems.

From the start they were at us with an unhealthy intensity, uncannily similar to the frenzied
zombies of 28 Days later or World War Z. Like the victims of those movies we were swarmed and
all life quickly extinguished.

We had no tempo, no attitude, no guile, nor customary fleet-footedness. Hardly put
more than half-a-dozen passes together at any time.

We were a shambles. A disgrage to the Hoops. The players - bar Broony - looked like
they couldn't care less. They went through the motions, the support went through dark
emotions.

Clancy could have lightened the load if he had applied the rules properly, but he
revealed himself as another Gollum - spineless in the face of the Hun hordes.
Only a yellow to Fannygan for practicing his marital conflict-resolution on Broon.
A refereeing decision born of utter shitebaggery.

On the other hand...

The contention is that with the title won the game was meaningless. In the bigger
picture, yes. In the microcosm of Mordor, no; They'll get a few thousand more
committed to season tickets on the back of their 'triumph'. More hope to finance
King's mendacity.

Celtic have donated kindly to the Hun cause twice now. Two ignominious defeats.
We can forgive the players nearly everything for achieving their superb EIGHT, but that
effort left nagging doubts about capabilities going forward.

I'd hoped they'd go to Arkham Asylum and dazzle the inmates with gallus football -
make it a Champions showcase. But they went through the motions, couldn't get the game
done quick enough, sent the already deluded Monkeys into a Champions League-winning rapture.

Left the Celtic support with a post-title depression, badly let down the brave 800 who'd
poured through the Hot Gates of Hades.

The Treble Rebel Treble in now a must. We need the elixer of triumph to detox that Filthy
Sunday hangover.

Fingers OOT, Celtic!
 
Last edited:
Witty apt and to the point but and it's a big but some of that team have given me the best moments in my life supporting Celtic
Sure do you think the team wanted to put on a performance like that did they feck.

I can understand those ratings if we were going for 1 but 8 in the bag and going for a triple treble give me that any day of the week

Your entitled to nothing in this life you have to work your arse of for everything nothing gets handed to you on a plate that goes in life and everywhere else these bhoys are entitled to have a bad game without everyone on there backs.

Like I've said We lift the 8th League Trophy on Sunday and the following Week on Saturday at hamdump hopefully we will be lifting the Scottish Cup to make a historic Triple Treble along with the millions all over the world I'll be Celebrating their outstanding efforts for this season,because Champions win leagues over a season and not a game and our bhoys deserve every plaudits going for what they've had to go through this season, they'll get my utmost respect gratitude and I'll support them through the good and bad because of there attitude to win games is all we've known for 8 Seasons hopefully the can keep those winning mentality going forever especially for the ten but we are Celtic supporter's faithful through and through over and over we will follow you.

Celtic a club open to all respected revered all over the world CELTIC YOU'LL NEVER WALK ALONE HAIL HAIL COYBIG CHAMPIONS AGAIN DON'T YOU KNOW IT
 
Mongo form Blazing Saddles. Return to sender.

There's an old joke that I don't remember completely but to paraphrase it, a gorilla is brought to a golf course because he can drive a golf ball 300 yards. The group he is playing with is astonished to find that when the gorilla tees off, his ball goes right to the green and lands two feet from the hole. When they get to the green, the gorilla steps up to the ball and drives it another 300 yards away from the hole.

There's more to the joke, probably, but Oliver Burke reminds me of that joke. He's got speed, but his touches leave much to be desired.

I've been trying to give Burke the benefit of the doubt for awhile now, but I think he needs to go.
 
Can't argue with the ratings although think Johnstone was on the generous side this was a mismatch from the start nothing was learned from the last game there the same mistakes repeated regardless of having won the League the team should be showing some sort of cohesion and fight instead of trying to avoid taking a pass and hiding
 
Can't get enough of this Sandman. Love it, wait for it. Keep it up!!

BROON - 8/10 MOTM

Spot on assessment. What he lacked was cover and men around him. Only McGregor gave him something

CALMAC - 3/10

Not having that, he didn't hide for a second. He may not have the fight or the physical attributes for it, but he never hid. His bravery comes from taking the ball and offering himself. he did that. You still need an outlet, he didn't get it bit 3/10, You must have had him as first scorer;).

For me these two deserve to be absolved of blame.

In fact the defensive 6 is all that stopped it being a hiding!

**By the way the Ralston comment. Well said. **

HH(y)
 
Can't get enough of this Sandman. Love it, wait for it. Keep it up!!

BROON - 8/10 MOTM

Spot on assessment. What he lacked was cover and men around him. Only McGregor gave him something

CALMAC - 3/10

Not having that, he didn't hide for a second. He may not have the fight or the physical attributes for it, but he never hid. His bravery comes from taking the ball and offering himself. he did that. You still need an outlet, he didn't get it bit 3/10, You must have had him as first scorer;).

For me these two deserve to be absolved of blame.

In fact the defensive 6 is all that stopped it being a hiding!

**By the way the Ralston comment. Well said. **

HH(y)



Had Calmac and Rogic both to score anytime - 70/1.

Perhaps I was a bit harsh on them...:unsure:;)
 
what hurts me more than anything is the fact that during the week all we heard was that we were going to get them back for the defeat at the bigotdome in december well if that was the way to go about it yesterday the some serious questions need to be asked about or team and their mental attitude to yesterdays game more so the fact that we are making those diddies over there look good
 
SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RANTINGS: CELTIC @ ARKHAM ASYLUM





"Ah tell yeez, ye can stuff they stars the Tims huv - their
big yin an' any others they hink is goin oan their manky
taps - Ah've just goat ma silver star fur cookin' brownies
- ah fuckin' said 'brownies', no 'Broonies', right? -
in ma anger-management ferapy cookery clesses.
Second-best day o' ma fuckin' life. Right?"

Andy Halliday



"I want you all to loyally bend over, part your buttcheeks,
shut your eyes and open your mouths. I'm not telling you
what I'm going to do, suffice to say you should perhaps
brace yourselves.
Repeat after moi - jam tommorrow, jam tomorrow, jam
tomorrow..."

D King, 'Succor for Suckers' promotional launch




"Yes, one chose to befit him with the monicker, 'Archie'
only because Grandmother quashed my choice of 'James'...
Nothing to do with my real Daddy, no - I wanted to name
him in honour of Jamesy Forrest, Celtic's SPL Player Of
The Year.
However Grandmama sent me an irate telegram declaring,
'You're not calling him after yon fenian bastard,' and
that was that."

Harry, Duke of Sussex







BANE - 6/10

'What the fuck was that?!'
It was the fucking ball, Scott. Zipping past you into the net.
2 minutes in. A moment of incredible bewilderment that encapsulated
the entire Celtic performance.
And so, despite the energising vilification upon which he thrives
assaulting his ears, his day was taken up thwarting the enemy.
After he woke up, he did well, Arsefelt goal aside.



LUSTIG - 3/10

He's Micka. And he's mad. And if he doesn't tune-in in time,
he gifts them a free-kick from which they score and we're on the
back-foot with a team that has downed tools. Uh-oh. Wise to
escape the crime scene at half-tme.
YOU should have been there shoulder to shoulder with Broon, Mick,
demanding a fight.



AJER - 5/10

He's big and he's frustrated - he was a half-yard slow to every
ball and with every thought, culminating in their second goal.
would have bet on big Kris to sniff it and cut it out any day.
Not this one.


JOZO - 6/10

In fairness, he won every ball he needed to. Sadly, there was
nobody capable of taking a pass from him as our midfield engine
broke down.


HAYES - 6/10

Honest trier. Honestly woeful with his final ball. The Celtic
malaise gripped Johnny early and he fought it well. But there
was no final ball to trouble and no real sense he could cause
them problems. Still, he at least looked like he wanted to be
there.



BROON - 8/10 MOTM

The skipper does what the skipper does. He turns up for the battle,
regardless.

Well? Can you argue against the ONLY true Tim on the field?
I've never felt more for him than watching him play his heart
out today and watch those around him HIDE.

Even when Fannygan mistook Broon for his missus, the captain took
an elbow to the face and got up for more.

HE was the one you look to when the chips are down and HE
provided the perfect example of how to handle an adverse
situation like today.

Betrayed by some bottle-merchant teammates.



CALMAC - 3/10

Sorry, wee mhan, but that was PISH. You either want to
compete at Mordor, or you stay home. Half-hearted application.
The metronome became the big bass drum with ridiculous long-balls
- forged a lasting friendship with Fuderingham who fielded more
passes from Calmac than his back four.
LAZY midfield play. Fucking nonsense, and you know it.




ROGIC - 0/10

You got to be kidding us? THE Tom Rogic? THE Aussie magician?
Bodysnatchers inc. did the business on him today. Barely a touch,
hardly a mention, totally ineffectual. Disgrace of a show.
The Antipodean Bushmaster (ladies...) wandered around like a
dehydrated tourist on walkabout.

If there's more to it and he's protecting himself for a summer move
down south take some advice from the Sandman, Tom - fuck. off.



MIKEY J - 4/10

And he looked so sharp early with flashes of skill. And he looked...
eventually so much like December's Mikey J.
Disappointing, BUT - let down by those senoir pros around him to whom
he might have looked for service/help; nah, they didn't give a fuck,
Mikey - hung you out to dry.



BURKE - 3/10

Right yopu are. 14 million? Right you are. Open net? Sclaffed it.
Hustle the Huns? Hardly a challenge. Roved and roamed and resembled
Mongo form Blazing Saddles. Return to sender.



FRENCH EDDY - 6/10

At least he battled and persisted in being a threat. Touch was out
but support was non-existent. One of the loneliest shifts he'll endure -
casting a glance back for a Hooped shirt must have felt like Rick Grimes
trying to spot Carl in a Zombie herd. Chasing his own knocked-on header
mid second-half summed up our continuity.



SUBS:

TOEJAM - 4/10

Not interested. Thinking of life back in Germany. Why he got the replacement
gig ahead of Ralston is anyone's guess. And only one man's reasoning.



SAM JACKSON - N/A

Just what a muthafucka needs- meaningless muthufuckin' gametime against a
bunch of hyped-up, deluded zombies. Muthu-fucka.



SINCY - N/A

Did Sonic get a touch? Can barely recall seeing him.





LENNY - 3/10

Taking the game in isolation - Nope. Piss-poor in many aspects however heavy
your bias. There's obviously dialogue with the team we will never be privvy to,
BUT any Celtic performance of that mediocrity against the Hun begs a few questions.
Most worryingly - only ONE player looked prepared to fight for the jersey - and
for Lenny.

And even in writing that, it dawns by logic that Broon has too much professional
pride to lie down in a similar vein to his comrades, and that his own battling
performance was for selfish purposes.

What a tragic position you managed yourself into, Lenny. Mikey J sacrificed at
the altar of 'Well, maybe this time...', Burke thrown in for theoretical physical
effect - when in reality, he failed to shake up anyone bar a linesman with his
wayward careering play.

There was no hint of the Lennon winning way - that great high-press and tempo
utilised to win our most famous Euro games under him.

Instead, Lenny blots his copybook in the worst way, a first defeat to the Huns.
Midfield surrendered, Rodgers-esque, formation altered with wildcards, lack of
motivation... Just... utterly ineffectual.

Lenny delivered a Celtic performance the equivalent of mooching around a half-empty
shopping mall. Which might have been preferable to watching it.



OVERALL - 2/10

'Welcome to the Stevie G testimonial event, soccer fans. Today's Monkey-fodder will be
the Celts of Glasgow who phoned in their performance sometime around breakfast...'

Schadenfreude Sunday reprised? No. Shameless Celtic regurgitated.

Two out of ten at a struggle. Burke's open-goal miss was our only shot on target. Think
about that - one shot on target for Celtic against the Sevco project.

It's all very well going into the match as champions seeking motivation, up against
a side of excited trophyless Monkeys. When you let those Monkeys dictate play then
decide you cannot be bothered retaliating, you have problems.

From the start they were at us with an unhealthy intensity, uncannily similar to the frenzied
zombies of 28 Days later or World War Z. Like the victims of those movies we were swarmed and
all life quickly extinguished.

We had no tempo, no attitude, no guile, nor customary fleet-footedness. Hardly put
more than half-a-dozen passes together at any time.

We were a shambles. A disgrage to the Hoops. The players - bar Broony - looked like
they couldn't care less. They went through the motions, the support went through dark
emotions.

Clancy could have lightened the load if he had applied the rules properly, but he
revealed himself as another Gollum - spineless in the face of the Hun hordes.
Only a yellow to Fannygan for practicing his marital conflict-resolution on Broon.
A refereeing decision born of utter shitebaggery.

On the other hand...

The contention is that with the title won the game was meaningless. In the bigger
picture, yes. In the microcosm of Mordor, no; They'll get a few thousand more
committed to season tickets on the back of their 'triumph'. More hope to finance
King's mendacity.

Celtic have donated kindly to the Hun cause twice now. Two ignominious defeats.
We can forgive the players nearly everything for achieving their superb EIGHT, but that
effort left nagging doubts about capabilities going forward.

I'd hoped they'd go to Arkham Asylum and dazzle the inmates with gallus football -
make it a Champions showcase. But they went through the motions, couldn't get the game
done quick enough, sent the already deluded Monkeys into a Champions League-winning rapture.

Left the Celtic support with a post-title depression, badly let down the brave 800 who'd
poured through the Hot Gates of Hades.

The Treble Rebel Treble in now a must. We need the elixer of triumph to detox that Filthy
Sunday hangover.

Fingers OOT, Celtic!
Broony a 6 at best,seen 10 year old weans pass the ball better ?
 
SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RANTINGS: CELTIC @ ARKHAM ASYLUM





"Ah tell yeez, ye can stuff they stars the Tims huv - their
big yin an' any others they hink is goin oan their manky
taps - Ah've just goat ma silver star fur cookin' brownies
- ah fuckin' said 'brownies', no 'Broonies', right? -
in ma anger-management ferapy cookery clesses.
Second-best day o' ma fuckin' life. Right?"

Andy Halliday



"I want you all to loyally bend over, part your buttcheeks,
shut your eyes and open your mouths. I'm not telling you
what I'm going to do, suffice to say you should perhaps
brace yourselves.
Repeat after moi - jam tommorrow, jam tomorrow, jam
tomorrow..."

D King, 'Succor for Suckers' promotional launch




"Yes, one chose to befit him with the monicker, 'Archie'
only because Grandmother quashed my choice of 'James'...
Nothing to do with my real Daddy, no - I wanted to name
him in honour of Jamesy Forrest, Celtic's SPL Player Of
The Year.
However Grandmama sent me an irate telegram declaring,
'You're not calling him after yon fenian bastard,' and
that was that."

Harry, Duke of Sussex







BANE - 6/10

'What the fuck was that?!'
It was the fucking ball, Scott. Zipping past you into the net.
2 minutes in. A moment of incredible bewilderment that encapsulated
the entire Celtic performance.
And so, despite the energising vilification upon which he thrives
assaulting his ears, his day was taken up thwarting the enemy.
After he woke up, he did well, Arsefelt goal aside.



LUSTIG - 3/10

He's Micka. And he's mad. And if he doesn't tune-in in time,
he gifts them a free-kick from which they score and we're on the
back-foot with a team that has downed tools. Uh-oh. Wise to
escape the crime scene at half-tme.
YOU should have been there shoulder to shoulder with Broon, Mick,
demanding a fight.



AJER - 5/10

He's big and he's frustrated - he was a half-yard slow to every
ball and with every thought, culminating in their second goal.
would have bet on big Kris to sniff it and cut it out any day.
Not this one.


JOZO - 6/10

In fairness, he won every ball he needed to. Sadly, there was
nobody capable of taking a pass from him as our midfield engine
broke down.


HAYES - 6/10

Honest trier. Honestly woeful with his final ball. The Celtic
malaise gripped Johnny early and he fought it well. But there
was no final ball to trouble and no real sense he could cause
them problems. Still, he at least looked like he wanted to be
there.



BROON - 8/10 MOTM

The skipper does what the skipper does. He turns up for the battle,
regardless.

Well? Can you argue against the ONLY true Tim on the field?
I've never felt more for him than watching him play his heart
out today and watch those around him HIDE.

Even when Fannygan mistook Broon for his missus, the captain took
an elbow to the face and got up for more.

HE was the one you look to when the chips are down and HE
provided the perfect example of how to handle an adverse
situation like today.

Betrayed by some bottle-merchant teammates.



CALMAC - 3/10

Sorry, wee mhan, but that was PISH. You either want to
compete at Mordor, or you stay home. Half-hearted application.
The metronome became the big bass drum with ridiculous long-balls
- forged a lasting friendship with Fuderingham who fielded more
passes from Calmac than his back four.
LAZY midfield play. Fucking nonsense, and you know it.




ROGIC - 0/10

You got to be kidding us? THE Tom Rogic? THE Aussie magician?
Bodysnatchers inc. did the business on him today. Barely a touch,
hardly a mention, totally ineffectual. Disgrace of a show.
The Antipodean Bushmaster (ladies...) wandered around like a
dehydrated tourist on walkabout.

If there's more to it and he's protecting himself for a summer move
down south take some advice from the Sandman, Tom - fuck. off.



MIKEY J - 4/10

And he looked so sharp early with flashes of skill. And he looked...
eventually so much like December's Mikey J.
Disappointing, BUT - let down by those senoir pros around him to whom
he might have looked for service/help; nah, they didn't give a fuck,
Mikey - hung you out to dry.



BURKE - 3/10

Right yopu are. 14 million? Right you are. Open net? Sclaffed it.
Hustle the Huns? Hardly a challenge. Roved and roamed and resembled
Mongo form Blazing Saddles. Return to sender.



FRENCH EDDY - 6/10

At least he battled and persisted in being a threat. Touch was out
but support was non-existent. One of the loneliest shifts he'll endure -
casting a glance back for a Hooped shirt must have felt like Rick Grimes
trying to spot Carl in a Zombie herd. Chasing his own knocked-on header
mid second-half summed up our continuity.



SUBS:

TOEJAM - 4/10

Not interested. Thinking of life back in Germany. Why he got the replacement
gig ahead of Ralston is anyone's guess. And only one man's reasoning.



SAM JACKSON - N/A

Just what a muthafucka needs- meaningless muthufuckin' gametime against a
bunch of hyped-up, deluded zombies. Muthu-fucka.



SINCY - N/A

Did Sonic get a touch? Can barely recall seeing him.





LENNY - 3/10

Taking the game in isolation - Nope. Piss-poor in many aspects however heavy
your bias. There's obviously dialogue with the team we will never be privvy to,
BUT any Celtic performance of that mediocrity against the Hun begs a few questions.
Most worryingly - only ONE player looked prepared to fight for the jersey - and
for Lenny.

And even in writing that, it dawns by logic that Broon has too much professional
pride to lie down in a similar vein to his comrades, and that his own battling
performance was for selfish purposes.

What a tragic position you managed yourself into, Lenny. Mikey J sacrificed at
the altar of 'Well, maybe this time...', Burke thrown in for theoretical physical
effect - when in reality, he failed to shake up anyone bar a linesman with his
wayward careering play.

There was no hint of the Lennon winning way - that great high-press and tempo
utilised to win our most famous Euro games under him.

Instead, Lenny blots his copybook in the worst way, a first defeat to the Huns.
Midfield surrendered, Rodgers-esque, formation altered with wildcards, lack of
motivation... Just... utterly ineffectual.

Lenny delivered a Celtic performance the equivalent of mooching around a half-empty
shopping mall. Which might have been preferable to watching it.



OVERALL - 2/10

'Welcome to the Stevie G testimonial event, soccer fans. Today's Monkey-fodder will be
the Celts of Glasgow who phoned in their performance sometime around breakfast...'

Schadenfreude Sunday reprised? No. Shameless Celtic regurgitated.

Two out of ten at a struggle. Burke's open-goal miss was our only shot on target. Think
about that - one shot on target for Celtic against the Sevco project.

It's all very well going into the match as champions seeking motivation, up against
a side of excited trophyless Monkeys. When you let those Monkeys dictate play then
decide you cannot be bothered retaliating, you have problems.

From the start they were at us with an unhealthy intensity, uncannily similar to the frenzied
zombies of 28 Days later or World War Z. Like the victims of those movies we were swarmed and
all life quickly extinguished.

We had no tempo, no attitude, no guile, nor customary fleet-footedness. Hardly put
more than half-a-dozen passes together at any time.

We were a shambles. A disgrage to the Hoops. The players - bar Broony - looked like
they couldn't care less. They went through the motions, the support went through dark
emotions.

Clancy could have lightened the load if he had applied the rules properly, but he
revealed himself as another Gollum - spineless in the face of the Hun hordes.
Only a yellow to Fannygan for practicing his marital conflict-resolution on Broon.
A refereeing decision born of utter shitebaggery.

On the other hand...

The contention is that with the title won the game was meaningless. In the bigger
picture, yes. In the microcosm of Mordor, no; They'll get a few thousand more
committed to season tickets on the back of their 'triumph'. More hope to finance
King's mendacity.

Celtic have donated kindly to the Hun cause twice now. Two ignominious defeats.
We can forgive the players nearly everything for achieving their superb EIGHT, but that
effort left nagging doubts about capabilities going forward.

I'd hoped they'd go to Arkham Asylum and dazzle the inmates with gallus football -
make it a Champions showcase. But they went through the motions, couldn't get the game
done quick enough, sent the already deluded Monkeys into a Champions League-winning rapture.

Left the Celtic support with a post-title depression, badly let down the brave 800 who'd
poured through the Hot Gates of Hades.

The Treble Rebel Treble in now a must. We need the elixer of triumph to detox that Filthy
Sunday hangover.

Fingers OOT, Celtic!

God love you, Sandman, but that was a wonderfully accurate critique. ?
 

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