SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RANTINGS: CELTIC V DRACULA'S XI Cl Qualifying Round 3, 2nd leg.

Sandman

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SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RANTINGS: CELTIC V DRACULA'S XI Cl Qualifying Round 3, 2nd leg.



"He's always, scoring goals
His name is French Eddy
He's always, scoring goals
His name is French Eddy

I wanna, I wanna
I wanna be Edouard
I wanna, I wanna
I wanna be Edouard"


Stone Roses, 'I want To Be Edouard'.



"3-2, Wahoo! Look at you!
3-4? Shut the fucking door..."

Hoopy The Huddle Hound Childrens' Nursery Rhyme Hour, Celtic TV.




BANE - 3/10

Spooked! Thought he was channeling Van Helsing, turns out it was Shaggy
from Scooby Doo. No chance with the first. Second? GRASP the ball, TAKE
the boot, GET the free-kick.
Instead, he let's it slip, flopped to the deck, rolled the dice. Pussy. Expecting
the fuckwit ref to grant a foul. Nope. Corner, and penalty thanks to Captain
Calamity.
Their killer third? Shot bounces in front of him, having plenty time to see it
coming, dollys it straight to Kanye West who slams it in and kills us. Nope.
Disaster.
Big Craig the Cat watching on - shakes his head, mutters, 'Yup.'
Gloves still fit?


AJER - 6/10

Big Ironside. Ragin but unbowed. Applied himself best he could, rattled a few,
ultimately caught no-man's for some of their goals. Unlucky not to score himself.
Handled the chaos well, which grants him a pass for keeping it disciplined enough
at the back.


JOZO - 5.5/10

Another just-about success who did his job. Given time to recover from injury - which
turned out to be a cunning ruse so that he could cultivate a Mikey J tribute bouffant.
Some splendid interceptions. But also seemed to get lost in the ridiculous Keystone
Cops ending when he should have been cracking heids and dictating the defensive script.


HAT ATTACK - 6/10

Mossad genetic experiment working well at right back, almost eclipsing Swedish
legend's memory. Undeserved booking early on did not quell his enthusiasm or
composure. A good prospect, who was gutted as you or I at the final whistle.


BROON - 3/10

Really? From vampire slayer to gormless henchman. Just when the evil dead
were on their backs and the hammer poised to plunge the stake into their collective
hearts, and condemn them to Hades - or the Europa - our most experienced player,
Captain, leader, collossus - who'd battled Celtic back into glory - decides he's Talita
Antunes, Brazilian beach volleyball babe and inexplicably - even beyond the Huns
still being in existence - SLAPS at a deep corner.
Penalty.
But wait, the noose is slackened, the rope snaps as Corpus saves his soul, and he
knows it. And he revels in it. For ten minutes, until somebody turns the shotgun back
on our clown shoes and Captain Marvel again becomes Captain Muppet.
F.u.c.k.i.n.g Crazy. One word, Broony - WHIT?



CALMAC - 5/10

Left back? Eh? Thought the line-up had him in the midfield with time to pick
killer passes all game long. But no, suddenly we're channelling Rodgers at Mordor
and he's excruciatingly ineffective at left-back.
And even then, he's not at it, not sharp, not causing damage. Blunt. Punt?
Too late, Brendan.


SAM JACKSON - 7/10

And the path of the righteous Muthufucka is besest on all sides by Muthufuckas
muthufuckin' things up just when the Muthufucka with the muthufuckin guile is
on his game, spinnin', swingin' , dictatin' the muthufuckin game... And, WOW
MUTHUFUCKAS - the Muthufuckas all around is blowin' the gig!
This Muthufucka ain't hangin' around for doomsday no more. THIS Muthufucka
is GONE, baby - another Euro game muthufuckin muthufucked by muthufuckin
lunacy is another muthufuckin' game too muthufuckin' many for a cat concerned
with high-level muthufuckery.
Looked at Broony's penalty gift like, 'What the muthufuckin' muthufuck, Muthufucka?'
Muthufucka lost to us muthufuckas now, and all-in you got to assess the Muthufucka's
claims of inferior performance levels after that muthufuckin shambles as absolute
muthufuckin AYE, muthufuckas.


FORREST - 6.5/10

Flash, ahh-ah! We've used that one before, and seen this Jamesy performance before
- terrorising then anonymous; exhilarating then frustrating. Brilliant goal - heart-pumping
dithering before an exquisite finish. Then...
Not able to kill them off. Toying with their panic; inviting them to sigh with relief when
he should have been throttling them into submission. Ultimately, head-shaking remorse
at full-time and zippers up.


CORPUS CHRISTIE - 8/10 MOTM

Forces of evil ready to thwart him, the Son Of Man dazzled vampires all evening. Even
when the sunlight had faded he tormented them with his movement and impact, all but
condemning them to defeat with our - perceived - killer third. No blame upon this Child
Of The Light as team-mates let him down badly in the face of ancient darkness.



MIKEY J - 4/10

He joined the Lost Boys this evening. An 80s retro bouffant is no match for a troop of
soulless warriors from a land beyond Godless. He flattered to deceive, raised so many
expectations he began to resemble a viral pic of a candid Kelly Brook shower scene
from Weird Science. Couldn't find a killer ball never mind a wooden stake. Shooting
silver bullets all night.


EDOUARD - 7/10

Everyone wants to be him and he's adored. And he WAS adored, almost to Charlie Manson
levels until calamity. Swept home the almost-winner ragged and tagged them all game,
took the punishment, exemplified a striker on his game crying out form mor esupport and
better service. Mysteriously subbed when we were chasing GOALS. Eh? EH?



SUBS:

GRIFF - 5/10

ONE sniff, ONE great moment to make him a legend and he fluffed it; unlucky but... Well,
that header was just not glanced enough to finish them. On for that particular second, it
agonisingly slipped away.



MORGAN FREEMAN JR. - 3/10

His Dad can execute a great cameo, the bhoy cannot. Why we saw him instead of Griff
first is aquestion lost in despair. Running out of lines to impress us with.


BAYO - N/A

Thrown on, never serviced, hardly a touch, no impact. still can't tell whether we got a
Son Of A Gun or Son Of A Bitch.



LENNONY - 4/10

Sucker. Listened to the fans. Played to the moaners. Dropped the men he paid big
money for. Now he'll suffer. The knives will be out and he's got only himself to blame.
WHERE was the LENNONY Euro-tempo that is Celtic's signature in great Euro victories
under his directorship?
Instead, he gave a re-shuffled team an entire half to get used to new positioning before
we could get our act together. STICK to the winning formula. It was almost beyond us,
then we salvaged a glorious victory in true Lennony battling style...
Only to completely fuck it up. Big mhen let a big mhan down. He'll carry the can for the
idiocy of trusted servants. His peculiar Rodgers-esque set-up was all but forgotten until
that late-game insanity.
However, the drama queens and the perma-hindsight-supersayers will slaughter him.
Ultimately, your tactics let them turn it into a basketball game, Lennony, and Celtic paid the
price for it.


OVERALL - 5/10

Bollocks. Brilliant! Bollocks. Brilliant x 2! Bollocks x fucking WHIT?!?
Nuts. Fucking NUTS. The NBA came to town and the Glasgow Celtics faced off against
the Cludgie Fucktards. Aided and abetted by the screwball umpire and his 1970s approach
to rules application the Cludgie Fucktards sensationalised the Romanian empire by screwing
the Celts for 4 to 3 and orgasmatroning Dan the Man Petri-dish into Vampire Valhalla.

Ultimatley the Celts Of old Glesgae Town refused to cold-blooodedly murder the Transylvanian
wildlings even as they lay prone before their scintillating enterprise awaiting euthanization.
Instead, the gregarious Bhoys form the auld East End turned their shotgun upon themselves!
BAM! BAM-fucking-BAM!

And those most giving of Hooped heroes struck a blow for empathetic souls everywhere by
sacrificing their own glory for the bemused but happy Romanian bloodsuckers to wallow in,
and gleeful Huns to rejoice.

Tales will be told, memories passed down through generations of inbred Transylvanian families
of the night ancient dark arts triumphed in the glory of Paradise. Of how the children of the
righteous lay down their weapons of skill and guile TWICE and somehow facilitated the hideous
thrashing commitment of a generally inferior side ripe for a PUMPING to somehow WIN against
the odds.

Great proclamations of joy will be heralded in the surroundings of Castle Alucard and the
gloom of valleys beyond as villages celebrate temporary reprieve from the sacrifice of virgins.
Meanwhile, across the world of mhen, there will be rumination and lamenting as fingers close
upon empty palms where visons of glory once materialised yet slipped away under deep frowns
ofutter bewilderment. And the mhen and ghirls will pose the eternal question of their fallen
warriors and masters of the Tim universe while Zadok The Priest heralds glory in places beyond
their palace of worship:
What. The. Actual. Fuck. Happened?
 
This is a post I hoped I'd never have to make.
After I 'done one' some months ago when NL was appointed full time there has been some encouraging performances. We seemed to be cruising the pre-qualifiers and the opener against st Johnstone were enough to make me wish i could eat my words. Far too hasty I said to myself. Alas I was wrong about being wrong. WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED LAST NIGHT? How do you snatch defeat from the jaws of victory 3 fucking times? CALMAC at left back? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? WE were all over the place at times last night. OK so we know the players are being allowed more freedom since BR left but last night showed we need SOME DISCIPLINE. FUCK SAKE BROONY, WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?
All my worse fears came together last night about NL, we are well and truly fucked, forget 9 iar forget 10 too, we're fucked, big time. Oh an we're fucked at mordor too.
 
CL Deja Vu. First half Rabbits in the headlights. Defence farcical, midfield non existent. Second half much better but our suicide streak undone the great work and goals done. Until that is fixed then this is our reality.

How much longer can we think buying cheap, buying bad, will work out?

Now the players mentioned the other day who would improve the defence is gone, as it always seems to be because we waited too long to get them in. Now they will tell us we can’t afford them because we failed to get them in to secure the CL. That type of thinking if you cut it in half would reveal the word failure.
 
CL Deja Vu. First half Rabbits in the headlights. Defence farcical, midfield non existent. Second half much better but our suicide streak undone the great work and goals done. Until that is fixed then this is our reality.

How much longer can we think buying cheap, buying bad, will work out?

Now the players mentioned the other day who would improve the defence is gone, as it always seems to be because we waited too long to get them in. Now they will tell us we can’t afford them because we failed to get them in to secure the CL. That type of thinking if you cut it in half would reveal the word failure.
Or even worse buying players you dont trust to get you qualified then showing the world you dont think they're good enough by leaving them on the bench. THATs fucked up thinking.
 

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