Sandman
Well-known member
SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC @ HUNS OF MIDLOTHIAN
"Better to be occasionally cheated than perpetually
suspicious."
- B.C. Forbes.
ROXIE - 6/10
Highlight of the day - calling Shankland a 'shitebag'
for not taking their penalty. Probably because even
a Hun like him couldn't believe it was given...
And for all their overloading, Joe still didn't
have that much to do; sad to say even our stalwart
couldn't exert influence over the couple of depressing
scenarios that ruined the day.
GREGGS THE BAKER - 6/10
He made his Celtic name here with a matchwinning
performance under Ange during another VAR debacle.
Not the worst today, firing in useful crosses that
deserved better, and demanding more of his
compatriots.
WAYNE GRETZKY - 6/10
If disbelief had a face, The Moose was it today as
penalties were conjoured out of the ether, and he
was halted upteen times by unbookable Hun collaborators.
Unbookable until the last 5 minutes, that is; surprise,
surprise...
Like, Greggs, one of the more determined of our ten
men.
OF JUSTICE - 4/10
Liam, damnit - looked back on his game with some
sterling interceptions but the physical flaws remained
- not robust enough, or - fatally - sharp enough to
make it to the loose ball at their second.
GET CARTER - 5/10
Appeared ready for a battle, then appeared still a
little rusty from his lay off as build-up play was
laboured and he carried an air of unease when pressure
was on. Couple of games more, he'll be back to necessary
decisive defending, and perhaps nail another of those
headed chances he really should have banged in today.
TONIO IWATAO - 4/10
Of them all, he was the one missing Calmac's steadying
influence the most. As we've come to expect, his break-up
play was valuable but on the ball he dithered - once
which proved almost suicidal, reprieved by offside.
Fine, useful DM he is, but playmaker he's not.
As it was, he also somehow ended up perpetrator of
another game-defining moment - penalised under the
new backward-unseen-elbowball 'rule'; A travesty of
a decision #2.
SAINT BERNARDO - 3/10
Absent after the red. Had looked effectively rangy
beforehand, like a drugged Bambi prone to spontaneous
outbursts of fleet-footedness. Sacrificed for the
greater goodness-knows-what.
THE BUILDER - 4/10
Ach, Matty was the key to any ten man heroics. But
wonderful as he's been, he's maybe a season or two
from being a dominant midfield matchwinner. One day
he'll take a situation like this by the baws and
dictate and carve up Hunnic sycophants like them,
but not today as he toiled to cultivate anything
troublesome.
LORD KATSUMOTO - 4/10
With great promise comes a great second-half fade.
Daizen may have scored had the ball not gotten
slightly stuck on his new velcro-heid before dunting
over; a smooth bonce would have skimmed that in.
But with Kyogo on the park my expectation was
that between him and Matty, the service would
set up the wee man for heroics. Nope.
DUNCAN IDAHO - 3/10
Well, on moments such as those do titles pivot.
Just bang it in and we'll go crush them...
Then it became just bang something in and get us
into the game...
And so the new superhero loses his cape and with
it, our grip on the title. Not the Messiah today,
just a naughty bhoy.
YING - N/A
You don't need to speak Korean to understand
the universal expression of 'what the fuck?'
And any watching Koreans would have been introduced
to the uniquely Scottish refereeing concept of
red-carding accidental high boots attempting to
perform a fancy flick, just because Mr.C from
The Shamen stuck his stupid wee peroxided heid
into the studs.
A travesty of a decision #1.
SUBS -
KILLER MUSHROOM - 6.5/10 MOTM
Enter the Dragon, and enter the one mhan who
looked like making a difference. Sick of a system
depriving him of service he set about creating
his own fun and but for the curse of the Gorgie
Witch (Wee Anne Budgerigar) would have given
us a goal or two and some hope.
The formula is simple for a dozen more games -
fucking play him. Feed him: win the league, and
probably the cup.
NED KELLY - N/A
Welcome to mission impossible, kid. Blooded by
Robertshun with a yellow as a rite of passage.
THE SHNAKE - 5/10
"And lo he shall step forth from the shadow of
loss and speak the name of thy demon.."
Named and shamed and fair play for that one.
Call them out and string 'em up, I say; like Rhett
Butler might have said - it's about time we cleaned
up the (back)woods...
With any luck the simps in suits will have him
on a charge and he'll get to damn them as a matter
of public record.
What's not looking good is his football record;
regardless of today's incredible bias, back-to-back
goalless defeats to this rabble of impostor Huns
looks miserable.
The Buck Rodgers system does not lend itself to
recovering from a personnel deficit; there's no
Plan B, just monotonous Plan A minus a component,
that results in aimless, impotent keep-ball when
we need to be playing brave zip-ball and throwing
some caution to the chilling breeze in search of
a title. Check, check, check...
The clock is ticking; a countdown on many
things, methinks...
MIBBERY - 9/10
Many won't agree but I'm going to offer a rational
objective take on the incredulous officiating - Beaton's
a filthy Hun dog and Robertson's his compliant bitch...
The instinctive assessment is that both these servile
wretches forelock-tug in synch, perhaps draw straws
for which end of the goat they take...
But no, truth is that Beaton's the new Dallas, pulling
seniority and Don's anything but a Don - merely a
compliant tool climbing the ladder. An absolute tool.
Beaton, though - if it was ever in doubt - is saturated
in inbred verminous trampitude to the core.
Begrudgingly gave Don our penalty moment, seized
upon his gallus elation at the miss to invoke some of
the more ludicrous interpretations of reality we've
ever seen plague the Hoops' fortunes.
At one point Timothy Leary shook his head, hissed
'Woooww, fuck that, I'm out, mannn...' and left the
ground.
So we really just know what we've always known.
And events of Saturday merely inspired the revelations
of Sunday; yet somehow it kind of takes you by surprise,
so focussed on the Hoops' performance you become.
But this is Scotland, remember, it's very hilly and
so there's no such thing as a level playing field,
Timothy...
OVERALL - 4/10
What a difference a week makes. And Hearts have
had a good one according to Shankland - 4 points
out of 9 he smiled, the sleekit five-heid Ayrshire
Hun prick.
After their favourite team got pumped by a side
wearing sashes it appeared the entire section of
Edinburgh that can't afford the train tickets
through to Mordor were pumped for our visit.
And their players certainly responded to the
atmosphere of unhealthy excitement resonating
around their pish-stained music-festival
portakabin of a 'stadium'.
So much so that the same maroon goons buggered
by 5 in Glasgow last week were firing around like
badgers on Adderol, at us in a consistent frenzy as
if they'd been mainlining heroin up their arses in
the dressing room.
But our reponse was far too muted. And the void
of Calmac's absence far too expansive to fill.
We lacked guidance and purpose. Where was the
ruthless focus of champions?
Tempo was an abstract concept and, despite the
injustices plainly thrown in our faces, there's
been more collective aggression on Songs Of Praise
than we managed to muster; "Page 177, psalm 43,
ya cunts!".
And what could have been a beautiful schadenfreude
Sunday turns out to be a classic Scottish Hunday
as officials pin their colours (orange; like you
thought something else?) to the stake and set a
fire to torch the fenians.
Which meant we had to suffer the crowning indignity
of an escaped chernobyl rat with alopecia from
radiation poisoning, empathise with sneering
insincerity about his team's good fortune from
scurrilous officiating.
Good grief. Where do we go from here? Well, I know
where I went - right to the cinema to see 'Dune
Part 2' to escape the torment. And finally caught
a 10/10 performance; In an outrageously great
cinematic experience about a would-be saviour who
overthrows an evil and corrupt empire. And don't
we just need our own Paul Atreides? Right. Fucking.
Now.
Who will deliver us from evil?
Hmm...
Go Away Now
Sandman
"Better to be occasionally cheated than perpetually
suspicious."
- B.C. Forbes.
ROXIE - 6/10
Highlight of the day - calling Shankland a 'shitebag'
for not taking their penalty. Probably because even
a Hun like him couldn't believe it was given...
And for all their overloading, Joe still didn't
have that much to do; sad to say even our stalwart
couldn't exert influence over the couple of depressing
scenarios that ruined the day.
GREGGS THE BAKER - 6/10
He made his Celtic name here with a matchwinning
performance under Ange during another VAR debacle.
Not the worst today, firing in useful crosses that
deserved better, and demanding more of his
compatriots.
WAYNE GRETZKY - 6/10
If disbelief had a face, The Moose was it today as
penalties were conjoured out of the ether, and he
was halted upteen times by unbookable Hun collaborators.
Unbookable until the last 5 minutes, that is; surprise,
surprise...
Like, Greggs, one of the more determined of our ten
men.
OF JUSTICE - 4/10
Liam, damnit - looked back on his game with some
sterling interceptions but the physical flaws remained
- not robust enough, or - fatally - sharp enough to
make it to the loose ball at their second.
GET CARTER - 5/10
Appeared ready for a battle, then appeared still a
little rusty from his lay off as build-up play was
laboured and he carried an air of unease when pressure
was on. Couple of games more, he'll be back to necessary
decisive defending, and perhaps nail another of those
headed chances he really should have banged in today.
TONIO IWATAO - 4/10
Of them all, he was the one missing Calmac's steadying
influence the most. As we've come to expect, his break-up
play was valuable but on the ball he dithered - once
which proved almost suicidal, reprieved by offside.
Fine, useful DM he is, but playmaker he's not.
As it was, he also somehow ended up perpetrator of
another game-defining moment - penalised under the
new backward-unseen-elbowball 'rule'; A travesty of
a decision #2.
SAINT BERNARDO - 3/10
Absent after the red. Had looked effectively rangy
beforehand, like a drugged Bambi prone to spontaneous
outbursts of fleet-footedness. Sacrificed for the
greater goodness-knows-what.
THE BUILDER - 4/10
Ach, Matty was the key to any ten man heroics. But
wonderful as he's been, he's maybe a season or two
from being a dominant midfield matchwinner. One day
he'll take a situation like this by the baws and
dictate and carve up Hunnic sycophants like them,
but not today as he toiled to cultivate anything
troublesome.
LORD KATSUMOTO - 4/10
With great promise comes a great second-half fade.
Daizen may have scored had the ball not gotten
slightly stuck on his new velcro-heid before dunting
over; a smooth bonce would have skimmed that in.
But with Kyogo on the park my expectation was
that between him and Matty, the service would
set up the wee man for heroics. Nope.
DUNCAN IDAHO - 3/10
Well, on moments such as those do titles pivot.
Just bang it in and we'll go crush them...
Then it became just bang something in and get us
into the game...
And so the new superhero loses his cape and with
it, our grip on the title. Not the Messiah today,
just a naughty bhoy.
YING - N/A
You don't need to speak Korean to understand
the universal expression of 'what the fuck?'
And any watching Koreans would have been introduced
to the uniquely Scottish refereeing concept of
red-carding accidental high boots attempting to
perform a fancy flick, just because Mr.C from
The Shamen stuck his stupid wee peroxided heid
into the studs.
A travesty of a decision #1.
SUBS -
KILLER MUSHROOM - 6.5/10 MOTM
Enter the Dragon, and enter the one mhan who
looked like making a difference. Sick of a system
depriving him of service he set about creating
his own fun and but for the curse of the Gorgie
Witch (Wee Anne Budgerigar) would have given
us a goal or two and some hope.
The formula is simple for a dozen more games -
fucking play him. Feed him: win the league, and
probably the cup.
NED KELLY - N/A
Welcome to mission impossible, kid. Blooded by
Robertshun with a yellow as a rite of passage.
THE SHNAKE - 5/10
"And lo he shall step forth from the shadow of
loss and speak the name of thy demon.."
Named and shamed and fair play for that one.
Call them out and string 'em up, I say; like Rhett
Butler might have said - it's about time we cleaned
up the (back)woods...
With any luck the simps in suits will have him
on a charge and he'll get to damn them as a matter
of public record.
What's not looking good is his football record;
regardless of today's incredible bias, back-to-back
goalless defeats to this rabble of impostor Huns
looks miserable.
The Buck Rodgers system does not lend itself to
recovering from a personnel deficit; there's no
Plan B, just monotonous Plan A minus a component,
that results in aimless, impotent keep-ball when
we need to be playing brave zip-ball and throwing
some caution to the chilling breeze in search of
a title. Check, check, check...
The clock is ticking; a countdown on many
things, methinks...
MIBBERY - 9/10
Many won't agree but I'm going to offer a rational
objective take on the incredulous officiating - Beaton's
a filthy Hun dog and Robertson's his compliant bitch...
The instinctive assessment is that both these servile
wretches forelock-tug in synch, perhaps draw straws
for which end of the goat they take...
But no, truth is that Beaton's the new Dallas, pulling
seniority and Don's anything but a Don - merely a
compliant tool climbing the ladder. An absolute tool.
Beaton, though - if it was ever in doubt - is saturated
in inbred verminous trampitude to the core.
Begrudgingly gave Don our penalty moment, seized
upon his gallus elation at the miss to invoke some of
the more ludicrous interpretations of reality we've
ever seen plague the Hoops' fortunes.
At one point Timothy Leary shook his head, hissed
'Woooww, fuck that, I'm out, mannn...' and left the
ground.
So we really just know what we've always known.
And events of Saturday merely inspired the revelations
of Sunday; yet somehow it kind of takes you by surprise,
so focussed on the Hoops' performance you become.
But this is Scotland, remember, it's very hilly and
so there's no such thing as a level playing field,
Timothy...
OVERALL - 4/10
What a difference a week makes. And Hearts have
had a good one according to Shankland - 4 points
out of 9 he smiled, the sleekit five-heid Ayrshire
Hun prick.
After their favourite team got pumped by a side
wearing sashes it appeared the entire section of
Edinburgh that can't afford the train tickets
through to Mordor were pumped for our visit.
And their players certainly responded to the
atmosphere of unhealthy excitement resonating
around their pish-stained music-festival
portakabin of a 'stadium'.
So much so that the same maroon goons buggered
by 5 in Glasgow last week were firing around like
badgers on Adderol, at us in a consistent frenzy as
if they'd been mainlining heroin up their arses in
the dressing room.
But our reponse was far too muted. And the void
of Calmac's absence far too expansive to fill.
We lacked guidance and purpose. Where was the
ruthless focus of champions?
Tempo was an abstract concept and, despite the
injustices plainly thrown in our faces, there's
been more collective aggression on Songs Of Praise
than we managed to muster; "Page 177, psalm 43,
ya cunts!".
And what could have been a beautiful schadenfreude
Sunday turns out to be a classic Scottish Hunday
as officials pin their colours (orange; like you
thought something else?) to the stake and set a
fire to torch the fenians.
Which meant we had to suffer the crowning indignity
of an escaped chernobyl rat with alopecia from
radiation poisoning, empathise with sneering
insincerity about his team's good fortune from
scurrilous officiating.
Good grief. Where do we go from here? Well, I know
where I went - right to the cinema to see 'Dune
Part 2' to escape the torment. And finally caught
a 10/10 performance; In an outrageously great
cinematic experience about a would-be saviour who
overthrows an evil and corrupt empire. And don't
we just need our own Paul Atreides? Right. Fucking.
Now.
Who will deliver us from evil?
Hmm...
Go Away Now
Sandman
