Sandman
Well-known member
SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC V ALESSIOS BURNS' COUNTRY BASTARDOS
"A secret of mine untold in ye tales of our time was the truth of the
witches, warlocks, ungodly horrors and fornicating wraiths poor Tam O'Shanter
encountered at ye old Alloway cemetary.
They were simply Killie folk on a night out in auld Ayr."
Rabbie Burns, 'Deathbed Confessions'.
THE WALL - 7.5/10
"The Wall, The Wall, He saves the fucking ball!". I just made that up there - Bernie Taupin,
eat yer heart out. Greg Aitken, tug yer forelock out, tragic Hun. Was the big fella a bit
culpable for the opener? Jury's out, but the penalty save down to his right like a falling
redwood in time-lapse photography that gave the MIB's blue balls was worth every
earlier rumination.
BAUER - 6.5/10
Look at that hair! No wonder he's made a fortune from his multinational corporation
punting men's grooming products. When Stuart Armstrong takes his daily trip to the
Vidal Sassoon salon in London's Bond St, there's no need to use his unintelligible posh
Scots accent - he just simply hands them a photo of Bauer and says, 'This'.
'Feed the Bauer' the GB sang, maybe 'Feed the Hair' fits better. And it looks like he can
also play a bit. Delightful pass for Eddy's second, has an air of I'm-European-And-Your-
League-Is-Pish-Therefore-I'm-Going-To-Show-You-Neandethals-Some-Sohphistication.
Or maybe it was just the hair. Promising full debut.
JULLIEN CLARY - 7/10
Tested a bit by pacy frontman, giving him enough uncomfortable moments to warrant
focussing on his job at hand rather than reading the Sunday L'Equippe as he is wont to
do. Took an espresso and a call from Ironside to shake his ennui and engage Killie with
his formidable presence. Worrying knock late in the match gives cause for concern at
time of writing.
IRONSIDE - 6.5/10
Odin and Thor appeased, Son of Ragnar shook off his trials of Francia and returned to
Valhalla with his usual purpose, if not quite rampaging effectiveness. Spent most of the
game on guard against their well co-ordinated breaks, seemed secure enough. Opening
goal was a bit of a clusterfuck defensively overall, nobody particularly blameless or
culpable.
BOLIWOOD - 7/10
Baws of steel! Recovering from Thursday's sex-injury (or 'groin-strain' as the medical
professionals cheekily nickname it...) he was up and at it again like a priapic rabbit,
foraging for success up and down the left flank, providing a beauty of a cross for
the third. Like I said previously, bhoys working his baws off - factually - for the cause
and the balance of data is overwhelmingly positive in his statistical favour. Energised
anti-hero in the making.
BROON - 7/10
Penalised because... Because he's Broon. Challenge for their gift was innocuous, never
illegal, took the ball. Captain got marked for sacrificial rites by ludge felchers. Last
laugh as usual to the Mean Machine. More incomparable mental toughness driving
the team back from Hun heaven to a deserved victory.
CALMAC - 7/10
The Unrestable continues to require longevity to find his groove; not a bad thing,
in that once you get a metronome ticking you are loathe to stop it - same with our
metro-Gnome, poncing about the park like Podgy Pirlo, guileful left peg and cuteness
of passing that could be packaged and sold as kids furry, big-eyed, Christmas toys.
Got a trite sloppy late on but fatigue hads got to have its moments and he was
digging in to hold the fort.
FORREST - 8.5/10 MOTM
So we kept him left to begin with just in case he mistook Bauer for someone else -
y'know, someone that might be cute, blonde and pick up empty tumblers... A cunning
ploy because it was Killie to whom Jamesy, almost literally, give the cockwobbles.
Peppered their keeper, peppered their defenders who resorted to playing backie-inner
and nearest-netter and swatting Jamesy's shots away with their hands; no offence in
merry old Scotia; So he switched to playing provider for the mercurial Monsieur's
equalizer.
Jamesy can do anything, heiders too, foiled by his Bete Noire Dimanche in nets only
for the Son Of Man to mircale in the rebound for the third and press the JHOY button
on mission accomplished, after it had loomed Mission Impossible; Jamesy was
Tom Cruise. Who also memorably had his part in a Cocktail too...
SAM JACKSON - 6.5/10
God-damn! Muthufucka on from Genesis and still we can't get old testamaent on
their ass. This Day Of The Muthufucka was turning into a Muthufucka Of A Day as
this Muthufucka grew more and more confused at the un-righteous shenanigans
of the Bam In Black; an' it looked like some Muthufucka was goin to get Flock Of
Seagulls-ed.
Couldn't dictate like a Muthufucka as promising attacks broke down around him,
but class tells, muthufuckas - tested their keeper early second-half, kept his
muthufuckin' head in the game, got the GOD-DAMN JOB Muthufuckin' DONE!
And retired like a satisfied Muthu-fucka.
CORPUS CHRISTIE - 7.5/10
Picked up from Thursday and tormented them. Tormented the masonic goat-porn
hoarder too, who booked him for what is considered simulation if you are 'on the
square' and feeling a little tumescence after waving away Tim stonewall penalty
claims.
Energy levels looked to dip intermittently, understandably, as we tried to kill the
game as quickly as possible. But his deliveries were excellent and he Holy Ghosted
in to steal the third with his divine crotch and win the day for the forces of light.
FRENCH EDDY - 7.5/10
"Pah! I speet on your 'Uns and theese peeshy free-masssonerie," shrugged Eddy
as he stuck in two with contemptuous indifference and flicked his chin at the greetin'
ref.
Class in a glass of liquid mercury, running the line, lethal and languid. Appears
out of nowhere carrying a bottle of chilled Buckie just as you're wondering if he's
going to show up to the party.
Bhoys a Hunskelping Parisien Serpent-Killer who'll drown us all in a deluge of
glee before departing for distant shores, leaving us a a pile of gold dubloons
to make Smaug envious. Enjoy him, that timing and instinct. On-point this afternoon
to wrastle a game threatening to bolt from us.
SUBS:
HAYES - 6/10
Parachuting in from the shores of Normandy, 70 years since last time we saw him,
returning to hear his tune, and cameo through the last fifteen. No need for repeat
of his dragon-slaying tackle of Thursday; just needed to remain tidy and solid.
Which is required daily in the trenches of the Somme anyway.
HAT ATTACK - N/A
Rest day for our surprise package - not you, Jamesy - was interrupted as he saw
through the final minutes.
ROGIC - N/A
Big Oz ambled on, ref blew final whistle, Big Oz ambled off, pretty much.
LENNONY - 8/10
Phew. Confused many with the formation - using the Muthufucka to penetrate
their lines and playing Son Of Man wide. Maybe didn't work out. Mutuhfucka
is a great number ten when there's more space against teams prepared to open
up - witness his contribution at the Citadel of Cunts that Beautiful Sunday past;
Corpus more effective when you're trying to prise apart tin-cans like Killie.
Still, Lennony knows talent is talent and his faith in ours paid off after a scare.
He also knows the Ludge played a joker today and vented his ire at the loyalist
gimp determined to undermine the Bhoys travails. Keep calm, Lennony - if they
can't halt the mighty Hoops on the park, they'll go for you as a secondary tactic.
All-in, he must be pleased with the past four days outcome, and deservedly so -
different tests, well handled.
OVERALL -
No Euro hangover myths - the Bhoys maintained a level of performance good
enough to wipe SPL dross away. Trouble today was Killie having the Euro influence
of their own calling the shots which made them slightly more expansive and dangerous
on the counter. And of course the self-appointed centre of attention who always seems
to slip upon us un-noticed, like a Rohypnol-toting rapist in the night, the ubiquitous MIB.
To the Bhoys enormous credit they managed to overcome adversity and rebound to win
in spite of witchcraft. The Bunnet appeared at half-time and as he did 25 years ago,
dispelled the evil spirits with some unintelligible but Gandalf-esque proclamations.
Wee saviour inspired a satisfying win; the players get enormous credit for following up
Rennes with a battling win against a side who look like they may be getting their act
together under an enterprising foreign coach.
Tricky match negotiated with quality. How many of your teams have we put away now,
SFA/SPL Huns, how many in a row?
Tell them, Joker...
32 to go. 32 to The NINE
Go Away Now.
Sandman.
"A secret of mine untold in ye tales of our time was the truth of the
witches, warlocks, ungodly horrors and fornicating wraiths poor Tam O'Shanter
encountered at ye old Alloway cemetary.
They were simply Killie folk on a night out in auld Ayr."
Rabbie Burns, 'Deathbed Confessions'.
THE WALL - 7.5/10
"The Wall, The Wall, He saves the fucking ball!". I just made that up there - Bernie Taupin,
eat yer heart out. Greg Aitken, tug yer forelock out, tragic Hun. Was the big fella a bit
culpable for the opener? Jury's out, but the penalty save down to his right like a falling
redwood in time-lapse photography that gave the MIB's blue balls was worth every
earlier rumination.
BAUER - 6.5/10
Look at that hair! No wonder he's made a fortune from his multinational corporation
punting men's grooming products. When Stuart Armstrong takes his daily trip to the
Vidal Sassoon salon in London's Bond St, there's no need to use his unintelligible posh
Scots accent - he just simply hands them a photo of Bauer and says, 'This'.
'Feed the Bauer' the GB sang, maybe 'Feed the Hair' fits better. And it looks like he can
also play a bit. Delightful pass for Eddy's second, has an air of I'm-European-And-Your-
League-Is-Pish-Therefore-I'm-Going-To-Show-You-Neandethals-Some-Sohphistication.
Or maybe it was just the hair. Promising full debut.
JULLIEN CLARY - 7/10
Tested a bit by pacy frontman, giving him enough uncomfortable moments to warrant
focussing on his job at hand rather than reading the Sunday L'Equippe as he is wont to
do. Took an espresso and a call from Ironside to shake his ennui and engage Killie with
his formidable presence. Worrying knock late in the match gives cause for concern at
time of writing.
IRONSIDE - 6.5/10
Odin and Thor appeased, Son of Ragnar shook off his trials of Francia and returned to
Valhalla with his usual purpose, if not quite rampaging effectiveness. Spent most of the
game on guard against their well co-ordinated breaks, seemed secure enough. Opening
goal was a bit of a clusterfuck defensively overall, nobody particularly blameless or
culpable.
BOLIWOOD - 7/10
Baws of steel! Recovering from Thursday's sex-injury (or 'groin-strain' as the medical
professionals cheekily nickname it...) he was up and at it again like a priapic rabbit,
foraging for success up and down the left flank, providing a beauty of a cross for
the third. Like I said previously, bhoys working his baws off - factually - for the cause
and the balance of data is overwhelmingly positive in his statistical favour. Energised
anti-hero in the making.
BROON - 7/10
Penalised because... Because he's Broon. Challenge for their gift was innocuous, never
illegal, took the ball. Captain got marked for sacrificial rites by ludge felchers. Last
laugh as usual to the Mean Machine. More incomparable mental toughness driving
the team back from Hun heaven to a deserved victory.
CALMAC - 7/10
The Unrestable continues to require longevity to find his groove; not a bad thing,
in that once you get a metronome ticking you are loathe to stop it - same with our
metro-Gnome, poncing about the park like Podgy Pirlo, guileful left peg and cuteness
of passing that could be packaged and sold as kids furry, big-eyed, Christmas toys.
Got a trite sloppy late on but fatigue hads got to have its moments and he was
digging in to hold the fort.
FORREST - 8.5/10 MOTM
So we kept him left to begin with just in case he mistook Bauer for someone else -
y'know, someone that might be cute, blonde and pick up empty tumblers... A cunning
ploy because it was Killie to whom Jamesy, almost literally, give the cockwobbles.
Peppered their keeper, peppered their defenders who resorted to playing backie-inner
and nearest-netter and swatting Jamesy's shots away with their hands; no offence in
merry old Scotia; So he switched to playing provider for the mercurial Monsieur's
equalizer.
Jamesy can do anything, heiders too, foiled by his Bete Noire Dimanche in nets only
for the Son Of Man to mircale in the rebound for the third and press the JHOY button
on mission accomplished, after it had loomed Mission Impossible; Jamesy was
Tom Cruise. Who also memorably had his part in a Cocktail too...
SAM JACKSON - 6.5/10
God-damn! Muthufucka on from Genesis and still we can't get old testamaent on
their ass. This Day Of The Muthufucka was turning into a Muthufucka Of A Day as
this Muthufucka grew more and more confused at the un-righteous shenanigans
of the Bam In Black; an' it looked like some Muthufucka was goin to get Flock Of
Seagulls-ed.
Couldn't dictate like a Muthufucka as promising attacks broke down around him,
but class tells, muthufuckas - tested their keeper early second-half, kept his
muthufuckin' head in the game, got the GOD-DAMN JOB Muthufuckin' DONE!
And retired like a satisfied Muthu-fucka.
CORPUS CHRISTIE - 7.5/10
Picked up from Thursday and tormented them. Tormented the masonic goat-porn
hoarder too, who booked him for what is considered simulation if you are 'on the
square' and feeling a little tumescence after waving away Tim stonewall penalty
claims.
Energy levels looked to dip intermittently, understandably, as we tried to kill the
game as quickly as possible. But his deliveries were excellent and he Holy Ghosted
in to steal the third with his divine crotch and win the day for the forces of light.
FRENCH EDDY - 7.5/10
"Pah! I speet on your 'Uns and theese peeshy free-masssonerie," shrugged Eddy
as he stuck in two with contemptuous indifference and flicked his chin at the greetin'
ref.
Class in a glass of liquid mercury, running the line, lethal and languid. Appears
out of nowhere carrying a bottle of chilled Buckie just as you're wondering if he's
going to show up to the party.
Bhoys a Hunskelping Parisien Serpent-Killer who'll drown us all in a deluge of
glee before departing for distant shores, leaving us a a pile of gold dubloons
to make Smaug envious. Enjoy him, that timing and instinct. On-point this afternoon
to wrastle a game threatening to bolt from us.
SUBS:
HAYES - 6/10
Parachuting in from the shores of Normandy, 70 years since last time we saw him,
returning to hear his tune, and cameo through the last fifteen. No need for repeat
of his dragon-slaying tackle of Thursday; just needed to remain tidy and solid.
Which is required daily in the trenches of the Somme anyway.
HAT ATTACK - N/A
Rest day for our surprise package - not you, Jamesy - was interrupted as he saw
through the final minutes.
ROGIC - N/A
Big Oz ambled on, ref blew final whistle, Big Oz ambled off, pretty much.
LENNONY - 8/10
Phew. Confused many with the formation - using the Muthufucka to penetrate
their lines and playing Son Of Man wide. Maybe didn't work out. Mutuhfucka
is a great number ten when there's more space against teams prepared to open
up - witness his contribution at the Citadel of Cunts that Beautiful Sunday past;
Corpus more effective when you're trying to prise apart tin-cans like Killie.
Still, Lennony knows talent is talent and his faith in ours paid off after a scare.
He also knows the Ludge played a joker today and vented his ire at the loyalist
gimp determined to undermine the Bhoys travails. Keep calm, Lennony - if they
can't halt the mighty Hoops on the park, they'll go for you as a secondary tactic.
All-in, he must be pleased with the past four days outcome, and deservedly so -
different tests, well handled.
OVERALL -
No Euro hangover myths - the Bhoys maintained a level of performance good
enough to wipe SPL dross away. Trouble today was Killie having the Euro influence
of their own calling the shots which made them slightly more expansive and dangerous
on the counter. And of course the self-appointed centre of attention who always seems
to slip upon us un-noticed, like a Rohypnol-toting rapist in the night, the ubiquitous MIB.
To the Bhoys enormous credit they managed to overcome adversity and rebound to win
in spite of witchcraft. The Bunnet appeared at half-time and as he did 25 years ago,
dispelled the evil spirits with some unintelligible but Gandalf-esque proclamations.
Wee saviour inspired a satisfying win; the players get enormous credit for following up
Rennes with a battling win against a side who look like they may be getting their act
together under an enterprising foreign coach.
Tricky match negotiated with quality. How many of your teams have we put away now,
SFA/SPL Huns, how many in a row?
Tell them, Joker...
32 to go. 32 to The NINE
Go Away Now.
Sandman.
Last edited: