Sandman
Well-known member
SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC v ALUCARD'S XI
"Der Tod ist nicht das Schlimmste. Es gibt viel schrecklichere Dinge."
Translation: "Death is not the worst thing. There are things much more
horrible."
Scene: 1872, 'Discussion of Der Huns'- Nosferatu Phantom Der Nacht
(1979 German language production).
"Eeeeeeeeyyyyy, yeah - I thought we would terrify dem Young Lads by
playin' Neely an' Dunn in defence. But, ey, terns out it were us that
got pumped in the end..."
Slippy G, recognising historical cover-up...
THE WALL - 7.5/10
Dracula v Franskenstein was a poor 1971 American attempt to cash in on
Hammer Horror's chilling Dracula series. Tonight, we presented the
Transylvannian batfinks with our own monster and, by Christ, did he repel
their evil intentions.
Terrific reflex fingertip save epitomised the improvement in his game since
his last Celtic tenure, and raises the mystery - how in hell is he not No.1
down south? Who cares, good old EPL; lol Bayern.
AJER - 7/10
Nordic mythology throws up more fearsome adversaries than vampires,
and Son Of Ragnar has fought them all to escape the louring fijords and
make it to Glasgow. Great attitude to the game - forging relentlessly for
dominance over their pesky interchanging forwards, minimising impulsive
mistakes.
JULLIEN CLARY 8/10
Could he counter vampirism with his cutting wit? Could he have had a
hat-trick? On Saturday v Hibs he missed a glorious chance - echoed
tonight as he again failed to direct headers in. But he's a centre-half, and
that's a small golscoring gripe which will eventually rectify in spectacular
manner.
Looking more and more like VVD MK2 with every passing major challenge.
Tackle in penalty area first-half was a thing of sublime defensive beauty;
timing to make Hawking rethink its origins.
BOLIWOOD - 8/10
Wellll... He's not as fucking mental as many thought. Although his best
performance still remains as dandy Ruby Rhod in The Fifth Element...
Again, the positives in his antics vastly outweighed the negatives.
He stoats about Paradise like one of us who's rolled up after a stag
night to find the gates unlocked and a ball sat on the empty pitch.
That grin...
His utter optimism created the opening goal - who the hell else was
going to chase that pass - sublime as it was - to the very byline on a
slick, sodden pitch? And then apply the perfect dink? Brilliant.
He's beginning to excite even the biggest mineshafters when he drives
forward. Quiver, ladies, quiver. Go you, Ruby.
HAT ATTACK - 7/10
I am Terminator. I am Mosaad genetic-engineered replacement
for Mad Polis. I am unequivocal and I am win. I am going to render
you obsolete, winger being. I am programmed to be consistent
beyond belief. I am also beyond expectations and elicit eyebrow-raising
admiration from skeptical, price-obsessed whingers. I am Hat Attack.
I am right-back and maybe bargain of season. I am invincible.
Seemingly.
BROON - 8.5/10 MOTM
'No one can escape his destiny...' said Nosferatu, and Captain Calamity
of CL catastrophe had vengeance in mind. No volleyball antics tonight.
What we got was an example of utterly focussed high-level combative
excellence for 90 minutes.
Broon was your main character in TV box-set series indulgence - THE
focal point of the story which, no matter the hit-or-miss side-filler episodes,
you know with relish the show will always revert to.
There were plenty cameos to excite, but at the heart of the entertainment
from beginning to end there was the Captain, cranking up the dynamics,
asking for the quality of performances around him to satisfy us viewers.
Amends made.
CALMAC -7/10
His forte is Real-Time Strategy - RTS in gaming lingo and Calmac's the perfect
Hooped exponent of calculation and execution in a single thought process; like
watching a currency trader at work in a dynamic market, he's reading the charts
and making the passes just as the rest of us are stroking chins and thinking we
see gaps.
He appeared a tad jaded much of the time but THAT pass - laser-guided hope
- which Boliwood and Eddy turned into a glorious moment was the ticket price
and rainstorm soaking all accounted for. On replay it had me biting my top lip
and fluttering a hand on my decolletage like a foppish designer watching a
Westwood show at Milan fashion week; yes, it nearly had me gay for it.
CORPUS - 8/10
The Living Saviour doesn't run - he 'chanks'. Chanks into space, chanks between
their defensive lines, chanks fucking everywhere. Busts a gut yet maintains a
physical presence to buffer the blows that come his way. Probably the fittest
specimen I've seen clad in the sacred garments for many a year.
A perpetual nightmare for defences to cope with. He pinched the ball off them,
made the passes, ran the channels, might have scored a few, had their skipper
on his knees crying into his cupped hands - screeching Vampyr for 'fuuuck offff!!'
as Corpus delivered the unrelenting wrath of god upon their unholy heids.
ELSHAGYONLASSIE - 7.5/10
Another getting better and better with gametime. An impressive hour in Rennes
was now followed up by a - surprising - 90 minutes in which he emerged from a
first-half slumber into the player we thought he might be. Lively, alert, dangerous
- making and taking his killer goal that was cunningly planted in off a vampire
arse just to add some karma. Still a work in progress but if there's more to come,
we're in for a treat.
FORREST - 7/10
A longtime admirer of the Dracula's-cloak flashing method - swoosh! - Jamesy
had the chance to teach his own technique to the spawn of Satan. And didn't he
do it with an expose (Ladies...) of guile and dynamic... Well, flashes of magic.
He's the perfect antidote to vampiric sucking-the-life-out-the-game, popping
up on the fringes as they rigorously applied their defensive block, and driving at
them directly like a priapic Van Helsing with his stake threatening to violate.
He did the damage and retired to acclaim, his audience suitably enthralled,
and without an untucked wanger in sight.
FRENCH EDDY - 8/10
Blade. Slayer. Retribution in human form. There are times when he floats like
a razor-clawed, pissed-off Bengal tiger with butterfly wings; he'll glide about
then tear you apart, leave you bleeding and weeping and wondering just how
you get close enough, tough enough, lucky enough to stop him.
You can't stop class, and he's showing us his. 21 years old. Fuck's sake. You do
realise he'll get better, right? You do realise one Bitcoin is currently 7 grand
and will be worth a million in a round three years? French Eddy, too, is
inevitable. Absolutely inevitable.
I am not a financial advisor, but don't say I didn't tell yeez...
SUBS:
HAYES - N/A
It is the Fenian LAW - one who scores to slaughter the Hordes of Hun
at the Mountain Of Snakes shall, by honouring, and by honour bound,
take part in EVERY Celtic game until the coming of Ragnarok.
SAM JACKSON - N/A/M (Not Applicable Muthufuckas)
Well this Muthufucka truly did not have a chance to lay down some o' the
Lawd's vengeance up onevil-dooers who attempt to poison and destroy
his muthuufckin' brothers as muthufuckin' undead devils spectred their way
into town.
Ain't takin no truck with muthufuckin hemovores, this Muthufucka, cos he
needs no muthufuckin' vampire masters - he is the foot muthufuckin'
master! Five DAMN minutes. Five damn minutes to save a power o' editin'.
God-dammit, Mut-hu-fucka!
LENNONY - 8/10
A chance to make amends for his most erratic performance since the holy
boss-jaiket was re-fitted for him in March. A chance to stifle the murmurs
after Saturday's questionable game-management in Junkietown.
And he did his job in fine fashion. Though the line-up was more bent on
attack, Lennony's tactics worked better to contain their sporadic dynamism
and prevent the startled collapses of August when faced with Cludgie's
agressive forward surges.
He was hepled of course by far better individual performances on the park,
but he had sensibly decided to play the big-money signings instead of the
bizarre shuffle that collpsed the CL campaign. Notable, if genuine, that he's
willing to question his own beliefs and evolve to suit the situation.
A great manager doth that mindset make.
OVERALL - 8.5/10
Up the Clyde they came, stowed in the bowels of a ghost-ship. 20 coffins
half-full of earth, delivered to Celtic Park in wooden carts drawn by snorting
black stallions whipped-on by cowled shadowy wraiths: Cluj, returned to their
killing field to draw more rich fenian blood...
Only to be met by Ash, Blade, Van Helsing, the Frog Brothers, Seth Gecko and
every other nemesis of the Armies of Darkness you care to call to mind. They
were staked through the heart, chainsawed and drowned in the holy water that
poured from the Paradise heavens.
This sequel, our players refused to be drawn and rattled by Cludgie's unsettling
style - the old voodoo met the new hoodoo and our gameplan worked a treat
- pinned them in and picked them off when they tried to get out.
A great level of performance that may serve us brilliantly for the rest of the
season if we can get close to replicating it as often as possible. As for the
Europa- this group can be OURS over the next two games.
'Mon The Fearless Vampire Killers!
Go Away Now.
Sandman. On it, From Dusk 'til Dawn.
"Der Tod ist nicht das Schlimmste. Es gibt viel schrecklichere Dinge."
Translation: "Death is not the worst thing. There are things much more
horrible."
Scene: 1872, 'Discussion of Der Huns'- Nosferatu Phantom Der Nacht
(1979 German language production).
"Eeeeeeeeyyyyy, yeah - I thought we would terrify dem Young Lads by
playin' Neely an' Dunn in defence. But, ey, terns out it were us that
got pumped in the end..."
Slippy G, recognising historical cover-up...
THE WALL - 7.5/10
Dracula v Franskenstein was a poor 1971 American attempt to cash in on
Hammer Horror's chilling Dracula series. Tonight, we presented the
Transylvannian batfinks with our own monster and, by Christ, did he repel
their evil intentions.
Terrific reflex fingertip save epitomised the improvement in his game since
his last Celtic tenure, and raises the mystery - how in hell is he not No.1
down south? Who cares, good old EPL; lol Bayern.
AJER - 7/10
Nordic mythology throws up more fearsome adversaries than vampires,
and Son Of Ragnar has fought them all to escape the louring fijords and
make it to Glasgow. Great attitude to the game - forging relentlessly for
dominance over their pesky interchanging forwards, minimising impulsive
mistakes.
JULLIEN CLARY 8/10
Could he counter vampirism with his cutting wit? Could he have had a
hat-trick? On Saturday v Hibs he missed a glorious chance - echoed
tonight as he again failed to direct headers in. But he's a centre-half, and
that's a small golscoring gripe which will eventually rectify in spectacular
manner.
Looking more and more like VVD MK2 with every passing major challenge.
Tackle in penalty area first-half was a thing of sublime defensive beauty;
timing to make Hawking rethink its origins.
BOLIWOOD - 8/10
Wellll... He's not as fucking mental as many thought. Although his best
performance still remains as dandy Ruby Rhod in The Fifth Element...
Again, the positives in his antics vastly outweighed the negatives.
He stoats about Paradise like one of us who's rolled up after a stag
night to find the gates unlocked and a ball sat on the empty pitch.
That grin...
His utter optimism created the opening goal - who the hell else was
going to chase that pass - sublime as it was - to the very byline on a
slick, sodden pitch? And then apply the perfect dink? Brilliant.
He's beginning to excite even the biggest mineshafters when he drives
forward. Quiver, ladies, quiver. Go you, Ruby.
HAT ATTACK - 7/10
I am Terminator. I am Mosaad genetic-engineered replacement
for Mad Polis. I am unequivocal and I am win. I am going to render
you obsolete, winger being. I am programmed to be consistent
beyond belief. I am also beyond expectations and elicit eyebrow-raising
admiration from skeptical, price-obsessed whingers. I am Hat Attack.
I am right-back and maybe bargain of season. I am invincible.
Seemingly.
BROON - 8.5/10 MOTM
'No one can escape his destiny...' said Nosferatu, and Captain Calamity
of CL catastrophe had vengeance in mind. No volleyball antics tonight.
What we got was an example of utterly focussed high-level combative
excellence for 90 minutes.
Broon was your main character in TV box-set series indulgence - THE
focal point of the story which, no matter the hit-or-miss side-filler episodes,
you know with relish the show will always revert to.
There were plenty cameos to excite, but at the heart of the entertainment
from beginning to end there was the Captain, cranking up the dynamics,
asking for the quality of performances around him to satisfy us viewers.
Amends made.
CALMAC -7/10
His forte is Real-Time Strategy - RTS in gaming lingo and Calmac's the perfect
Hooped exponent of calculation and execution in a single thought process; like
watching a currency trader at work in a dynamic market, he's reading the charts
and making the passes just as the rest of us are stroking chins and thinking we
see gaps.
He appeared a tad jaded much of the time but THAT pass - laser-guided hope
- which Boliwood and Eddy turned into a glorious moment was the ticket price
and rainstorm soaking all accounted for. On replay it had me biting my top lip
and fluttering a hand on my decolletage like a foppish designer watching a
Westwood show at Milan fashion week; yes, it nearly had me gay for it.
CORPUS - 8/10
The Living Saviour doesn't run - he 'chanks'. Chanks into space, chanks between
their defensive lines, chanks fucking everywhere. Busts a gut yet maintains a
physical presence to buffer the blows that come his way. Probably the fittest
specimen I've seen clad in the sacred garments for many a year.
A perpetual nightmare for defences to cope with. He pinched the ball off them,
made the passes, ran the channels, might have scored a few, had their skipper
on his knees crying into his cupped hands - screeching Vampyr for 'fuuuck offff!!'
as Corpus delivered the unrelenting wrath of god upon their unholy heids.
ELSHAGYONLASSIE - 7.5/10
Another getting better and better with gametime. An impressive hour in Rennes
was now followed up by a - surprising - 90 minutes in which he emerged from a
first-half slumber into the player we thought he might be. Lively, alert, dangerous
- making and taking his killer goal that was cunningly planted in off a vampire
arse just to add some karma. Still a work in progress but if there's more to come,
we're in for a treat.
FORREST - 7/10
A longtime admirer of the Dracula's-cloak flashing method - swoosh! - Jamesy
had the chance to teach his own technique to the spawn of Satan. And didn't he
do it with an expose (Ladies...) of guile and dynamic... Well, flashes of magic.
He's the perfect antidote to vampiric sucking-the-life-out-the-game, popping
up on the fringes as they rigorously applied their defensive block, and driving at
them directly like a priapic Van Helsing with his stake threatening to violate.
He did the damage and retired to acclaim, his audience suitably enthralled,
and without an untucked wanger in sight.
FRENCH EDDY - 8/10
Blade. Slayer. Retribution in human form. There are times when he floats like
a razor-clawed, pissed-off Bengal tiger with butterfly wings; he'll glide about
then tear you apart, leave you bleeding and weeping and wondering just how
you get close enough, tough enough, lucky enough to stop him.
You can't stop class, and he's showing us his. 21 years old. Fuck's sake. You do
realise he'll get better, right? You do realise one Bitcoin is currently 7 grand
and will be worth a million in a round three years? French Eddy, too, is
inevitable. Absolutely inevitable.
I am not a financial advisor, but don't say I didn't tell yeez...
SUBS:
HAYES - N/A
It is the Fenian LAW - one who scores to slaughter the Hordes of Hun
at the Mountain Of Snakes shall, by honouring, and by honour bound,
take part in EVERY Celtic game until the coming of Ragnarok.
SAM JACKSON - N/A/M (Not Applicable Muthufuckas)
Well this Muthufucka truly did not have a chance to lay down some o' the
Lawd's vengeance up onevil-dooers who attempt to poison and destroy
his muthuufckin' brothers as muthufuckin' undead devils spectred their way
into town.
Ain't takin no truck with muthufuckin hemovores, this Muthufucka, cos he
needs no muthufuckin' vampire masters - he is the foot muthufuckin'
master! Five DAMN minutes. Five damn minutes to save a power o' editin'.
God-dammit, Mut-hu-fucka!
LENNONY - 8/10
A chance to make amends for his most erratic performance since the holy
boss-jaiket was re-fitted for him in March. A chance to stifle the murmurs
after Saturday's questionable game-management in Junkietown.
And he did his job in fine fashion. Though the line-up was more bent on
attack, Lennony's tactics worked better to contain their sporadic dynamism
and prevent the startled collapses of August when faced with Cludgie's
agressive forward surges.
He was hepled of course by far better individual performances on the park,
but he had sensibly decided to play the big-money signings instead of the
bizarre shuffle that collpsed the CL campaign. Notable, if genuine, that he's
willing to question his own beliefs and evolve to suit the situation.
A great manager doth that mindset make.
OVERALL - 8.5/10
Up the Clyde they came, stowed in the bowels of a ghost-ship. 20 coffins
half-full of earth, delivered to Celtic Park in wooden carts drawn by snorting
black stallions whipped-on by cowled shadowy wraiths: Cluj, returned to their
killing field to draw more rich fenian blood...
Only to be met by Ash, Blade, Van Helsing, the Frog Brothers, Seth Gecko and
every other nemesis of the Armies of Darkness you care to call to mind. They
were staked through the heart, chainsawed and drowned in the holy water that
poured from the Paradise heavens.
This sequel, our players refused to be drawn and rattled by Cludgie's unsettling
style - the old voodoo met the new hoodoo and our gameplan worked a treat
- pinned them in and picked them off when they tried to get out.
A great level of performance that may serve us brilliantly for the rest of the
season if we can get close to replicating it as often as possible. As for the
Europa- this group can be OURS over the next two games.
'Mon The Fearless Vampire Killers!
Go Away Now.
Sandman. On it, From Dusk 'til Dawn.
