Sandman
Well-known member
SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RATINGS - CELTIC v BUY A LEDERHOSEN
"Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans.
Like thinking you're in a game while getting horsed 4-0..."
- John Lennon
ROXIE - 7/10
What more could a gal do? Life is a cabaret at Celtic Park
on nights like these, and the big stopper pulled off some
fine saves yet still conceded 4.
She's better on the ball, too, than most of the back four
and for some reason there's a sense of relief when the ball's
shuttled to our keeper from the backline; the wrong reaction,
surely?
TONY THE TIGER - 7.5/10 MOTM
Solid Tony, the girls call him, and there's no denying our
unfancied right-back was a rock tonight. Stuck a couple of
sobering reminders on useful former Hitler Youth wide-boy,
and was often seen playing central defence as his confidence
levels in our centre-back pairing reached mine.
Mr.100% gave us everything on a night when you need your
water-carriers at it like demons to establish any sort of
base from which to launch for glory; He was, shame about
others.
FIELD MARSHALL - 5.5/10
The kid seemed a little overawed by the sheer furore of it
all and couldn't quite get himself in amongst the telling
action. Caught in no-man's land too often as their pacy
counters had him freewheeling, ball-watching and indecisive.
He stuck at it, though, and will have gained a ton of
experience.
GET CARTER - 6/10
Well, if there's one way to defeat a giant it's to bamboozle
him with fleet-footed, deadly attackers. Our monster in the
middle was kept on his boulder-hewn toes, but like The Thing
from The Fantastic Four, he was too cumbersome to bring more
than physical fortitude. Also had a Human Torch beside him
capable of alarming self-immolation at any moment, just for
coincidences...
STAR LORD - 5.5/10
Hmm, he wears the condemned face of a man staring at a
hungry grizzly on a lonely mountain trail. Yet he did
display the mettle to face up to his fears tonight, then kind
of blubbed his way through the match after going to sleep
for ten minutes and finding us two-down.
Had been rocky but reliable until he tributed Efe Ambrose v
Juventus by letting a long ball drop over him into the
striker's path. Big Roxie bailed him out there with a fine
stop, but from the resultant corner passage of play we went
behind. And his dreamlike observation of their movement for
the second reminded me of the peyote desert scenes from The
Doors movie.
Still, for all the chin-to-chest moments, there were positives
about his game, more than previously. Ironically...
CALMAC - 7/10
A fine return to the fold and form from the skipper. Han Solo-ed
it against a frighteningly fluid opposition mid. Some terrific
movement, vision and precision passing to keep possession and
us ticking over. Great player. Help him!
EDDIE TURNBULL - 0/10
Stupid. Dozy. Cunt.
ROGIC - 6.5/10
The guile of our two-man midfield. Started and almost finished
the move of the match for us. Needs to take over the dangerous
free-kicks. Found his level well against quality, some enlivening
and exciting walkabouts (see what i did there, Jenny Aguter?)
between their lines but just failed to find the killer deftness
he's capable of. Still, I was surprised how well he showed up
given the pace of the game and the non-stop motion of
Leverkusen.
ABADASS - 5.5/10
On the verge of sand-dancing his way into glory. Never quite
made it; his final balls were hit-and-miss, his miss was a
shocker - should have hit the target with a rebound and pulled
us within one, making the rest of the second-half a very different
proposition for them. But, them's the breaks... And he's still
got a lot more to give The Hoops. Not bad overall.
MR.KOBAYASHI - 6/10
Oh, how we missed his movement and pace. And, oh how he
missed two glorious chances; foiled by the goalie and by his
own uncharacteristic fluster - blew up like Hiroshima with the
goal gaping.
His night was summed up just before he was subbed as the ball
refused to break for him yet again and he unleashed a furious
roar at the war gods in the heavens. Aberdeen might have
problems on Sunday. Fiver on a Kyogo hat-trick for me...
NOTEBOOK - 7/10
Baby, I'm *almost* Your Man, accompanied his every thrilling
dribble; Well, it did in my heid, and he proved a handful for
returning wee dick, PingPong, to contain. We may have won a
prize with this Benfica kid eager to prove himself. Damned
unlucky not to score or make one tonight, against classy
opposition.
SUBS:
THE YETI - N/A
On to sighs, the equivalent of a human towel being thrown
in. Chose to help their bewitched keeper with his arse as
we chased a late consolation. Says it all, really.
MCCARTHYISM - N/A
Another space-filler as we looked to Sunday. Carefully
avoided injury for fifteen minutes.
BITTON - N/A
Padded around with pseudo-menace for a while. Comically
passed the ball out of the pitch from a dangerous situation.
SON OF JACKIE - N/A
'Stars' of Celtic late 80s are often forgotten. Not so,
the swashbuckling Polish swordsman of that era. A mhan
so potent that legend has it that one night in Sticky
Vicky's nightclub EVERY female in the premises - bartender
to toilet attendant, executive to skanky Sengas - had
at some point known the Dziekanowski talent with bow
and arrow. He was an archer too, you see, never mised
a target... Look it up if your deisbelief is failing
suspension.
So some decades after Poland played a friendly in Greece,
there comes a son following in the legendary footsteps
of his beloved father. Well, the guy he spoke to awkwardly
to in stinted Polak-Greco on the long-distnce phone call
once a month. But his former club-dancer Mum showed him
plenty of videos..
Does the fruit fall far from the tree? Well, the young
phonetically-named Jackie Junior will have the testimony
of many of Glasgow's nubile debutantes, no doubt, but
our concern is more bulging nets than wombs. Does he
indeed have the dual-potency of Dad? We will see. Over
to you, burds and balls...
ANITA DOBSON - 6/10
Well, Ange got a taste of Angeball tonight. Not from his
own team, though. "That's it, that's the way to do it!
See? See?!" he yelled, waving a pointy finger as he ran
up and down the line after Leverkusen breakaways.
But nobody in the Hoops was listening. Everyone was
knackered chasing the ball and the fucking greyhounds
in tasteless blue.
But if Ange's feeling a little cursed, who could blame him?
He set up for full-on Angeball (As we feared...) against a
German special corps and asked his players to be brave.
It almost worked, if we could find the net past a goaltender
designed by some sort of SpaceX super-android program.
Yet the performance we gave him, particularly in our
ascendancy periods, was exactly what he's preached. And you
watching, yes, fucking YOU, moaning like a bam as we fell
time and again like a fat kid in a mad dodgeball game in
the school gym, must acknowledge you were on yer feet
at least as many times as yer head was in yer hands.
So where do we go with Ange now? Replicating this performance
and rampaging through Scottish sides, that's where. For anyone
of a higher level, one very pacy defender is required...
OVERALL - 6/10
Damn, basketball's a bitch. Especially when you miss the easy
baskets or get blocked by some miracle interception and the
opposition race up the court and dunk every fucking one they
go for. And even get one thrown in for them...
There's always one. Yes, you at the back of the class. There's
alway one spoils it for the rest... And all the kids used to
glare round at me, and I felt... Well, like Turnbull.
Quite fucking incredible. Bundesliga uber-furhers come to town
and everyone's psyched for taking them on and the crowd's frenzied
and thunderous and the team's going toe-to-toe and thrilling with
some uninhibited attacking intent and... The village idiot thinks
he can mug-out a stormtrooper like he was a girl guide. And falls
over.
Put it down to senility on Eddie Turnbull's part. Surprised not
to see Ange murmurring to himself on the side as he loaded a couple
of shells into a shotgun.
And with the calamity came the downfall. Yet this was at times the
fearless Celtic we wanted back from the recent debacles. However,
we were playing a side far more accomplished and dynamic, a year or
two ahead of us in progress; something we can aspire to because it's
a level we can afford to get within reach of. Pumped 0-4 but it felt
like I'd witnessed a real ding-dong encounter where we'd given a good
account of ourselves.
What a strange night.
Anyway, fun's over.... Onto Sheepland and must-win mundanity.
Go Away Now
Sandman
"Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans.
Like thinking you're in a game while getting horsed 4-0..."
- John Lennon
ROXIE - 7/10
What more could a gal do? Life is a cabaret at Celtic Park
on nights like these, and the big stopper pulled off some
fine saves yet still conceded 4.
She's better on the ball, too, than most of the back four
and for some reason there's a sense of relief when the ball's
shuttled to our keeper from the backline; the wrong reaction,
surely?
TONY THE TIGER - 7.5/10 MOTM
Solid Tony, the girls call him, and there's no denying our
unfancied right-back was a rock tonight. Stuck a couple of
sobering reminders on useful former Hitler Youth wide-boy,
and was often seen playing central defence as his confidence
levels in our centre-back pairing reached mine.
Mr.100% gave us everything on a night when you need your
water-carriers at it like demons to establish any sort of
base from which to launch for glory; He was, shame about
others.
FIELD MARSHALL - 5.5/10
The kid seemed a little overawed by the sheer furore of it
all and couldn't quite get himself in amongst the telling
action. Caught in no-man's land too often as their pacy
counters had him freewheeling, ball-watching and indecisive.
He stuck at it, though, and will have gained a ton of
experience.
GET CARTER - 6/10
Well, if there's one way to defeat a giant it's to bamboozle
him with fleet-footed, deadly attackers. Our monster in the
middle was kept on his boulder-hewn toes, but like The Thing
from The Fantastic Four, he was too cumbersome to bring more
than physical fortitude. Also had a Human Torch beside him
capable of alarming self-immolation at any moment, just for
coincidences...
STAR LORD - 5.5/10
Hmm, he wears the condemned face of a man staring at a
hungry grizzly on a lonely mountain trail. Yet he did
display the mettle to face up to his fears tonight, then kind
of blubbed his way through the match after going to sleep
for ten minutes and finding us two-down.
Had been rocky but reliable until he tributed Efe Ambrose v
Juventus by letting a long ball drop over him into the
striker's path. Big Roxie bailed him out there with a fine
stop, but from the resultant corner passage of play we went
behind. And his dreamlike observation of their movement for
the second reminded me of the peyote desert scenes from The
Doors movie.
Still, for all the chin-to-chest moments, there were positives
about his game, more than previously. Ironically...
CALMAC - 7/10
A fine return to the fold and form from the skipper. Han Solo-ed
it against a frighteningly fluid opposition mid. Some terrific
movement, vision and precision passing to keep possession and
us ticking over. Great player. Help him!
EDDIE TURNBULL - 0/10
Stupid. Dozy. Cunt.
ROGIC - 6.5/10
The guile of our two-man midfield. Started and almost finished
the move of the match for us. Needs to take over the dangerous
free-kicks. Found his level well against quality, some enlivening
and exciting walkabouts (see what i did there, Jenny Aguter?)
between their lines but just failed to find the killer deftness
he's capable of. Still, I was surprised how well he showed up
given the pace of the game and the non-stop motion of
Leverkusen.
ABADASS - 5.5/10
On the verge of sand-dancing his way into glory. Never quite
made it; his final balls were hit-and-miss, his miss was a
shocker - should have hit the target with a rebound and pulled
us within one, making the rest of the second-half a very different
proposition for them. But, them's the breaks... And he's still
got a lot more to give The Hoops. Not bad overall.
MR.KOBAYASHI - 6/10
Oh, how we missed his movement and pace. And, oh how he
missed two glorious chances; foiled by the goalie and by his
own uncharacteristic fluster - blew up like Hiroshima with the
goal gaping.
His night was summed up just before he was subbed as the ball
refused to break for him yet again and he unleashed a furious
roar at the war gods in the heavens. Aberdeen might have
problems on Sunday. Fiver on a Kyogo hat-trick for me...
NOTEBOOK - 7/10
Baby, I'm *almost* Your Man, accompanied his every thrilling
dribble; Well, it did in my heid, and he proved a handful for
returning wee dick, PingPong, to contain. We may have won a
prize with this Benfica kid eager to prove himself. Damned
unlucky not to score or make one tonight, against classy
opposition.
SUBS:
THE YETI - N/A
On to sighs, the equivalent of a human towel being thrown
in. Chose to help their bewitched keeper with his arse as
we chased a late consolation. Says it all, really.
MCCARTHYISM - N/A
Another space-filler as we looked to Sunday. Carefully
avoided injury for fifteen minutes.
BITTON - N/A
Padded around with pseudo-menace for a while. Comically
passed the ball out of the pitch from a dangerous situation.
SON OF JACKIE - N/A
'Stars' of Celtic late 80s are often forgotten. Not so,
the swashbuckling Polish swordsman of that era. A mhan
so potent that legend has it that one night in Sticky
Vicky's nightclub EVERY female in the premises - bartender
to toilet attendant, executive to skanky Sengas - had
at some point known the Dziekanowski talent with bow
and arrow. He was an archer too, you see, never mised
a target... Look it up if your deisbelief is failing
suspension.
So some decades after Poland played a friendly in Greece,
there comes a son following in the legendary footsteps
of his beloved father. Well, the guy he spoke to awkwardly
to in stinted Polak-Greco on the long-distnce phone call
once a month. But his former club-dancer Mum showed him
plenty of videos..
Does the fruit fall far from the tree? Well, the young
phonetically-named Jackie Junior will have the testimony
of many of Glasgow's nubile debutantes, no doubt, but
our concern is more bulging nets than wombs. Does he
indeed have the dual-potency of Dad? We will see. Over
to you, burds and balls...
ANITA DOBSON - 6/10
Well, Ange got a taste of Angeball tonight. Not from his
own team, though. "That's it, that's the way to do it!
See? See?!" he yelled, waving a pointy finger as he ran
up and down the line after Leverkusen breakaways.
But nobody in the Hoops was listening. Everyone was
knackered chasing the ball and the fucking greyhounds
in tasteless blue.
But if Ange's feeling a little cursed, who could blame him?
He set up for full-on Angeball (As we feared...) against a
German special corps and asked his players to be brave.
It almost worked, if we could find the net past a goaltender
designed by some sort of SpaceX super-android program.
Yet the performance we gave him, particularly in our
ascendancy periods, was exactly what he's preached. And you
watching, yes, fucking YOU, moaning like a bam as we fell
time and again like a fat kid in a mad dodgeball game in
the school gym, must acknowledge you were on yer feet
at least as many times as yer head was in yer hands.
So where do we go with Ange now? Replicating this performance
and rampaging through Scottish sides, that's where. For anyone
of a higher level, one very pacy defender is required...
OVERALL - 6/10
Damn, basketball's a bitch. Especially when you miss the easy
baskets or get blocked by some miracle interception and the
opposition race up the court and dunk every fucking one they
go for. And even get one thrown in for them...
There's always one. Yes, you at the back of the class. There's
alway one spoils it for the rest... And all the kids used to
glare round at me, and I felt... Well, like Turnbull.
Quite fucking incredible. Bundesliga uber-furhers come to town
and everyone's psyched for taking them on and the crowd's frenzied
and thunderous and the team's going toe-to-toe and thrilling with
some uninhibited attacking intent and... The village idiot thinks
he can mug-out a stormtrooper like he was a girl guide. And falls
over.
Put it down to senility on Eddie Turnbull's part. Surprised not
to see Ange murmurring to himself on the side as he loaded a couple
of shells into a shotgun.
And with the calamity came the downfall. Yet this was at times the
fearless Celtic we wanted back from the recent debacles. However,
we were playing a side far more accomplished and dynamic, a year or
two ahead of us in progress; something we can aspire to because it's
a level we can afford to get within reach of. Pumped 0-4 but it felt
like I'd witnessed a real ding-dong encounter where we'd given a good
account of ourselves.
What a strange night.
Anyway, fun's over.... Onto Sheepland and must-win mundanity.
Go Away Now
Sandman
KIN SUPERB, Sandman 
