Sandman
Well-known member
SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC v DUNDEER MIFFLIN
"Champions keep playing until they get it right."
- Billie Jean king. A good gi...bl...le...erm...
ROXIE - 6.5/10
Surely he'd get a night off saving the jerseys?
Nope, opening minutes were all about the monolithic
presence thwarting their forays into our box as
the Celtic players struggled to work out the
significance of the referee blowing his whistle
after they had all lined-up for kick-off...
Mercifully for Joe the rest of the half turned
into a basic arithmetic test as he tried not to
lose count of the times the net bulged at the
other end.
Unfortunately he is a goalkeeper, and therefore
it's understandable why he was ragin' after their
consolation went in - because he thought it was
an equaliser.
GREGGS THE BAKER - 7.5/10
Sunday's flighted delight was repeated to set
up Matty, and Greggs went one better by tucking
away a goal of his own with the nonchalance he
usually exhibits putting a try of sausage rolls
in the oven. Then he actually smiled. Or was it
wind?
WAYNE GRETZKY - 7.5/10
Aggressive and brusque approach signals the
iceman is approaching something like last season's
consistency.
Seems to segue well with tricky Ying, and unsettled
their decent EPL-level fullback by charging past
him at will to fire in useful - and goalscoring -
deliveries.
OF JUSTICE - 5.5/10
A reprieve through injury? Rocky goes down but
his sparring partner stays on his feet and weighs
in for another bout.
Yet still looks on the ropes with careless passing
and ineffectual phyical confrontations; powder-puffed
off the ball for their Nazi stormtrooper's disallowed
goal. Must level-up his attributes back to autumn's
comprehensive defensive displays or remain our current
weak link.
GET CARTER - 6.5/10
Back and you fucking know it. And so do they.
Stiffed a few suspiciously enthusiastic Huns in
dark blue like they were watching a Jenna Jameson
90s classic, then added to the midfield domination by
stepping in with angry-grizzly intent and scattering
resistance. Crowned a decent return with the classic
climb-and-clank-it-in opener.
TONIO IWATAO - 8/10
Sunday's least popular substitution becomes Wednesday's
most nodded-at inclusion. Positional awareness
anchored the midfield, showing exactly how it's
done early-on when snuffing out alarming danger on
the edge of our box.
Brought a sense of dark menace and controlled violence
to a midfield that's been too lightweight at times
recently; like a Japanese Peaky Blinder.
CALMAC - 6.5/10
With great power comes great responsibility. So with
three points mandatory the skipper set to it in the
advanced role many believe he's most effective in...
Well, me and Peter Grant.
Sweet surprise of the night for the architect as he
skelped in the sixth with his last touch and got an
early massage with a happy ending from some 'good girl'
as the second 45 went through the motions...
THE BUILDER - 8/10
He'll shake his head, then shake them up with it.
Nobody's his biggest critic other than the mirror
and even extreme handsomeness can find irritating
self-dissatisfaction; not that there's any Huns ever
been in such a position. The ugly bastards.
But when the silken limbs synched, finally, it was
Matty of early season - scoring, silky and
match-winning.
YING - 8.5/10 MOTM
Yang-a-lang! I thought this bhoy had something there
despite previous damp squibs; firecrackered his way
down that wing tonight and proved his worth in often
scintillating fashion with the direct and chaotic
wingplay you love to see rattle the opposition.
We've witnessed sand-dancers a-plenty and there is
often an air of self-doubt around them, but with
the Yangster it manifests more like an irrepresible
desire to do the next thing brighter and better;
confidence within that separates the very good from
the intermittently good.
Certainly hit some high notes tonight and deserves
extra kudos and MOTM for doing so against no mug -
their rated Liverpool loanee who nullified Daizen
at Xmas.
DUNCAN IDAHO - 7.5/10
Saving himself for the weekend (when I get to see
Dune Part 2)? No, he's deid in that, I forgot. But
well alive for the moment wearing the Hoops; in
that he's found a temporary home where he's being
welcomed like a long-lost billionaire brother with
a terminal condition.
And like an echo of happier times, He Don't Stop.
Season-saving intervention on Sunday, continuation
of an uptrend tonight with a clever headed killer
goal. Then he threw a scoundrel to the ground in a
fit of rebel indignation. More!
LORD KATSUMOTO - 7/10
HA! If anyone else had executed that turn and
finish, they'd be gushing over it like the
Justin Beiber fanclub at a meet & greet.
So Daizen gets the goal of the game after a
tremendous build-up and seemed moderately
happy, while the watching stadium peers through
at the acid rain and wonders about it's LSD
content...
SUBS -
KILLER MUSHROOM - N/A
On he comes, off goes the creativity switch,
around he roams until denied a big goal by a
big stop from a big Hun haddie.
Not too bothered - while Idaho scores, the wee
mhan can work on getting his mojo back for the
run-in. There's a couple of games against his
favourite cannon-fodder coming up right on
cue...
NED KELLY - 7/10
The bhoy's a savage! The outlaw nation roars
a guided screamer into the top corner with the
leg he normally uses for kicking getaway horses.
A dream-come-true moment, hit from a distance of
a yard for every year of his short life; exactly
the way he imagined it in the nursery-school
playground game. Yesterday.
TONY THE TIGER - N/A
Left? Again? I remember left. It's no' right.
Right?
BRIAN DE - N/A
Cameo crossbar caresses don't come much sweeter
than that near-worldy effort. Unlucky.
RAQUEL - N/A
Just enough time on the park to become the new
glamour pin-up ghirl of the Dundee Discovery
Expeditionary Force as the away contingent
swooned. Like seeing electric lights hadn't
blown their minds enough.
THE SHNAKE - 8/10
"Good bhoy. Good bhoy. Good bhoy. Good bhoy.
Good bhoy. Good bhoy. Good bhoy. Damn; Bad Bhoys."
After days of dragging suffragettes out of
the way of his Range Rover and having professional
hand-wringers call for burning at the stake just
because he misgendered some BBC transexual (Although
you'd think they'd have been happy, in a confusing
way...), finally the boss gets back to basics;
The basics of getting a tune out of his season-long
toil and trouble - and that's a phrase witches are familiar
with, just for you interloping BBC she/he/it/theys...
Tonight, for the important part of the game, he
nailed it like the media fantasising about him and
a wooden cross, and we finally got some scintillating
product out on the park.
No scathing critique in order after that razzle-dazzle.
Now rinse and repeat for Sunday.
Good bloke...
MIBBERY - 0/10
Stunned. Simply stupefied. Left as impotent as Allan
McGregor in a roomful of consenting women. The VAR
monitor was on Ebay by half-time.
OVERALL - 8.5/10
Fuck that, bored out of my box by half-time. And
failed to win the second. Sack the bored (sic).
A performance of throwback magnificence that cast
us into glorious remeniscence of past glories.
Magnificent seven demolition precisely when required,
ramping up the goal difference and ramping up the
belief in a squad badly needing a booster shot that
isn't rife with Bill Gates jizz.
Classic Heiders & Volleys won the match by the interval:
3 nods in a row had us 9 schoolyard points in the lead
and a single volley in the second 45 would have scooped
all Dundee's lunch money.
I commented on Sunday being pivotal, mentally (or maybe
I didn't, nit-pickers - read back yourselves, I can't be
fucked with that; do yer own homework...) and this evening's
slaughter may have vindicated that notion.
The Bhoys got into title-winning rhythm with tempo
and penetration that eviscerated their opponents who'd
arrived on the back of an impressive campaign to date.
This game contained too many echoes of the previous
couple of seasons' glories to ignore. And the hope
rises that we're going to get a symphonic reprise of
those dynamite rallies in the closing months to come.
Or at least a few quality cover versions to drown out
the horrendous flutes, pan pipes, tin drums and xylophone
cacophony brewing up from The Travelling Williams
(apologies, Roy Orbison et al...)on the other side of
the city.
On we tour, next date Sunday, live from Diet Hun Arena.
Go Away Now
Sandman
"Champions keep playing until they get it right."
- Billie Jean king. A good gi...bl...le...erm...
ROXIE - 6.5/10
Surely he'd get a night off saving the jerseys?
Nope, opening minutes were all about the monolithic
presence thwarting their forays into our box as
the Celtic players struggled to work out the
significance of the referee blowing his whistle
after they had all lined-up for kick-off...
Mercifully for Joe the rest of the half turned
into a basic arithmetic test as he tried not to
lose count of the times the net bulged at the
other end.
Unfortunately he is a goalkeeper, and therefore
it's understandable why he was ragin' after their
consolation went in - because he thought it was
an equaliser.
GREGGS THE BAKER - 7.5/10
Sunday's flighted delight was repeated to set
up Matty, and Greggs went one better by tucking
away a goal of his own with the nonchalance he
usually exhibits putting a try of sausage rolls
in the oven. Then he actually smiled. Or was it
wind?
WAYNE GRETZKY - 7.5/10
Aggressive and brusque approach signals the
iceman is approaching something like last season's
consistency.
Seems to segue well with tricky Ying, and unsettled
their decent EPL-level fullback by charging past
him at will to fire in useful - and goalscoring -
deliveries.
OF JUSTICE - 5.5/10
A reprieve through injury? Rocky goes down but
his sparring partner stays on his feet and weighs
in for another bout.
Yet still looks on the ropes with careless passing
and ineffectual phyical confrontations; powder-puffed
off the ball for their Nazi stormtrooper's disallowed
goal. Must level-up his attributes back to autumn's
comprehensive defensive displays or remain our current
weak link.
GET CARTER - 6.5/10
Back and you fucking know it. And so do they.
Stiffed a few suspiciously enthusiastic Huns in
dark blue like they were watching a Jenna Jameson
90s classic, then added to the midfield domination by
stepping in with angry-grizzly intent and scattering
resistance. Crowned a decent return with the classic
climb-and-clank-it-in opener.
TONIO IWATAO - 8/10
Sunday's least popular substitution becomes Wednesday's
most nodded-at inclusion. Positional awareness
anchored the midfield, showing exactly how it's
done early-on when snuffing out alarming danger on
the edge of our box.
Brought a sense of dark menace and controlled violence
to a midfield that's been too lightweight at times
recently; like a Japanese Peaky Blinder.
CALMAC - 6.5/10
With great power comes great responsibility. So with
three points mandatory the skipper set to it in the
advanced role many believe he's most effective in...
Well, me and Peter Grant.
Sweet surprise of the night for the architect as he
skelped in the sixth with his last touch and got an
early massage with a happy ending from some 'good girl'
as the second 45 went through the motions...
THE BUILDER - 8/10
He'll shake his head, then shake them up with it.
Nobody's his biggest critic other than the mirror
and even extreme handsomeness can find irritating
self-dissatisfaction; not that there's any Huns ever
been in such a position. The ugly bastards.
But when the silken limbs synched, finally, it was
Matty of early season - scoring, silky and
match-winning.
YING - 8.5/10 MOTM
Yang-a-lang! I thought this bhoy had something there
despite previous damp squibs; firecrackered his way
down that wing tonight and proved his worth in often
scintillating fashion with the direct and chaotic
wingplay you love to see rattle the opposition.
We've witnessed sand-dancers a-plenty and there is
often an air of self-doubt around them, but with
the Yangster it manifests more like an irrepresible
desire to do the next thing brighter and better;
confidence within that separates the very good from
the intermittently good.
Certainly hit some high notes tonight and deserves
extra kudos and MOTM for doing so against no mug -
their rated Liverpool loanee who nullified Daizen
at Xmas.
DUNCAN IDAHO - 7.5/10
Saving himself for the weekend (when I get to see
Dune Part 2)? No, he's deid in that, I forgot. But
well alive for the moment wearing the Hoops; in
that he's found a temporary home where he's being
welcomed like a long-lost billionaire brother with
a terminal condition.
And like an echo of happier times, He Don't Stop.
Season-saving intervention on Sunday, continuation
of an uptrend tonight with a clever headed killer
goal. Then he threw a scoundrel to the ground in a
fit of rebel indignation. More!
LORD KATSUMOTO - 7/10
HA! If anyone else had executed that turn and
finish, they'd be gushing over it like the
Justin Beiber fanclub at a meet & greet.
So Daizen gets the goal of the game after a
tremendous build-up and seemed moderately
happy, while the watching stadium peers through
at the acid rain and wonders about it's LSD
content...
SUBS -
KILLER MUSHROOM - N/A
On he comes, off goes the creativity switch,
around he roams until denied a big goal by a
big stop from a big Hun haddie.
Not too bothered - while Idaho scores, the wee
mhan can work on getting his mojo back for the
run-in. There's a couple of games against his
favourite cannon-fodder coming up right on
cue...
NED KELLY - 7/10
The bhoy's a savage! The outlaw nation roars
a guided screamer into the top corner with the
leg he normally uses for kicking getaway horses.
A dream-come-true moment, hit from a distance of
a yard for every year of his short life; exactly
the way he imagined it in the nursery-school
playground game. Yesterday.
TONY THE TIGER - N/A
Left? Again? I remember left. It's no' right.
Right?
BRIAN DE - N/A
Cameo crossbar caresses don't come much sweeter
than that near-worldy effort. Unlucky.
RAQUEL - N/A
Just enough time on the park to become the new
glamour pin-up ghirl of the Dundee Discovery
Expeditionary Force as the away contingent
swooned. Like seeing electric lights hadn't
blown their minds enough.
THE SHNAKE - 8/10
"Good bhoy. Good bhoy. Good bhoy. Good bhoy.
Good bhoy. Good bhoy. Good bhoy. Damn; Bad Bhoys."
After days of dragging suffragettes out of
the way of his Range Rover and having professional
hand-wringers call for burning at the stake just
because he misgendered some BBC transexual (Although
you'd think they'd have been happy, in a confusing
way...), finally the boss gets back to basics;
The basics of getting a tune out of his season-long
toil and trouble - and that's a phrase witches are familiar
with, just for you interloping BBC she/he/it/theys...
Tonight, for the important part of the game, he
nailed it like the media fantasising about him and
a wooden cross, and we finally got some scintillating
product out on the park.
No scathing critique in order after that razzle-dazzle.
Now rinse and repeat for Sunday.
Good bloke...
MIBBERY - 0/10
Stunned. Simply stupefied. Left as impotent as Allan
McGregor in a roomful of consenting women. The VAR
monitor was on Ebay by half-time.
OVERALL - 8.5/10
Fuck that, bored out of my box by half-time. And
failed to win the second. Sack the bored (sic).
A performance of throwback magnificence that cast
us into glorious remeniscence of past glories.
Magnificent seven demolition precisely when required,
ramping up the goal difference and ramping up the
belief in a squad badly needing a booster shot that
isn't rife with Bill Gates jizz.
Classic Heiders & Volleys won the match by the interval:
3 nods in a row had us 9 schoolyard points in the lead
and a single volley in the second 45 would have scooped
all Dundee's lunch money.
I commented on Sunday being pivotal, mentally (or maybe
I didn't, nit-pickers - read back yourselves, I can't be
fucked with that; do yer own homework...) and this evening's
slaughter may have vindicated that notion.
The Bhoys got into title-winning rhythm with tempo
and penetration that eviscerated their opponents who'd
arrived on the back of an impressive campaign to date.
This game contained too many echoes of the previous
couple of seasons' glories to ignore. And the hope
rises that we're going to get a symphonic reprise of
those dynamite rallies in the closing months to come.
Or at least a few quality cover versions to drown out
the horrendous flutes, pan pipes, tin drums and xylophone
cacophony brewing up from The Travelling Williams
(apologies, Roy Orbison et al...)on the other side of
the city.
On we tour, next date Sunday, live from Diet Hun Arena.
Go Away Now
Sandman
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