Sandman
Well-known member
SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC v Folsom County Jail
"It's the end of the world as we know it..."
REM.
B.A.BARKAS - N/A
He must be getting used to this - no touches bar picking
it out the net.
BITTON - PASS
Fresh from assassinating some nuclear scientist in Tehran,
he was a less deadly, composed presence in the heart of the
backline.
Games like this, when we're 90% in possession, up against a
defensive block, he's the right man to be on the ball to build
from deep. So we took him off...
AJER - FAIL
Seems more confident about venturing forward with the stability
of Jullien and Bitton beside him. Also more careless. And casual.
His drive petered out as calamity overwhelmed us agian.
JULLIEN CLARY - FAIL
Rehabilitation continues in the football equivalent of wrestling
steer. Penalty? What penalty? - Coonty clown clatters into him
from behind, attempting buggery, falls over. How surprising a
Scottish ref gave that...
Still not 100% and it told ultimately as we chucked the second
in from a straightforward corner second-ball situation with
marking absent.
HAT ATTACK - FAIL
Giving it a go wide - decent delivery first-half (You watching,
Corpus?) but he still suffers from costly lapses and problems
against pace - ergo their penalty after he was skinned.
Second period, that vital final killer ball not yet discovered
in existence. Over to you, Attenborough...
BROON - PASS
The armchair Steins' favourite call - drop Broon. Because...
Reasons! And... More reasons! Did what he was supposed to do -
control the midfield. Engine room boss. Reliance on others to
produce is not his prerogative. You think you're hurting?
Try being the Nearly-Quadrofenian skipper and play with that
dearth of desire around you.
CORPUS - FAIL
An enigma with the feet of Judy Garland; he'll click together
some magical, enchanting moments but deliver a cross or corner
as if he was literally wearing a pair of ruby fucking slippers.
ROGIC - FAIL
Oz, you're a right-winger. No I'm not.
DREXL - PASS
More underused than the charity bucket at Ibrox. We know he
probably possesses the most wicked cross at Celtic Park since
Van Helsing slayed Dick Advocaat but funnelling the ballout
to him today was hindered by lag and profligacy. Lacking any
natural wide man, he should have been our main go-to because
- give him this - he is a consistent show-er for the ball.
THE YETI - FAIL
Battles for the cause, it must be said. A confidence player,
we hear... Well, our confidence in him isn't the best as he
threatens great things, has some hellish luck but... Fades...
FRENCH EDDY - FAIL
Corralled. Two sniffs, both meh-ed. C'est la vie? Or Je suis
furieux? The difference is crucial going forward.
SUBS:
CALMAC - N/A
And not before time. But there was no
real time for any guile to save our souls.
ELSHAGYONLASSIE - FAIL
Sitter. Missed it. Fucked. Bothered?
ALAN LADD - FAIL
Just who we needed. To shore up the
defence and stop then sneaking a second
from a set-piece. Eh...
KLIMALA KLIMAX - N/A
And on he came to a scene as grubby as any
70s porn flick.
LENNONY - FAIL
Well, if he's not arachnophobic then all the tarantulas
that have come out of the shadows in recent weeks will give
him nightmares now.
Went two up front as craved, but had us narrow and nullifying
his potent strikeforce. Came the hour, the man who steppeed
in to save the Eight got nothing from his expensive charges.
So the Greetin' Brigade will be outside Paradise tomorrow
building a gallows and giving more merriment to the Huns,
and the raging keyboard Green Huns will pillory a Celtic legend
and denegrate his life's finest work, but...
Ah, fuck them all - I don't buy into crowd-think or lynch mobs;
I do think Neil lennon's crossed the Rubicon (look it up illiterate
perma-angry cunts) and hit that bridge too far; the players are
always the tell when a manager's influence has waned. Today's
acid test proved an anemic and alkaline negative. His choice now?
I doubt anything else than to take the long walk.
But he'll go with my eternal gratitude for returning to fill the
gap The Snake left at the midnight hour, and he'll be remembered
as a fine combative player from one of our greatest sides of this
century and as a winning maager who antagonised the vermin to the
point of apoplexy.
His legend will be as the jinx of their nightmares and the rebel
we needed when the chips were down. Thanks, Lennony.
OVERALL - 0/10
An ignominious defeat ends half a decade of domination. Just as
well because nobody knew what to call a fifth consecutive treble
anyway. 'Ferble', 'Quintreble', 'Fifthble'?
Remarkably, for the first time since Covid escaped the Mordor
enclosure the crowd was bigger than would have been if things
were normal.
First, congrats to Ross Coonty for a superb, disciplined
performance that maximised their capabilities and challenged
Celtic to find quality to overcome. Celtic 'couldn't'. Or
'didn't.' ; Those two words take on sublte shifts in meaning
today - did we try hard enough or not demand enough of
ourselves?
I suspect the latter - the culmination of a manager trying to
coax the best out of a collective of players in a rut who don't
respect or fear him in the required measure to get their fucking
fingers out.
So that's why I went for exam results rather than numbers until
now - Celtic 2020 has become a simple equation that passes or
fails. We've lost the qualities of a dynamic algorithm that can
multi-task and out-perform standard systems. The zest, magic,
rhythm and excitement has evaporated - and nobody really knows
who is singularly to blame; a couple of months ago the board's
praises were being sung as the transfer window closed and we
retained crucial services and added new quality. The team looked
potent and switched-on at last, and the manager buoyant.
Now here we are. The pullback of the great surge to glory has
arrived. Assets dip in any market when there's a bull-run on.
Ours are crashing right now. It's staircase up, elevator down.
Often a pullback like this preceeds a real blast, recouping losses
and surging to new highs.
What Celtic do in the next month will dictate if we ever reach
for all-time highs again, or drop through resistance into a bear
market we never thought we'd see the likes of.
It's been a ride and the triumphs magnificent and life-enhancing.
But we're sitting at the crossroads now, engine running, fuel low.
Somebody well paid for it will need to make decisions and choose
a direction.
Sandman.
"It's the end of the world as we know it..."
REM.
B.A.BARKAS - N/A
He must be getting used to this - no touches bar picking
it out the net.
BITTON - PASS
Fresh from assassinating some nuclear scientist in Tehran,
he was a less deadly, composed presence in the heart of the
backline.
Games like this, when we're 90% in possession, up against a
defensive block, he's the right man to be on the ball to build
from deep. So we took him off...
AJER - FAIL
Seems more confident about venturing forward with the stability
of Jullien and Bitton beside him. Also more careless. And casual.
His drive petered out as calamity overwhelmed us agian.
JULLIEN CLARY - FAIL
Rehabilitation continues in the football equivalent of wrestling
steer. Penalty? What penalty? - Coonty clown clatters into him
from behind, attempting buggery, falls over. How surprising a
Scottish ref gave that...
Still not 100% and it told ultimately as we chucked the second
in from a straightforward corner second-ball situation with
marking absent.
HAT ATTACK - FAIL
Giving it a go wide - decent delivery first-half (You watching,
Corpus?) but he still suffers from costly lapses and problems
against pace - ergo their penalty after he was skinned.
Second period, that vital final killer ball not yet discovered
in existence. Over to you, Attenborough...
BROON - PASS
The armchair Steins' favourite call - drop Broon. Because...
Reasons! And... More reasons! Did what he was supposed to do -
control the midfield. Engine room boss. Reliance on others to
produce is not his prerogative. You think you're hurting?
Try being the Nearly-Quadrofenian skipper and play with that
dearth of desire around you.
CORPUS - FAIL
An enigma with the feet of Judy Garland; he'll click together
some magical, enchanting moments but deliver a cross or corner
as if he was literally wearing a pair of ruby fucking slippers.
ROGIC - FAIL
Oz, you're a right-winger. No I'm not.
DREXL - PASS
More underused than the charity bucket at Ibrox. We know he
probably possesses the most wicked cross at Celtic Park since
Van Helsing slayed Dick Advocaat but funnelling the ballout
to him today was hindered by lag and profligacy. Lacking any
natural wide man, he should have been our main go-to because
- give him this - he is a consistent show-er for the ball.
THE YETI - FAIL
Battles for the cause, it must be said. A confidence player,
we hear... Well, our confidence in him isn't the best as he
threatens great things, has some hellish luck but... Fades...
FRENCH EDDY - FAIL
Corralled. Two sniffs, both meh-ed. C'est la vie? Or Je suis
furieux? The difference is crucial going forward.
SUBS:
CALMAC - N/A
And not before time. But there was no
real time for any guile to save our souls.
ELSHAGYONLASSIE - FAIL
Sitter. Missed it. Fucked. Bothered?
ALAN LADD - FAIL
Just who we needed. To shore up the
defence and stop then sneaking a second
from a set-piece. Eh...
KLIMALA KLIMAX - N/A
And on he came to a scene as grubby as any
70s porn flick.
LENNONY - FAIL
Well, if he's not arachnophobic then all the tarantulas
that have come out of the shadows in recent weeks will give
him nightmares now.
Went two up front as craved, but had us narrow and nullifying
his potent strikeforce. Came the hour, the man who steppeed
in to save the Eight got nothing from his expensive charges.
So the Greetin' Brigade will be outside Paradise tomorrow
building a gallows and giving more merriment to the Huns,
and the raging keyboard Green Huns will pillory a Celtic legend
and denegrate his life's finest work, but...
Ah, fuck them all - I don't buy into crowd-think or lynch mobs;
I do think Neil lennon's crossed the Rubicon (look it up illiterate
perma-angry cunts) and hit that bridge too far; the players are
always the tell when a manager's influence has waned. Today's
acid test proved an anemic and alkaline negative. His choice now?
I doubt anything else than to take the long walk.
But he'll go with my eternal gratitude for returning to fill the
gap The Snake left at the midnight hour, and he'll be remembered
as a fine combative player from one of our greatest sides of this
century and as a winning maager who antagonised the vermin to the
point of apoplexy.
His legend will be as the jinx of their nightmares and the rebel
we needed when the chips were down. Thanks, Lennony.
OVERALL - 0/10
An ignominious defeat ends half a decade of domination. Just as
well because nobody knew what to call a fifth consecutive treble
anyway. 'Ferble', 'Quintreble', 'Fifthble'?
Remarkably, for the first time since Covid escaped the Mordor
enclosure the crowd was bigger than would have been if things
were normal.
First, congrats to Ross Coonty for a superb, disciplined
performance that maximised their capabilities and challenged
Celtic to find quality to overcome. Celtic 'couldn't'. Or
'didn't.' ; Those two words take on sublte shifts in meaning
today - did we try hard enough or not demand enough of
ourselves?
I suspect the latter - the culmination of a manager trying to
coax the best out of a collective of players in a rut who don't
respect or fear him in the required measure to get their fucking
fingers out.
So that's why I went for exam results rather than numbers until
now - Celtic 2020 has become a simple equation that passes or
fails. We've lost the qualities of a dynamic algorithm that can
multi-task and out-perform standard systems. The zest, magic,
rhythm and excitement has evaporated - and nobody really knows
who is singularly to blame; a couple of months ago the board's
praises were being sung as the transfer window closed and we
retained crucial services and added new quality. The team looked
potent and switched-on at last, and the manager buoyant.
Now here we are. The pullback of the great surge to glory has
arrived. Assets dip in any market when there's a bull-run on.
Ours are crashing right now. It's staircase up, elevator down.
Often a pullback like this preceeds a real blast, recouping losses
and surging to new highs.
What Celtic do in the next month will dictate if we ever reach
for all-time highs again, or drop through resistance into a bear
market we never thought we'd see the likes of.
It's been a ride and the triumphs magnificent and life-enhancing.
But we're sitting at the crossroads now, engine running, fuel low.
Somebody well paid for it will need to make decisions and choose
a direction.
Sandman.
Last edited:
