Sandman
Well-known member
SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC v FRANCO'S FOLLY
“The Nazi fascists understand everything except humour.
Just like the Huns.”
– Mary Berg, The Diary of Mary Berg: Growing up in the
Warsaw Ghetto
ROXIE - 8/10
The only English goalkeeper performing at the very top level
but still a prodigal to pizza-faced penalty shitebag Gareth
from The Office. World Cup place? Hmm...
Yet the wonder of Joe is a thing to behold as we experienced
the fraught horror of a one-on-one with the world's best winger
only to see our rejuvanated veteran keeper pull off a fabulous
stop to hit the break level.
No chance with the clinical genius of the following 45, but
what a presence he's been.
GREGGS THE BAKER - 8.5/10 MOTM
Whit? MOTM Sandman?! You know fuck-all! Yes. Yes, I do, or
don't... But take your meds and I'll explain in delicate
precision for whiny rockets...
Not only are the sausage rolls top-notch (usually) - and
we'll need a few to ease the pain in the morning - but I
haven't seen a Scottish defender cope so well in the most
testing of circumstances as since KT's days.
Double-teamed for 90 minutes due to the underperforming
Jota, up against not only Uruguay's best right-mid, but
also Spain's best RB; and both of them on his case at.
THE. SAME. FUCKING. TIME. ALL. GAME.
Enough to make Tavpen weep. And weep. Until his cheesy
tats bled.
Remarkably, Greggs stood up to it like a fucking boss.
Somehow had the mental resolve to also push himself
forward when required and try and spark some life into
our blunt attack second-half.
In all, of course he was eventually overrun. Of course
he was desperately trying to make ground and stop their
goals emanating from his side; but he was defending
Han Solo and his effort was beyond heroioc in the
circumstances.
BIG MERCEDES - 7/10
Extremely decent - good to know what he can do up
against the very best and there were no SPL lapses.
Ridiculously unlucky as Modric Of Mordor fulfilled
his Hobbit destiny to score again in Glasgow - Jenz's
first beautifully-timed block would have been
successful against anything but that wee Croatian
genius.
GET CARTER - 7/10
Benzema? Benzema shat it as the Big Mhan enforced
the law like an unmasked Judge Dredd with a lisp
and pseudo-Yank accent...
Solid and uncompromising, difficult to lay any
criticism at his door as he governed the central
defence so well; they merely played around him.
Because they're that good. The cunts.
JURAN JURAN - 6.5/10
Ach, he was doing so well - found his footing in
the game, gave us the surges up the right that revved
up the crowd; just couldn't find the killer ball in,
though Daizen fluffed his best.
Saddest moment of the night was JJ's minimal but
suicidal misinterpretation of the second goal movement -
watch as he takes just ONE step-up thinking he might
play offside and it's a millisecond error that takes
him too far from the eventual cross-ball playing in
the Brazilian wunderkind to score; If JJ tracks the
run/covers the penalty spot he's that single stride
away from being able to intercept the killer pass;
small margins at this level.
CALMAC - 7.5/10
The dream was there. But for a stupid fucking
physics-defying post. Groundstaff, please remove it
promptly. He actually hit the shot from outside the
post-line if you look at the replay; when does a
left-foot strike like that not just catch the woodwork
and skim in?
Only tonight, ffs, and only when you've got him at
33/1 to score from out the box...
Great performance from the skipper, fading slightly
after the break which gave them the opportunity they
needed but can hold his head high after taking on
the very best.
THE BUILDER - 6.5/10
The Bhoy looked great for the first half-hour, then
his influence inexplicably ebbed; just when I reckoned
he'd got their measure and was going to exploit the
space he'd so nicely cultivated around their box.
But that's what happens at such rarified heights -
suddenly they've adjusted, you're goosed and your
influence dissipates. But only a positive experience
for such a young talent.
HAKUNA HATATE - 7/10
No fear, says the Japanese shogun mantra, and no
fear was shown by the wee guy with the big talent.
Surprised he exited so early as he seemed to be
hanging in well and enjoying himself, as well as
looking creative every time we got him on the ball
in space.
ABADASS - 6.5/10
Saturday's Jewish Saint becomes Tuesdays almost-divinity...
But a clean strike or two from Celtic immortality,
the new idol spent a first-half rueing the greatest
chances of his young life against the finest side in
the world. He'll be running them over in his head as
you read this, and you will too... So damn, damn close.
SON OF JACKIE - 7.5/10
A tremendous effort from the Greek Rocky. No energy
spared as he rumbled the Madrid backline and made every
ball a scrap.
Remarkably, my only complaint of the night would be
that we didn't go direct to him MORE in the first-half,
as he looked to have them fruitfully spooked every time
we launched one and isolated him and the big centre-back.
NOTEBOOK - 5/10
Goddam, wouldn't you just know it? - the man of the moment,
the burgeoning superstar, the great Lisboa hope, fires a
blank on the biggest stage come the biggest hour.
Nothing ran for him, Carvalho pocketed him and he failed
every time to shake it up and thrash out a winning tune.
How often does the ryhthmic maestro fail to get the audience
dancing along with his feet? Never saw it coming, and neither
did he. Or you. Nae bloody luck.
SUBS -
MOOEY - 6/10
Very decent, not afraid to play a ball or get stuck in or
harry the finest, even though his task was thankless.
EDDIE TURNBULL - 5.5/10
Likewise, old bastard ambled about looking for Puskas, or
even Butragueno, but didn't let his confusion get in the
way of helping maintain a decent Celtic attacking option
right to the death.
HACKY SACK - 6.5/10
Well, here's one to oversome CL defeat depression -
didn't he look like a livewire capable of taking on top
jungle cats and throwing in a few scratches of his own?
Denied a memorable consolation only by a superb hand of
the implacable Courtois.
MR.KOBAYASHI - 5.5/10
Ooft, the wee man with the dodgy shoulder nearly notched
a memorable one with his silken thigh. Kind of summed
up our luck as the improvised dink suckered the goalie
but drifted just high and wide.
LORD KATSUMOTO - 5/10
Ach, it was right there Daizen - right there! Just kick
it like it was a Hun and we take the lead and we might
just create another historic evening.
But he scuffed it, they took a breath, then fucked us
like Alfie gleefully duct-taping up a re-captured
escapee from his basement...
ANITA DOBSON - 7.5/10
Angeball. It knows no fear. And Angeball was bristling
the hairs on your necks and on Hun Monkey necks across
the fiery pits of Hades at half-time as the 'transparent'
tactic wee Groinio has sussed (stop fucking laughing at
the back!) threatened to de-rail the world's finest
talents.
But there's little Angeball can do when its exponents
don't take their chances against THE very best. And as
intensity dropped and Ange sacrificed some pace and guile
for Hail Mary plays there was a sense of impending
inevitability.
And so it transpired that the Big Mhan's philosophy was
effective to a point until sheer quality nullfied its
cutting edge.
Yet, heart must be taken - 'if only' will haunt his
memories of that 90; the real test will be among us
and the other 'also-rans' as the scrap begins for the
coveted second spot. Roll on, Ange. Keep The Faith.
OVERALL - 7/10
Look, we're going to play the legit best club team on
the planet and you're going to get about half a dozen
good chances. Think you can take one?
"Eh, aye... Aye! Wi' our record? Course..."
Jesus wept, how about that universe? She/He is a bitch.
(pronouns applied when it suits you, gender-benders and
woke simps, yeah?)
Last Saturday morning, a wee Leprachaun pops out your
Guiness and says that over the imminent 2 games against
the European Champions proper and the European
Pish-Gargling Supertramps, Celtic will record a positive
4-3 aggregate; you taking that?
Hell, yeah.
And then that happens...
Got to take your chances. Or even just get the break
of the ball. We had them rocking first-half, but that
opening strike in our favour was sooooo important
that there was a seat reserved for it in front of
the Vatican pub big screen with a card reading,
'Fuck off, Pontif, First Goal only'.
And once they'd spent a tumultuous opening 45 slugging
it out, they settled, sparred a bit, then got our measure
as The Hoops' intensity fell away; thereafter they bossed
it and showed such class that half the hoors in Govan
had epiphanic moments and joined a Nunnery.
So we had our free swing at the big boys' pitches
and struck out three times. But we were damn close
to catching one and getting a base hit if not a home
run. See what I did there, Redsox fans?
They're the best there is for reasons that became
apparent as they passed not only us, but the entire
city of Glasgow's striking binmen's picket lines off
the park.
But given we now know we're capable of mixing it for
a time, the real CL adventure starts and ends - or not -
over the next two games.
No reason to fear anyone now. We just fought Ali
and hit the deck. It's getting back up that counts.
Go Away Now
Sandman
“The Nazi fascists understand everything except humour.
Just like the Huns.”
– Mary Berg, The Diary of Mary Berg: Growing up in the
Warsaw Ghetto
ROXIE - 8/10
The only English goalkeeper performing at the very top level
but still a prodigal to pizza-faced penalty shitebag Gareth
from The Office. World Cup place? Hmm...
Yet the wonder of Joe is a thing to behold as we experienced
the fraught horror of a one-on-one with the world's best winger
only to see our rejuvanated veteran keeper pull off a fabulous
stop to hit the break level.
No chance with the clinical genius of the following 45, but
what a presence he's been.
GREGGS THE BAKER - 8.5/10 MOTM
Whit? MOTM Sandman?! You know fuck-all! Yes. Yes, I do, or
don't... But take your meds and I'll explain in delicate
precision for whiny rockets...
Not only are the sausage rolls top-notch (usually) - and
we'll need a few to ease the pain in the morning - but I
haven't seen a Scottish defender cope so well in the most
testing of circumstances as since KT's days.
Double-teamed for 90 minutes due to the underperforming
Jota, up against not only Uruguay's best right-mid, but
also Spain's best RB; and both of them on his case at.
THE. SAME. FUCKING. TIME. ALL. GAME.
Enough to make Tavpen weep. And weep. Until his cheesy
tats bled.
Remarkably, Greggs stood up to it like a fucking boss.
Somehow had the mental resolve to also push himself
forward when required and try and spark some life into
our blunt attack second-half.
In all, of course he was eventually overrun. Of course
he was desperately trying to make ground and stop their
goals emanating from his side; but he was defending
Han Solo and his effort was beyond heroioc in the
circumstances.
BIG MERCEDES - 7/10
Extremely decent - good to know what he can do up
against the very best and there were no SPL lapses.
Ridiculously unlucky as Modric Of Mordor fulfilled
his Hobbit destiny to score again in Glasgow - Jenz's
first beautifully-timed block would have been
successful against anything but that wee Croatian
genius.
GET CARTER - 7/10
Benzema? Benzema shat it as the Big Mhan enforced
the law like an unmasked Judge Dredd with a lisp
and pseudo-Yank accent...
Solid and uncompromising, difficult to lay any
criticism at his door as he governed the central
defence so well; they merely played around him.
Because they're that good. The cunts.
JURAN JURAN - 6.5/10
Ach, he was doing so well - found his footing in
the game, gave us the surges up the right that revved
up the crowd; just couldn't find the killer ball in,
though Daizen fluffed his best.
Saddest moment of the night was JJ's minimal but
suicidal misinterpretation of the second goal movement -
watch as he takes just ONE step-up thinking he might
play offside and it's a millisecond error that takes
him too far from the eventual cross-ball playing in
the Brazilian wunderkind to score; If JJ tracks the
run/covers the penalty spot he's that single stride
away from being able to intercept the killer pass;
small margins at this level.
CALMAC - 7.5/10
The dream was there. But for a stupid fucking
physics-defying post. Groundstaff, please remove it
promptly. He actually hit the shot from outside the
post-line if you look at the replay; when does a
left-foot strike like that not just catch the woodwork
and skim in?
Only tonight, ffs, and only when you've got him at
33/1 to score from out the box...
Great performance from the skipper, fading slightly
after the break which gave them the opportunity they
needed but can hold his head high after taking on
the very best.
THE BUILDER - 6.5/10
The Bhoy looked great for the first half-hour, then
his influence inexplicably ebbed; just when I reckoned
he'd got their measure and was going to exploit the
space he'd so nicely cultivated around their box.
But that's what happens at such rarified heights -
suddenly they've adjusted, you're goosed and your
influence dissipates. But only a positive experience
for such a young talent.
HAKUNA HATATE - 7/10
No fear, says the Japanese shogun mantra, and no
fear was shown by the wee guy with the big talent.
Surprised he exited so early as he seemed to be
hanging in well and enjoying himself, as well as
looking creative every time we got him on the ball
in space.
ABADASS - 6.5/10
Saturday's Jewish Saint becomes Tuesdays almost-divinity...
But a clean strike or two from Celtic immortality,
the new idol spent a first-half rueing the greatest
chances of his young life against the finest side in
the world. He'll be running them over in his head as
you read this, and you will too... So damn, damn close.
SON OF JACKIE - 7.5/10
A tremendous effort from the Greek Rocky. No energy
spared as he rumbled the Madrid backline and made every
ball a scrap.
Remarkably, my only complaint of the night would be
that we didn't go direct to him MORE in the first-half,
as he looked to have them fruitfully spooked every time
we launched one and isolated him and the big centre-back.
NOTEBOOK - 5/10
Goddam, wouldn't you just know it? - the man of the moment,
the burgeoning superstar, the great Lisboa hope, fires a
blank on the biggest stage come the biggest hour.
Nothing ran for him, Carvalho pocketed him and he failed
every time to shake it up and thrash out a winning tune.
How often does the ryhthmic maestro fail to get the audience
dancing along with his feet? Never saw it coming, and neither
did he. Or you. Nae bloody luck.
SUBS -
MOOEY - 6/10
Very decent, not afraid to play a ball or get stuck in or
harry the finest, even though his task was thankless.
EDDIE TURNBULL - 5.5/10
Likewise, old bastard ambled about looking for Puskas, or
even Butragueno, but didn't let his confusion get in the
way of helping maintain a decent Celtic attacking option
right to the death.
HACKY SACK - 6.5/10
Well, here's one to oversome CL defeat depression -
didn't he look like a livewire capable of taking on top
jungle cats and throwing in a few scratches of his own?
Denied a memorable consolation only by a superb hand of
the implacable Courtois.
MR.KOBAYASHI - 5.5/10
Ooft, the wee man with the dodgy shoulder nearly notched
a memorable one with his silken thigh. Kind of summed
up our luck as the improvised dink suckered the goalie
but drifted just high and wide.
LORD KATSUMOTO - 5/10
Ach, it was right there Daizen - right there! Just kick
it like it was a Hun and we take the lead and we might
just create another historic evening.
But he scuffed it, they took a breath, then fucked us
like Alfie gleefully duct-taping up a re-captured
escapee from his basement...
ANITA DOBSON - 7.5/10
Angeball. It knows no fear. And Angeball was bristling
the hairs on your necks and on Hun Monkey necks across
the fiery pits of Hades at half-time as the 'transparent'
tactic wee Groinio has sussed (stop fucking laughing at
the back!) threatened to de-rail the world's finest
talents.
But there's little Angeball can do when its exponents
don't take their chances against THE very best. And as
intensity dropped and Ange sacrificed some pace and guile
for Hail Mary plays there was a sense of impending
inevitability.
And so it transpired that the Big Mhan's philosophy was
effective to a point until sheer quality nullfied its
cutting edge.
Yet, heart must be taken - 'if only' will haunt his
memories of that 90; the real test will be among us
and the other 'also-rans' as the scrap begins for the
coveted second spot. Roll on, Ange. Keep The Faith.
OVERALL - 7/10
Look, we're going to play the legit best club team on
the planet and you're going to get about half a dozen
good chances. Think you can take one?
"Eh, aye... Aye! Wi' our record? Course..."
Jesus wept, how about that universe? She/He is a bitch.
(pronouns applied when it suits you, gender-benders and
woke simps, yeah?)
Last Saturday morning, a wee Leprachaun pops out your
Guiness and says that over the imminent 2 games against
the European Champions proper and the European
Pish-Gargling Supertramps, Celtic will record a positive
4-3 aggregate; you taking that?
Hell, yeah.
And then that happens...
Got to take your chances. Or even just get the break
of the ball. We had them rocking first-half, but that
opening strike in our favour was sooooo important
that there was a seat reserved for it in front of
the Vatican pub big screen with a card reading,
'Fuck off, Pontif, First Goal only'.
And once they'd spent a tumultuous opening 45 slugging
it out, they settled, sparred a bit, then got our measure
as The Hoops' intensity fell away; thereafter they bossed
it and showed such class that half the hoors in Govan
had epiphanic moments and joined a Nunnery.
So we had our free swing at the big boys' pitches
and struck out three times. But we were damn close
to catching one and getting a base hit if not a home
run. See what I did there, Redsox fans?
They're the best there is for reasons that became
apparent as they passed not only us, but the entire
city of Glasgow's striking binmen's picket lines off
the park.
But given we now know we're capable of mixing it for
a time, the real CL adventure starts and ends - or not -
over the next two games.
No reason to fear anyone now. We just fought Ali
and hit the deck. It's getting back up that counts.
Go Away Now
Sandman
Last edited:
Slàinte
