Sandman
Well-known member
SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC V GODZILLA
"For what profits a man if he gains the whole world but loses his own soul?"
Greetin' Huns.
"Nothing. But I want to make you smelly bigoted nazis bleed out. Slowly."
Pope Mike Ashley.
BANE: 8/10
Did he turn up? Did anybody see him? At some point he might have been distracted from the new godawful
lesbian Batwoman trailer but his villainous services to the greater good were not required. Probably the
easiest Champions League night he'll ever have.
AJER: 8/10
The Techno Viking wasn't faffing around. Thundering into challenges and rampaging forward at any given opportunity. Shouldered in the opener - I thought Sparky headered it onto him, but as I was blootered in a bar somewwhere in Gran Canaria I'm not claiming definitive analysis on that one. The big lad's mindset was most impressive - focussed and driving the team on; future captain.
JOZO: 7/10
Enjoyed a bit of a wrestle with their handy Brazilian striker. After losing him early on, gulag rules found their way
into play and a choke-hold later Jozo was back in control. Nothing more to do for the Celt's enforcer other than look threatening and cast an eye to the heavens for Kenny Miller passing overhead.
BOLIWOOD: 5/10
Started well but the weight of carrying Sincy's hairstyle caught up with him and he was retired like a gold-mine donkey as his legs went; 'due to illness' was a given reason for his early substitution. Translation - has been philandering with a durty burd from Vicky's and caught a dose.
BITTON: 7/10
Lovely footballer, easy night. Languid style almost fools you into thinking he's dozing but then the guile comes into play and the lang streak o' class has turned defence into attack with a surgically crafted ball you'd have less chance
of envisioning than Alfredo Morelos with surgical breast enhancement and foppish wig riding a bikini-clad Andy halliday into battle in front of thousands of baying, slobbering orcs during an Ibrox fund-raising re-enactment of the Boyne.
BROON: 7/10
Roughed them up a bit, realised we were going to pump them and settled into his usual tidy captain's role. Nearly scored but for a wonder save/flukey bit of 'keeping. Refused to let the heads go down as we toiled to open the scoring. Another consistently affective performance.
CALMAC: 7/10
Not quite his silky self for the most part as passes blipped off course and he didn't quite float into dangerous spaces. Then, of course, as it does for quality players at some point - his game synched-up and he scored a peach, another zipping drive that skidded past the startled keeper. He should have scored two, for the simple reason that I had a tenner on him at 28/1 to do so. Apologies for the curse, Calmac.
CHRISTIE: 8.5/10 MOTM
Jings, young Corpus has brought some verve back into our attacking play. And he's taking penalties now. And delivering killer crosses from dead-balls. And bending in screamers with his cultured left peg. He is omnipotent, like his dad. And I don't mean Charlie.
FORREST: 6.5/10
Still not bursting them open, though he's bursting a gut trying. Jamesy's final touch is still escaping him at vital moments but everything else is there - pace, movement and vision; he sees how he wants to expose the opposition but his execution is frustrating him - and us - right now. A total contrast to the other kind of exposure Jamesy executes in spectacular fashion. Ladies...
GRIFF - 7.5/10
The Spark is back. Not easy to regain such a level of mentalness when you've been suffering, well, mentally... but he's too mad to keep down for long and The Griff lit up the night with a free-kick out of his 'Pure Brullyant Freekiks' book; With illustrations, obviously. A very, very promising rehabilitation may be unfolding before our happy eyes. His evening was marred only by him not yet remembering how long a game lasts and wandering off at approximately the end of a Game Of Thrones episode, which he's spent the past months box-setting. Luckily Lennony was sharp enough to throw on a sub and save Sparky too much embarrassment.
FRENCH EDDY - 7/10
Le Mercurial Gaul didn't score! Outrageous limelight-shirking as he let Sparky take the plaudits. Is there a partnership brewing to destroy SPL defences? Too early to tell, although it was good to see Eddy dropping off so readily and getitng space and time to slalom at the defence. On paper the Eddy/Sparky combination is exciting. If they click onfield it will be scintillating.
SUBS:
MIKEY J - 7/10
New-romanticised the hell out of them, twisting defenders inside-out, just lacked a killer ball/strike to ice his evening.
MORGAN FREEMAN JR. - 5/10
Where you goin', Lewis? Karaoke Dembele's question hung in the night air as Morgan's boy ran up some cul-de-sacs,. Strived but found little space or chang eout of a packed defence.
MUTHUFUCKIN SAM JACKSON - N/A
Muthufucka's back! Strolled on for a final few minutes like a swaggerin' muthufucka lookin' for a muthufucka to muthufuck-up. Applied himself like a muthufuckin' pro and is not in the business of hidin' like a muthufucka. If this muthufucka would waken up to the idea of lingerin' around for a muthufuckin' season then we'd be bebefitin' from a muthufuckin' ace up our sleeve when the goin' gits tough.
If he's still set on disappearin' like a mutuhfucka then make it soon, June, and get as many muthufuckin' bucks for the muthufucka as we muthufuckin' can before the muthufucka muthufuckin' upsets the muthufuckin' dressing-room environment if he's moanin' like a muthufucka. Moderate that, mutuhfuckas...
)
LENNONY - 8/10
Saw the bookies odds, set up to destroy them, got it right. Kept his cool and kept the team on track. He's experienced enough to know we would eventually pick them off. Forced into subs he might otherwise have kept cold; we had three wingers on the park at one point. But it looks like he has stage two cleared in a welcome, drama-free, clinical manner.
OVERALL - 8/10
Not to be confused or intimidated by a team named after great monsters of Japanese legend, Celtic took on the Kaiju and toppled them without the aid of scientists, missiles, Matthew Broderick, Bryan Cranston, Eleven from Stranger Things, or an air force. Murmurrings of discontent as we huffed and puffed for half an hour before pinning them in properly and doing the business. Credit to the players for keeping the head and executing the gameplan; we've seen before how teams set up to frustrate in Europe can sap the will of a team and sneak a win; like this Gojira mob did in Macedonia. But we were slick and relentless and broke their will and spine. It looks like we will be into round 3 barring a disastrous sequel where Mothra brings down the Celtic's charter jet. Sushi all round!
Sandman Out. Far out.
"For what profits a man if he gains the whole world but loses his own soul?"
Greetin' Huns.
"Nothing. But I want to make you smelly bigoted nazis bleed out. Slowly."
Pope Mike Ashley.
BANE: 8/10
Did he turn up? Did anybody see him? At some point he might have been distracted from the new godawful
lesbian Batwoman trailer but his villainous services to the greater good were not required. Probably the
easiest Champions League night he'll ever have.
AJER: 8/10
The Techno Viking wasn't faffing around. Thundering into challenges and rampaging forward at any given opportunity. Shouldered in the opener - I thought Sparky headered it onto him, but as I was blootered in a bar somewwhere in Gran Canaria I'm not claiming definitive analysis on that one. The big lad's mindset was most impressive - focussed and driving the team on; future captain.
JOZO: 7/10
Enjoyed a bit of a wrestle with their handy Brazilian striker. After losing him early on, gulag rules found their way
into play and a choke-hold later Jozo was back in control. Nothing more to do for the Celt's enforcer other than look threatening and cast an eye to the heavens for Kenny Miller passing overhead.
BOLIWOOD: 5/10
Started well but the weight of carrying Sincy's hairstyle caught up with him and he was retired like a gold-mine donkey as his legs went; 'due to illness' was a given reason for his early substitution. Translation - has been philandering with a durty burd from Vicky's and caught a dose.
BITTON: 7/10
Lovely footballer, easy night. Languid style almost fools you into thinking he's dozing but then the guile comes into play and the lang streak o' class has turned defence into attack with a surgically crafted ball you'd have less chance
of envisioning than Alfredo Morelos with surgical breast enhancement and foppish wig riding a bikini-clad Andy halliday into battle in front of thousands of baying, slobbering orcs during an Ibrox fund-raising re-enactment of the Boyne.
BROON: 7/10
Roughed them up a bit, realised we were going to pump them and settled into his usual tidy captain's role. Nearly scored but for a wonder save/flukey bit of 'keeping. Refused to let the heads go down as we toiled to open the scoring. Another consistently affective performance.
CALMAC: 7/10
Not quite his silky self for the most part as passes blipped off course and he didn't quite float into dangerous spaces. Then, of course, as it does for quality players at some point - his game synched-up and he scored a peach, another zipping drive that skidded past the startled keeper. He should have scored two, for the simple reason that I had a tenner on him at 28/1 to do so. Apologies for the curse, Calmac.
CHRISTIE: 8.5/10 MOTM
Jings, young Corpus has brought some verve back into our attacking play. And he's taking penalties now. And delivering killer crosses from dead-balls. And bending in screamers with his cultured left peg. He is omnipotent, like his dad. And I don't mean Charlie.
FORREST: 6.5/10
Still not bursting them open, though he's bursting a gut trying. Jamesy's final touch is still escaping him at vital moments but everything else is there - pace, movement and vision; he sees how he wants to expose the opposition but his execution is frustrating him - and us - right now. A total contrast to the other kind of exposure Jamesy executes in spectacular fashion. Ladies...
GRIFF - 7.5/10
The Spark is back. Not easy to regain such a level of mentalness when you've been suffering, well, mentally... but he's too mad to keep down for long and The Griff lit up the night with a free-kick out of his 'Pure Brullyant Freekiks' book; With illustrations, obviously. A very, very promising rehabilitation may be unfolding before our happy eyes. His evening was marred only by him not yet remembering how long a game lasts and wandering off at approximately the end of a Game Of Thrones episode, which he's spent the past months box-setting. Luckily Lennony was sharp enough to throw on a sub and save Sparky too much embarrassment.
FRENCH EDDY - 7/10
Le Mercurial Gaul didn't score! Outrageous limelight-shirking as he let Sparky take the plaudits. Is there a partnership brewing to destroy SPL defences? Too early to tell, although it was good to see Eddy dropping off so readily and getitng space and time to slalom at the defence. On paper the Eddy/Sparky combination is exciting. If they click onfield it will be scintillating.
SUBS:
MIKEY J - 7/10
New-romanticised the hell out of them, twisting defenders inside-out, just lacked a killer ball/strike to ice his evening.
MORGAN FREEMAN JR. - 5/10
Where you goin', Lewis? Karaoke Dembele's question hung in the night air as Morgan's boy ran up some cul-de-sacs,. Strived but found little space or chang eout of a packed defence.
MUTHUFUCKIN SAM JACKSON - N/A
Muthufucka's back! Strolled on for a final few minutes like a swaggerin' muthufucka lookin' for a muthufucka to muthufuck-up. Applied himself like a muthufuckin' pro and is not in the business of hidin' like a muthufucka. If this muthufucka would waken up to the idea of lingerin' around for a muthufuckin' season then we'd be bebefitin' from a muthufuckin' ace up our sleeve when the goin' gits tough.
If he's still set on disappearin' like a mutuhfucka then make it soon, June, and get as many muthufuckin' bucks for the muthufucka as we muthufuckin' can before the muthufucka muthufuckin' upsets the muthufuckin' dressing-room environment if he's moanin' like a muthufucka. Moderate that, mutuhfuckas...
)LENNONY - 8/10
Saw the bookies odds, set up to destroy them, got it right. Kept his cool and kept the team on track. He's experienced enough to know we would eventually pick them off. Forced into subs he might otherwise have kept cold; we had three wingers on the park at one point. But it looks like he has stage two cleared in a welcome, drama-free, clinical manner.
OVERALL - 8/10
Not to be confused or intimidated by a team named after great monsters of Japanese legend, Celtic took on the Kaiju and toppled them without the aid of scientists, missiles, Matthew Broderick, Bryan Cranston, Eleven from Stranger Things, or an air force. Murmurrings of discontent as we huffed and puffed for half an hour before pinning them in properly and doing the business. Credit to the players for keeping the head and executing the gameplan; we've seen before how teams set up to frustrate in Europe can sap the will of a team and sneak a win; like this Gojira mob did in Macedonia. But we were slick and relentless and broke their will and spine. It looks like we will be into round 3 barring a disastrous sequel where Mothra brings down the Celtic's charter jet. Sushi all round!
Sandman Out. Far out.
