Sandman
Well-known member
SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC V MOUNTAIN MEN
"We very sorry 'bout shutting down city cerebrations 'cause of
killer-beer virus; lesson learned - always put lime in neck of
Corona bottle.
But So many dragon, firework, and effigies of Rodgers and Novo
we got to trash now. It daym murufruckin shame as Sam Jackson
say."
Xi Jinping, Chinese President.
"Who fucking machine-guns cows?"
'Huns with extra bullets'.
Privates Uncredited Soldiers, back-of-truck scene, 1917.
Great film.
THE WALL - 7/10
Astounded by the ball actually approaching him in a home game
against Ross County. Not that much to do, per say, mainly because
of their finishing.
But no doubt it was pretty much heart-in-mouth time for him, too,
as the defence flounced around like Richard Gough at a Pride march.
Great save second-half as his workload multiplied tenfold from
expected traffic levels. Wore the perplexed expression of a guy
who's accidentally wandered into a maternity ward and been handed
a wean.
BAUER - 6/10
So well groomed, his opponents thought him a woman and a couple
attempted to huckle him onto the team bus back to the Heelans
for a midnight 'spoils of southern raiding' betrothal, as marital
custom dictates up there.
They would have been dazzled by his swooshing play as he settled
well into the spot vacated as Pingpong recovers from his Ayrshire
decapitation.
Solid enough and willing to support jamesy with more measured
defensive instinct than Johny. Competent, without matching the
glamour of his heid.
JULLIEN CLARY - 6/10
Repeter d'mercredi? Nope. Nearly. Great chance first-half from a
Sparky
delivery, but this free header rammed itself in the keeper's throat.
Oddly disconcerted by our set-up, he seemed at sea when they sprang
runners at him from deep; perhaps lack of time alongside Jozo caused
distraction or perhaps it was just those woad-painted cannibals rushing
him like banshees out of the woods, but he never looked in confident
control of our backline.
HAYES - 5.5/10
On a mission like the corporal in 1917, our able deputy Hayes took it
upon himself to provide the only telling wing play early on as Jamesy
got used to a new decade.
Trouble was, they sussed his wing-back instincts were going to leave a
lot of space on our left flank and we suffered, almost terminally. Between
a rock and a hard place, he was unusually careless with his passing and
final ball.
JOZO - 5.5/10
What's this? Grass? Just after adjusting his central processor to
artificial environment mode, our Terminator gets thrown onto an organic
surface. And it took at least 45 minutes for his software to update.
Second 45 he looked more like his composed self, as far as a disjointed
performance allowed.
BROON - 6/10
Angrier and angrier the captain burned, as all around him lost their
heads...And like a sea-shanty verse, Broon got the runaround first-half
as their homework paid off and they sprang at us readily.
It was a slow, slow burn for him, holding together an uneasy alliance
in midfield as 'The Coonty' used hillbilly voodoo to unsettle our
rhythm. He'll be glad it's done unscathed and he can look to aright
the lame engine-room performance midweek.
CALMAC - 6/10
'I wish McGregor was playing. Fuck, there he is. Whit's he up to -
he's got the ball in his hands?'
"A penalty/ Whit's that? is that no' one ay they things whit
the Huns get?"
Ref Clancy loses his fucking mind, awards a penalty to the fenians...
And... Skelp, 1-0!
Nice way to announce himself. If only he been more advanced, but was
held in check by Mikey J's inclusion and Sam Jackson's role in front
of him. Never exerted the influence you'd expect against a mob like
them.
SAM JACKSON - 5/10
How many Muthufuckas in row does it take to handle some agricultural
muthufuckasthrough a Scottish wionter? Answer, THIS Muthufucka, three
times a start, three times a win, baby. Stickin' around for the end
of the pound or vay-catin' the station before the Ninth stop?
Today that segue style the Mutuhufukca brings was swamped in a
malfunctioning, reserved performance midfield to back; too much
standing-off opponents, not knowing to stick or twist when this
Muthufucka is best deployed sticking some muthufuckas daym good.
Still think he's best switching with Calmac and providing the link
between Broon and an advanced Podgy Pirlo.
FORREST - 6/10
Jamesy announced himself to 2020 with a header. What were the odds?
But in defiance of the paranormal, it produced not a goal but a tremendous
save. Jamesy stood astounded, not with the goalie's miraculous effort,
but that a football bounced off his heid.
First time for everything, said the Prestwick Flying Flasher to the glass
collector, but that's another tale. Today all we wanted was more of the
same - Jamesy winning matches for us - as we struggled to get a stranglehold.
Like Mikey J, his pace and trickery was more telling as their energy reserves
depleted.
MIKEY J - 6/10
A risk? An anonymous risk as the match threatened to by pass him completely.
Then, wriggle-room and he draws a vital pen. Followe dup by a more confident
New Wave Child in the second half, maybe could have gotten on the scoresheet.
In tough domestic chores like this he can float about like a luxury until he
gets involved and in possession regularly. Same can be levelled at Jamesy
ocassionally, and certainly a few of seasons ago, although with maturity he's
evolved that intermittent time with the ball into matchwinning contributions.
Will the same come of Mikey? Will he get/do we have the time to wait and see?
These conundrums will be answered but until then we take him as we get him -
like an album from an 80s band you're not sure are the real deal or gimmiky
pish; full of enthusing, memorable tracks that may endure long in the meory
and cement it as a work of art, but padded out with flimsty, unconvincing
efforts. He's going to be an Ocean Rain or a Zenyatta Mondatta (Shut up, no
- it was shite).
GRIFF - 5.5/10
Damn, what a waste - carried a packet of Monster Munch down his shorts all
game ready for a memorable celebration. or did he? ladies...
Still appearing short of ultimate sharpness, a lonely furrow was ploughed
sniffing out few genuine chances. Knackered himself taking over three thousand
corners, gave way just in time to chuck some tape at a moaning old fella in
the stand. That'll shut Rod up.
SUBS:
FRENCH EDDY - 9/10 MOTM
Cue Eddy, cue the Roses. A rhyme in time. Nonchalant stoopped header then
beautiful feet and the smackdown was complete. The matchwinning Gaul with
the nose for goal, moves like mercury, with instinct unearthly, gets ye
waxing lyrical like some poofy French poet, and ye don't even fucking know
it... Fin.
ROGIC - 6/10
Amble time for Big Oz. tuning in those feet for mor epressing requirements,
showed some dazzle and style in his cameo.
KARAOKE - N/A
The first of many appearances as the spring nears? More time for the miniature
Moussa please, Lennonoy.
LENNONY - 7/10
Guess again, muthufuckas, it's shuffle time. Again. Did we start a little
lightweight against stoic, lumbering opposition out to stifle? And there's
the recurring facepalm of our main striker - ONLY striker- taking half a
dozen corners in the first half hour.
And our midfield always defers whe we're playing two wingers and space needs
left for them cutting in; no muthufucka nor Calmac padding out the room high
enough means a lack of game-control until we insist on the discipline of
maintaining the fly-bhoys wide.
Still, the 'lucky' substitution that other managers are acclaimed tactical
geniuses for - The Snake throwing Eddy on at the Klan Hut to win the game 3-2,
greeters? - proved Lennonoy did have his finger on the weak pulse and DID make
the change perfectly. We escaped with a decent win, he escaped the piety of
the self-righteous.
Plenty of questions about selection and subs but there's the matter of
Wednesday looming, so rinse and repeat those queries becasue there will no
doubt be more to add come Perth's selection and deployment. Today, a win as
expected in his no-win game. Fine. Move on.
OVERALL - 6/10
So we let a run-of-the-mill league game turn into a cup tie by our one glaring
weakness - complacency. At this crucial stage of the NINE, there's really no excuse
for a team barely a dozen games from legendary status NOT to come roaring out the
traps at every first whistle from now 'til June.
The Heelan' Hingmys created more chances than the stumps on their paws, or away
supporters, as they used the law of surprise to almost snatch out favourite offspring
- that title trophy - from our grasp (see what I did there, Witcher watchers?).
But the record books will show a comprehensive 3-0 victory backed up by a million
corners. There's enough concern to keep the chatter busy until St.Johnstone, but
ultimately you can't have perfection every time. Like Mick told you - you can't always
get what you want. What you can get is three crucial points. Fair deal, Satan. But we
don't need to sell our souls, he's already in them...
Sandman. For the hell of it.
"We very sorry 'bout shutting down city cerebrations 'cause of
killer-beer virus; lesson learned - always put lime in neck of
Corona bottle.
But So many dragon, firework, and effigies of Rodgers and Novo
we got to trash now. It daym murufruckin shame as Sam Jackson
say."
Xi Jinping, Chinese President.
"Who fucking machine-guns cows?"
'Huns with extra bullets'.
Privates Uncredited Soldiers, back-of-truck scene, 1917.
Great film.
THE WALL - 7/10
Astounded by the ball actually approaching him in a home game
against Ross County. Not that much to do, per say, mainly because
of their finishing.
But no doubt it was pretty much heart-in-mouth time for him, too,
as the defence flounced around like Richard Gough at a Pride march.
Great save second-half as his workload multiplied tenfold from
expected traffic levels. Wore the perplexed expression of a guy
who's accidentally wandered into a maternity ward and been handed
a wean.
BAUER - 6/10
So well groomed, his opponents thought him a woman and a couple
attempted to huckle him onto the team bus back to the Heelans
for a midnight 'spoils of southern raiding' betrothal, as marital
custom dictates up there.
They would have been dazzled by his swooshing play as he settled
well into the spot vacated as Pingpong recovers from his Ayrshire
decapitation.
Solid enough and willing to support jamesy with more measured
defensive instinct than Johny. Competent, without matching the
glamour of his heid.
JULLIEN CLARY - 6/10
Repeter d'mercredi? Nope. Nearly. Great chance first-half from a
Sparky
delivery, but this free header rammed itself in the keeper's throat.
Oddly disconcerted by our set-up, he seemed at sea when they sprang
runners at him from deep; perhaps lack of time alongside Jozo caused
distraction or perhaps it was just those woad-painted cannibals rushing
him like banshees out of the woods, but he never looked in confident
control of our backline.
HAYES - 5.5/10
On a mission like the corporal in 1917, our able deputy Hayes took it
upon himself to provide the only telling wing play early on as Jamesy
got used to a new decade.
Trouble was, they sussed his wing-back instincts were going to leave a
lot of space on our left flank and we suffered, almost terminally. Between
a rock and a hard place, he was unusually careless with his passing and
final ball.
JOZO - 5.5/10
What's this? Grass? Just after adjusting his central processor to
artificial environment mode, our Terminator gets thrown onto an organic
surface. And it took at least 45 minutes for his software to update.
Second 45 he looked more like his composed self, as far as a disjointed
performance allowed.
BROON - 6/10
Angrier and angrier the captain burned, as all around him lost their
heads...And like a sea-shanty verse, Broon got the runaround first-half
as their homework paid off and they sprang at us readily.
It was a slow, slow burn for him, holding together an uneasy alliance
in midfield as 'The Coonty' used hillbilly voodoo to unsettle our
rhythm. He'll be glad it's done unscathed and he can look to aright
the lame engine-room performance midweek.
CALMAC - 6/10
'I wish McGregor was playing. Fuck, there he is. Whit's he up to -
he's got the ball in his hands?'
"A penalty/ Whit's that? is that no' one ay they things whit
the Huns get?"
Ref Clancy loses his fucking mind, awards a penalty to the fenians...
And... Skelp, 1-0!
Nice way to announce himself. If only he been more advanced, but was
held in check by Mikey J's inclusion and Sam Jackson's role in front
of him. Never exerted the influence you'd expect against a mob like
them.
SAM JACKSON - 5/10
How many Muthufuckas in row does it take to handle some agricultural
muthufuckasthrough a Scottish wionter? Answer, THIS Muthufucka, three
times a start, three times a win, baby. Stickin' around for the end
of the pound or vay-catin' the station before the Ninth stop?
Today that segue style the Mutuhufukca brings was swamped in a
malfunctioning, reserved performance midfield to back; too much
standing-off opponents, not knowing to stick or twist when this
Muthufucka is best deployed sticking some muthufuckas daym good.
Still think he's best switching with Calmac and providing the link
between Broon and an advanced Podgy Pirlo.
FORREST - 6/10
Jamesy announced himself to 2020 with a header. What were the odds?
But in defiance of the paranormal, it produced not a goal but a tremendous
save. Jamesy stood astounded, not with the goalie's miraculous effort,
but that a football bounced off his heid.
First time for everything, said the Prestwick Flying Flasher to the glass
collector, but that's another tale. Today all we wanted was more of the
same - Jamesy winning matches for us - as we struggled to get a stranglehold.
Like Mikey J, his pace and trickery was more telling as their energy reserves
depleted.
MIKEY J - 6/10
A risk? An anonymous risk as the match threatened to by pass him completely.
Then, wriggle-room and he draws a vital pen. Followe dup by a more confident
New Wave Child in the second half, maybe could have gotten on the scoresheet.
In tough domestic chores like this he can float about like a luxury until he
gets involved and in possession regularly. Same can be levelled at Jamesy
ocassionally, and certainly a few of seasons ago, although with maturity he's
evolved that intermittent time with the ball into matchwinning contributions.
Will the same come of Mikey? Will he get/do we have the time to wait and see?
These conundrums will be answered but until then we take him as we get him -
like an album from an 80s band you're not sure are the real deal or gimmiky
pish; full of enthusing, memorable tracks that may endure long in the meory
and cement it as a work of art, but padded out with flimsty, unconvincing
efforts. He's going to be an Ocean Rain or a Zenyatta Mondatta (Shut up, no
- it was shite).
GRIFF - 5.5/10
Damn, what a waste - carried a packet of Monster Munch down his shorts all
game ready for a memorable celebration. or did he? ladies...
Still appearing short of ultimate sharpness, a lonely furrow was ploughed
sniffing out few genuine chances. Knackered himself taking over three thousand
corners, gave way just in time to chuck some tape at a moaning old fella in
the stand. That'll shut Rod up.
SUBS:
FRENCH EDDY - 9/10 MOTM
Cue Eddy, cue the Roses. A rhyme in time. Nonchalant stoopped header then
beautiful feet and the smackdown was complete. The matchwinning Gaul with
the nose for goal, moves like mercury, with instinct unearthly, gets ye
waxing lyrical like some poofy French poet, and ye don't even fucking know
it... Fin.
ROGIC - 6/10
Amble time for Big Oz. tuning in those feet for mor epressing requirements,
showed some dazzle and style in his cameo.
KARAOKE - N/A
The first of many appearances as the spring nears? More time for the miniature
Moussa please, Lennonoy.
LENNONY - 7/10
Guess again, muthufuckas, it's shuffle time. Again. Did we start a little
lightweight against stoic, lumbering opposition out to stifle? And there's
the recurring facepalm of our main striker - ONLY striker- taking half a
dozen corners in the first half hour.
And our midfield always defers whe we're playing two wingers and space needs
left for them cutting in; no muthufucka nor Calmac padding out the room high
enough means a lack of game-control until we insist on the discipline of
maintaining the fly-bhoys wide.
Still, the 'lucky' substitution that other managers are acclaimed tactical
geniuses for - The Snake throwing Eddy on at the Klan Hut to win the game 3-2,
greeters? - proved Lennonoy did have his finger on the weak pulse and DID make
the change perfectly. We escaped with a decent win, he escaped the piety of
the self-righteous.
Plenty of questions about selection and subs but there's the matter of
Wednesday looming, so rinse and repeat those queries becasue there will no
doubt be more to add come Perth's selection and deployment. Today, a win as
expected in his no-win game. Fine. Move on.
OVERALL - 6/10
So we let a run-of-the-mill league game turn into a cup tie by our one glaring
weakness - complacency. At this crucial stage of the NINE, there's really no excuse
for a team barely a dozen games from legendary status NOT to come roaring out the
traps at every first whistle from now 'til June.
The Heelan' Hingmys created more chances than the stumps on their paws, or away
supporters, as they used the law of surprise to almost snatch out favourite offspring
- that title trophy - from our grasp (see what I did there, Witcher watchers?).
But the record books will show a comprehensive 3-0 victory backed up by a million
corners. There's enough concern to keep the chatter busy until St.Johnstone, but
ultimately you can't have perfection every time. Like Mick told you - you can't always
get what you want. What you can get is three crucial points. Fair deal, Satan. But we
don't need to sell our souls, he's already in them...
Sandman. For the hell of it.
