Sandman
Well-known member
SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC v MUTHUFUCKINWELL
'At the going down of the Hun, we will remember them.
And laugh.'
Us.
"Whaur's yer poppy, friend?"
'I don't like spinach or Olive Oil, thanks buddy...'
Me, to perplexed poppy-nazi at the door of Tesco.
He'll regret that when his brain stops hurting.
Yuk yuk yuk!
'I just cannot help myself. I tingle all over... - The Broon,
he is my new sex fantasy. May Grandfather forgive me
my deviance..."
Alessandra Mussolini
THE WALL - 6/10
He's become a Great Wall of remembrance already in his few
months back, so it was fititng he was allowed to rest in peace
today. Almost. Kept alert by some unforseen drama in our box
on a handful of occasions, coped as per.
PINGPONG - 7/10
Missed Sam Jackson's late winner in Rome because it was past
his bedtime. But after all his pals told him about it in assembly
Friday morning, he had the Bhoys recreate it for him on the
training pitch later on.
Recalled to boost the energy levels of both team and crowd.
Wriggled through them at will first half and maintained his
discipline second despite getting it rough from both them
and the Hun with the whistle.
Wee dynamo notches up another winning run-out.
AJER - 7.5/10
Lauded in Valhalla as the Viking who took on the Gladiators
and won.As tales are woven into tapestries about our young
Ironside, he continues to defy his youth and turn in consummate
displays of minimalism; in the sense that playing defence for
Celtic in the SPL is a no-win position - you either fuck-up or
you do not fuck-up. There is no middle ground.
Perfection with no mistakes is expected, errors are crucified.
21-year-old lads are considered experienced, infallible pros.
Thankfully, big Kris considers himself an experienced, infallible
pro and looks like he demands such every time he sees a mirror.
Wasn't even quoted at the start of last season, now he's turning
in games like today - fulfilling everyone's expectations and often
more.
JULLIEN CLARY - 7/10
He certainly loks like he's enjoying himself. 23rd min turn deep
in our half, as they say en Francais, 'Le cool as fuck.' Looked like
he might score with headers a couple of times venturing up, but
didn't connect properly; good lad, never got the bet on...
Physically, early season powder-puff worries have now been
dismissed as he tanks burly hoods around at will. VVD MkII
prototype developing nicely.
HAYES - 8.5/10 MOTM
As somebody who's fought in every war on the planet, world
or civil since .. Well, time has no meaning to quantum-leaping
Jonny. It was fitting he took his place on such a Sunday.
And he started like he'd been sent over the top. Again. Though
the foe today was distinctly more ugly than he's seen. Good
support up the left all game, creating and filling danger zones -
cracked a shot off the keeper's fists on half-time to remind us all
he was potent in attack when wearing the red woolies of the Sheep.
Then he fires in the second off Tait - well, let's give it to Tait for the
finish off Jonny's cross; he may be our January signing to backup
Eddy...
But let's give the MOTM to Jonny for being the tireless ordinary
soldier who stepped up today and became the brigada leader
who drove us to a crucial victory. Partisan Hayes, we salute you.
BROON - 7.5/10
Here's a captian that stays in the trenches with his men, who
doesn't hide in the shipyards when the going gets tough...
Here's a man who's done, finished, had his day, still demanding
his side outlast him and play, play, play. Incredible engine, looks
like he's not stopped since Rome. Conserved his energies well
today, dropped ten yards to solidify mid to back, planned his
own game to perfection.
Two weeks downtime and he'll be fizzing to go again right
through to 2020.
SAM JACKSON - 8/10
Ah'm gonna turn your Remembrance Sunday into a righteous
Motherin' Sunday - a Muthufuckin' Murderwell Murderin'
Muthufuckin' Sunday, Muthufuckas...
The black muslim son of immigrants who slayed fat fascist
bastard murderer Musollini's XI - ah karmic irony... - brought
his righteous muthufuckery home to banjo the Lanarkshire Huns.
An' his muthufuckin' distribution - like the Muthufucka got his
'Mister nine-millimeter' in his daym boot, pepperin' accurate
killer-balls inside their full-backs all day.
Some Muthufuckas around me don't think he's a fit for 'the
Christie role'. Right you are, Muthufuckas - different Muthufuckas
entirely. Rampaging Ryan ain't got the pivotal nous of Sam L.,
and The Muthufucka ain't got the incisive penetration of Corpus.
Muthufucuka played the exact role we needed - the hitman
in control of the muthufuckin' situation, keepin' every Muthufucka
cool like Fonzi as we faced a second 45 with Lazio-lag creeping
in against a competent cadre of grim-set muthufuckas.
Quality job done, Muthufucka? Correctamundo.
CALMAC - 6.5/10
He shall not rest. So metronomically perpetual that piano teachers
worldwide structure lessons around his Celtic performances. First
time he's looked weary - drifted a few uncharacteristic long balls
off course.
But with Sam L in there to do the shuttling, he was allowed space
and time to sit nearer Broon and dictate without being required
to inject bursts from the middle or cover fro Corpus' expeditions
forward.
Good management and tactics? Deniers? Deniers? Bueller?
Bueller?...
FORREST - 5.5/10
Nazi-hunter, slayer, quiet hero of our age. Jamesy doesn't
need much of an opening or time - he'll wreck you in a flash,
as they now know in the bars of Rome. Not happening today
as his pistons packed it in on the hour - he'll need to take it
easy over the next fortnight to freshen up; shouldn't be a
problem as he'll be with Scotland...
ELSHAGYONLASSIE - 6/10
Has an astonishing ability to materialise out of obscurity
and garnish a match with moments of quality. He needs
a chef hat and a French accent to compliment that
transformational ability as run-of-the-mill SPL stodge
becomes a delicious treat.
He somehow manages NOT to look a proposition then does
something sinmple that is yet fluid and brilliant. And then
he over-elaborates and everyone's moaning again, like his
early chance today.
Thing is, he doesn't stop. He'll keep on trying in the assured
certainty his skill will prevail; Thursday, yes; today, like
Jamesy, he found his edge a tad blunted.
FRENCH EDDY - 7.5/10
The mercury is cooling with the temperatures. Our quicksilver
looks like he needs a breather, which he won't get anytime soon,
so somebody's going to have to provide light relief. Aye, right...
Sentiments of handwringers.
17 minutes, BANG! loose ball, slams it high into the pokey. Rest
of game he floated around their lines, troublesome as a reader
at a ludge meeting. Now, what's French for 'International
call-off...'
SUBS:
MORGAN FEEMAN Jr. - N/A
Obviously getting engaged to a Lennony family member, or keeps winning
Rock,Paper,Scissors versus KNOWN MURDERWELL SKELPER Sincy for the coveted
'token-bench-sitting-thrown-on-late-for-win-bonus' position.
CORPUS - 6/10
Relegated to the bench as punishment for rejecting three requests from the
Pope for an audience, or maybe something to do with a knee problem. Son of
Man replaced the Prestwick Prodigy and busied himself shoring up the middle.
LENNONY - 8/10
Task on Thursday - try for a spot in the carnival parade. Task today - keep the
train on the tracks. He resisted temptation to shuffle more than necessary and
got the required level of performance from his drained choices to hit seven wins
on the trot, two of which came against Serie A opponents, and injuries seem
minimal enough to absord. Phew. Nothing more he could have done. Satisfaction
achieved. That's what she said...
OVERALL - 8/10
A perfectly-observed minutes silence ramps up the Huns perma-rage before we'd
even kicked a ball. SMSM hacks weeping in the press box. Bill Leckie doubled over,
attempting a less than subtle impresison of Edgar Bergen, coughing like fuck.
Had to be on our toes against a well-organised bunch of pseudo-zombies pressing
us high. There were a few hairy moments. However, Broon sat deep to preserve tired
legs. They needed killed-off without a reanimation option and in true mimicry of
their Govan relations, they killed themselves off early second-half. Lulz.
So we hit another fortnight break - jee-sus. And as Dave King runs off with the
poppy funds we're still first despite the SMSM attempting to introduce playground
rules - we lost 0-2 to Livi, Huns won 2-0 so they get top, never mind that pesky
goal-difference thing...
Today was a good professional effort. We'll win the NINE by at least 9.
Remembrance that.
Go away Now.
Sandman to hibernation.
'At the going down of the Hun, we will remember them.
And laugh.'
Us.
"Whaur's yer poppy, friend?"
'I don't like spinach or Olive Oil, thanks buddy...'
Me, to perplexed poppy-nazi at the door of Tesco.
He'll regret that when his brain stops hurting.
Yuk yuk yuk!
'I just cannot help myself. I tingle all over... - The Broon,
he is my new sex fantasy. May Grandfather forgive me
my deviance..."
Alessandra Mussolini
THE WALL - 6/10
He's become a Great Wall of remembrance already in his few
months back, so it was fititng he was allowed to rest in peace
today. Almost. Kept alert by some unforseen drama in our box
on a handful of occasions, coped as per.
PINGPONG - 7/10
Missed Sam Jackson's late winner in Rome because it was past
his bedtime. But after all his pals told him about it in assembly
Friday morning, he had the Bhoys recreate it for him on the
training pitch later on.
Recalled to boost the energy levels of both team and crowd.
Wriggled through them at will first half and maintained his
discipline second despite getting it rough from both them
and the Hun with the whistle.
Wee dynamo notches up another winning run-out.
AJER - 7.5/10
Lauded in Valhalla as the Viking who took on the Gladiators
and won.As tales are woven into tapestries about our young
Ironside, he continues to defy his youth and turn in consummate
displays of minimalism; in the sense that playing defence for
Celtic in the SPL is a no-win position - you either fuck-up or
you do not fuck-up. There is no middle ground.
Perfection with no mistakes is expected, errors are crucified.
21-year-old lads are considered experienced, infallible pros.
Thankfully, big Kris considers himself an experienced, infallible
pro and looks like he demands such every time he sees a mirror.
Wasn't even quoted at the start of last season, now he's turning
in games like today - fulfilling everyone's expectations and often
more.
JULLIEN CLARY - 7/10
He certainly loks like he's enjoying himself. 23rd min turn deep
in our half, as they say en Francais, 'Le cool as fuck.' Looked like
he might score with headers a couple of times venturing up, but
didn't connect properly; good lad, never got the bet on...
Physically, early season powder-puff worries have now been
dismissed as he tanks burly hoods around at will. VVD MkII
prototype developing nicely.
HAYES - 8.5/10 MOTM
As somebody who's fought in every war on the planet, world
or civil since .. Well, time has no meaning to quantum-leaping
Jonny. It was fitting he took his place on such a Sunday.
And he started like he'd been sent over the top. Again. Though
the foe today was distinctly more ugly than he's seen. Good
support up the left all game, creating and filling danger zones -
cracked a shot off the keeper's fists on half-time to remind us all
he was potent in attack when wearing the red woolies of the Sheep.
Then he fires in the second off Tait - well, let's give it to Tait for the
finish off Jonny's cross; he may be our January signing to backup
Eddy...
But let's give the MOTM to Jonny for being the tireless ordinary
soldier who stepped up today and became the brigada leader
who drove us to a crucial victory. Partisan Hayes, we salute you.
BROON - 7.5/10
Here's a captian that stays in the trenches with his men, who
doesn't hide in the shipyards when the going gets tough...
Here's a man who's done, finished, had his day, still demanding
his side outlast him and play, play, play. Incredible engine, looks
like he's not stopped since Rome. Conserved his energies well
today, dropped ten yards to solidify mid to back, planned his
own game to perfection.
Two weeks downtime and he'll be fizzing to go again right
through to 2020.
SAM JACKSON - 8/10
Ah'm gonna turn your Remembrance Sunday into a righteous
Motherin' Sunday - a Muthufuckin' Murderwell Murderin'
Muthufuckin' Sunday, Muthufuckas...
The black muslim son of immigrants who slayed fat fascist
bastard murderer Musollini's XI - ah karmic irony... - brought
his righteous muthufuckery home to banjo the Lanarkshire Huns.
An' his muthufuckin' distribution - like the Muthufucka got his
'Mister nine-millimeter' in his daym boot, pepperin' accurate
killer-balls inside their full-backs all day.
Some Muthufuckas around me don't think he's a fit for 'the
Christie role'. Right you are, Muthufuckas - different Muthufuckas
entirely. Rampaging Ryan ain't got the pivotal nous of Sam L.,
and The Muthufucka ain't got the incisive penetration of Corpus.
Muthufucuka played the exact role we needed - the hitman
in control of the muthufuckin' situation, keepin' every Muthufucka
cool like Fonzi as we faced a second 45 with Lazio-lag creeping
in against a competent cadre of grim-set muthufuckas.
Quality job done, Muthufucka? Correctamundo.
CALMAC - 6.5/10
He shall not rest. So metronomically perpetual that piano teachers
worldwide structure lessons around his Celtic performances. First
time he's looked weary - drifted a few uncharacteristic long balls
off course.
But with Sam L in there to do the shuttling, he was allowed space
and time to sit nearer Broon and dictate without being required
to inject bursts from the middle or cover fro Corpus' expeditions
forward.
Good management and tactics? Deniers? Deniers? Bueller?
Bueller?...
FORREST - 5.5/10
Nazi-hunter, slayer, quiet hero of our age. Jamesy doesn't
need much of an opening or time - he'll wreck you in a flash,
as they now know in the bars of Rome. Not happening today
as his pistons packed it in on the hour - he'll need to take it
easy over the next fortnight to freshen up; shouldn't be a
problem as he'll be with Scotland...
ELSHAGYONLASSIE - 6/10
Has an astonishing ability to materialise out of obscurity
and garnish a match with moments of quality. He needs
a chef hat and a French accent to compliment that
transformational ability as run-of-the-mill SPL stodge
becomes a delicious treat.
He somehow manages NOT to look a proposition then does
something sinmple that is yet fluid and brilliant. And then
he over-elaborates and everyone's moaning again, like his
early chance today.
Thing is, he doesn't stop. He'll keep on trying in the assured
certainty his skill will prevail; Thursday, yes; today, like
Jamesy, he found his edge a tad blunted.
FRENCH EDDY - 7.5/10
The mercury is cooling with the temperatures. Our quicksilver
looks like he needs a breather, which he won't get anytime soon,
so somebody's going to have to provide light relief. Aye, right...
Sentiments of handwringers.
17 minutes, BANG! loose ball, slams it high into the pokey. Rest
of game he floated around their lines, troublesome as a reader
at a ludge meeting. Now, what's French for 'International
call-off...'
SUBS:
MORGAN FEEMAN Jr. - N/A
Obviously getting engaged to a Lennony family member, or keeps winning
Rock,Paper,Scissors versus KNOWN MURDERWELL SKELPER Sincy for the coveted
'token-bench-sitting-thrown-on-late-for-win-bonus' position.
CORPUS - 6/10
Relegated to the bench as punishment for rejecting three requests from the
Pope for an audience, or maybe something to do with a knee problem. Son of
Man replaced the Prestwick Prodigy and busied himself shoring up the middle.
LENNONY - 8/10
Task on Thursday - try for a spot in the carnival parade. Task today - keep the
train on the tracks. He resisted temptation to shuffle more than necessary and
got the required level of performance from his drained choices to hit seven wins
on the trot, two of which came against Serie A opponents, and injuries seem
minimal enough to absord. Phew. Nothing more he could have done. Satisfaction
achieved. That's what she said...
OVERALL - 8/10
A perfectly-observed minutes silence ramps up the Huns perma-rage before we'd
even kicked a ball. SMSM hacks weeping in the press box. Bill Leckie doubled over,
attempting a less than subtle impresison of Edgar Bergen, coughing like fuck.
Had to be on our toes against a well-organised bunch of pseudo-zombies pressing
us high. There were a few hairy moments. However, Broon sat deep to preserve tired
legs. They needed killed-off without a reanimation option and in true mimicry of
their Govan relations, they killed themselves off early second-half. Lulz.
So we hit another fortnight break - jee-sus. And as Dave King runs off with the
poppy funds we're still first despite the SMSM attempting to introduce playground
rules - we lost 0-2 to Livi, Huns won 2-0 so they get top, never mind that pesky
goal-difference thing...
Today was a good professional effort. We'll win the NINE by at least 9.
Remembrance that.
Go away Now.
Sandman to hibernation.
Last edited:
that should be an easy one 
