Sandman
Well-known member
SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC v SAINT JACK NICKLAUS
"God Bless us, every hooped one!"
- Tiny Tim.
ROXIE - 6.5/10
Nothing much to disturb Joe's wrapping, then a moment of
spontaneity produces a marvellous double-save that sadly
didn't become a treble and deny their consolation.
No Xmas clean sheet for the big hero.
GREGGS THE BAKER - 6.5/10
Played with a rueful smile as much of his industry wasn't
fruitful and promising situations broke down; bit like hot
sausage rolls in his shops being left to cool and idiots
in the queue wanting vegan pish holding up the hungry
meat (well, pseudo-meat...) eaters wanting an after-match
warm-up...
Still, terrific consistency, much like the heat that'll hold
for fifteen minutes if you get a spanking new bake in
time...
STAR LORD - 6.5/10
What's this? A team that will try and have a go? Useful
tuning for the oft wayward Galaxy-saving marauder as he
gets back from injury and looks towards testing away
games. Well, one; Hibs are bouncing back like Alan Partridge
after a choc binge. The one after that? Mockerney-Cockerney
market stall mince...
But Star Lord acquited himself well enough, looking decently
focussed and pointedly dealing with everything coming his
way.
GET CARTER - 6.5/10
It's going to be a tough Christmas dinner in the big man's party den -
the ignomy of taking a yellow for felling a 70s prog rock band sleazy
roadie will take some getting over for a World Cup galactico.
That forgiven, his general presence and footwork was exemplary.
HAKUNA HATATE - 8/10 MOTM
Today, honourable Japanese interchangeable component will cover the
feited ass of The Tiger, and in doing so, plank in a brace and be
the cultured, committed outstanding performer of the revered day
before the western messiah celebration turkey cull.
Many blessings. Yakshemash.
CALMAC - 7/10
Wrastled (sic) like a rodeo-born cattle wrangler midweek to
harness a disjointed second-half midfield. Today, with Aussie
Coolhand Luke beside him the tempo was more restrained in the
deep centre and Calmac took advantage of the extra security
to stroke it around at his leisure; to you and me that's park
kickabout - to him that's game-winning metronomic control.
THE BUILDER - 5.5/10
Can't click, won't click - it's been a frustrating couple of
matches for Son Of Rogic. Ad you can see the frustration
gnawing away as he tries to force the issue.
A fine example of the old fine margins cliche - he's but a touch
off a killer pass, a mental jab off a goal. Like a forgotten Ryan
Kent at a charity Adopt A Goth event, it's just not happening for
him.
MOOEY - 6.5/10
Messi means nothing to him; another fly swatted. Yul Brynner
of the Gallowgate patrolled the mid like a seasoned veteran
gunslinger, no nonsense competence allowing the victory to be
built on uncompromising foundations.
LORD KATSUMOTO - 6/10
Buzzbomb incoming, flashed the warning in the Saints
war-room and they never quite adjusted to the peristence
of his inevitability. Neither did we, though, and the space
he had due to their willingness to push forward wasn't really
exploited properly.
KILLER MUSHROOM - 7/10
Like I said, Wednesday - he's getting there with more and
more frequency. Did anyone see a replay of the header that
seemed to knock over a bovril in the front row before being
deemed not to have crossed the line? At the time of writing,
I've yet to see clarification but y'know, maybe the software
'wasn't working'...
Then, no matter- bang, in he nipped (no pun intended, racist
m'fckers...) and stabbed home a killer, much as with his movement
v Livi; textbook, unstoppable, deadly.
Got the feeling that if the service keeps coming, he's revving
up for a spectacular scoring run that'll put the title within
touching distance before the Huns sacrifice the only virgin in
Mordor (Lundstram) to Persephone, Goddess of the spring.
JAMESY - 6.5/10
Not as spectacular as expected, given his record against the
Perth outfit that reads a bit like Ted Bundy's rap sheet,
but quietly effective; popped up here and there and was always
on offer with clever runs that dragged their defensive shape
around.
We got a good 60 minutes out of him, which isn't bad on Christmas
Eve - a late festive-period time when Jamesy may traditionally
describe himself as being 'hoor-tired' by now.
SUBS -
SON OF JACKIE - N/A
Big rumbling son of a kefefs got on and got in about them
but with nothing much to show for it.
ABADASS - N/A
Midweek star mysteriously benched after Ange disgruntlement.
The day's most mystifying selection issue made a fleeting,
teasing appearance well down the line and we still wonder
if he's being saved or deprived.
EDDIE TURNBULL - N/A
On and off. The last victim of VAR at Celtic Park for the
year gets a red for flashing his knickerbockers at the keeper.
You couldn't make up the pish they try to pass off as
'adjudication'.
HACKY SACK - N/A
Another surprise non-starter but got the feeling he'll be
playing a big role in the festive fun over the next ten days.
NOTEBOOK - N/A
Ineffectual, flouncing about, thinking of Xmas number 1s
and the number 2s he'll be expected to destroy on the 2nd.
ANITA DOBSON - 7.5/10
So Ange wasn't really too chuffed with the Livi show and
threatened to get tough and did so by... Dropping Wednesdy's
best player. Much raising of eyebrows over pints and
murmurred shrugs about 'masterplans', etc.
But whatever gifts the big Aussie Walking Boss requested of his
charges, he got early delivery. Game dusted properly this
time. Angeball vindicated and a second 45 to drop the gears
and think about stuffing; not the standard turkeys tomorrow
- the orange bastard ones Monday week.
MIBBERY - 4/10
Little Britain tried to flag out the 4th and I thought I'd
seen the most cretinous attempt to disrupt Tim flow this month
since... Well, Wednesday...
Until the cringeworthy dismissal of a geriatric who managed
to skim his boot 'chest' high on a keeper diving forward and
down.
The sheer grasping, teeth-grinding Hunnery it takes to call
that decision at the very nadir of a contest well over, is a
classic example of the bitterness they hold within their
rotting black Hun hearts and makes every sip of title-winning
Stella I take taste like honey nectar from the tumescent nipple
of Aphrodite herself.
Roon yeez. Again.
OVERALL - 8/10
More like it. Expectant vibes all around and the Bhoys rollup
in the stripey sleigh to dish out Xmas cheer and a skelping
for the farmhands.
The engine got a service Thursday and Friday and was ticking
over sweetly by Saturday lunchtime. St.Johnstone did themselves
credit by leaving the bus in the car park and attempting to get
forward. Kept us on our toes and made us play for the win from
early; no grind, no labour - Celtic snapped into action and gooses,
turkeys, hams and countryfiles got cooked.
The predictable VAR drama was at a minimum and late, and was
risible spite rather than despicable sabotage; that's what Stein told us,
and what Ange has learnt - outscore them all, officialdom included,
and they'll have no answer.
Enjoy yer days of merriment. Top of the Xmas tree by nine points
and a million goals to the good; golden days indeed. Relish these
times as we roll into what could be a title-defining week ahead.
It might be the most wonderful time of year, but the tune playing
in the background to our games now is Zadoc The Priest.
Merry Christmas, one and all. Well, except you depraved heathen
Hun scum (You know who you are...).
Slainte.
Go Away Now Merrily
Sandman.
"God Bless us, every hooped one!"
- Tiny Tim.
ROXIE - 6.5/10
Nothing much to disturb Joe's wrapping, then a moment of
spontaneity produces a marvellous double-save that sadly
didn't become a treble and deny their consolation.
No Xmas clean sheet for the big hero.
GREGGS THE BAKER - 6.5/10
Played with a rueful smile as much of his industry wasn't
fruitful and promising situations broke down; bit like hot
sausage rolls in his shops being left to cool and idiots
in the queue wanting vegan pish holding up the hungry
meat (well, pseudo-meat...) eaters wanting an after-match
warm-up...
Still, terrific consistency, much like the heat that'll hold
for fifteen minutes if you get a spanking new bake in
time...
STAR LORD - 6.5/10
What's this? A team that will try and have a go? Useful
tuning for the oft wayward Galaxy-saving marauder as he
gets back from injury and looks towards testing away
games. Well, one; Hibs are bouncing back like Alan Partridge
after a choc binge. The one after that? Mockerney-Cockerney
market stall mince...
But Star Lord acquited himself well enough, looking decently
focussed and pointedly dealing with everything coming his
way.
GET CARTER - 6.5/10
It's going to be a tough Christmas dinner in the big man's party den -
the ignomy of taking a yellow for felling a 70s prog rock band sleazy
roadie will take some getting over for a World Cup galactico.
That forgiven, his general presence and footwork was exemplary.
HAKUNA HATATE - 8/10 MOTM
Today, honourable Japanese interchangeable component will cover the
feited ass of The Tiger, and in doing so, plank in a brace and be
the cultured, committed outstanding performer of the revered day
before the western messiah celebration turkey cull.
Many blessings. Yakshemash.
CALMAC - 7/10
Wrastled (sic) like a rodeo-born cattle wrangler midweek to
harness a disjointed second-half midfield. Today, with Aussie
Coolhand Luke beside him the tempo was more restrained in the
deep centre and Calmac took advantage of the extra security
to stroke it around at his leisure; to you and me that's park
kickabout - to him that's game-winning metronomic control.
THE BUILDER - 5.5/10
Can't click, won't click - it's been a frustrating couple of
matches for Son Of Rogic. Ad you can see the frustration
gnawing away as he tries to force the issue.
A fine example of the old fine margins cliche - he's but a touch
off a killer pass, a mental jab off a goal. Like a forgotten Ryan
Kent at a charity Adopt A Goth event, it's just not happening for
him.
MOOEY - 6.5/10
Messi means nothing to him; another fly swatted. Yul Brynner
of the Gallowgate patrolled the mid like a seasoned veteran
gunslinger, no nonsense competence allowing the victory to be
built on uncompromising foundations.
LORD KATSUMOTO - 6/10
Buzzbomb incoming, flashed the warning in the Saints
war-room and they never quite adjusted to the peristence
of his inevitability. Neither did we, though, and the space
he had due to their willingness to push forward wasn't really
exploited properly.
KILLER MUSHROOM - 7/10
Like I said, Wednesday - he's getting there with more and
more frequency. Did anyone see a replay of the header that
seemed to knock over a bovril in the front row before being
deemed not to have crossed the line? At the time of writing,
I've yet to see clarification but y'know, maybe the software
'wasn't working'...
Then, no matter- bang, in he nipped (no pun intended, racist
m'fckers...) and stabbed home a killer, much as with his movement
v Livi; textbook, unstoppable, deadly.
Got the feeling that if the service keeps coming, he's revving
up for a spectacular scoring run that'll put the title within
touching distance before the Huns sacrifice the only virgin in
Mordor (Lundstram) to Persephone, Goddess of the spring.
JAMESY - 6.5/10
Not as spectacular as expected, given his record against the
Perth outfit that reads a bit like Ted Bundy's rap sheet,
but quietly effective; popped up here and there and was always
on offer with clever runs that dragged their defensive shape
around.
We got a good 60 minutes out of him, which isn't bad on Christmas
Eve - a late festive-period time when Jamesy may traditionally
describe himself as being 'hoor-tired' by now.
SUBS -
SON OF JACKIE - N/A
Big rumbling son of a kefefs got on and got in about them
but with nothing much to show for it.
ABADASS - N/A
Midweek star mysteriously benched after Ange disgruntlement.
The day's most mystifying selection issue made a fleeting,
teasing appearance well down the line and we still wonder
if he's being saved or deprived.
EDDIE TURNBULL - N/A
On and off. The last victim of VAR at Celtic Park for the
year gets a red for flashing his knickerbockers at the keeper.
You couldn't make up the pish they try to pass off as
'adjudication'.
HACKY SACK - N/A
Another surprise non-starter but got the feeling he'll be
playing a big role in the festive fun over the next ten days.
NOTEBOOK - N/A
Ineffectual, flouncing about, thinking of Xmas number 1s
and the number 2s he'll be expected to destroy on the 2nd.
ANITA DOBSON - 7.5/10
So Ange wasn't really too chuffed with the Livi show and
threatened to get tough and did so by... Dropping Wednesdy's
best player. Much raising of eyebrows over pints and
murmurred shrugs about 'masterplans', etc.
But whatever gifts the big Aussie Walking Boss requested of his
charges, he got early delivery. Game dusted properly this
time. Angeball vindicated and a second 45 to drop the gears
and think about stuffing; not the standard turkeys tomorrow
- the orange bastard ones Monday week.
MIBBERY - 4/10
Little Britain tried to flag out the 4th and I thought I'd
seen the most cretinous attempt to disrupt Tim flow this month
since... Well, Wednesday...
Until the cringeworthy dismissal of a geriatric who managed
to skim his boot 'chest' high on a keeper diving forward and
down.
The sheer grasping, teeth-grinding Hunnery it takes to call
that decision at the very nadir of a contest well over, is a
classic example of the bitterness they hold within their
rotting black Hun hearts and makes every sip of title-winning
Stella I take taste like honey nectar from the tumescent nipple
of Aphrodite herself.
Roon yeez. Again.
OVERALL - 8/10
More like it. Expectant vibes all around and the Bhoys rollup
in the stripey sleigh to dish out Xmas cheer and a skelping
for the farmhands.
The engine got a service Thursday and Friday and was ticking
over sweetly by Saturday lunchtime. St.Johnstone did themselves
credit by leaving the bus in the car park and attempting to get
forward. Kept us on our toes and made us play for the win from
early; no grind, no labour - Celtic snapped into action and gooses,
turkeys, hams and countryfiles got cooked.
The predictable VAR drama was at a minimum and late, and was
risible spite rather than despicable sabotage; that's what Stein told us,
and what Ange has learnt - outscore them all, officialdom included,
and they'll have no answer.
Enjoy yer days of merriment. Top of the Xmas tree by nine points
and a million goals to the good; golden days indeed. Relish these
times as we roll into what could be a title-defining week ahead.
It might be the most wonderful time of year, but the tune playing
in the background to our games now is Zadoc The Priest.
Merry Christmas, one and all. Well, except you depraved heathen
Hun scum (You know who you are...).
Slainte.
Go Away Now Merrily
Sandman.
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