Sandman
Well-known member
SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC v THE FIRST ORDER: SCHADENFREUDE SUNDAY SPECIAL
"The First Order emerged from the remnants of the Galactic Empire after
the Empire fell at the end of the Galactic Civil War, around 2012. And
Darth Vader's a Hun cunt."
Star Wars Wikipedia.
"The amusing quirks of Alfredo Morelos of The Rangers International FC -
'Cute and squat and pumpably fat', are the saucy views of Elton John on
his favourite little Colombian daydream, the 'Alfie of the North'.
"Puss-ay Bay-bay!" are, brilliantly, the only two words of English our
Alfredo knows, cultivated from his time in the Santo Domingo area of
Medellin, on the cartel drag queen circuit where he encountered many a
British sex tourist while performing in seedy comunas clubs as
'Lay-dee Fuckee-Fuckee', dispensing speedbombs from his ass and oral
favours in equal measure, after-hours in the pool-room blowbang parties.
Those pinchable wee chipmunk cheeks were used to store many a nut, we
can tell you..."
From 'Gay Times World Footballers Wikipedia -True Stats and Facts.'
"What. Even. Is. It?"
David Attenborough sighting Alfredo Morelos, BBC 'The Pumped (Again)
Blue Planet'
THE WALL - 10/10 MOTM
GOD. G-O-D! On yer knees.
Enough said/written. Anything to add, use the reply box. I'm too
busy building a fucking statue.
PINGPONG - 7.5/10
Tennn-shun! Junior Hunskelping classes start Sunday 3pm right after
chapel. Do not be late!
And the wee man was bang on time to earn his first filth-rattling
merit badge. Yet...
Sent off. Fuck off, Gollum, you simpering forelock-tugging
wee HUN. Yes it was a pen, yes it was a card - a YELLOW, NEVER a
red - the Hun was NOT in possession of the ball, nor did it have a
goalscoring opportunity CLEARLY denied. The ricochet was heading in
their general direction.
Sometime wee Wullie Gollum lets his dick, dic-tate...
That aside, young Pingpong was great when many of his experienced
compatriots were PISH. He kept the Koncentration-kamp Kapo Kent quiet
all game. You're a proper Hunskelper now, kid, so revel in it.
AJER - 7/10
Go on, the Techno Viking! Embattled is his favourite state and he spent
90 minutes plus Huntime digging in like the Norse legend in the making
he is.
Only one slip all game - early lunge - but great stalwart resistance when
the chips were down.
JULLIEN CLARY - 7.5/10
'What. Even. Is. It!' he scorned, Attenborough-like as the Morelos thing
hustled up against him like an orphaned sloth with genital herpes looking
for frottage.
Those big casual clown feet turned swiftly into beautiful pinball flippers
to guide in the winner - a moment of historical jhoy for VVD MkII.
His work was cut out being part of the only functioning dimension
of the Celtic side - a defence that thwarted every ball thrown at them
and intevened with a last-ditch boot every time the Huns were pulling
the trigger.
He suffered often during play with the lurgy of the rest - loose balls,
no urgency, no vision. But what a finish...
HAYES - 6.5/10
On a pitch like the Somme in Autumn, our winter soldier showed why
there's so much faith in him as he deployed his honorary Hunskelper
status to yet again prove his worth and stability in the face of
intense pressure. Every defensive player was let-down by their man
ahead and Jonny exemplified the grit and steel of trench warfare as
he took on waves of Huns. And won. Again. Caps doffed.
BROON - 7.5/10
Another game like midweek where he expected to cruise but ended up
scrapping it out. HE doesn't lose. HE wins by any means
necessary.
Hun junkies down Govan environs keep their feral weans in check
while they heat up the spoons with tales of the Boogeyman, Broon.
Trophy-lifting skipper got his hands on that cup by sheer focus and
combative excellence. None of the mythical Hun hardmen got in a
dig/upset his rhythm. So utterly vital today as we tried to hold
it together amid a malfunctioning perofrmance.
Ultimately, when the dust and smir settled, Broon was the last man
standing. With the cup in his grasp. Captain. Leader. FUCKING Legend.
CALMAC - 5/10
Such a disappointment to a girl, or thousand... When we needed
him to take control of the mid and let his class dictate, he...
Disappeared.
Popped up scrapping like a good 'un later but he's better than that
and better than them and better than this journeyman effort.
CORPUS CHRISTIE - 4/10
Oh, Father why have you forsaken me? Not quite crucifixion time
yet, but this was a murderous turn by our matchwinner.
He's so much better than he showed - and he showed FUCK ALL, as
they say in the Old Testament.
It's up to him to impose his physique and class upon these dog-raping
hobos, yet he failed in every aspect that makes his game potent -
timing, tackling, scoring. Nothing played out and he was a shadow of
the bhoy we rely on.
FORREST - 3.5/10
Hey, Jamesy, there's a game on. It's me sat in the pub with the
beers, so no need for you to play like it was you. Terrible turn
from the flashing flop.
ELSHAGYONLASSIE - 3/10
Not fit , not at it, not even close to the surging match-winning
displays we got used to seeing. It was like we got loaned Morelos'
twin for the first-half.
MORGAN FREEMAN JR.- 3/10
Yeah, Dad's ocassionally God, but you're an ex-Hun mascot with
photos Lennony doesn't want revealed, or something similar given
your shoe-horn into bigger games than you can handle ahead of PROVEN
Hunskelpers like Griff and Sincy. FFS, Lennony, give the kid some
breathing room.. .
This one went as expected when the team came out, and it's difficult
to curse the Junior Freeman for a role he is NOT suited for.
Not in games of any magnitude, at least; he's a WINGER, ffs.
SUBS:
FRENCH EDDY - 7/10
French Shreddy as the Huns are getting used to calling him - showed
THE difference and his class when setting up Mikey for his mega-fail.
Played from the start, this game could have been done by half-time.
BITTON - 5.5/10
Appeared with backs to the wall, Big Nir won't shirk that sort of
challenge, and helped shore up the rearguard in lieu of late calamity.
MIKEY J - 5/10
Jeeeeee-sus, Mikey... the entire eighties (well, the majority, save
for FGTH) was all but forgiven as he strode though on French Eddy's
beautiful bit of play and... Missed.
FFS, Mikey, just plant it v THEM and prove the doubters wrong while we
celebrate like the reprieved on death-row.
LENNONY - 6/10
Wow. The stars aligned for Lennony today. That team - all askew and nothing
clicking. NO relief up front as he imagined his favourite nephew would impact
the gurning Hun sides o' beef.
It was a shambles form beginning to end, salvaged only by his crowning decision -
bringing the big bear-buster back from the effette wilderness of Southamptonville
into the fermenting cauldron of Glasgow winter Sunday cup finals to single-handedly
take the trophy.
Lennony was out-guessed and out-pressed by his sneering, luckily smirkless,
Scouse nemesis opposite. Yet, he stayed smooth on the surface and paddled like
the devil underneath as the manager seemed to fall upon the sword of his own
wrong-choosing. But a handful of players were antithetical to the general garbage
we mustered and those guys' moments of class made the ultimate difference.
Thank them, Lennony - for you escaped a pounding.
OVERALL - 7/10
The Wall saves us ALL! On another beautiful Sunday!
We were so poor; Politely. Honestly? Shite. I was blabbing about rope-a-dope
early on but in truth we were the dopes - never off the damn ropes, unable to
impose ourselves or put a constructive move together, let alone dominate a
midfield of journeymen minus their most composed player.
This was shaping like Black Christmas last year and we had NO answer, save for
another brilliant goalkeeping performance - big Gordon saved the skins at Mordor
to an extent and The Wall went one better today, winning the cup on his own.
Shocking performance - probably worse than our Livi effort but, hey - LMFAO!
We WON! First leg of the Quadrophenia treble nailed! Huns demoralised!
And aw, Wee Alfie the scape-drug-mule-thing...
Kudos to the Big Guy, Pingpong, Broon, The Franco sophisticat, the Techno Viking,
and... Well, that's about it. Utter failure as half the team declined to turn up
and those excitable Zombies nearly bust the Glory Bubble.
But they didn't. And that, kids, is what makes a GREAT team - when the creatives
malfunction and you've still got a supporting cast good enough to make the
difference, get the result over the line. Dirty, cheating - ball out by us,
never returned - Hun scum got the big dose of Karma they were due. And Slippy's
never even won a League Cup, neve rmind a league...
Hail, Hail, we nailed the mini-prize and set ourselves for the BIG prize.
They'll never get a better chance to de-rail the Hooped convoy, not with the
Rubber Duck at the wheel...
VICTORY! REJOICE!
QUADROPHENIA TREBLE ON THE CARDS!
Go Away Now.
Sandman. 7 pints and counting.
"The First Order emerged from the remnants of the Galactic Empire after
the Empire fell at the end of the Galactic Civil War, around 2012. And
Darth Vader's a Hun cunt."
Star Wars Wikipedia.
"The amusing quirks of Alfredo Morelos of The Rangers International FC -
'Cute and squat and pumpably fat', are the saucy views of Elton John on
his favourite little Colombian daydream, the 'Alfie of the North'.
"Puss-ay Bay-bay!" are, brilliantly, the only two words of English our
Alfredo knows, cultivated from his time in the Santo Domingo area of
Medellin, on the cartel drag queen circuit where he encountered many a
British sex tourist while performing in seedy comunas clubs as
'Lay-dee Fuckee-Fuckee', dispensing speedbombs from his ass and oral
favours in equal measure, after-hours in the pool-room blowbang parties.
Those pinchable wee chipmunk cheeks were used to store many a nut, we
can tell you..."
From 'Gay Times World Footballers Wikipedia -True Stats and Facts.'
"What. Even. Is. It?"
David Attenborough sighting Alfredo Morelos, BBC 'The Pumped (Again)
Blue Planet'
THE WALL - 10/10 MOTM
GOD. G-O-D! On yer knees.
Enough said/written. Anything to add, use the reply box. I'm too
busy building a fucking statue.
PINGPONG - 7.5/10
Tennn-shun! Junior Hunskelping classes start Sunday 3pm right after
chapel. Do not be late!
And the wee man was bang on time to earn his first filth-rattling
merit badge. Yet...
Sent off. Fuck off, Gollum, you simpering forelock-tugging
wee HUN. Yes it was a pen, yes it was a card - a YELLOW, NEVER a
red - the Hun was NOT in possession of the ball, nor did it have a
goalscoring opportunity CLEARLY denied. The ricochet was heading in
their general direction.
Sometime wee Wullie Gollum lets his dick, dic-tate...
That aside, young Pingpong was great when many of his experienced
compatriots were PISH. He kept the Koncentration-kamp Kapo Kent quiet
all game. You're a proper Hunskelper now, kid, so revel in it.
AJER - 7/10
Go on, the Techno Viking! Embattled is his favourite state and he spent
90 minutes plus Huntime digging in like the Norse legend in the making
he is.
Only one slip all game - early lunge - but great stalwart resistance when
the chips were down.
JULLIEN CLARY - 7.5/10
'What. Even. Is. It!' he scorned, Attenborough-like as the Morelos thing
hustled up against him like an orphaned sloth with genital herpes looking
for frottage.
Those big casual clown feet turned swiftly into beautiful pinball flippers
to guide in the winner - a moment of historical jhoy for VVD MkII.
His work was cut out being part of the only functioning dimension
of the Celtic side - a defence that thwarted every ball thrown at them
and intevened with a last-ditch boot every time the Huns were pulling
the trigger.
He suffered often during play with the lurgy of the rest - loose balls,
no urgency, no vision. But what a finish...
HAYES - 6.5/10
On a pitch like the Somme in Autumn, our winter soldier showed why
there's so much faith in him as he deployed his honorary Hunskelper
status to yet again prove his worth and stability in the face of
intense pressure. Every defensive player was let-down by their man
ahead and Jonny exemplified the grit and steel of trench warfare as
he took on waves of Huns. And won. Again. Caps doffed.
BROON - 7.5/10
Another game like midweek where he expected to cruise but ended up
scrapping it out. HE doesn't lose. HE wins by any means
necessary.
Hun junkies down Govan environs keep their feral weans in check
while they heat up the spoons with tales of the Boogeyman, Broon.
Trophy-lifting skipper got his hands on that cup by sheer focus and
combative excellence. None of the mythical Hun hardmen got in a
dig/upset his rhythm. So utterly vital today as we tried to hold
it together amid a malfunctioning perofrmance.
Ultimately, when the dust and smir settled, Broon was the last man
standing. With the cup in his grasp. Captain. Leader. FUCKING Legend.
CALMAC - 5/10
Such a disappointment to a girl, or thousand... When we needed
him to take control of the mid and let his class dictate, he...
Disappeared.
Popped up scrapping like a good 'un later but he's better than that
and better than them and better than this journeyman effort.
CORPUS CHRISTIE - 4/10
Oh, Father why have you forsaken me? Not quite crucifixion time
yet, but this was a murderous turn by our matchwinner.
He's so much better than he showed - and he showed FUCK ALL, as
they say in the Old Testament.
It's up to him to impose his physique and class upon these dog-raping
hobos, yet he failed in every aspect that makes his game potent -
timing, tackling, scoring. Nothing played out and he was a shadow of
the bhoy we rely on.
FORREST - 3.5/10
Hey, Jamesy, there's a game on. It's me sat in the pub with the
beers, so no need for you to play like it was you. Terrible turn
from the flashing flop.
ELSHAGYONLASSIE - 3/10
Not fit , not at it, not even close to the surging match-winning
displays we got used to seeing. It was like we got loaned Morelos'
twin for the first-half.
MORGAN FREEMAN JR.- 3/10
Yeah, Dad's ocassionally God, but you're an ex-Hun mascot with
photos Lennony doesn't want revealed, or something similar given
your shoe-horn into bigger games than you can handle ahead of PROVEN
Hunskelpers like Griff and Sincy. FFS, Lennony, give the kid some
breathing room.. .
This one went as expected when the team came out, and it's difficult
to curse the Junior Freeman for a role he is NOT suited for.
Not in games of any magnitude, at least; he's a WINGER, ffs.
SUBS:
FRENCH EDDY - 7/10
French Shreddy as the Huns are getting used to calling him - showed
THE difference and his class when setting up Mikey for his mega-fail.
Played from the start, this game could have been done by half-time.
BITTON - 5.5/10
Appeared with backs to the wall, Big Nir won't shirk that sort of
challenge, and helped shore up the rearguard in lieu of late calamity.
MIKEY J - 5/10
Jeeeeee-sus, Mikey... the entire eighties (well, the majority, save
for FGTH) was all but forgiven as he strode though on French Eddy's
beautiful bit of play and... Missed.
FFS, Mikey, just plant it v THEM and prove the doubters wrong while we
celebrate like the reprieved on death-row.
LENNONY - 6/10
Wow. The stars aligned for Lennony today. That team - all askew and nothing
clicking. NO relief up front as he imagined his favourite nephew would impact
the gurning Hun sides o' beef.
It was a shambles form beginning to end, salvaged only by his crowning decision -
bringing the big bear-buster back from the effette wilderness of Southamptonville
into the fermenting cauldron of Glasgow winter Sunday cup finals to single-handedly
take the trophy.
Lennony was out-guessed and out-pressed by his sneering, luckily smirkless,
Scouse nemesis opposite. Yet, he stayed smooth on the surface and paddled like
the devil underneath as the manager seemed to fall upon the sword of his own
wrong-choosing. But a handful of players were antithetical to the general garbage
we mustered and those guys' moments of class made the ultimate difference.
Thank them, Lennony - for you escaped a pounding.
OVERALL - 7/10
The Wall saves us ALL! On another beautiful Sunday!
We were so poor; Politely. Honestly? Shite. I was blabbing about rope-a-dope
early on but in truth we were the dopes - never off the damn ropes, unable to
impose ourselves or put a constructive move together, let alone dominate a
midfield of journeymen minus their most composed player.
This was shaping like Black Christmas last year and we had NO answer, save for
another brilliant goalkeeping performance - big Gordon saved the skins at Mordor
to an extent and The Wall went one better today, winning the cup on his own.
Shocking performance - probably worse than our Livi effort but, hey - LMFAO!
We WON! First leg of the Quadrophenia treble nailed! Huns demoralised!
And aw, Wee Alfie the scape-drug-mule-thing...
Kudos to the Big Guy, Pingpong, Broon, The Franco sophisticat, the Techno Viking,
and... Well, that's about it. Utter failure as half the team declined to turn up
and those excitable Zombies nearly bust the Glory Bubble.
But they didn't. And that, kids, is what makes a GREAT team - when the creatives
malfunction and you've still got a supporting cast good enough to make the
difference, get the result over the line. Dirty, cheating - ball out by us,
never returned - Hun scum got the big dose of Karma they were due. And Slippy's
never even won a League Cup, neve rmind a league...
Hail, Hail, we nailed the mini-prize and set ourselves for the BIG prize.
They'll never get a better chance to de-rail the Hooped convoy, not with the
Rubber Duck at the wheel...
VICTORY! REJOICE!
QUADROPHENIA TREBLE ON THE CARDS!
Go Away Now.
Sandman. 7 pints and counting.
Last edited:
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