Sandman
Well-known member
SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC v THE NAVARRO CARTEL
"Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom
Boom, Boom, Boom
Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom,
Boom, Boom, Boom."
- 'The Celtic Guns' - A poem by Tony 'Baldrick' Robinson,
St.Mirren FC Manager.
ROXIE - 6.5/10
As expected, chief cheerleader in another seige, this
time resisting the temptation to burst forward and try
a long-range effort as we re-enacted the Alamo.
When once crucially called upon, though, pounced on a
loose ball in the 6-yard box like a cougar picking off
an escaped family bunny.
GREGGS THE BAKER - 6.5/10
Games like these are bread and dripping for a bhoy
raised amid the vein-popping hurly-burly of lower
SPL/Championship MMA scraps.
The Paisley gangsta fury fazed him not one bit as
he role-played a Feegie drug bust and kicked their
right-flank door down, piling in with an array of
ammunition, delivering the message with a zippy,
energetic 90 minutes.
Lacks the footballing finery of others but excelled
as a driving force.
STAR LORD - 7.5/10
See the difference a new series makes? Buoyed up by
the Shelby's last stand, he was perfectly tuned-in
to meet shotgun with shotgun, weilding a sawn-off
with a swagger across our defesive third, making
the block of the game to prevent an unsettling opener
for them, and playing Sutton to his defensive partner's
Larsson for that vital goal.
Looked the sharpest mentally we've seen him. Must
carry that channelled madness into Sunday.
GET CARTER - 8/10 MOTM
Centre-half, playmaker, predator. Filled the
roles tonight like he fills that jersey; with
cultured brawn. Lashed in his chance with the
instincts of a gigantic Gerd Muller, a finish
that elictited not so much expressions of joy,
more of a collective roared, 'Thank fuck!'.
His passing from and around the back was crisp
and incisive; essential given the inordinate
amount of time on the ball he had.
All-in, that was the comprehensive centre-back
performance required in a sticky title run-in
must-win match. Reminded me of Jozo beating Killie
the weekend Cesar departed.
JURAN JURAN - 6.5/10
The livewire we need at times when the pace lags.
His overlapping runs are unmatchable and if only
he'd managed a little more precision in delivery
we'd have killed the game off early from his
advanced positions.
CALMAC - 7.5/10
Ultimately, a great captain's performance. Chipped
in with the goal equivalent of a massage happy-ending,
but his real contribution was his metronomic influence
on a midfield out of sorts and composed of shifting
personnel. Calmac was the constant as Ange tried
the variables.
THE BUILDER - 6.5/10
Threatened to explode into a match-winning display.
But he couldn't quite get beyond first-fix despite
trying to add some architectural highlights that
didn't quite pay off. Promising, though.
HAKUNA HATATE - 5.5/10
Another poor one from Andres Iniesta's favourite
J-League player. He seemed to fall into the 'too
casual' trap, which is a difficult fugue state
to emerge from as the game rages around and away
from you. Surprising, as his best games have been
defined by the spikes of his alertness and creativity.
ABADASS - 6/10
Might have lit his name up in lights again by
scoring a couple and assisting some too, but
became the nearly-kid after a near-miss and
some mishit deliveries.
Scuttles across the turf at pace like a
sand-running desert lizard, drawing cloggers
into useful fouls, or gliding into dangerous
areas. Add the extra-dimension of the ability
to serve up a killer cross and he'll be a
superstar.
LORD KATSUMOTO - 7/10
Well, if that overhead/hitchkick had produced
the goal the inventiveness and acrobatics
deserved, you'd all be screaming like wee
chicks at a K-Pop gig.
The touch is missing but the willingness to
committ to fruitless labour isn't as he put
in a 90 minutes of perpetual motion that had
Duracell offering sponsorship and Tesla naming
a new battery after him.
NOTEBOOK - 5.5/10
He's going through an introspective phase. It's
the Andrew Ridgeley concept album inspired by
The Unbearable Lightness Of Being novel he read
backpacking around Polynesia.
So we're going to just let him get it out of his
system and hope he gets back to lighting up the
charts with fresh, exciting performances through
the countdown to death or glory.
SUBS:
BITTON - 6/10
Never more or less than assured and steady;
precisely the character required to introduce
in such circumstances.
ROGIC - 7/10
It's 32-a-side in the school playground and
the game's balanced on a knife edge at 18-17.
Then one of the big kids lumbers up, demands to
play and just takes the ball off everyone until
his side's so far ahead the score's forgotten
and nobody can do more than chase him around
hoping for a wee toepoke at the ball or maybe
a sly spit on the back of his jersey.
Yup. Oz tonight.
KARAOKE - N/A
Great to see the kid back in action, and he
looks twice the size. Also, comically booked
by a racist for...'Reasons' (Racism).
JAMESY - N/A
On with more verve than recently. But the
abject shock on female faces around the
stadium as somebody called Pansy put in a
clumsy tackle in the box and Jamesy -
incredibly - Didn't. Go. Down...
Ladies...
TAMAGOTCHI - N/A
Nice to see him back too. A magnet for
violence; 3 minutes on the park, kicked
and smacked in the face. Play him up
front with Koyogo, absorb flak.
ANITA DOBSON - 7.5/10
A fortifying win for Ange; Buckfast moment.
Method proven. Tactics proven. Changes
impactful.
He's never been in this position before -
a title countdown of such intensity that we
may have to sign Carol Vorderman on loan.
But, for sure, he'll adapt quick and begin
to relish the pressure. That comes next
with the hoodoo of voodoos at the place
every football purist detests.
We'll be grimacing through the Sabbath no
doubt, but the big man will be right there
on the side like a rock demanding his bhoys
stick to their guns, heed his mantra, go
again. Fingers crossed.
MIBBERY - 4/10
Sly and erratic. Booked the Celtic captain -
always a winner in the goat lottery that one.
Not much else he could do to stop the Hoops
turning them over, but did manage a classic
MIB racist yellow at the end to elicit a
murmurred, respectful round of applause down
the ludges.
OVERALL - 7/10
Phew. Every Day Is Like Sunday, sung Morrisey,
and by half-time we realised where he'd found
the inspiration for that one.
When you get a free-kick 25 yards out in the
2nd minute and don't try to test their nervy
keeper you know it could be a long night.
Instead of a purposeful strike, we conjoured
up some elaborate falafel of a move that had
the same effect as throwing handfuls of glitter
and fairy dust at their glowering orc/hipster
hybrids in defence and hoping they might sneeze
one in for us.
That set the tone for a first 45 which played
out like a reboot of Hibs, bar the one optimistic
factor - we were moving the ball quicker on a
better surface.
Then the dividends paid out as our rewards for
persistence and finally putting the ball in the
mix properly, resulted in what was a comfortable
win in the end.
Our centre half pairing turned into a striking
partnership and our skipper scored a pisstake
insurance goal with the old pass-it-into-the-net
fakeout as the keeper and defenders flurried
expecting a blast.
Nine to go. Eight wins for the title. 720 minutes
from an unlikely triumph we could only grasp at
with undiluted hopium back in September.
There's still a lot of football to be played, but
these boys have put themselves in that position
and I doubt they're prepared to relinquish the
opportunity without thrills and spills aplenty.
So enjoy Broony going loco with a chainsaw on
Saturday afternoon, before the Sunday noon special -
Livi away; the footballing equivalent of root
canal. Let's hope they swap the lidocaine for
cocaine and LSD this time and just for once the
creeping dread turns into a rollocking trip to
living Legoland.
Go Away Now
Sandman
"Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom
Boom, Boom, Boom
Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom,
Boom, Boom, Boom."
- 'The Celtic Guns' - A poem by Tony 'Baldrick' Robinson,
St.Mirren FC Manager.
ROXIE - 6.5/10
As expected, chief cheerleader in another seige, this
time resisting the temptation to burst forward and try
a long-range effort as we re-enacted the Alamo.
When once crucially called upon, though, pounced on a
loose ball in the 6-yard box like a cougar picking off
an escaped family bunny.
GREGGS THE BAKER - 6.5/10
Games like these are bread and dripping for a bhoy
raised amid the vein-popping hurly-burly of lower
SPL/Championship MMA scraps.
The Paisley gangsta fury fazed him not one bit as
he role-played a Feegie drug bust and kicked their
right-flank door down, piling in with an array of
ammunition, delivering the message with a zippy,
energetic 90 minutes.
Lacks the footballing finery of others but excelled
as a driving force.
STAR LORD - 7.5/10
See the difference a new series makes? Buoyed up by
the Shelby's last stand, he was perfectly tuned-in
to meet shotgun with shotgun, weilding a sawn-off
with a swagger across our defesive third, making
the block of the game to prevent an unsettling opener
for them, and playing Sutton to his defensive partner's
Larsson for that vital goal.
Looked the sharpest mentally we've seen him. Must
carry that channelled madness into Sunday.
GET CARTER - 8/10 MOTM
Centre-half, playmaker, predator. Filled the
roles tonight like he fills that jersey; with
cultured brawn. Lashed in his chance with the
instincts of a gigantic Gerd Muller, a finish
that elictited not so much expressions of joy,
more of a collective roared, 'Thank fuck!'.
His passing from and around the back was crisp
and incisive; essential given the inordinate
amount of time on the ball he had.
All-in, that was the comprehensive centre-back
performance required in a sticky title run-in
must-win match. Reminded me of Jozo beating Killie
the weekend Cesar departed.
JURAN JURAN - 6.5/10
The livewire we need at times when the pace lags.
His overlapping runs are unmatchable and if only
he'd managed a little more precision in delivery
we'd have killed the game off early from his
advanced positions.
CALMAC - 7.5/10
Ultimately, a great captain's performance. Chipped
in with the goal equivalent of a massage happy-ending,
but his real contribution was his metronomic influence
on a midfield out of sorts and composed of shifting
personnel. Calmac was the constant as Ange tried
the variables.
THE BUILDER - 6.5/10
Threatened to explode into a match-winning display.
But he couldn't quite get beyond first-fix despite
trying to add some architectural highlights that
didn't quite pay off. Promising, though.
HAKUNA HATATE - 5.5/10
Another poor one from Andres Iniesta's favourite
J-League player. He seemed to fall into the 'too
casual' trap, which is a difficult fugue state
to emerge from as the game rages around and away
from you. Surprising, as his best games have been
defined by the spikes of his alertness and creativity.
ABADASS - 6/10
Might have lit his name up in lights again by
scoring a couple and assisting some too, but
became the nearly-kid after a near-miss and
some mishit deliveries.
Scuttles across the turf at pace like a
sand-running desert lizard, drawing cloggers
into useful fouls, or gliding into dangerous
areas. Add the extra-dimension of the ability
to serve up a killer cross and he'll be a
superstar.
LORD KATSUMOTO - 7/10
Well, if that overhead/hitchkick had produced
the goal the inventiveness and acrobatics
deserved, you'd all be screaming like wee
chicks at a K-Pop gig.
The touch is missing but the willingness to
committ to fruitless labour isn't as he put
in a 90 minutes of perpetual motion that had
Duracell offering sponsorship and Tesla naming
a new battery after him.
NOTEBOOK - 5.5/10
He's going through an introspective phase. It's
the Andrew Ridgeley concept album inspired by
The Unbearable Lightness Of Being novel he read
backpacking around Polynesia.
So we're going to just let him get it out of his
system and hope he gets back to lighting up the
charts with fresh, exciting performances through
the countdown to death or glory.
SUBS:
BITTON - 6/10
Never more or less than assured and steady;
precisely the character required to introduce
in such circumstances.
ROGIC - 7/10
It's 32-a-side in the school playground and
the game's balanced on a knife edge at 18-17.
Then one of the big kids lumbers up, demands to
play and just takes the ball off everyone until
his side's so far ahead the score's forgotten
and nobody can do more than chase him around
hoping for a wee toepoke at the ball or maybe
a sly spit on the back of his jersey.
Yup. Oz tonight.
KARAOKE - N/A
Great to see the kid back in action, and he
looks twice the size. Also, comically booked
by a racist for...'Reasons' (Racism).
JAMESY - N/A
On with more verve than recently. But the
abject shock on female faces around the
stadium as somebody called Pansy put in a
clumsy tackle in the box and Jamesy -
incredibly - Didn't. Go. Down...
Ladies...
TAMAGOTCHI - N/A
Nice to see him back too. A magnet for
violence; 3 minutes on the park, kicked
and smacked in the face. Play him up
front with Koyogo, absorb flak.
ANITA DOBSON - 7.5/10
A fortifying win for Ange; Buckfast moment.
Method proven. Tactics proven. Changes
impactful.
He's never been in this position before -
a title countdown of such intensity that we
may have to sign Carol Vorderman on loan.
But, for sure, he'll adapt quick and begin
to relish the pressure. That comes next
with the hoodoo of voodoos at the place
every football purist detests.
We'll be grimacing through the Sabbath no
doubt, but the big man will be right there
on the side like a rock demanding his bhoys
stick to their guns, heed his mantra, go
again. Fingers crossed.
MIBBERY - 4/10
Sly and erratic. Booked the Celtic captain -
always a winner in the goat lottery that one.
Not much else he could do to stop the Hoops
turning them over, but did manage a classic
MIB racist yellow at the end to elicit a
murmurred, respectful round of applause down
the ludges.
OVERALL - 7/10
Phew. Every Day Is Like Sunday, sung Morrisey,
and by half-time we realised where he'd found
the inspiration for that one.
When you get a free-kick 25 yards out in the
2nd minute and don't try to test their nervy
keeper you know it could be a long night.
Instead of a purposeful strike, we conjoured
up some elaborate falafel of a move that had
the same effect as throwing handfuls of glitter
and fairy dust at their glowering orc/hipster
hybrids in defence and hoping they might sneeze
one in for us.
That set the tone for a first 45 which played
out like a reboot of Hibs, bar the one optimistic
factor - we were moving the ball quicker on a
better surface.
Then the dividends paid out as our rewards for
persistence and finally putting the ball in the
mix properly, resulted in what was a comfortable
win in the end.
Our centre half pairing turned into a striking
partnership and our skipper scored a pisstake
insurance goal with the old pass-it-into-the-net
fakeout as the keeper and defenders flurried
expecting a blast.
Nine to go. Eight wins for the title. 720 minutes
from an unlikely triumph we could only grasp at
with undiluted hopium back in September.
There's still a lot of football to be played, but
these boys have put themselves in that position
and I doubt they're prepared to relinquish the
opportunity without thrills and spills aplenty.
So enjoy Broony going loco with a chainsaw on
Saturday afternoon, before the Sunday noon special -
Livi away; the footballing equivalent of root
canal. Let's hope they swap the lidocaine for
cocaine and LSD this time and just for once the
creeping dread turns into a rollocking trip to
living Legoland.
Go Away Now
Sandman
