SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC v ZEBEDEES

Sandman

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SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC v ZEBEDEES


"If Celtic can bring on five substitutes, then Rangers must be allowed
five too; With nobody coming off."

- Scottish media hacks' plans for rules reform.



ROXIE - 6.5/10

Save it Joe! Damn...
Another quiet day, another pen guessed wrong; lol at the ballboy
asking 'wtf?' after their unhealthily excited wee Hun striker
had all his wet dreams come true in one life-defining moment.
How'd that work out for you?



GREGGS THE BAKER - 6.5/10

Drive on, and on, and on... Playing through injury, he still
gets the steak bakes out in time and batters at it for the cause.
Can't fault sheer ruthless devotion even if his ongoing niggles
hampered finesse.



STAR LORD - 3/10

It's like this - the news report comes from the shopping mall
littered with bloody hacked-up corpses and amid the carnage some
cud-chewing glakit blubberball Texas-Mom is drawling down the
correspondant's mic:
"Yeah, it's like, even though he started dressing in a Yogi
Bear outfit and running around with a meat-cleaver, nobody
kinda didn't not think he'd kinda do this, y'know?"

Yes. Yes, some of us did... Right, Rocket Racoon?




GET CARTER - 7.5/10

Injured?
'Aye, an anti-tank mine blew off wan o' hi stracks, but we
fixed it up and noo Brad Pitt's goin' tae drive him around
Germany fur a bit during the International break.

There he was, fit and powerful, revelling in the dreich
conditions, getting his heid kicked-off and coming back
for more. A success among few.



WAYNE GRETZKY - 5.5/10

Called up to play in the Stanley Cup? Or something like that,
because he was wandered a little, mentally - though not as
much as some others... - and unusually got caught on the
ball/hesitating more than once by some enthusiastic, wiry
raver.



CALMAC - 6.5/10

Wherefor art thouh, capi-tan! Stuck in the engine room with
unfamiliar sidekicks trying to get the machine tuned-up but
not achieving more than perfunctory ticking-over.



THE BUILDER - 5.5/10

Big chance to get back in the groove for 90 inspiring minutes,
but flunked his exam like a kid who's stayed up all night on
the Playstation.




HAKUNA HATATE - N/A

Oh Reo. Reo. Let's hope your dancing on the sand again, soon.




LORD KATSUMOTO - 5.5/10

Daizen damned to obscurity after a promising opening, somehow
lost his way with others when it looked set for his terrorizing
ability.



DEADLY NIGHTSHADE - 6/10

Heid it, ya bam! We know he's been coasting on his class but
he needs told there's no extra points for scoring fancies,
despite the Hun hacks' thirst for rule-changing.

Could -and should -have scored the goal/goals that would have
made this a cruise instead of a rickety ride on Chitty-chitty Bang-Bang.



NOTEBOOK - 7/10

A wild day of hit and miss - slapping crosses into the stratosphere,
then lifting you of fyour seat with skilfull bravado. But even
though his hair looked critically injured he never stopped in his
frantic attempts to create and forge a win.




SUBS -


HACKY SACK - 7/10

A marvel; may soon earn the unwanted tag of supersub
if he continues to appea rlate and light up the place
like a Xmas tree.


DIEGO ARMANDO MARADONA - N/A

Came on with the right attitude; looked ragin' and up
for it.



OH BHOY - 8/10 MOTM

Cometh the struglging hour, cometh the... Korean wide-boy
to fulfill his hubris and blow away the rainclouds with a
school-playground diving-headed 'winner' and marvellous
Jackie bodysuit displayed in celebration.

In games like these you look for the matchwinner to
save the day and this Bhoy became a man with a big
contribution to the title surge.



ABADASS - 5.5/10

Wa sit going to be this wee rapier threat? No. Chances
came and went and then he summed up the entire game by
tripping himself for a penalty. It didn't work.


EDDIE TURNBULL - 5/10

Hibs? But I play for Hibs...
And it looked like he did as he lumbered around the middle,
bereft of his usual creativity; no wicked moments of guile
or devastating shooting, just ponderous ball-retention.




ANITA DOBSON - 7/10

Ange knows the importance of clocking off for the
'hurry-up-and-qualify-or-forget-it-so-we-can-get-
back-to-the-proper-thing' break so no question the
Bhoys would be prepped to dance a merry jig on
St.Paddy's Day weekend.

He stood in the drizzle looking bemused at his charges'
efforts to tap back into the Angeball magic and threw
everything he could at it to conjure a precious victory,
going two up front in late desperation, and it paid off.
Phew, mayte, nice one.



MIBBERY - 5/10

Steven 'With a V, FTP' McLean on whistle-biting
duties and Graham and Gavin in the VAR studio -
a pair popular in Bennets for their fruit salad
and bondage-swing trapeze act. And what an act;
centre of attention, just the way they like it,
spiking the emotional volatility with agonising
calls. Brilliant spot on Star Lord to earn them
the Goldson Award for 'trivial incidents easily
ignored in the run of a game.'

Still, Steve-V dropped all jaws with a double-yellow
and was immediatelly balckballed by boolin' club
committees everywhere. So... Weird day. But isn't
every one with them?




OVERALL - 6.5/10

Green v Green - basically - and officiated by somebody
dressed as a pint of Guinness; pretty appropriate, or
it should have been.

It's Scotland, so no Paddy's Day Parades like many
other major cities in the world because, y'know -
'them'... They wore some sort of black poppy-seed,
opiate-inspred kit and the ref was in.. Pink? Cerese? Yup.

Anyway, man of the match here may well have gone to the
squad's Japanese interpreter - Noydeea Fuxhesayin - who
was tasked by Ange to sit and talk the Japanese boys
through the two Trainspotting movies for pre-match
research.

A dubious notion because Daizen, particularly taken by
Begbie, is now running about headbutting folk, shouting
"'Mon then!", Reo's talking in a Sean Connery accent and
trying to persude attractive young woment to become geishas,
and Kyogo just wants to give Spud a hug. Mr.Kobayashi is,
well, arguing with amateur movie critic Tonio Iowata that
The Usual Suspects is a better film.

So Hibs it was and a must win; aren't they all? Did we
expect them to come to town and take another hiding, or
come at us teeth-bared like a junkie missing his stash?

As suspected, the dillema was all theirs - conserve their
goal difference and keep their eyes on third, or open up,
press Celtic and leave yourselves open to evisceration.


They managed an in-between effort, and we got right in
between them, smack- hello Renton... -ing down any
notion of impropriety and sparking into life at just the
right times.

A torrid opening spell and it looked like we'd issue a
beating similar to the sort they're used to when their
dealers call in their credit.

Then we were gifted a shooty-in against ten men and...
Botched it.

One of those games where the ball won't run and the players
won't gel. Huns everywhere getting very aroused as the clock
ticked and the Dark Gods grinne dupon the stoical junkies.

Then...Oh. And OH YAAAAS!

So confine this match to the naughty step and breathe.
Perfect three points from an imperfect struggle, but
performances can be improved and precious points do make
the prizes. And it's...

Nine with nine to go!

'Nein!', screech the Huns, peeking between their fingers.

Yes, we nod back, with big Jack Nicholson Shining grins,
nine until nein...Yeesss...Nein after nine...Yeesss...


And until nine-ish days have passed, and the April thrills
begin, it's sayonara, fellow Tims.




Go Away Now


Sandman
 
"Steven 'With a V, FTP' McLean"
A clinker worthy of
BeHs0R_CEAATYlb
 

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