Sandman
Well-known member
SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC @ WELLS FARGO
"I knew things were getting dire when Alfie tried to win a
penalty by throwing himself at the ground. And missed. "
- Giovanni van Bronkhorst. Undertaker.
SIEGHEIL - 7/10
That's what we needed - fingertip defiance of a home
resurgence right after the break as Seigy took on the
entire oppostion while rest of the Hoops remained in
the dressing room waiting for Kyogo to finish an
introspective reading from 'The Unbearable Lightness
Of Being' by Milan Kundera. In Japanese.
Thankfully, our big Dutch keeper had seen the movie
version with Daniel Day-Lewis and was between the
sticks in time.
GREGGS THE BAKER - 8/10
Sometime in the 90s Tosh McKinley and Danny McGrain
were abducted by Trisolarans and their genes spliced
together to produce experimental subject TX1888-3.
Spending much of his life under cover as a master-baker
(that's master-'BAKER', Jamesy...), almost bi-weekly he
reveals his true identity as the finest inverted nipple we've
seen in a Celtic top.
Industrious and sharp, produced another frenetic burst
of energy and creativity to mimic an earlier move, yet
this time nail it to perfection and set up the vital
opener on the cusp of half-time.
Must be Ange's dream pupil - nobody has improved more
under Angeball than Greggs.
BIG MERCEDES - 6/10
Slack Alice for much of the opening spell as headers
went wayward and so did his concentration, all but
gifting them a lead; let off the hook by skelly
goofball who blasted over.
Took himself by the scruff of his brass neck, though,
and got his act together for the rest of the contest.
GET CARTER - 7.5/10
"Shat it!" gains a new definition entry in the Visual
Urban Dictionary tonight with a clip of Motherwell
playmaking agitator and pseudo-punk, Goss, crimping up
like a puffball in the face of a rampaging CCV.
To be fair, ye can hardly blame the boy; meet the 50-50
and die in screaming agony, or skip like Ryan Kent in a
pinafore holding a flower between his teeth, going through
a sunny meadow.
Surprised to see Carter put in another tough, yet quality,
full 90, but I remembered we're only another centre-back
injury away from Ange ringing me in the pub. Give me time
for another scoop, big man...
JURAN JURAN - 7/10
Dainty, and alert more than recently. He fairly scurried
around the joint, treating us to bursts of pace that flummox
opponents and open up great opportunities. Instrumental in
prising their resistance open. The World Cup beckons...
MOOEY - 7/10
Halloween Broony strikes again - following up Saturday's
Trainspotters detoxing with a solid and consistent smelting
of the Steelmen.
May not posses the quick feet and incisive passing of his
cohorts, but he can pick a Hollywood ball rather well - Eddie
T take note - and does a fine job of covering and break-up
play; Epitomised by taking one in the face that resulted in
our first goal. Great shift again.
THE BUILDER - 7/10
If a young Tom Cruise played Calmac in the movie... Default
rookie skipper once more steps into a role we're beginning
to forget is not natural to him.
Which is testament to his prowess in there, maintaining shape
and tempo. Like a fucking Baby Boss.
HAKUNA HATATE - 8.5/10 MOTM
So the little powerhouse with the gumshield gives us the
Ali Shuffle and knocks them out once and for all.
"Abra-Ka-Fuka-Dabra!" he yelled in Japanese as those feet
swished with Eastern magic and their keeper suffered an
epileptic fit in the face of mystical trickery.
David Blane's flying in to learn it, and Derren Brown's
asked him for a date. Paul Daniel's ghost could be seen
floating about behind their nets howling, "You'll like
that, not a lot, but you'll like it..."
Reo owned the midfield tonight - energy peaking as we
sealed the game, his terrific movement and footwork
having already worn down the home resilience.
ABADASS - 8/10
He's a desert spider roaming the wing and a deadly viper
in the box. The spider kept falling over its own legs out
wide tonight, faffing crosses, but the viper was at it
like it was the real Huns and not just their empathetic
Lanarkshire cousins; surged like a Lambo through a mob of
climate hysterics to get on the end of Greggs cutback for
a crucial start, then spanked in a fine half-volley for a
killer second before pinballing one off the post to set
up Kyogo.
What a record the kid's got and he's hardly even started
his Celtic career. Legend in the making.
MR.KOBAYASHI - 6.5/10
Sitter, bar, goal-line, keeper, bastard, bastard, bastard...
Bang!
'I knew it'd come eventually...' is a phrase often sighed by
Mrs.Morelos. Tonight, it was a sigh of relief from us all.
Had Kyogo turned into the Eastern Stuart Slater; all promise,
effort, style, and ultimate frustration? Hmm...
Nope!
Snap-dragon strike when lazy samurai least expect, says the
ancient lore, and in it went off the post and then off the
joyful Japanese. Right in front of the travelling circus -
what a perfect way to break a drought.
HACKY SACK - 6/10
A strange outing for the bearded mercury on the wing -
well involved first-half and linked with Taylor to eventually
eek out the breakthrough.
In the end, contrary to idiotic expert expectations - MINE - he
faded from the action and wasn't the Hoop upon which glory
or disappointment would depend; he drifted through the match
without making a dent or being required to before a dead leg
finished him.
SUBS -
LORD KATSUMOTO - 6.5/10
Fair play to the blinkered anime tempest again as he
came off the bench and impacted well - hustling down a
loose ball and comically evading the clash of two amber
clad titans to lay on the 4th goal.
SON OF JACKIE - N/A
Narrowly survived a bumming attempt. Thankfully regained
use of arse and appeared fully mobile by final whistle.
MCCARTHYISM - N/A
More composed game-time for James, able to show he's got
value in this long season of all hands on deck, steadying
the ship through the shallows to the final berth. (Fucking
great nautical analogy there, pirate fans...)
TWIST - N/A
As with McCarthy: more miles in the boots, the better, as
the rangy norseman gets into the Angeball rhythm. Fired
about the park like a keen wolfhound in a sheep pen.
ANITA DOBSON - 8/10
Another 5 changes, another big win as the system he has
instilled into the player's daily regime pays dividends
regardless of the components.
The Snake was the last manager we saw with such defined
parameters, but he was... Well, a sleekit cunt, basically,
who ultimately failed to condescend his way through the
wiles of players like Moussa and Erik who acquired his
disingenuous bluffs with instinctive distaste.
With Big Ange, as we'll see in the DVD release - aye,
Santa, that'll do nicely - it's about respect and quiet
dedication to the architecture of Angeball; a promise
that faith begets triumph and all you need do is express
the committment, controlled intensity, effort and belief.
That's what he gets with this squad that he's carefully
crafted into an interchangeable unit, able to negotiate
tricky cup ties at way-less than full strength.
Just believe in Angeball and the job - more often than
not - gets done.
On we go.
MIBBERY - 2/10
Barley a flutter from Don tonight - nullified by
Hooped intensity, run off his feet like Motherwell
were, more concerned with catching his breath than
attempting any futile mendacity. He'll be saving
that for the league run-in...
OVERALL - 8/10
Credit to Motherwell here- that pitch is fucking
spectacular; if all SPL sides were forced/fincanced
to produce such a fine playing surface the Scottish
game would advance no end and the broadcasting
product be much more viable.
We played well on it, anyway, lol. Flew at them all
first-half, lovely flowing, inventive football...
No end result, save for Kyogo learning the Scottish
expression "Fuckin'... HOW?!"
But young Abadass stepped up - or rather in - and relieved
the gathering hooped anxiety. One of those nights became
another of those nights as we eventually peppered them
into submission.
A very satisfactory rampage in the Lanarkshire industrial
gloom and another storming of the Hampden gates to come as
we get the draw the Huns wanted and have some degenerate
Ayrshire mutants to slay before eviscerating the satanic
hordes in a February massacre to avenge Bugs Moran's boys'
Valentine's Day soiree mishap.
Or probably the Sheep, lol...
Go Away Now
Sandman
"I knew things were getting dire when Alfie tried to win a
penalty by throwing himself at the ground. And missed. "
- Giovanni van Bronkhorst. Undertaker.
SIEGHEIL - 7/10
That's what we needed - fingertip defiance of a home
resurgence right after the break as Seigy took on the
entire oppostion while rest of the Hoops remained in
the dressing room waiting for Kyogo to finish an
introspective reading from 'The Unbearable Lightness
Of Being' by Milan Kundera. In Japanese.
Thankfully, our big Dutch keeper had seen the movie
version with Daniel Day-Lewis and was between the
sticks in time.
GREGGS THE BAKER - 8/10
Sometime in the 90s Tosh McKinley and Danny McGrain
were abducted by Trisolarans and their genes spliced
together to produce experimental subject TX1888-3.
Spending much of his life under cover as a master-baker
(that's master-'BAKER', Jamesy...), almost bi-weekly he
reveals his true identity as the finest inverted nipple we've
seen in a Celtic top.
Industrious and sharp, produced another frenetic burst
of energy and creativity to mimic an earlier move, yet
this time nail it to perfection and set up the vital
opener on the cusp of half-time.
Must be Ange's dream pupil - nobody has improved more
under Angeball than Greggs.
BIG MERCEDES - 6/10
Slack Alice for much of the opening spell as headers
went wayward and so did his concentration, all but
gifting them a lead; let off the hook by skelly
goofball who blasted over.
Took himself by the scruff of his brass neck, though,
and got his act together for the rest of the contest.
GET CARTER - 7.5/10
"Shat it!" gains a new definition entry in the Visual
Urban Dictionary tonight with a clip of Motherwell
playmaking agitator and pseudo-punk, Goss, crimping up
like a puffball in the face of a rampaging CCV.
To be fair, ye can hardly blame the boy; meet the 50-50
and die in screaming agony, or skip like Ryan Kent in a
pinafore holding a flower between his teeth, going through
a sunny meadow.
Surprised to see Carter put in another tough, yet quality,
full 90, but I remembered we're only another centre-back
injury away from Ange ringing me in the pub. Give me time
for another scoop, big man...
JURAN JURAN - 7/10
Dainty, and alert more than recently. He fairly scurried
around the joint, treating us to bursts of pace that flummox
opponents and open up great opportunities. Instrumental in
prising their resistance open. The World Cup beckons...
MOOEY - 7/10
Halloween Broony strikes again - following up Saturday's
Trainspotters detoxing with a solid and consistent smelting
of the Steelmen.
May not posses the quick feet and incisive passing of his
cohorts, but he can pick a Hollywood ball rather well - Eddie
T take note - and does a fine job of covering and break-up
play; Epitomised by taking one in the face that resulted in
our first goal. Great shift again.
THE BUILDER - 7/10
If a young Tom Cruise played Calmac in the movie... Default
rookie skipper once more steps into a role we're beginning
to forget is not natural to him.
Which is testament to his prowess in there, maintaining shape
and tempo. Like a fucking Baby Boss.
HAKUNA HATATE - 8.5/10 MOTM
So the little powerhouse with the gumshield gives us the
Ali Shuffle and knocks them out once and for all.
"Abra-Ka-Fuka-Dabra!" he yelled in Japanese as those feet
swished with Eastern magic and their keeper suffered an
epileptic fit in the face of mystical trickery.
David Blane's flying in to learn it, and Derren Brown's
asked him for a date. Paul Daniel's ghost could be seen
floating about behind their nets howling, "You'll like
that, not a lot, but you'll like it..."
Reo owned the midfield tonight - energy peaking as we
sealed the game, his terrific movement and footwork
having already worn down the home resilience.
ABADASS - 8/10
He's a desert spider roaming the wing and a deadly viper
in the box. The spider kept falling over its own legs out
wide tonight, faffing crosses, but the viper was at it
like it was the real Huns and not just their empathetic
Lanarkshire cousins; surged like a Lambo through a mob of
climate hysterics to get on the end of Greggs cutback for
a crucial start, then spanked in a fine half-volley for a
killer second before pinballing one off the post to set
up Kyogo.
What a record the kid's got and he's hardly even started
his Celtic career. Legend in the making.
MR.KOBAYASHI - 6.5/10
Sitter, bar, goal-line, keeper, bastard, bastard, bastard...
Bang!
'I knew it'd come eventually...' is a phrase often sighed by
Mrs.Morelos. Tonight, it was a sigh of relief from us all.
Had Kyogo turned into the Eastern Stuart Slater; all promise,
effort, style, and ultimate frustration? Hmm...
Nope!
Snap-dragon strike when lazy samurai least expect, says the
ancient lore, and in it went off the post and then off the
joyful Japanese. Right in front of the travelling circus -
what a perfect way to break a drought.
HACKY SACK - 6/10
A strange outing for the bearded mercury on the wing -
well involved first-half and linked with Taylor to eventually
eek out the breakthrough.
In the end, contrary to idiotic expert expectations - MINE - he
faded from the action and wasn't the Hoop upon which glory
or disappointment would depend; he drifted through the match
without making a dent or being required to before a dead leg
finished him.
SUBS -
LORD KATSUMOTO - 6.5/10
Fair play to the blinkered anime tempest again as he
came off the bench and impacted well - hustling down a
loose ball and comically evading the clash of two amber
clad titans to lay on the 4th goal.
SON OF JACKIE - N/A
Narrowly survived a bumming attempt. Thankfully regained
use of arse and appeared fully mobile by final whistle.
MCCARTHYISM - N/A
More composed game-time for James, able to show he's got
value in this long season of all hands on deck, steadying
the ship through the shallows to the final berth. (Fucking
great nautical analogy there, pirate fans...)
TWIST - N/A
As with McCarthy: more miles in the boots, the better, as
the rangy norseman gets into the Angeball rhythm. Fired
about the park like a keen wolfhound in a sheep pen.
ANITA DOBSON - 8/10
Another 5 changes, another big win as the system he has
instilled into the player's daily regime pays dividends
regardless of the components.
The Snake was the last manager we saw with such defined
parameters, but he was... Well, a sleekit cunt, basically,
who ultimately failed to condescend his way through the
wiles of players like Moussa and Erik who acquired his
disingenuous bluffs with instinctive distaste.
With Big Ange, as we'll see in the DVD release - aye,
Santa, that'll do nicely - it's about respect and quiet
dedication to the architecture of Angeball; a promise
that faith begets triumph and all you need do is express
the committment, controlled intensity, effort and belief.
That's what he gets with this squad that he's carefully
crafted into an interchangeable unit, able to negotiate
tricky cup ties at way-less than full strength.
Just believe in Angeball and the job - more often than
not - gets done.
On we go.
MIBBERY - 2/10
Barley a flutter from Don tonight - nullified by
Hooped intensity, run off his feet like Motherwell
were, more concerned with catching his breath than
attempting any futile mendacity. He'll be saving
that for the league run-in...
OVERALL - 8/10
Credit to Motherwell here- that pitch is fucking
spectacular; if all SPL sides were forced/fincanced
to produce such a fine playing surface the Scottish
game would advance no end and the broadcasting
product be much more viable.
We played well on it, anyway, lol. Flew at them all
first-half, lovely flowing, inventive football...
No end result, save for Kyogo learning the Scottish
expression "Fuckin'... HOW?!"
But young Abadass stepped up - or rather in - and relieved
the gathering hooped anxiety. One of those nights became
another of those nights as we eventually peppered them
into submission.
A very satisfactory rampage in the Lanarkshire industrial
gloom and another storming of the Hampden gates to come as
we get the draw the Huns wanted and have some degenerate
Ayrshire mutants to slay before eviscerating the satanic
hordes in a February massacre to avenge Bugs Moran's boys'
Valentine's Day soiree mishap.
Or probably the Sheep, lol...
Go Away Now
Sandman
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