Sandman
Well-known member
SANDMAN'S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CHAMPIONS @ CORONATION CHICKENS
'The Coronation service begins with Samuel Strachan welcoming
King Charles to Westminster Abbey with the words "Your Majesty,
as children of the kingdom of God we welcome you in the name of
the King of Kings."
- Royal Bootlicker drag queen affirms the recognition of
Henrik Larsson as Ghod himself.
ROXIE - 6.5/10
Total command of his box, and the crowd. Nothing unfocusses
Big Joe on title day and he was damn sure his defence was going
to be on their toes as a seige emerged.
Done with a smile because he knows he's landed in nirvana in
the twilight of his illustrious career.
GREGGS THE BAKER - 7/10
The industry's back and clicking once more. The hardest-working
Hoop has managed to align his mojo with his go-jo, whatever the
fuck that means...
But we're seeing his tireless baker's endeavour translate towards
meaningful end-product once more after that troubling injury upset
his pastry-skills.
STAR LORD - 7.5/10
As Guardians Of The Glaxy 3 blows minds and emotions with its
heroism and heartache, our Star Lord revels in the entertainment
and also the responsibility of forging a new defensive partnership.
He took it upon himself to guide his cohort through a rocky start
with some exquisite defensive timing; reading of the game becoming
evident as his true forte.
They'll think they can prey upon him next Saturday but those
rancid vultures may be in for a shock. Rocket Racoon salutes you.
MR.KOBAYASHI - 5.5/10
So in he came, big big boots to fill, looking cool but completely
flustered at the same time; a Japanese speciality...
Settled into some competence after a first 45 of overtly
deliberate play which involved dallying on the ball and poor
distribution.
But, hey, that'll be fine given the overall context, and a decent
warm-up for next week's journey into darkness.
TONY THE TIGER - 6.5/10
Right in the faces of the wannabee orcs that were scattered about
the poorly populated home stands like Satan had vomited up a lunch
of apostates' jizz.
Not a ball thrown in the face could faze the Tiger from his mission
to rattle the cages of the screeching monkeys and his disciplined
performance closed down any onanist fantasies of theirs involving
a comeback.
CALMAC - 8/10 MOTM
Victim of Bealebaw tactics by 'shavedbaw' Naisy, Calmac was wrangled
by swarming macaroons for most of the first half.
But you cannot defy the conductor for long when the orchestra's tuned
and in he came with some perfectly-timed prompts to set up the ultimate
victory;
His turn-and-pop-it pass to put Reo in for Kyogo's opener is probably
the most erotic thing you'll find on pornhub this week.
Not that you'll be looking.
Or me...
Jamesy, take it from here...
THE BUILDER - 5.5/10
Nah, Matty couldn't get into it today. Probably sick of the sight
of replicant Huns and their henchmen and knowing he will be venturing
into the shadowlands next week; it seemed all to much for him to get to
grips with.
HAKUNA HATATE - 7/10
Floated around ineffective for the early part, like last Sunday,
but by the hour mark this time he was sharpened and ready to let
somebody feel the razor's edge...
That came with a perfectly-timed burst behind their lines, allied
with a glance and swift cut to wrap up the title.
Reo's getting into it, folks, and the ring's getting taken back to
Mordor. Meltdown Saturday coming...
LORD KATSUMOTO - 7/10
Whoosh! Too fast to track, too troublesome to trip...
But tripped he was and teeth were gnashed knowing he was clean
through; you're not catching Daizen at that pelt onto that ball -
trust me I know from Sunday League pursuit, the only option in
such circumstances was a grappling hook and launcher.
Crazily, those are now outlawed by the snowballing pansies in
charge of the game and a clip of the heels was the only remedy
to the Daizen-clean-through problem; red correctly called,
eventually...
Any objectors (yes, YOU, embittered, tearful Hun scum interlopers...)
watch big Nir Bitton getting blitzed by Bobby 'St.Mirren, honest' Madhun
at the Reichstag back in '21 after a mild grapple with ManBearPig
somewhere out on the fucking wing.
Anyway, Daizen's consistent trouble when he's in the mood, like today;
and he's our consistent trouble. Another honourable, incessant, enigmatic
outing.
KILLER MUSHROOM - 7.5/10
A point for every touch. And only took a half-touch of guile and genius
to stab them in their soulless royalist hearts. Just as you were wondering
when Oh was going to take the wee mhan's place...
Bam! There he was, seven touches, seventh goal against those degenerate
tramps in their Hun-hand-me-downs, fiftieth for the Hoops, 30 for the season,
I think, too many fecking numbers...
But there's only one Kyogo.
NOTEBOOK - 6/10
Last week's matchwinning magic evaded him, not for want of trying;
nothing ran smoothly for him.
But the Brazen Heid Begbie legacy played out in amazingly, cryptically
metaphysical Trainspotting style as he wiped out archetypal snivelling
Hun-Jambo rat-bastard, 'Walkawaysey', in the avenging name of Broony.
Karma.
SUBS -
OH BHOY - 7/10
OH! HerOH! The bhoy likes an impact and we got a mirror of Kyogo's first
as he flew in to poke home the killer right in front of their rancid stained
butcher's apron behind the nets. Sweet.
He certainly has an interesting and impressive stats kill-rate; able to
take the vast percentage of clear chances that come his way in his short
time on the park. Only that Motherwell snapped-heider miss stands out as
the solitary one that got away.
ABADASS - N/A
A farewell? Back in the fold for the run-in, we shall see if it's the
desert-spider's final scamper.
TONIO IWATAO - N/A
We humped the Minis 5-1 in Japanese passport poker when he
got on.
MOOEY - 6/10
Yul 'Broad Black' Brynner sidles on and sweeps through them
with a sumptuous bit of pass-and-move to set-up Oh.
HACKY SACK - 6/10
Those beguiling dancing feet of his were totally in tune with
the baldy layabout Aussie baller to play his part in the second.
ANITA DOBSON - 10/10
The Big Mhan. Magnificent. Magnanimous. Magic.
Suited up for his coronation as True King.
An Aussie-Greco fuckye to the slavering schizophrenic
grotesqueries baying for our blood, before half-time
came and they had to get off to the pub to watch their
'big team' take on The Sheep.
Nothing fazed Ange - he waited like a Great White for
the sprats to expend their energy and luck and then
got his bite in with a sharper, punishing second-half
ask of his lads.
Now he's a CHAMPION again and his hunger grows with
the adoration of the fanbase of millions. Later, a CL
plan to concoct; more immediately a trip to the Ninth
Circle Of Hell and a guard of honour to amusingly request;
and then a Cup final against Heelan' throbbers who'll be
the only resistance in this legend's quest to be a
treble-winning Celtic manager.
Good luck with that, ya monster-hiders.
MIBBERY - 1/10
A surrender, of spectacular magnitude.
Mr. C of The Shamen gets sent off after a VAR check;
surely it was Hun-on-Hun incest then?
No!
It was against us! Little Nick could hardly
believe it. Gollum coughed it up like a furball.
We laughed at the charade, then laughed
incredulously as the red came out.
They've had enough, and they've finally taken
the knee to the righteous Kings.
OVERALL - 2/10
Because that's where we are - 2 in a row, 8 to go.
CHAMPIONS!
And somewhere in-between might best summise a 6-7
rated total effort where the Gorgie festering menace
rattled about us for the entire first-half and the Bhoys
took a while to get it together.
But they knew the score, managed the game, and left it
at 2 and home and hosed for the justly-deserved honours.
CHAMPIONS!
It might have appeared that a reasonable delay to our crowning
was coming on this Slaver Empire Coronation weekend.
But soon as the MIBs switched the Butcher's Apron for the white
flag, the Bhoys put the foot to the gas, took off the seatbelts
- a fitting tribute to Diana - and smashed the final nails
into Lizzie's XI's coffin.
CHAMPIONS!
Ah, what a memorable, historical weekend it's been.
Capped at night by the 'You'll Never Walk Alone' rendition
in Charlie's tax-funded concert, that left the entire Hun
establishment shuffling uneasily and gazing at their shoes
as big bad and blind genius Andrea Bocelli belted it out so
beautifully across the swathes of monarchist gimps.
"That's for the fucking 97 Reds and the Champion Hoops!
Roon yeez imperialist dugs!" he bellowed out in archaic
Tuscan lingo at the end, missed by many.
Now we look ahead to TEN once more, by my calculations
just around 2030 as the Huns choke on their new King Billy...
Oh, the syzygy...
Go Away Now, CHAMPIONS
Sandman
'The Coronation service begins with Samuel Strachan welcoming
King Charles to Westminster Abbey with the words "Your Majesty,
as children of the kingdom of God we welcome you in the name of
the King of Kings."
- Royal Bootlicker drag queen affirms the recognition of
Henrik Larsson as Ghod himself.
ROXIE - 6.5/10
Total command of his box, and the crowd. Nothing unfocusses
Big Joe on title day and he was damn sure his defence was going
to be on their toes as a seige emerged.
Done with a smile because he knows he's landed in nirvana in
the twilight of his illustrious career.
GREGGS THE BAKER - 7/10
The industry's back and clicking once more. The hardest-working
Hoop has managed to align his mojo with his go-jo, whatever the
fuck that means...
But we're seeing his tireless baker's endeavour translate towards
meaningful end-product once more after that troubling injury upset
his pastry-skills.
STAR LORD - 7.5/10
As Guardians Of The Glaxy 3 blows minds and emotions with its
heroism and heartache, our Star Lord revels in the entertainment
and also the responsibility of forging a new defensive partnership.
He took it upon himself to guide his cohort through a rocky start
with some exquisite defensive timing; reading of the game becoming
evident as his true forte.
They'll think they can prey upon him next Saturday but those
rancid vultures may be in for a shock. Rocket Racoon salutes you.
MR.KOBAYASHI - 5.5/10
So in he came, big big boots to fill, looking cool but completely
flustered at the same time; a Japanese speciality...
Settled into some competence after a first 45 of overtly
deliberate play which involved dallying on the ball and poor
distribution.
But, hey, that'll be fine given the overall context, and a decent
warm-up for next week's journey into darkness.
TONY THE TIGER - 6.5/10
Right in the faces of the wannabee orcs that were scattered about
the poorly populated home stands like Satan had vomited up a lunch
of apostates' jizz.
Not a ball thrown in the face could faze the Tiger from his mission
to rattle the cages of the screeching monkeys and his disciplined
performance closed down any onanist fantasies of theirs involving
a comeback.
CALMAC - 8/10 MOTM
Victim of Bealebaw tactics by 'shavedbaw' Naisy, Calmac was wrangled
by swarming macaroons for most of the first half.
But you cannot defy the conductor for long when the orchestra's tuned
and in he came with some perfectly-timed prompts to set up the ultimate
victory;
His turn-and-pop-it pass to put Reo in for Kyogo's opener is probably
the most erotic thing you'll find on pornhub this week.
Not that you'll be looking.
Or me...
Jamesy, take it from here...
THE BUILDER - 5.5/10
Nah, Matty couldn't get into it today. Probably sick of the sight
of replicant Huns and their henchmen and knowing he will be venturing
into the shadowlands next week; it seemed all to much for him to get to
grips with.
HAKUNA HATATE - 7/10
Floated around ineffective for the early part, like last Sunday,
but by the hour mark this time he was sharpened and ready to let
somebody feel the razor's edge...
That came with a perfectly-timed burst behind their lines, allied
with a glance and swift cut to wrap up the title.
Reo's getting into it, folks, and the ring's getting taken back to
Mordor. Meltdown Saturday coming...
LORD KATSUMOTO - 7/10
Whoosh! Too fast to track, too troublesome to trip...
But tripped he was and teeth were gnashed knowing he was clean
through; you're not catching Daizen at that pelt onto that ball -
trust me I know from Sunday League pursuit, the only option in
such circumstances was a grappling hook and launcher.
Crazily, those are now outlawed by the snowballing pansies in
charge of the game and a clip of the heels was the only remedy
to the Daizen-clean-through problem; red correctly called,
eventually...
Any objectors (yes, YOU, embittered, tearful Hun scum interlopers...)
watch big Nir Bitton getting blitzed by Bobby 'St.Mirren, honest' Madhun
at the Reichstag back in '21 after a mild grapple with ManBearPig
somewhere out on the fucking wing.
Anyway, Daizen's consistent trouble when he's in the mood, like today;
and he's our consistent trouble. Another honourable, incessant, enigmatic
outing.
KILLER MUSHROOM - 7.5/10
A point for every touch. And only took a half-touch of guile and genius
to stab them in their soulless royalist hearts. Just as you were wondering
when Oh was going to take the wee mhan's place...
Bam! There he was, seven touches, seventh goal against those degenerate
tramps in their Hun-hand-me-downs, fiftieth for the Hoops, 30 for the season,
I think, too many fecking numbers...
But there's only one Kyogo.
NOTEBOOK - 6/10
Last week's matchwinning magic evaded him, not for want of trying;
nothing ran smoothly for him.
But the Brazen Heid Begbie legacy played out in amazingly, cryptically
metaphysical Trainspotting style as he wiped out archetypal snivelling
Hun-Jambo rat-bastard, 'Walkawaysey', in the avenging name of Broony.
Karma.
SUBS -
OH BHOY - 7/10
OH! HerOH! The bhoy likes an impact and we got a mirror of Kyogo's first
as he flew in to poke home the killer right in front of their rancid stained
butcher's apron behind the nets. Sweet.
He certainly has an interesting and impressive stats kill-rate; able to
take the vast percentage of clear chances that come his way in his short
time on the park. Only that Motherwell snapped-heider miss stands out as
the solitary one that got away.
ABADASS - N/A
A farewell? Back in the fold for the run-in, we shall see if it's the
desert-spider's final scamper.
TONIO IWATAO - N/A
We humped the Minis 5-1 in Japanese passport poker when he
got on.
MOOEY - 6/10
Yul 'Broad Black' Brynner sidles on and sweeps through them
with a sumptuous bit of pass-and-move to set-up Oh.
HACKY SACK - 6/10
Those beguiling dancing feet of his were totally in tune with
the baldy layabout Aussie baller to play his part in the second.
ANITA DOBSON - 10/10
The Big Mhan. Magnificent. Magnanimous. Magic.
Suited up for his coronation as True King.
An Aussie-Greco fuckye to the slavering schizophrenic
grotesqueries baying for our blood, before half-time
came and they had to get off to the pub to watch their
'big team' take on The Sheep.
Nothing fazed Ange - he waited like a Great White for
the sprats to expend their energy and luck and then
got his bite in with a sharper, punishing second-half
ask of his lads.
Now he's a CHAMPION again and his hunger grows with
the adoration of the fanbase of millions. Later, a CL
plan to concoct; more immediately a trip to the Ninth
Circle Of Hell and a guard of honour to amusingly request;
and then a Cup final against Heelan' throbbers who'll be
the only resistance in this legend's quest to be a
treble-winning Celtic manager.
Good luck with that, ya monster-hiders.
MIBBERY - 1/10
A surrender, of spectacular magnitude.
Mr. C of The Shamen gets sent off after a VAR check;
surely it was Hun-on-Hun incest then?
No!
It was against us! Little Nick could hardly
believe it. Gollum coughed it up like a furball.
We laughed at the charade, then laughed
incredulously as the red came out.
They've had enough, and they've finally taken
the knee to the righteous Kings.
OVERALL - 2/10
Because that's where we are - 2 in a row, 8 to go.
CHAMPIONS!
And somewhere in-between might best summise a 6-7
rated total effort where the Gorgie festering menace
rattled about us for the entire first-half and the Bhoys
took a while to get it together.
But they knew the score, managed the game, and left it
at 2 and home and hosed for the justly-deserved honours.
CHAMPIONS!
It might have appeared that a reasonable delay to our crowning
was coming on this Slaver Empire Coronation weekend.
But soon as the MIBs switched the Butcher's Apron for the white
flag, the Bhoys put the foot to the gas, took off the seatbelts
- a fitting tribute to Diana - and smashed the final nails
into Lizzie's XI's coffin.
CHAMPIONS!
Ah, what a memorable, historical weekend it's been.
Capped at night by the 'You'll Never Walk Alone' rendition
in Charlie's tax-funded concert, that left the entire Hun
establishment shuffling uneasily and gazing at their shoes
as big bad and blind genius Andrea Bocelli belted it out so
beautifully across the swathes of monarchist gimps.
"That's for the fucking 97 Reds and the Champion Hoops!
Roon yeez imperialist dugs!" he bellowed out in archaic
Tuscan lingo at the end, missed by many.
Now we look ahead to TEN once more, by my calculations
just around 2030 as the Huns choke on their new King Billy...
Oh, the syzygy...
Go Away Now, CHAMPIONS
Sandman
You never stop 
