SANDMAN’S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC @ THE METH STAR
“People shouting ‘Yoda!’ at me just because it’s the release of the new Star Wars week are disgusting – I look nothing like him; he’s green.”
Anne Budge.
“The Rebels have come to town. Send in the clones to face them…”
Darth Vader, Sith Hum Lord.
“A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away… The Zombies thought they were ra peepul. How we laughed…”
Star Wars opening scroll, ‘Episode X – The Quadrophenia Rebel Treble’
THE WALL – 7/10
He’s ten feet tall and saves the ball. Solid and uncompromising tonight – got absolutely everything correct when he came for the ball. Inspires great confidence in his defenders.
Also left the locals astounded as they’d never seen a real Wookie in the flesh before.
PINGPONG – 6.5/10
The Force is strong in this one. And it had to be as he ran the gauntlet in front of screeching monstrosities.
But he’s our Baby Yoda, first kid in a generation (well, since KT) to show such phenomenal promise and power.
Jedi will he be, right now he’s just put in another solid performance full of energy which also required that he showed some grit.
HAYES – 6/10
A pitch like YPres, taking him back to Christmas 1914 in the muddy foxholes. Fitting, as the Minis trump on
about their lost battalion, and Jonny knew most of them. He was one of our bhoys the evening’s conditions suited
– trenchfoot nothing new or troublesome to the Green Time-Warrior.
As hapless a first half hour as anyone, loose balls and mistiming. Assaulting unfortunate Jambos as he flashed-back
to lethal hand-to-hand encounters with Kaiser Jaeger squads. Came onto a winger’s game second period as he ran at them and linked well to create. An off-balance night for him, a mix of great play and very careless errors.
JULLIEN CLARY – 7/10
Believing he was in the scottish capital of sophistication, he appeared genuinely startled at the slavering barbarity around him and took a while to settle into a commandeering role.
Not too comfortable sometimes when there are players running at him, but as far as positional blocking is
concerned, he’s top quality, displayed in the final segment of the game as we sat deep.
AJER – 6.5/10
Felt the pressure early on, hustled out of his usual stoical game. Sometimes he’s too nice to the trolls
who seek to disrupt him. And he’s met plenty of them back home under bridges. Difference between a Norwegian
Troll and a Scottish one? The Rangers tap…
Mercy in a Viking is not a trait for battle, young Ironside – expect what you get; hunted and persecuted by Zombies everywhere, particularly those with whistles who throw you a card for zip-all. Once he loses the pleasant air of earnest competitive spirit and starts kicking more heids aff brass necks, we’ll have our defensive superstar.
See Broony Wan Kenobi for such instruction, young Ajer of The North.
BROON – 7.5/10
If Hibs play at the bottom of his garden, Hearts are somewhere in the compost heap. Most important to Broony at Swinecastle is getting his card early on – he calls them his ‘collectables’ – and another yellow for the record settled him down so he could get to dominating them properly. Phew, thanks for that Boaby Madun…
You’ll not win a lightsaber battle with Broony – well, unless you’re Jamesy. Ladies… – and the skipper likes
to be in the thick of it. Once he got their measure tonight we asserted total control and but for luck would have been out of sight with game-time to spare. Broony knows how to win a big game, psychologically as well as physically.
SAM JACKSON – 7.5/10
That’s SLAM! Jackson to you, Muthas! SLAM! Finished like a righteous Mutha with a god-daym hand-cannon in the boot that’s got the cushioned caress of a Mia Wallace hand job. Didn’t need scriptures to know this Mutha had no Christmas presents in his case – it belongs to that mutha Marcellus Wallace anyway, Muthas – and he DAYM well wasn’t dishin’ out anythin’ but righteous WRATH to these unrighteous God-ugly Muthas. When this cat had the rythym of the game his movement and touch and passin’ were MUTHU****IN’ Top Cat top class, Muthas.
CALMAC – 7.5/10
Frustrated out his box and never in theirs – summed up his first quarter. Then the spaces opened and the metronomical
maestro began to tick in time with his midfield henchmen – lifting the tempo and releasing Sam Jackson to maraud and
Broon to do what he does best; smash pseudos. Second-half Calmac really got to work, tickling their baws as they were tempted out of positions he ran into, played others in or just exploited with some neat switches of play.
CHRISTIE – 8/10 MOTM
So he followed the bright star East and found a joint not fit for some sheep, coos and a donkey, never minds the eleven kings who took to it’s green patch of moss, or ‘pitch’ as they monickered it.
I’ve said before it’s the Son Of Man’s class that can make the difference and he pulled it out the bag tonight like one of his holy tricks – miracles, that’s it – and just swept in the important first goal with a graceful sidestep and strike that would have also won him his favourite show – Strictly.
Once he’d revealed his true identity, those heathen scum in their zombie-blood coloured outfits got the fear and stood off us more, allowing Corpus to Holy Ghost around and create havoc they never recovered from. This was the game which his quality turned in our favour before it turned into a teeth-gritting scrap.
FORREST – 6.5/10
Jamesy the Ewok – cuddly and deadly. At times posed all the threat of a three-foot high alien teddy bear – extraordinary miss from him when clean through. But then pulled out (steady, girls…) a flash – yup – of magic to delay, delay, delay…Yes, ladies) and set up the Mutha when it looked lost. Tormented them second half – we just never got him on the ball enough to finish them like the scabby rabid dugs they are.
FRENCH EDDY – 6.5/10
Sharper and sharper as the game went on. Bobbly surface didn’t suit him as he played the shoulder first-half – one brilliant bit of guile to combine for the opening goal, second half he looked like killing it, but nope… Denied by a post and some crucial last-ditch blocks. Hat-trick coming up Saturday.
SUBS –
BITTON – N/A
New deal Monday. Old dump Wednesday. Swaggered on late to add calm and steel.
GRIFF – 6/10
It’s not Star Wars when Griff’s around, girls, it’s ‘Satyr Wars’. And that’s no misspelling, wink, wink. Could he find a desperately sought goal to lift the away end roof? Damn close when sharp to latch onto a back-pass – hilariously invoking an offside call from the angst-ridden bear with the flag. Soon, Leigh, soon…
LENNONY – 7.5/10
Things are tight in Auld Reekie this Christmas – nobody fancied donating any coins to Lennony’s seasonal bonus. Still no Sincy, still Freeman Jr. hovers around the dugout like a Dickens ghost. Amazingly, Lennony never played him, despite the visitations.
Tonight was all about strength and fortitude – he picked a midfield to cope and eventually they did, repaying his faith by overcoming the flurries of resistance and making enough openings to win handsomely. Another tricky away job done well. Now to Saturday.
OVERALL – 7.5/10
It’s Star Wars week and a trip to Edinburgh’s dark Side was in order; First Order (see what I did there, Kylo Ren fans…). A stadium upgraded to resemble the Mos Eisley Cantina, but with uglier, less civil inhabitants.
So as the hordes of squeaking Jawas turned their beady maroon eyes upon the Rebel forces, it remained to be seen if this was to be a pivotal night in the NINE.
Three things to avoid at the Meth Star – The smell. The views. Getting involved in a grungy battle. We seemed to find the third unavoidable – slack and lacklustre, we invited those miscreants into the game, never got a foothold. Another Livi looked possible…
Then, like Han solo, we shot first. Bam! Bam! You’re deid, Greedos, like yer big cousins.
Eventually, our class told. The Bhoys raised their game, blew them away, should have been a more handsome margin of victory but there’s not a lot of handsomeness around that hive of villainy so we’ll take the two to nil.
A word on Madden – first real sign of the sleekit nonsense beginning to taper in. Big Ironside’s booking: WTF? For being a Bhoy around an area of controversy. It’s the old Scottish ref classic – book an opponent and also sneak a Bhoy into the book under the guise of culpable affray. Ham shanker. But a sign of the times to come in 2020.
Another outpost of the Evil Empire overcome by the Rebels.
17 down. 21 to go. May the Force be with us.
Go Away Now.
Sandman. Off to the movies.
