SANDMAN’S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC @ DIDDLE-DI-DEE UNTITLED…
BANE – 6.5/10 – Bloodied but unbowed, got a clean sheet for his troubles despite being left to bleed out as we chased a winner. He’ll not take off his mask again after that…
JONJO O’NEILL – 7/10 MOTM – Cheltenham’s coming up so his fitness needed tweaking as the going will be soft/heavy. We got another display of professional competence from a guy who must be wondering what the hell he walked into.
RAQUEL – 6.5/10 – Arrived in the city to unexpected fanfare as she was immediately crowned Miss Dundee. And nearly used the crown to knock in a header from a corner – yes, you read that correctly; a decent corner – but denied by a good/lucky save. One more solid outing to boost the experience points.
AJER – 6.5/10 – Cannot fault his driving determination; cannot afford to lose his services. But we no doubt will. Piled onto them with his usual commitment as he got involved both ends like a Scandinavian porn star. At least he went down fighting like a proper Viking.
DREXL – 5/10 – Melt it, Drexl, smash it like it was one of your dealers skimming off the top! Should have given us the lead but opted for placement rather than power which he’d employed earlier. Sometimes you think he’s a proper player then comes a wasteful aberration and the dreads suit the pothead gangsta shtick.
BROON – 6/10 – Pass of the game midway second half as Broon strived to show he’s still got it. Battled as ever for control and did enable our dominance; fault lay further forward than his remit.
CALMAC – 5.5/10 – Another livelier opening put him in pivot spot between the lines, to good effect. Until we got into their box. Then Calmac reverted to season type and the sting was gone, followed by the now customary slow fade out after the break.
CORPUS CHRISTIE – 2/10 – Could have put a sheet over him and pretended he was a ghost, as he floated around like a conceptual artist attempting to mime how the changes of the season affect his menstruation through the medium of dance. Appeared ocassionally around their box, second half to cause fleeting alarm before reverting to self-preservation mode as the title slipped away and Corpus hopes he can, too, in the summer.
EDDIE TURNBULL – 6/10 – On edge after Captain Tom died, as Eddie’s now the oldest living mobile human being on the planet. Appeared more of a threat today, ironically, than he has been – and was finding just the right space
to open them up nicely before becoming the subject, and subbed victim, of this game’s What The Actual Hell mystifying management riddle.
ELSHAGYONLASSIE – 3/10 – Utilising that stealth mode once more, he appeared out of the ether like the invisible man on a break to collect a yellow card near half-time. Clancy Drew used up all his special spray covering Moi just so he could be seen. Which drew him out of hiding, twice, to screw one wide and miss a sitter which sealed the watching Zombies’ man-of-the-match vote.
FRENCH EDDY – 5.5/10 – Alone again. Well, you know – Moi? lol – French for ‘me’ i.e soon as Eddy sees that on the team-sheet he knows it’s a solo. Toughed it out and could have scored more than one – at the point of pulling the trigger again before taking one twist too many…
Fact one: when we play him with a proper strike partner and give him proper service, he’s dynamite.
Fact two: No Celtic manager will comprehend this until he’s gone.
Fact three: He’s nearly gone.
SUBS:
ROGIC – N/A – A reverse pass glimpse of the Oz glory days. That aside, meandering and ineffectual.
JAMESY – N/A – 12 min game time. Introductions to new players took 10.
GRIFF – N/A – Back in his favourite romantic spot. Couldn’t score again, though.
JFK – 5/10 – Turnbull? Whit about Corpus! Elshag! Baffling sub tradition continued in tribute to Lennony as the lively creative point of the diamond gets hooked, at 0-0, with 25 minutes to go, in another must-win. The swell of goodwill since his fan media press conference frittered to a ripple of ‘meh’ as a very conservative, tried and tested – and failed – team took the coofield. We got nothing we haven’t seen all season – enterprising spells bearing no fruit, dominance dissipating into shaky uncertainty.
If JFK wanted to impose his own style upon the side, with his limited window of opportunity, he’s certainly not showing his cards yet. He’s got a fortnight to come up with something devastating and potent, otherwise we’ll be assuming the new President’s brain is missing.
OVERALL – 4/10 – A familiar pattern. Must win. Can’t win. Look good, energised, can’t maintain it, lack bite, end deflated and miserable. Across the city, the morally and fiscally bankrupt 2012ers perversely and inversely repeat history and have an unfancied team of journeymen stop a historic Ten-in-a-Row. And they didn’t even have a Henrik.
The saddest thing of all is that their players will deserve it for sheer focussed application and endeavour. They didn’t even really require the witchcraft we knew was in abundance.
Celtic overestimated their own capabilities through the covid summer of 2020, failed to prepare for a fight, and underestimated the desperation of a management and team who were in the last-chance saloon with reputations and careers on the line.
The humiliation for Gerrard and the Zombies being swept aside by Celtic yet again would have been career breaking. They set out to do everything they could to prevent that; they’re unbeaten at this point – we should be too.
Now the streets will be filled with gurning Monkeys out to celebrate in style by panning in some RC heids; their hubris and delusion will know no end until the universe is set aright again, probably by financial armageddon, hopefully catalysed by summer CL qualification failure.
It won’t come via this Celtic team, who have managed to wreck the dream of generations by their lack of professionalism. 18 points behind a patchwork Zombie squad, title gone on the 7th of March with two derbies
still to play. This has been a retro early 90s season throwback like no other.
The players should give up the millions in wages they’ve been paid for this debacle; hand it to charity, do some good out of it all. There’s still the cup, of course, but lifting that on the back of what we’ve witnessed would incur a ‘Yay’ with all the enthusiasm of a ten year-old being told he’s going back to school, while a lone seal claps in the
background. The TEN was THE prize.
Meanwhile the first time champions visit on the 21st. Will we give them a guard of honour? Should these players be made to? Would many of them care?
A decade of belief and hope chucked. Before the flaming clocks have even gone forward. I’d tell them to hang their heads in shame but I fear some would bump their chins on their chests and be out for a month.
Gone Away Now.
Sandman
