SANDMAN’S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC v Living In A Box (A cardboard box)
“When I say I nearly signed for Rangers, whit I mean is that Watty and Big Dickie Gough offered me a quickie in a car park as long as I signed an NDA. Eh, naw.”
“I waaaant leeeev. I want no play heeeer for Hon no more. Fock you Chreesmas weesh. My Chreesmas weesh, I go to fock from heeeer.”
Alfredo Morelos Xmas message to the Zombies
THE WALL – 7/10
Most notable first-half involvement for our purple monolith – steady girls… – was his involvement in the opener – long ball to Eddy that broke for the eventual set-up. A goal that would NEVER have been scored under The Snake.
Adacious keepy-uppie display in the face of their growling bull-dyke antagonist to entertain himself and the crowd later on.
PINGPONG – 8.5/10 MOTM
Spent a few anxious minutes at the start looking over his shoulder for Prince Andrew, but once Broony assured him it was itty-bitty-titty-teenies the royal ponce was into and Epstein was deid – though he didn’t kill himself… – our wee dynamo settled into what has become a pleasing norm: energised persistence up the right flank.
Bright as a button on his school blazer, early chance as he entertained us with his skill, our Baby Yoda reprised his Mandalorian (watch it, spaghetti western sci-fi fans, it’s great) part to bamboozle their hired thugs all day.
Blitzed them with his pace and generally enjoyed himself as the stands quaked with angst until the killer second. Was desperate to get a goal, but luckless. Next time, use the force, young one, use the force…
AJER – 7/10
Viking time of year. Rain, cold, dreich, stadium heights rising around him like monumental fijords – perfect storm for young Ironside to thunder into battle and wade in gore. Yet he didn’t need to; they were far from the hyped-up battling warriors they are on their own melted-celebrity-implant pitch. He cruised, like a longship up the Clyde.
JULLIEN CLARY – 7.5/10
A frustrating day was had back in our miserable Explorerville defeat. This afternoon he once again faced up to their troublesome gigantor lesbian forward. Drew a booking from her/it/Ms/Mz/Zog before the end of the first 45. Skelped some lovely passes from deep as he suaved-around magnificently superior, like a catwalk model at a Govanite speed-dating evening.
HAYES – 6.5/10
Last seen in the Celtic Xmas video demonstrating how he built actual planes from cardboard back in his WW1 stint. Bravely took the field today despite being clipped by a sniper’s bullet yesterday/105 years ago as the battle of Ypres petered out into a muddy stalemate. That arm flesh wound forced him off just into the second half today after a swashbuckling 45 in which our quantum-realm journeyman again displayed his worth.
BROON – 7.5/10
Considering a return to the Scotland squad just to invoke the biggest ironical calls of glory-hunting ever known, from the entire Ibrox support – none of whom had even heard of Deidco until 1986 and the arrival of Robocop and The Beast. Prowled about the middle looking for a revenge sacrifice. Found one in the most unlikely of Broon manners by thrashing the ball off their big thunderheid centre-back into the net and goading him on the way past to celebrate. Unable to resist picking up a late booking for booting big militant feminist in the baws. Captain Marvel, job done again, vengeance was his, lol.
CALMAC – 7/10
Set to it quickly, getting involved to establish his, and his team’s, rythm early. Gave us a platform to launch at them, let Oz wander to effect and Corpus romp about. Quiet but effective control of the game.
CORPUS CHRISTIE – 6.5/10
It’s his birthday next month, around the 25th, so he’s feeling old (approx 2020 if the fairytales are to be believed…). You wouldn’t think so as the Son Of Man performed The Miracle Of Returning To Action.
Playing more right-sided than usual, he did a fair amount of timeous floating through their block without impact, waiting until the stars aligned. They didn’t, as he poked one wide, stealing a cert off wee pingpong, stung their keeper’s gloves. Ultimately, no matter; save them for December, Corpus.
FORREST – 7.5/10
The Prestwick Xmas lights go on tomorrow, with a flash no doubt, and we hope it’s Jamesy flicking the switch; Not with his finger though, ladies… Today, the Finest Celtic Player Never To Have An Original Song Conjoured For Them was harrassing Livingston’s own finest. Linking with Eddy to rip them up, everything he produced was threatening (Ladies…), only the finish lacked. Then he pounced, and fairly slapped in a deserved third then our fourth to gild the lily. Did he use his boot? Fill in your own, oo-ers.
ROGIC – 7/10
Ah, a year gone by without the swaggering guile of Oz really on show. Then he shows up on a dreich Scottish day during the Aussie summer to remind us he’s just been in the wings tuning up, waiting til his billy boiled and looking like he’s ready to come back and boil some Billies on his own next month. What an asset if we can maintain his fitness and form through December. Showed his class with his opposing choice of big kangaroo foot to set up Eddy. Sharper, he might have had another for us before half-time. Promising shift.
FRENCH EDDY – 7.5/10
Dear Santa, please stop the Gallic Wunderkind scoring at international level. But keep doing this against SPL chain-gangs! They dug their hole, Eddy filled it, playing on their line, sneaked behind onto the Wizard’s defence-splitter to burst the Newtown Knobs’ game-plan wide open on twenty minutes with a deft finish that was pure striker porn. Annnd, rest.
TAYLOR – 7/10
On as a sub for the guy who might just be his great, great grandfather, young Greg did his great, great grandma’s multi-war-hero wartime shag proud… On that note, almost opened his own scoring record but denied by witchcraft and post. Fits in smartly.
GRIFF – 5.5/10
On came Sparky to salvage his Celtic career. Movement and enthusiasm on-point, just forgot to re-acquaint himself with the moving white sphere, as chances came and went and we all hoped he’d get a confidence-booster. Maybe Thursday, Leigh.
SAM JACKSON – 6/10
Muthu Lennnoy interrupted this Muthu chompin’ on his muthu…in’ Big Kahuna burger and dragged him off the God-Daym! comfortable muthu…in bench for a fifteen-minute stroll. Ran around quoting Ezekiel 25:17 at those yellow-assed Muthuas because it’s the only God-Daym! muthu…in English he knows.
LENNONY – 7.5/10
A sigh of relief. If he’s got a jinx team, it’s Livi. Sorted that. Shuffled the formation a bit which left Corpus somewhat alienated. But if the desired effect was to unsettle Livingston and offset their game-plan, it worked. He’s had two weeks to plan the winning start to a critical run of matches and the result was everything we wanted and required.
OVERALL – 7.5/10
Caught Livingston on the counter, basically, for the first goal, lol, the irony… Spent the rest of the first period anxiously awaiting a second, maybe third to kill it off and rack up the goal difference. Never came. Tensions rose.
But these Bhoys know what’s needed. Clinical and efficient second-half, deflating Omenchild Damien Dallas’ hopes and negating his concept of injury time which seemed fluid and determined by a funny hand shaking algorithm based on time winning-margins. However, we played well, looked inventive, and got the unnecessary evil out the way unscathed. Notch up another scalp on the quest for NINE.
Go away Now.