SANDMAN’S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC @ BROONY’S NEW BACKYARD…
“Yeah, well I’m thinking of knocking through the Beach End, maybe get a hot tub in, wee bar and a dancefloor, games room wi’ some XBoxes so me an’ Jonny Hayes can play Call Of Duty Dublin 1916…” Scott Brown, when questioned on his plans for helping revamp the Aberdeen set-up.
BANE – 6.5/10 – Busy. More than usual, more than he expected, and more than Sunday. Oh, the irony. Irony… Irony.. .So much this season it’s been like the final scene of the final episode of Cheers. (Some classic comedy
fans might see what I did there…). But a smart bit of ‘keeping kept us in it when unsighted, and some good anticipation second-half helped foil their desire to kill the game off. I’d keep the madman for another spell.
JONJO O’NEILL – 5/10 – They Shoot Horses Don’t They? Great film, wrong sentiment – shoot the jockeys. Again, Jonjo looked competent – that deceptive competence which makes him look a player until you realise there’s nothing much behind the appearance that marks him as an exceptional full-back worthy of a Celtic jersey. Because he belongs to Everton anyway. Why didn’t our own player, Tony R, get the gig tonight?
BITTON – 7/10 MOTM – Recovered from his January Mordor shame of being red-carded when caught trying to hump a buffalo. Tonight, well, he’ll get my MOTM vote for two things – first half, trying to pick a defence-splitting
pass down the inside-left channel for Elshag who’d shown out of the ether, turned and then stopped with
a can’t-be-bothered shrug. As Nir popped the pass into no-man’s land, watching it run harmlessly through.
Making Nir look an idiot. But he gave it to the indolent waster good – called him out with a mouthful, and arm gestures basically telling him to get off his backside and make the run. Then Elshag vanished again.
Secondly – outstanding play of the game to deny the Dons a tap-in at the back post for 2-0 ; somehow manages
to guide the ball out for a corner through the narrowest of channels between striker and post as he slid in with
a last-gasp interception to save the jerseys. Brilliant bit of defending.
RAQUEL – 6/10 – ‘We’re gonnae breed ye!’ was the shout from locals bedazzled by her beauty, holding aloft their prize ram as she alighted the team triple-decker bus; a compliment around those parts, I’m led to believe…Well, it didn’t go to her head, nor did it faze her – another top-team notch on the experience belt and another mostly faultless, assured step towards regular involvement when the revolution comes.
GREGGS THE BAKER – 6/10 – Currently in a no-lose situation as he could have staggered around giggling, sucking from a bong all game with no danger of losing his place given how abysmal Drexl was in The Pit. Still a trier, but still lacking the finesse to consistently finish his involvement with class via a telling ball.
BROON – 6/10 – Magnificent double-agenting as he took control of the middle, and then later set up hellspawn Fergieshin for the schadenfreude miss that could have killed the game. All in, the bhoy Broon has been our most consistent, reliable midfielder for the past month; maybe we should sign him…
CALMAC – 6.5/10 – Well, it’s the Calmac we knew, in bursts. Not the game-managing metronome, more like the comical gnome that sits in yer deceased grandma’s garden reminding you of better, sunny days, when the world was a simpler, more joy-filled place; a place where you pumped the Zombies 4-0 one week then 5-0 the next for their cheek, to win cups and leagues and…
Ah, well… Well, at least Calmac cared a bit between disappearances, as we saw when he bust a gut to catch time-hopping ‘Skelper Jonny Hayes.
EDDIE TURNBULL – 6/10 – Flattering to deceive more than impact, most of the game. Yet that’s possibly a product of the current poisoned ecosystem he plays in. When he is loosened up and focussed, he’ll open defences and maybe notch one himself – bad miss then terrific feet could have been a double any other season. He’ll be one carrying the weight of Great Expectations under a new regime. He’s old enough to remember meeting Dickens anyway…
CORPUS CHRISTIE – 1/10 – We’re getting Corpus light until the end of. the season. If only he really had ascended
into heaven a couple of weeks back we’d be spared the pseudo-interest and self-preservation prancing around. He’s not really bothered, so don’t you be either.
ELSHAGYONLASSIE – 1/10 – Not as good at hide-and-seek as he thought he was because JFK keeps finding him and playing him. TV commentary referred to him as a ‘cultured’ player. Maybe, if he comes from a cultural background that has a myth about an invisible wage-thief. But on 60 minutes – caught ye! No! Obviously Eddy was the shiftless one…
Then… 93rd minute he leaps from behind the advertising board, stand-side (‘Damn, I knew it! Thought that’s where he was! Doh!’ – JFK) and flights in the ball for Griff to thumb home. So…there’s yer 1. Out of 10…
FRENCH EDDY – 5.5/10 – Remember what scoring a goal was like? A bit like when he had a strike partner he could see now and then. LOL, French Eddy hits a WTF? patch and they just won’t go in. Their keeper flukes a couple of fine saves with his legs, and Eddy becomes the scapegoat for the fanbase’s angst.
The top scorer. Yeah. Not ‘looking interested’ enough again, probably. The top scorer. In the country. In this
season of seasons; That’s why he’ll go, and we’ll go nowhere, realising we ultimately wasted his ability and the entire reason he was bought for 9 million buckeroos (To PARTNER Moussa, slow readers). Clue was in capitals.
SUBS:
GRIFF – 6.5/10 – On with time to chat to the Dons defenders about how the shaaggin’ was up there in case he transfers. Looked confused when Considine simply replied, ‘Baaaa…’. Then, as is Griff’s superpower – ladies… – he scores with his last touch… Just as well, as his legs had gone.
ROGIC – N/A – Ambled around on a walkabout as if it were the outback. Which it kind of is…
KARAOKE – N/A – Looks bigger, like he’s been stuck in compost for being cheeky and asking for a move. Give us more of him, and put some interest into the final games.
JFK – 3/10 – Dear God, the monotony. Of selection. Of ambition. Playing it safe, JFK? He may have insisted everyone wore a condom, too. Griff wasn’t listening, fnarr-fnarr…
So what we got was a replication of Sunday’s grimly fiendish structure, and predictable outcomes – play stifled through the middle, laborious width exploitation as idiot-backs lagged where wingers were required, and a toiling striker outnumbered and herded by experienced Sheep. More irony.
The like-for-like striker SWAP as we trailed 0-1 was the facepalm of the season. Belter, JFK. You don’t get the Celtic job by setting teams up like Craig Levein.
OVERALL – 4/10 – The tension. A nerve-wracking trip up North to negotiate as the curtain begins to fall upon the epic play that is the pursuit of the TEN… Or that’s how it should have been.
Instead, we gaze on through duty, love, guilt and faith, laden with a sickening blend of pathos, contempt, anger and disgust.
The motions were thoroughly gone through in a game of predictable ennui that could have ended up 3-3 but saw us scrape a last-thumb equaliser. Deserved? Probably. A big nothing burger of a game at Pittodrie with 4 left
in the season; when has such an empty contest ever been the case? How did it come to this? Peter? Neil? Bhoys?Expect new banners outside Celtic Park today: “ANYBODY IN? ANYBODY!”
Let’s go for profile, controversy and headlines – Mourinho in as director of football and the King Of Kings
in the hotseat; Yup, a grand ‘screw it’ to the universe, and let’s get it on, with some madness.
However, back in actual reality… 20 points behind the undefeated 2012/55ers. With a last chance in ten days’ time to slay that particular mutant of a record. Will the players be up for it?
Maybe, just for once this season, and for one last time together as a collective, they will manage to play like…
Girls. Because the Ghirls know how to get it done. Congrats to the Celtic Chickas – that’s how to wear the Hoops with pride.
As for the humiliated, lackadasical men’s squad, pick up yer wages from the office and fu…
Go Away Now.
Sandman
