SANDMAN’S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC @ SMACK ALLEY…
“The Celts must flow!” – Frank Herbert.
“The undead can rise again from most injuries, but a wooden stake through the heart is not one of them.” – Van Helsing.
ROXIE – 8.5/10 MOTM – ‘Sacred’ makes the saves to win the game with her dancing right foot and flamboyant arm. Absolutely, utterly, critically, and many other alys of grave importance were those two killer saves; any of them go in and we’re not winning. After the showmen ahead of him ran out of steam, the choreographer at the back kept the heads in the game and the Hibs at bay. Brilliant keeping and presence. We won an unlikely and rare
timepiece when Ange persuaded him to sign by promising him a sweeper role…
TONY THE TIGER – 8/10 – He’s deadly. Flying in like a Larsson clone to knock in Eddie T’s well-flighted delivery. Heid, foot, or arse – Tony’s goalscoring exploits from right-back will be legendary; the DVD should be out for Xmas: “Tony Twats Them”. Rest of the game, you know what you get when you need it most – Ralston The Brawler, scrapping to the death to preserve the lead.
JURAN JURAN – 6.5/10 – Almsot forgot he was playing, so dominant were our creatives further ahead first half. Then, as we faded he came more into things, not shirking combat in the rain and dug well, taking more punches in the face than Deontay Wilder, playing the last ten looking like Rocky and relying on a guide dug.
GET CARTER – 7.5/10 – Finished his chance like, well, Ralston. Then forgot he was a defender and got cluttered out the way for Hibs goal. But you can’t keep the big man down – or even get the ball off him in the corner as ten Hibs players tried near the end and failed… Bounced off him like the Paris Pastries off Moussa on Hogmanay ’16. All over, solid and determined, looks more match-sharp and fitter each game.
STAR LORD – 7/10 – While the invisible imaginary-friend Racoon was mainlining smack with the casuals in the home stand and providing a cynical Trainspotting voiceover via Star Lord’s ear-pods, the galaxy guardian himself kept his focus in the driving rain, wondering what the hell all the fuss was about with us not having won there since he was imprisoned in some Putin correctional facility. Well, the reality of that reached him in the second-half as we were pinned back and his anxiety was tested to the max. Sorry, OUR anxiety as Star Lord faced a Hibee peppering. But he stood up to it, coming out of his shell for telling involvement when the chips were down and tumbling further.
CALMAC – 7/10 – Patrolled the midfield like a gamekeeper. Dictated our opening dominance, then mystifyingly disappeared off-radar as Hibs became resurgent and threatening. But he was back on it in the latter stages to raise the quality and rally his tired charges to see out the win.
EDDIE TURNBULL – 8/10 – Back on his old stomping ground, celebrated by producing the form that had him in the Famous Five. Sweet delivery to Tony to start proceedings, then a cultured pest around their box. The dig he’s been missing until recently resurfaced when we needed it most, when legs were shaky and quality lost its edge. Never shirked defensive dogging (a popular Edinburgh sport among the posh…) or stopped looking to spark attacks despite heavy legs. Could still do with learning to hit a consistently dangerous corner, mind you.
ROGIC – 8/10 – Oz is a magician in his spare time. And professionally, often. Mesmerising footwork had us frothing with joy, scoring freely and Hibs running up a white flag. If he was a movie he’d be directed by Denis Villeneuve (go see Dune on the big screen it’s really GREAT…) such is the depth of quality in his game. Then, the curse of the babadook struck and he hit the turf; immediately looking uneasy with a dodgy strain, and that was that. Off before half-time, and with the jolly swagman went our swagger. Get an aboriginal healer in right away!
NOTEBOOK – 4/10 – Well, it had to happen. The hair dye’s faded in the rain. And from bouncy pop idol young to depressed teen goth went young Georgandy. He went dark, alright, hardly in the game and apart from one flashing cross, when a big moment came late-on he careless-whispered a wild one at the Green Brigade.
MIKEY J – 5.5/10 – Much expected as he evolved towards a nineties revival but Mikey got stuck in 80s gear (not the New Romantic kind…) and didn’t raise his game above ‘promising sand-dancer’ level. There was some nice footwork and movement, but in a match like this we required a better level of involvement and performance.
MR.KOBAYASHI -7/10 – What a pest. A constant irritation for big defenders and a constant opening for us. Even though we dominated first half-hour we didn’t quite use him to full extent, though he notched one and missed the fourth which would have been game over. That amplified after Oz’s untimely departure, meaning service dried up as we dug in. But the wee mhan puts in a shift, regardless.
SUBS:
Son Of Jackie – N/A – Thrown on looking keen; too keen as he fell about a bit and missed a great headed chance. Combative, however.
BITTON – 6/10 – A defensive replacement for Oz; an assassin for an artist. You can always rely on him to manage a game well from deep midfield and his defensive nous proved valuable to see us through the turbulence.
ABADASS – N/A – Part of a Mossad-double sub operation, his sprightly endeavour was useful to occupy their backline and give us an out-ball.
ANITA DOBSON – 8.5/10 – Thrill ’em, mayte, then chill ’em down. Lined up the side like it was an adventure up Ayer’s Rock, which turned into Picnc At Hanging Rock second-half as our dazzling superheroes began blowing out their rear-ends. But his faith in his dynamic system has transferred to his players, and the bravery to insist on its execution has emboldened the team – though still has not reached the fans by osmosis yet as most of us start screeching and clawing at our faces when we start playing one-twos inside our own six-yard box.
However… Belief will breed faith and we’ll soon stop questioning and start thrilling without reserve as Big Ange
smashes Scottish football around like a Kangaroo boxing a presbyterian missionary.
MIBBERY – 5.5/10 – Well, Brother Robertson tried like a something or other, as the saying goes, but his dark mood due to the commentary from Mordor in his earpiece could only translate into a flurry of shocking calls during Hibs ascendancy. Celtic, simply, are outplaying the MIBs too; the Brothers collective will have to get pretty depraved and kinky with some farmyard animals if they’re to summon enough witch-craftery to avert the inevitable Rise Of The Celtic.
OVERALL – 8.5/10 – A first league win in Begbie’s Backyard since… 7 years? Don’t know. Don’t care to remember. This was a game of two halves, indeed. Dynamic Celtic came out the blocks like Usain Bolt on cocaine, scorched the earth, dismantled Hibs and narrowly failed to rack up a cricket score for our Aussie boss.
☘️ Hibs 1 v 3 Celtic pic.twitter.com/qeOPshe76k
— The Celtic Exchange Podcast 🎙 (@CeltExchange) October 27, 2021
Then momentum went with Oz’s injury and we fell back on stoicism. Of which we don’t have any. Or didn’t seem to, yet recent times have shown this side are gelling into a unit capable of winning Morelos. And that cosmetic offensiveness proved necessary after half-time as the Hibees decided they would have a go at our tiring bhoys.
But we saw it through and emerge with full points from Murderwell, The Sheep, and Renton’s Rovers – October’s
Halloween trick or treat test. One more win to go for a full haunted house. Scared? Not us.
And to hell with Thee Diaz Brothers!
Go Away Now.
Sandman.
