Sandman’s Definitive Ratings – Celtic at The O.K. Corral

SANDMAN’S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC @ THE O.K. CORRAL…

“Ooh Baby, we know that he’s Crapp, John Lundstram stole my hubcaps.” – Belinda Carlisle, from ‘Heaven Is No Place On Earth For Plastic-Hardmen Scousers’.

ROXIE – 6.5/10 – ‘I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together. And Joe Hart will save a pen.’ Martin
Luther King. So close, big man. One day, MLK will be homaged.

GREGGS THE BAKER – 7/10 – His tireless industry is what wins such encounters. Sharp and combative from the first whistle, shrugging off the VAR handicap and spurring on the team with focus and invention; Angeball’s
surprise archetypal exponent.

STAR LORD – 7/10 – Faultless. Nearly. Mishap late on around halfway but prior to that, particularly at one down, his mind and body were in defensive harmony, allowing his phantasmagorical racoon to beat the rhythm
out on a drum in the away end; or at least that’s what Star Lord believes, and we’re not going to tell him otherwise if he’s on it properly like today.

GET CARTER – 7/10 – Comical moment of the day goes to the Ange and Cam double-act and their wry contention over the big stopper’s searching ball through ball to the Green Brigade. St.Mirren’s physicality brings out the best in CCV and he’s as rugged as they get when it’s man-on-man (put it away, Ryan) with no quarter
given or asked. Another solid, class, and sterling performance.

WAYNE GRETZKY – 8/10 MOTM – Ice Hockey is it? Well there’s plenty hockey sticks seen around Paisley,
but you’ll be hard pressed to find a puck. Instead, they use heids, which is exactly what AJ did as he body-slammed their fullback, the ball and the keeper into the net/post and bounced away unscathed in first-goal
ecstacy. But glory moment aside, did you see his first-half? Tremendous support and use of the ball, lost in a general malaise as we struggled overall. Come the period of domination he was involved in every positive thrust and integral to the siege. Missing a JJ? Not when you’ve got an AJ.

CALMAC – 7.5/10 – There’s always one in this Celtic side, and it’s usually the captain. Ridiculous metronomic turnover, stoically refusing to pander to any crestfallen mindset – he relentlessly prompted and prodded the Baddies midfield banks until their resistance caved. Robust intensity can get you so far shackling Calmac, but it’s his mental alertness that will beat you in the end. He seems gifted with a level of focussed acuity that would have Gary Kasparov asking for a beer break.

MOOEY – 6.5/10 – “I’m ready, mayte, just whistle when.”…”Sorry, it’s Damien Dallas on VAR, gimme the ball back.”

So Mooey’s big moment was cancelled by the scheming skulduggery of Beelzeebub’s spawn. It didn’t faze him – let’s be fair, nothing does – and he Mooey-ed his way into the game much as last week so that by the time the knife was needing twisted, he was there with his cultured boots on the hilt, piling on the agony, turning on the
style…

HAKUNA HATATE – 6/10 – Such a giving person is Reo. Viewing his surroundings as worse than the Fukushima reactor disaster, he attempted to get refurbishment underway by taking off the crossbar with a first-half nuclear missile. Then was thwarted again, then denied by the low defensive block time and again. Again! Until he honourably surrendered to fate and quit to save himself for the Minis. Again.

LORD KATSUMOTO – 3/10 – Aesthetically disturbing to Daizen, he refused to recognise the stadium as anything other than poorly-drawn anime and was subbed at half-time. A mild surprise, as we thought Ange had
mistaken him for Jota; Let’s face it, they’ve both got moustaches..

DEADLY NIGHTSHADE – 6.5/10 – Not since The King Of Kings have we seen such perpetual movement
from a Celtic striker. Hardly touched the ball but caused irritating chaos and drained defenders mentally until…A mistake to be pounced on emerges and he’s on it, and down, and we have a pivotal moment. Worth his weight in Bitcoin. Not gold – because he weighs about the same as an Action Man. Or Action Wummin for the Woke hysterics. (Read ‘GI Joe’ for Americans of toxic masculinity…)

NOTEBOOK – 6.5/10 –

‘That flamin’ Jota, man – he’s way aff it the day; cannae kick his ain fuckin’ ar…YAAAAAS! Flamin’ genius!’

And so Big Ange’s questionable faith in his sand-dancing wayward waif becomes a given – A flick of the boot and sparkle of fairy dust turned him from prancing around like Ryan Kent identifying as Tinkerbell into the match-winning Portuguese Man O’ War we know and love. Suddenly it was Jota on the wing and not Jota on the bench as he sparked the 20-minute rout that had them vomiting up their Sunday Buckie & Black Puddin’ lunches all over Zombieland.

SUBS –

THE BUILDER – 6/10 – Strike one! Classy Danish kid strokes one in with his standing foot and we’re losing count as he finally opens his league account for the season.

OH BHOY – 6/10 – Poor penalty, but who’s not smiling with him as he takes the tug (put it away, Ryan) and then takes the pen, somehow managing to oxter-nutmeg the keeper with it; must be a Korean speciality move…

ABADASS – 7.5/10 – It’s Moshe Whizz on to tear you up! Once the ubiquitous Abadass sliced-cross was safe in possession of the GB, he segued into a stunning cameo, assisting, and lashing in his own beauty. A thorn in their crown, leading his people towards the promised land with scintillating impact. (See what I did there, Sunday Biblical scholars?).

TONIO IWATAO – N/A – Copperfield, hang yer heid. David Blane, eat yer heart out (probably has that stunt in the works, come to think of it). How on earth did Tonio manage that? – On for Saint Helen Mirren, then ten minutes later also taking his place in the Celtic midfield. Twin Tonys. Mindblowing. What next – making the Staue Of Libertydisappear?

HACKY SACK – N/A – Another interesting contribution as he exercises his hypnotic ability on the ball. High hopes for his run-in participation.

ANITA DOBSON – 7.5/10 – ‘Whit’s Ange daein, leaving on flamin’ Jota when he’s been sh…YAAAS!
Different-level management, man…” And so the Boss makes like a Boss and cuts and thrusts (put it away, Ryan)
at one-down, knowing the injection of direct action required as we mull over a frustrating first 45. Could we comeback on this ‘jinx’ park? Even against a ten-man defensive wall? Never a doubt in Ange’s mind. Never a chink in the Angeball armour which only reinforces the more we get on the front foot. Tick another big win off. And then Tick-tock, dear Zombies…

MIBBERY – 5/10 – Ah, young Damien on VAR, you tried your best. Now return to Satan’s bosom to grieve and count the pound coins of yesteryear. There’s no room left for whatboutery – the Zombie penalty awards (and non-penal awards) are now on the level of arthouse satirical comedy after yesterday’s Andy Kauffman-scripted farce at Mordor and young Damien’s interpretation of the latest rules today; if the foul continues into the box it’s a penalty. But hey, this is Scotland. This is Zombie country. Screw FIFA…However, away home and cry harder, ya wee Zombie.

OVERALL – 7.5/10 – I hate that grey strip; bad luck. Never a Celtic strip in million Zombie incarnations. I hate that venue too – Love Street was a joy in ’86, this modern sterile meccano shed of resonating boos and ranting pseudo-Zombies is a grim proposition on a dull Sunday morning; portents of bad luck. And as it transpired, the ghosts of September past were haunting us all the opening 45. So what did Ange do at Half-time? Called in an exorcist and dispelled gloomy superstition in favour of luminescent football and sparkling glory.

The brow-beating prospect of breaking down their ten standing warriors – and they’re probably one of the best Scottish teams at organising a resolute low block – became not so much a meticulous ritual, than we just turned on the cannons and drowned them in Holy water. Barely time to pour and finish a pint than we’d smashed in five, and even the banal grey top was looking stylised and shiny.

How a handful of goals can brighten even a day like today, eh Zombies? And if I’m counting right, we just lapped them on goal-difference. A sweet finale to get the juices flowing (put it away, Ryan) for Wednesday’s evening of schadenfreude relish as Steptoe’s whinging tailor brings his macabre collection of Zombie replicants to Mordor to take the Founder’s Tour ‘Four Lads Had A Bad Dream’ (Charles Green, Craig Whyte, Satan, and Charlie Manson) before coming to Paradise to get flaming savaged. Happy Days.

Go Away Now

Sandman