Sandman’s Definitive Ratings: Celtic Fool-Backs at Charles Green’s Allotment…
“Man Has Drink And Gets Drunk!” Brave Scottish media hacks expose Neil Lennon’s tut-tutting, sweetie-wifie-triggering, scandalous behaviour.
BANE – 6/10 – “The darkness. You think it is your ally? I was born in it, moulded by it,” he growled in defiance of the stench emanating from the rotting hulk around him. Those crumbling stands, though empty, poured down upon the pitch a sibilant lament of a million undead , metaphysical echoes of hate and sectarian bile, of racist curses and jibes from the world’s most loathsome. And the master villain turned hapless goal-tender as the first flaffed past him and then a second born of betrayal by his two fool-back henchmen. That aside, little business his way apart from need to snaffle an Alfie pass-back second period. Bane still remains the second-best footballer in the defence…
JONJO O’NEILL – 3/10 – Horses for courses they say. Well, he fell at the first hurdle last time out in the Donkey Derby, so today we looked for clean jumping. Sadly, he should have been shot at Aintree. Where he should be sent next month. Career advice: Jockey.
DREXL – 2/10 – Send a ghetto-gangsta into Scotland’s worst ghetto to dish out some discipline; Makes sense. Then he spent his brief time on the park looking completely confused and rolling about like he was dodging bullets: “They got everything here from a diddled-eyed Joe to danged if I know.” Hooked at half-time. 45 minutes too late. Career advice: Pimp.
RAQUEL – 5/10 – Far too pretty for the surroundings, yet so experienced with dinosaurs and neolithic civilisations, also perfectly at home. There’s a sign at the Celtic Academy that reads: ‘Kick the ball INTO their goal, and AWAY from OUR goal.’ Sadly, the kid’s only memorised half of that. Yet had the mettle to recover composure after his quick impression of our forward line. Career Advice: Nascent Celtic centre-back.
AJER – 6.5/10 MOTM – Burn, rape, pillage! The viking mantra we dearly wish to see fully implemented in the Garden Of Sodom. He tried. Carrying the burden of defensive stalwart AND midfield agressor, he did as he has done for nine months and gave it his all. Popped up in their box, also popped a shoulder; returned to the
fray where others would’ve seized on the chance to puss-out. Career Advice: Jump this sinking ship. Or stay and captain it.
BROON – 6/10 – The swansong is upon us. Death or glory. Legs gone by the hour, run ragged as he stood solo upon the burning deck. Yet…WHO was the one crunching into the first tackle of the second half to set up Eddie T from range? WHO was the one crunching into a tackle and winning the free-kick on the edge of their box that led to the penalty with ten minutes left? Scott Broon; The man who questionably shouldn’t have started or been anywhere near the action with ten to go. Battling to the bitter end as his last chance of silverware was squandered by the impostors in Hoops around him. Broon, shaming them all. Career Advice: Skelping-Sheep-Legend-in-Waiting.
CALMAC – 4/10 – From their match-winner to… their match-winner? Calmac’s legacy this season will be to shade Kent as their most dangerous player against us. Gifting them the ball on a few occasions, briefly appearing in vintage style to ignite our first-half flurry. But overall, this is Calmac playing from memory, and it’s like he’s wandered out the care home in search of Vera Lynn. Career advice – Leicester squad player.
CORPUS CHRISTIE – 2/10 – Being sent into actual purgatory was a shocker for him. But he overcame his existential terror to enjoy a fun game of hide and seek with his buddy Moi. He won, seeing out the 90. Like a shiftless imposter. Career Advcie: Listen to yer Da.
EDDIE TURNBULL – 5.5/10 – He’s old and he is beautiful, and his colours they are fine. Green and white he’s wearing still, and he’ll waste your orange party time. Or so the song goes… But he didn’t, ironically defied by a colourful weirdo in orange – 28/1 Eddie T to score from outside the box and that deranged pest had to be in top form… This Eddie certainly looked more than capable but our inflexible malfunctioning tactics left him too short of involvement, and us experiencing excruciating frustration. Career advice: Celtic attacking pivot.
ELSHAGYONLASSIE – 1/10 – The great enigma. Smooth class top bhoy, or shyster, hiding bar steward who only does it when the pressure’s off? Guess what…Today, a vestigal presence that took a half-time call to Ghostbusters to flush out. Whereby he actually created a chance, then reverted to CraigyWhytebaggery to stagger like a Lennony in a Carlisle pub when presented with an absolute sitter as French Eddy returned the favour. Looked disgruntled when spotted and subbed, thereby losing the hide-and-seek challenge to Corpus. Hopefully this effort will discourage those among us with a homoerotic crush on him just because he can savage the mighty Hamilton and Livi. He may look like Commodus, but he’s more a christian to the lions than emperor. Career Advice: Hide-and-seek world Champion in the making.
FRENCH EDDY – 4/10 – Isolated all season, smashed by covid, frequently accused of wearing the all-important wrong facial expression when the incompetents around him were chucking the title, yet…STILL manages to be top scorer in the country, way beyond the lauded Quatermass Experiment in Empire Blue. Go figure that. Go estimate what could have been… What a waste of his talent this campaign has been. What a slaughtering he’ll get tonight for his impact on this game. Yet, he DID have an impact. And he DID actually appear on telly. And yes, he DID mess it up, majorly. But you saw him. Yet again, toiling alone, looking deflated. Even tried to get us on par with one marvellous attempt at a ‘fancy’ which, as every kid who ever played ‘heiders and volleys’ in the schoolyard will know count DOUBLE. Then he set up the invisible man, made and missed a penalty.
Please note this – Eddy at his most dangerous is advancing from an old inside-forward Bobby Lennox positions, deeper, collecting, timing, turning, running at them, with a STRIKE PARTNER to play off and create that space for him – THAT’S how the fluid, dynamic kid was coached all his promising youth, developed by top French technicians. And he comes here and lights it up, and then we try to turn him into Crawford Baptie.
And the support screech at him, even though they surely can read? Surely the stats tell a story of abject negligence and utter failure to capitalise on his talent? Nah, let’s all scapegoat the best player we’ve got until he heads off. Jesus wept. Career Advice: Big Euro side, full French international; cos he’s ‘too lazy’ for Celtic.
SUBS:
GREGGS THE BAKER – 5/10 – Spent much of his time considering where to put his bakery concession in the layout of this future retail park. Final ball still had the quality of Friday’s sausage rolls.
THE YETI -N/A – Enjoyed a jog across the pitch to stretch the legs.
GRIFF – N/A – Tired, but happy to settle for a point.
JFK – 3/10 – Go pump them 7-0, we said. Eh, naw. Go play a duo up front and terrorise them, we said. Eh, naw.
Go play like we have been all season and chuck it, we didn’t say. Aye. Go start as impotent as Alan Carr in a harem, we didn’t say. Aye. Go press them like Phil trying to prise up the coffin lid, we didn’t say. Aye.
Mess up. Sleep. Repeat. Mess up. Sleep. Repeat. So long, JFK. The last chance saloon just stopped your tab.
As for the suitors… First rule of being offered the Celtic manager’s job: You do not ‘wait to see.’ Second Rule of being offered the Celtic manager’s job: You do not ‘weigh up options.’ Third Rule of being offered the Celtic manager’s job: You take it.
OVERALL – 3/10 – So Celtic crossed the River Styx once more to walk in the footsteps of Odysseus and the souls of the dead came swarming up. We brought our own Achilles to this underworld in captain Broon, unhappy with his lot, seeking vengeance for the early death of his dream of TEN.
And the curse of that TEN season perpetuates; the return of The Flash gave us hope, but it turned out to be just that – a flash of optimism before Jamesy disappeared from the team-sheet again quicker than a wotsit dipped in an empty pint glass.
The law of averages defies the current reality. Or vice versa. At some point the real Celtic had to turn up this season. At some point the witchcraft would fail the dastardies, and at some point Bobby Madden… No. No, he’s still a knob…
And you have to give it to Bobby – up all night tending goats to generate enough magik to sabotage Jamesy’s fitness test, yet he still finds time to prance around his dream palace chasing after his crush, camp kapo Kent, wearing Anne Summers frillies under his regulation kit and brandishing cards at anyone who brushes shoulders with the rancid wee winger.
We played from the start with a defeated sense of dread – the demeanour of Lenny Henry, who’s been called to the palace to ‘comfort’ the Queen. A malfunctioning Celtic side that still created enough chances to gub them despite being generally poor.
Champions League automatic qualification for next season’s champions should spark the stupefied suits into life. Gut it to the bones. Go spend, go get, go build, go win.
Go Away Now.
Sandman
