SANDMAN’S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC @ MAROON GOONS & BALLOONS – Part 2
If you’re catching up go back to read Part 1 before continuing so that it starts to make some sense at least! Here you go…
Sandman’s Definitive Ratings – Celtic @ Maroon Goons & Balloons – Part 1
Right, where were we?
Part 2. Yup.
BROON – 9/10 MOTM
The Captain steps up. He will not be denied, he will not see his team denied, his club, or his support.
Defied by a fine save to open the scoring, his major contribution then centred around upsetting the
rhythm of a Hearts side far keener to smash anything hooped than play football.
Magnificent effort to drag the team through the second-half as we struggled. Pertinant point, Celtic
watchers – Broon, very unusually, was the advanced midfielder all second half; the role filled most often by Rogic/Calmac/Christie/A.N.Other. Tonight, with Nir’s fitness obviously an issue we were bare-bones and below as our skipper and break-up merchant was required to fill the creative space. And didn’t he do well…
Wonderful poise at the death to clip in the cross for the winner – a peach of a ball flighted off a sand-wedge.
Even managed his ubiquitous Tynecastle yellow with a finely Grasshoppa-d (see what I did there, David
Carradine fans?) boot to the right tit of big-girl’s-blouse-top-knot-bawbag Haring.
Then drew a yellow for rat-bam Naismith as he chopped Broon doon. Naismith didn’t appear
after half-time because as we all know on Wednesday evenings in Edinburgh he’s required to don his
gimp-suit and climb into the chest for delivery to the Blue Oyster Club’s dark room…
BITTON – 7/10
Back in the war-zone and becoming more able by the game. But still not 100% as evidenced above
with Broon playing that forward-mid role and Nir sitting deep when I was screaming – like a girl –
for him to be the one on the ball thirty yards form their goal and utilise his fine passing guile.
But another comeback player who managed a full match; Another bonus.
LIAM/EWAN HENDERSON – 6/10
The ‘kid’ found himself on a battlefield and acquited himself well. Rarely seeing the ball with a
crowded mid and flying boots to contend with, when his moment came, his execution was
devastating – his pass to release Sincy on the counter shows exactly why he’s rated so highly.
Overall, the occasion was a bit heavy for him and the thugs opposite him not interested in letting
him play. He survived intact, mercifully. and so did his disguise. Right Liam? 😉
FORREST – 7/10
Sharp and alert and prepared to batter at it down his crowded wing. There’s little space to work with
in that dugpit. Took them on time and again all second half, missing a decent final ball.
But Jamesy’s class and ability there for all to see in the marvellous opener – switched on and lightening quick to support the counter-attack and add the finishing touch; managed even to thwack his boaby around quickly at the ragin’ gurning zoomers bouncing around in the stand behind the goals before his team-mates swamped him.
SINCY – 6/10
No joy against a team he favours to torment. Hardly involved until he sparked into life for the opener
then turned on the Sonic afterburners briefly and ran them ragged until half-time. After the interval
he disappeared as we lost momentum – like many others – when I expected he’d fry them.
BURKE – 6/10
Bereft of luck first-half. Couldn’t believe he hadn’t scored; terrific involvment in the opener.
As above, failed to turn the screw in the second. Back in Edinburgh to reminisce about the good
old corpse-nicking days, and still carries himself like a man on a mission to dig up the deid
(hello lurking Zoms); so long may it continue in his borrowed Hoops.
SUBS –
FRENCH EDDY – 8/10
Da-Daaaaaa! He does it again. Big john in the pub now changed his point of contention
from Eddy being worth as much as £9million to Eddy being worth ONLY £9million.
Instinct and quality won us the vital points as the mercurial Monsieur drifted into the six-yard
box and snapped a finish on the volley – made it look easy; anything but.
Celebrated like a mad bam.
WEAH – N/A
Fresh from the Harry Potter walking tour, young Timo didn’t get on until late with little
time to impact. A lot due to his long phone conversation from the bench to his dad all
second-half. Well, he’s president of a library and wanted to know all about J.K.Rowling’s
home town, obviously.
LUSTIG – N/A
Cheeky bit of tomfoolery by Lenny to throw on Micka – causing the anti-Lustigs to gnash
teeth and bemoan the negativity and the red, white and blue shell-suited ‘Hearts’ fans in
the stands – must be their away colours… – to vomit in their own mouths a little as the mad
Swedish copper leapt around at the winner.
BR – less than zero/10
Snakeman.
(© Sandman)
NFL – 9/10
Phew. Football, eh? From Architect Of Disbelief as we squandered a winning position to
Chief of Relief with the last-gasp triumph. Managed to give Peter Lawwell the finger at
the end as well…
Hopefully, Lenny will see the folly in persevering with certain absolutes left over by
Snakeman (© Sandman)- the absolute folly, of course of demanding the passing game
played from the back at all times; through such conditioning we lost the goal and
almost the game.
But for his first game he was forced to play a makeshift side, bereft of creative midfield
presence, and at one of the nastiest venues on the circuit where he’s been physically
attacked twice, not to mention the incessant spewing hate.
And he won. With a little luck and a little swagger and a LOT of drama.
Back to finish what he started: the TEN.
Fitting symmetry for a true Celtic man, and a true Celtic legend. A coach without the glamour
or pizazz but who gets the very best out of players at the times of greatest need – exemplified
in his diamond moment, beating Barcelona with Charlie Mulgrew and Efe Ambrose in central
defence.
Some players may not like his confrontational style, his demands, but this is no time for those
who cannot stand up and be counted – Celtic are on the brink of history and destroying the corrupt
soul of Scottish football for good.
Forget foreign coaching experiments; nothing would be worse than some idealogue coming in,
spunking millions and leaving because his philosophy wasn’t working. Or an EPL club came calling…
Snakeman’s (© Sandman) gauche showboating egotism of a betrayal has sickened this Tim to
the core. This is no time for wishes, for theoretical football mavericks to tinker with Celtic, no time either for hand-wringers or apologists.
This is a time for trust to be put in capable hands…
Celtic hands. In Neil Lennon we must trust.
OVERALL – Magic/10
Battled into the game, overcame adversity, swashbuckled, looked like savaging them… Then WTF?
Contrived to chuck it, looked like blowing the lead in the league, looked like delivering a big swathe
of hope to buoyant zoms… then TF! Ecstasy! The sweetest snatch since Raquel Welch in a fur bikini
in One Million Years B.C.
Half a team out, another half in recuperation and our lovable maniacal skipper trying to be Pirlo
because anybody capable of a killing pass was either dead on their feet or at home watching it on
telly while a beautiful naked hooker massaged their ‘injury’; yes, young Corpus Christie…
And Broon pulled it off (yes again, young Corpus…) and we cleared the big ugly maroon hurdle.
Snakeman (© Sandman) failed twice to combate the host’s ‘combative’ tactics and blamed the grass.
Lee Wallace pleaded his innocence, but that’s not the point. Last night, in turmoil, we knew what was
facing our embattled players. They coped admirably, scored a goal-of-the-season first, and threw
in a stunning finish to gloss over the second-half fissures.
A HUGE three points. A HUGE stride towards the EIGHT.
Sandman, into the great beyond…
(i.e that’s it done. Stop reading, go to bed/work/home/…Leicester…)
