SANDMAN’S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC v FEEGIE CRIPS & BLOODS…
“The BBC has received a multitude of complaints about the latest Sam Smith music video which shows him in the perverse act of drinking… Well, basically – phish. We formally offer our apologies for this, mainly to theRangersSupporters Association who contributed the majority of outraged objections on the grounds that phish-drinking was the forte and copyright of their members only.”
– BBC Gender Fluid Spokesperson.
ROXIE – 6.5/10 – Big Joe Takes Charge. Not a new American sitcom, just the interval around their penalty as we awaited the geological timespan of VAR confirming the obvious. Then Joe did what Joe does – dived the wrong way. Despite his penalty record being on the level of ‘Shaggy’ Mac’s consensual sex ratio, the big fella was as commanding as ever and surprisingly accurate with his footwork given the apparent treacherous underfoot conditions.
GREGGS THE BAKER – 6.5/10 – Pinged it here, pinged it there, another busy bee evening for the season’s eyebrow-lifting champion who continues to impress with sheer everythingness, fulfilling every function required and then some.
STAR LORD – 6.5/10 – Ach, well, at least he saved the mess-up until the game was dead. Before the ubiquitous Star Lord aberration he was as clinically on it as recent times; a number of percipient interceptions and tidy passing had me relaxing… Too flaming early; of course there was trouble ahead and he fuelled the cynicism of many by dozing off, like… Well, like a dozy bar steward. .
GET CARTER – 7/10 – Bhoy’s a rock. Right pec to the rescue to deny an equaliser from a rasper of a shot, revelled in the physical tussle with Curtis Main who Ange’s going to sign in the summer, according to an alarming dream I had the other night based around a new UEFA rule about baldy quotas…Anyway, the big mhan stood strong and seemed to yet again enjoy the physical test the Paisley phalanx posed.
WAYNE GRETZKY – 6.5/10 – What does he possess that compensates for JJ/Tony’s absence? Well, we’re seeing a fortitude and reliability on McGrainesque levels, utilising his fitness and not shirking the dirty work. On an attacking level, he was the driving force for an early second-half press, firing some useful balls into the box after terrific timed runs. We can rest easy on that RB position – this Bhoy will give you 100% commitment regardless of form or fitness; his mantra is consistency and professionalism, relentless, focussed. In old-school terms – He sleeps all night and he works all day…
CALMAC – 6.5/10 – Hound dawg, hounded… They were all over him. Until their energy levels dipped. Then he took full control, because Calmac eats tasty Duracell bunnies for breakfast and will out play, out-think, and outlast you (see what I did there, American fans of Survivor, the world’s greatest gameshow?).
MOOEY – 7/10 – Suddenly, he’s everywhere. From holding mid to roaming in the gloaming. His general play and the runs and the natural footballing nous are a joy to behold, and potent weapons. That intensity seemed to catch him in the second period after a formidable performance; passes lacked completion and he appeared worn. No shame, after a shift covering for the likes of…
EDDIE TURNBULL – 5.5/10 – That was poor. Given a start, expectation was high that he’d augment his recent appearances off the bench with a match-winning role in the cup tie of the round. But his zimmer appeared to catch on the dodgy pitch and, mostly – they come at night, mostly… – his contribution was outlet balls going backwards. It’s true to say that Angeball lagged with his uncertain presence in the middle; he was the buffer on the dodgy stream when we were looking for a smooth, flawless feed.
LORD KATSUMOTO – 8/10 MOTM – Whatever the task, he’s the action hero for it. Looked in the mood early, crossed one off a post… Then the call came to get central and fill the Killer Mushroom void. And didn’t he? Nicked in the opener and may have notched another second-half with the most surprising Daizen-didn’t-get-there-in-time moment of the season as he failed to reach a superb low Gretzky ball across the area and was left grounded, glaring after it like physics has ceased to exist.
This mhan bust a gut in the scorching wastelands of Qatar, sensationalising his own presence and his country’s fairytale rampage through the World Cup; no rest, no flicks given – back he comes to the Hoops and defies the Anti-Maedas with a series of match-winning displays that will soon be historically regarded as trophy-winning displays. Incredible. And mildly terrifying…
NOTEBOOK – 6.5/10 – Watch me torment the cumbersome antagonists with an expression of sublime grace via the medium of dance… And he did so in flashes of Jota magic, still – I insist – only warming up for the warmer climes of April and May when he’ll finish with a chart-topping flourish.
DEADLY NIGHTSHADE – N/A – K-pop lookalike pops a shoulder. And we hold our breath. And he traipses off in a forlorn parody of his early September Zombie exit. And the mutterings turn to rueful quips about selling big Jackie too early and the wisdom of no proven goalscorer, and, and…And then…
SUBS –
OH BHOY – 7/10 – Oh bhoy, Oh bhoy… That’s how to do it. In some bizarre yet existentially synchronous moment of imitation, the Bhoy Oh grabs his opening Celtic goal in subtle mimicry of Jackie’s final Celtic goal, and touch against Killie – nipping in (No, Zombie racists, wrong country…) to snipe a rebound off the keeper like a mamushi viper (That’s a snake, Brendan Rodgers fans…). All the way round the world to a strange land and culture in a determined fury of seizing the day and furthering his career – well done, kid; I hope that glory moment was worth it and heralds many more to come. 우박 우박
HAKUNA HATATE – 7.5/10 – That’ll do, Reo. Two, you say? Impactful magic from the Japanese Iniesta – quiet day contemplating existence on the bench becomes a call to arms for emperor Ange. Guided in a sweet penalty then garnished the day and our kid’s 5-1 correct score bet with a Roy of The Rovers finale smash that Godzilla wouldn’t have kept out. Sake’s on you, bro.
ABADASS – 6.5/10 – ‘Heaven’s up with you wee mhan? How come you’re not scoring like every other Celtic sub in the universe? Truth was he struggled in the February cold after an early surprising injection to proceedings; Yes, we were all expecting an Oh straight swap…But once he was warmed to the task, his 75th minute beautifully
composed intervention killed the tie – selling the dummy, thwarted by the handball. He’ll feel satisfied with an improved contribution.
THE BUILDER – 6.5/10 – It’s another first! First of the season, straight out of the FIFA Playstation special moves – feet switch, unstoppable guided finish beyond the despairing goaltender/net steward or whatever the cool gaming kids call them…Relief was in order for Matty’s celebration – about five months at least overdue. Still, you know how it works now – his eye’s in, more follow easy next outing, and the next; tell the bookies I sent you.
HACKY SACK – N/A – Just trotted about enjoying the goalfest from within the simulation like a VR headset winner.
ANITA DOBSON – 7.5/10 – Need something to swat off persistent opponents, Ange? Just sold yer top goalscorer, Ange, aye? So whit ye gonnae dae, Ange? “4 subs, 4 flaming goals, mayte. Pass me beer.”
MIBBERY – 3/10 – VAR Decision: Yes. Yes. Yes, correct. Three times: Two pens and a James Hunt…We paid for it to be present in the cup tie. They made full use of it, and the Green Brigade provided useful visual aids in case of confusion. Harmonious.
OVERALL – 7.5/10 – Look, on a day when your flowing football was hampered by some underperformances, injury, and fiesty opponents giving it a cup-tie go, Zombie-family ref, priapic flag-armed Little Britain back on his favourite sideline, and the Northern NSGWP Youth Chief running the other – to emerge with a 5-1 scudding is very decent going. As expected, we got a physical encounter and also as expected the Bhoys took it on the chin and went toe-to-toe.
— Tam sellic son (@TamseIIicsonIII) February 11, 2023
In spite of some scrappy periods, quality eventually counted and we move towards a further public humiliation of the scuttling pestilence from the Govan radiation zone and, of course, towards a possible treble. Distraction of the knockouts over until we meet Partick Thistle in the quarters, lets get buzzing for the upcoming Sheep slaughter and that tantalising title scent on the spring breeze; L’Air Du Phen-ione they call it in the finest Parisian boutiques.
Go Away Now
Sandman
