SANDMAN’S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC v LAVVYGARGLERS…
“Ye, know, many a bad hing’s written aboot them creepy bloated zombie freaks that come here twice a year, but A’hve got tae say – they left they toilets clean as a whistle and nae damage at all the day… Dry as hell, mind – no a drap ay water, or even urine tae be mopped – which wis weird – but anyhing’s progress…”
Wee Senga, toilet attendant, The Sponsored Silence Enclosure at Celtic Park
ROXIE – 7/10 – The big glam-slam beauty – quiet days he’s known against the formidable Euro pee-slurping titlists but never as quiet as today, surely? Still, utter class personified to palm one round the post in the second-half, then fall out with his skipper as he produced the save of the day to thwart a Calmac OG diving header. Both agreed the effort was worthy of a goal. The Zombies? They just cried.
GREGGS THE BAKER – 7/10 – Tomorrow’s pastry breakfast maestro was hardly pressured! His presence against the magnificent (stop sniggering at the back) Euro-2nd-tier-not-quites was both effusive and (supposedly, lol) inconsequential – nothing they offered troubled him and every time he strode forward they’d lost him among the frenzy of Hoops they couldn’t live with; suddenly, whoosh! – he nips behind their static backline and gets the cut in for our third. Baked to perfection.
STAR LORD – 5.5/10 – The only fly in our ointment. No apologies to the Star Lord apologists – there was a distinct flaky element to his game that deserved an empire blue jersey. I appreciate he’s full of the Arthur Shelby care in the community goodwill, but the number of times he lost composure under no pressure was alarming. The panicked header in no-man’s land? Tell me Benzema wasn’t watching that…
GET CARTER – 8/10 – Magnificent unit, magnificent game; dispatched the latest Zombie threat like Daryl in the Walking Dead, minus the crossbow. Manhandled his manhandling like a boss, and put in some precise blocks/interceptions as well as building our counters with clean, crisp distribution.
JURAN JURAN – 7/10 – A relatively unassuming and undervalued 90 minutes. Our savage victory revolved around him subduing the threat of the kapo collaborator which completely sterilised their attacking menace. Second period, we saw him relax and vent the turbos which almost produced a fine goal after a surging run. If only he hadn’t struck it like some Zombie muppet…
CALMAC – 8/10 – How good is the main man? Consistently marvellous is the answer you’re reaching for. Ridiculous and unnatural consistency is his trademark and today, despite the changes come the hour, despite the new personnel around him, Calmac did.. . Not. Falter. Once he was done teaching them to play proper football he launched an injury-time diving header at his own nets. Just – and pay attention here, interloping lavvylickers – For. A. Flaming. Laugh. Because that’s how good he is.
THE BUILDER – 8/10 – ‘Quietly gorgeous’ – sums up the handsomeness of the kid the Bears cannot cope with and his languid footballing genius that effortlessly slices open teams like the second-best urologists in Europe 2021-22. Aside from his sublime goal involvement, you got the buzz every time he had the ball at his feet within range. And await the intake of breath that accompanies his vision; Bhoy’s a big star in the making.
HAKUNA HATATE – 7/10 – Thought Reo came into it so sweetly as they tired; as in – they got fed up chasing our
possession like demented three-legged greyhounds after an old wummin’s furry bunnet, and Reo took over. That said, he did fail to capitalise on his dominance a bit, despite pinging some sumptuous diagonal passes interspersed with sprightly pieces of play. Still, what an asset to take centre stage as other players fade back a little.
MR.KOBAYASHI – N/A – Dear God, the horrible impending doom that accompanied his bizarre injury. Only to be
eclipsed later by the realisation we might have notched TEN with a fit, buzzing Kyogo, and comic relief at his comedy pratfall during post-game celebrations as he mimicked Tavpen.
NOTEBOOK – 8/10 – The touch. The dink. The celebration. £6 million, you say? Marvellous…The sheer footballing purity of it all may explain why I’m still in awe, and the wife won’t wear a George Michael mask to bed… Even though her and my sister-in-law were cooing about ‘how lovely-looking’ that bhoy was; the decadent tramps… Just shut up and go with it, luv, right?
ABADASS – 8.5/10 MOTM – Son, ye’re a wee scurrying, Skelping miracle from the East, mid but not far. Abraham Van Helsing has written in blood-soaked parchment to Celtic asking for the kid’s vampire-slaying secrets but as yet we’re keeping his lethal talents under tight lock and key. Like I said Wednesday, poor Borna was mostly stumbling blindly – and loaded-nappy – into his fat Zombie nanny’s comforting embrace after Abadass signalled his intent in the grim North. Today, well I’m afraid dear Nanny put the boot to Borna’s whining fizog – “Man up,
ya wee puss (in Croat)” after seeing him wilt in the tunnel and collapse like Alfie’s rear end when Abadass ramped up the pressure. Our wunderkind’s movement was simply irresistible, uncontainable and irrepressible – he shredded their left defensive flank. Difficult question to conclude – when we flying an Israeli flag in his honour? Nnnng…
SUBS –
SON OF JACKIE – 6/10 – Bam! Get on an bam them up! But he didn’t really – not the way I expected. He was
just a split-second off or a mistimed leap/run away from racking up a personal tally. But as yet – amazingly – our Greek Ghod hasn’t attained the divine Skelper status. It’ll surely come, even with frustrating afternoons like this offering plenty up on a plate.
MOOEY – N/A – Shucks, mayte, I’ll just laff around like Warney and keep it tickety-boo while the rabids chase shadows.
EDDIE TURNBULL – 6.5/10 – “Go on, Jonny – gie the doddering old Bhoy a kick, eh? Aww, for heaven’s sake, man – no’ like that…it’s no a flamin’ comedy…” Yes. Yes, it was.
BIG MERCEDES – 6/10 – Stability. Screwed around in Mingwall, but emphasised his presence today after
subbing on for a semi-hysterical Star Lord, bringing some sanity to a second-half resistance determined not to let the backline be breached by any desperate spawn of the Devil.
LORD KATSUMOTO – N/A – So, it’s like this – Big Ange reads this nonsense, though God knows why – and obviously liked my cunning plan dreamed up in Wednesday’s ratings for Daizen to be held back to harass resurgent Zombies second-half if required. But then, today… No resurgent Zombies, no need for the madman to fire about like an ADD kid on speed, and no need for ‘our’ plan to save the day. However… In the interests of balance – and pushing my luck – here’s a Tuesday ploy, Ange – take 5 off Madrid. Hush, now – play it cool, Trig, play it cool…
ANITA DOBSON – 9/10 – Angeball, lol; a quaint Celtic fantasy derided by the Scottish Fitba’ hacks, the Zombies (obviously) and something not to be taken seriously by anyone who really knows ‘soccer’ and who witnessed the
tactically mature and astute ‘Jars’ freewheel their way to the controversial super-sookers EuroFinal. Weeeellll, not so much anymore, lulz. Ange set up as ever, dared his players and opponents to dare, and calmly oversaw another deluded Zombie evisceration; tactically rinsed them across every department and coasted to a defining
victory with goals to spare. Zombie apologists assemble – the Big Mhan’s leading your roast.
MIBBERY – 6/10 – Ya wee grunt. Could have been TEN if he hadn’t insisted in simping to his dark and deep
cosmic-horror masters. Tricky little Nicky – child of Cthulhu indeed; STONEWALL penalty at 1-0, STONEWALL red card, numerous yellows held back; give it up, shiny boy – yer team got horsed and hosed despite your staunch intransigence when it came to dishing out just punishment. Read this and weep: 4-0, going on 7 or 8, and you couldn’t do anything about it. Ya. Flaming. Failure.
OVERALL – 9/10 – God damn you, Madrid – we would have taken half a dozen off them if it wasn’t for the
thought of the upcoming European Champions clash nagging at the back of Celtic minds like my missus hustling me out of Prestwick ‘PresFest’ pubs tonight as I castigated the artists for not taking requests for Irish folk tunes like Roll Of Honour, or bargaining for at least a trade-off cover of Abba’s ‘Super Trooper’…Yeah, one of those great days where everyone you encounter past three o’clock wonders why you’re so bloody happy with life until their own inherent prejudices ooze to the fore and they realise, just at the same time you see it manifesting and can’t take the smirk off yer countenance…
Didn’t the Bhoys do well? Up against ‘proper’ opposition for the first time this season, allegedly… And the Zombies ended lucky we didn’t go full Dundee United on them, but for bigger fish to fry. Everything Angeball you doubted was deleted like your dodgy hard drive content within the first 45, and we have now lived to see the tale of two cities play out – one miserable, violent, oppressed and locked down through a pandemic that facilitated a glitch
in the matrix of Empire blue, and this new-found freedom paradise of green and white Hoops, rampaging through and over every challenge in a post-modern, post-apocalyptic version of Big Jock’s pure beautiful, inventive
football.
Long live the big Aussie. Your day has come. And Zombies, so has yours…
Go Away Now
Sandman
🔥Watch all the goals as Celtic ease to a 4-0 victory over Rangers in the first Old Firm clash of the season⬇️ pic.twitter.com/RrWVPg30Od
— Sky Sports Scotland (@ScotlandSky) September 3, 2022
Watched a bit of Madrid game, Camavinga was good, opener simple, equaliser a goal Celtic can score. Play like we play for 95 minutes we could get something. Lapses anywhere will be punished.