Sandman’s Definitive Ratings – Celtic v Living-on-the-edge


B.A. BARKAS – 6.5/10

A clause in his contract explains it’s only European teams that shoot at him at Celtic Park. Imagine his Greek mythological surprise too, when a Minotaur In Black gave a penalty against us seconds after a mirror-image denial at the other end; like some sort of angst-ridden Narcissus/Medusa fable B.A will tell when he’s phished…
Get used to that, Clubber. Not bad goaltending otherwise, with some good anticipation.

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Assist! Like when the timer pings on the ovens, he was on the spot in the moment to produce the optimal service from a Calmac subtlety to furnish Corpus’ filthy shoe with a tap-in. That’s more positive, Greggsy, keep it up.

ALAN LADD – 6/10

Not quite the stroll on the ranch he might have garnered from his southern cowpokes. Even though Livi sold their giant angry lesbian striker, his replacements reminded Shane he was indeed now a target of random malice and sneaky runs that exploit his occasional lapse in concentration. Still, the big cowhand loves a battle and proved his mettle yet again with another committed performance. Despite not scoring. So that’s him dropped too, then.

AJER – 6/10

First name on the teamsheet every game. So we can get him to fleck…Those less cynical might appreciate the big bhoy’s professional approach as he dreams of pumping catwalk models senseless in the fashion capital of the world; but enough of his proposed move to Airdrie. Yesterday Celtic got another steady effort, though many questions are being asked of the defensive frailty at times; it must be remembered these players are ships in the night – I presume the season will be built around Alan Ladd and Jullien Clary soon as Kris’s agent has pointed his clockwork money machine towards Serie A and cashed in on the boy’s potential before his inevitable burnout and crash to some English Championship strugglers.


Behind the scenes training assignments have had him assassinating random parking offenders for Glasgow City Council as the Mossad partnership takes an unhealthy turn; but has this blue-badge purge stabilised his on-field mindset? Looked more in the groove today, showing smart choices, no nonsense, and efficiency. Like when he kills.

BROON – 6/10

Celtic’s cheeky vimto – you’re not quite sure what you’re getting but you know it’ll have a kick. And he didn’t kick too much today, allowing the talent around him to build as he marshalled quietly. Looked a bit bemused at the final whistle; kind of in denial that it was over without a new grudge created and held.

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PINGPONG – 6.5/10

He’s fast, he’s daring, he’s lightning in a bottle with add-ons if Celtic can hone the raw talent into a craftwork of nifty feet, guile and cunning with devastating penetration; a bit like Griff on the pull in a nightclub. Livi got a taste of Pingpong’s Duracell Bunny style, and when we can add a final killer ball to his forays it’ll be the Celtic version of Wenger turning Henry from full-back to striker.

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SAM JACKSON – 6.5/10

Muthutucka on at the first-masonic-blow? Muthutucka must be on the move too. So from Wednesday’s git-down in gansta town it was the Empire’s explorers’ descendants to git medieval on. And the Muthutucka is adept at some thumbscrew persuasion, y’all…But this opposition were more focussed on their own game rather than taking out hits on the Celtic midfield; that refreshing trait did allow us more space and moments to shine – the Muthutucka’s lovely muthutuckin’ drift through the Celtic deep into their hood to stage the winner was the epitome o’muthutuckin’ Kool an’ the Gang – Muthutucku glided across that hallowed grass like the James Brown stage-entry shuffle; y’dig, Muthutuckas?

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3 in a row for Calmac; taking the reins up in Winterfell, grinding out Wednesday’s result at the OK Corral, and today first bhoy to stand up and be a mhan just when we needed some impact – Man Of The Moment to the power of three. From the early Spartanesque block to rifling in the equaliser off somebody’s backside – genius – and thereon dictating the flow with intelligent force.

Thank Ghod for Calmac.

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Some kind of oranje boot conundrum (Hi, Mrs.Morelos!) ruffled young Ryan but after his butler appeared on the sidelines with heated drawing-room slippers he settled into a decent game, tapping in a vital lead before half-time. But like previous matches, not yet quite the rapier #10 we’re going to be in crucial need of in the next few months. His time may come; It takes time to hone Ryan’s special abilities. His Da’ told me that.

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THE YETI – 7.5/10

That’s a tough mountain hide. And a tough ask for a player not quite at full peak to wind among a black-clad phalanx of keep-guards looking for openings. However, we may have found a bargain – movement is incisive and selfless and he can roll a brute with relish; great endeavour as we chased the game and great finish for the eventual winner. I still think he needs a strike partner to unleash his full powers but we’ll see that soon…Again…


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Chuckle of the day as Lennony held him back until throwing him on at the same time as his brother. ‘Two of them?’ breathed the trembling glass collector hovering over our table, mouth agape as she gazed up anxiously at the telly. I’d shut that if the Forrest boys are around, love…


Did you see him? Mossad for Mossad switch executed quick style, boss. It never happened, capiche?


5 min at his age (deceased) is pretty good going. Building towards a full 7 by end of year.


Fair enough. Ten minutes on the park, charge about, get a yellow from the suspicious MIB with two first names (who looked strangely attracted to him). Valiant effort is his calling card.


Drew the final-moments-time-wasting-sub-straw. Kind of ambled on and drifted a bit, tried to look interested, but.. Meh.

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LENNONY – 7/10

Well, Mr.Lennony jigged the rig once more, getting his squad rotation in with fairground waltzer affect on the armchair Steins who’ll be off like whiz-bangs at the formation. The jokey conversation in the dressing room pre-match was along the lines of Broon daring the bemused boss to scribble ‘The Yeti’ on a teamsheet, and after a quick snatch and delivery to the ref we had one more striker on the field of Paradise than the last home game…

But we were still set-up to attack and it showed, with decent tempo that we just struggled to maintain because, as we all know (pay attention at the back) …One striker eases the burden on their defence and allows them
to loose an extra man into the middle/wing and catch us on the break. So Lennony was going toe-to-toe at home as much as we ever will against the likes of Livi rather than crushing them under his expensive Dolce and Gabbana glitter heels (Don’t ask…). We hope the 3-5-2 is a prime order stymied by current fitness levels, rather than an afterthought when public pressure is mounting. I’m almost sure it is. So cut him some rope.

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OVERALL – 7/10

Well, before you nod along whit the hissy fits across the Celticosphere, just remember the gallant romps of Charming Ratfink Brendan’s teams against the likes of St.Mirren away and Livi home… 0-0 and 1-1… Saint Martin’s superstar side scraping a last-kick 3-2 v Livi only thanks to the God-Emperor, The King Of Kings Happy Birthday Henrik).

It happens, and today thankfully it didn’t; three points, top of the pile. We weren’t great but we weren’t awful; some things clicked well; they scored a wonder goal and we clawed a win back from an early MIB rabbit-punch. All’s fine.

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Go Away Now.


About Author

The Celtic Star founder and editor, who has edited numerous Celtic books over the past decade or so including several from Lisbon Lions, Willie Wallace, Tommy Gemmell and Jim Craig. Earliest Celtic memories include a win over East Fife at Celtic Park and the 4-1 League Cup loss to Partick Thistle as a 6 year old. Best game? Easy 4-2, 1979 when Ten Men Won the League. Email

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