SANDMAN’S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC v MALKY’S MISFITS…
“Had we never lov’d sae kindly,
Had we never lov’d sae blindly,
Never met – or never parted –
we had ne’er been broken-hearted.”
Rabbie Burns; RIP David Potter.
ROXIE – 5.5/10 – Big Joe and the giant peach he made of that…Keeper’s viewpoint – shocker of a lazy dunked back-pass to have to cope with as you’re closed down. Aggregate conclusion – clear it to hell anyway. Repeat for their looped fluker – fist that corner, Joe, like you were Jamesy rampaging in a Lessboss-vacation darkroom.
GREGGS THE BAKER – 6.5/10 – Industry is the baker’s mantra – a 24-hour pastry machine is Greggs; proved himself to the last boss, now meet the new boss – hey-ha like the last boss, unless you count the close similarities in loyalty…Today, Greggs showed why he won’t be redundant under the new regime for want of competitive intensity.
GET CARTER – 7/10 – Thought ye had a sore knee, Big Mhan? 90 minutes later…Did his commanding job best when the chips were down early and they forced four hundred corners in the opening fifteen minutes. Including a certainty saved with his powerful and shapely right buttock. Steady girls.
APOLLO CREED – 6.5/10 – Who? Well, he’s No’Rocky…Interchangeable Star Lord vibes but this Bhoy looks more settled on the ball and appeared comfortable beside the Big Yin. Has an eye and a pass on him; only blot was his loss at the challenge for their first.
TONY THE TIGER – 6/10 – Shift in, punched his caird oot, home via the Brazen. Always reliable, always committed; Tony fixing the gap left through fractured moose antlers, taking his chance with focussed aggression as ever. Duff back-pass his sole transgression.
CALMAC – 6/10 – They sought him here, they sought him there, and for large parts of the game they stifled his influence. With no space and no pace around him – REO! – Calmac can’t get the rhythm to structure the Hoops siege weapons and turn the opposition. It will be a conundrum for any manager – yes, him…- who wants to rely on Eddie’s guile and Matty’s swish at the expense of a Calmac command performance. He had to go backwards as the midfield failed to anticipate. He had to scrap for ground as Coonty swarmed about him and he’d no fleet feet ahead bursting into gaps. Protect the captain with fizz on hand. Let him play.
EDDIE TURNBULL – 7.5/10 – Jeez oh, there’s a fair old puzzle – forgotten extinct hasbeen – ‘has’-been, Jamesy… – becomes the vibrant new savant. And penalty-taker. And goalscoring penalty-box predating advancing midfielder sporting confidence and ken. What is this strange new world I’ve awoken into? Who are you? Why is the sky green, and do they have chips?
THE BUILDER – 8/10 MOTM – Relentless contractions of quality football to enliven your lunchtime dirge and leave you spent as he smashes in the fourth like a 70s Brazilian magician. Made one, scored one, inspired applause with every deft touch, tried to create, create, create. Excellent outing from the beautiful Bhoy in the stupid pink boots. Ghaylord. Only kidding, alphabet folk; this is humour, not politics. And if you think that’s risqué outrage, I’d quit reading for the season right now…
ABADASS – 6.5/10 – In the mood and criminally underused. When we did find him early in space he epitomised his usefulness by laying on the second with expedience. That means quickly, all you kids who’re going to fail your English exams come Monday’s results. Read this stuff more often and learn big words to get you through the re-sits. No more tests for the wide Bhoy from the desert – he looks ready to claim a starting spot with some consistent impact.
LORD KATSUMOTO – 6/10 – Dazien being Daizen is one of the most entertaining and frustrating things to watch. There’s more to come, of course, but let’s hope with end results.
KILLER MUSHROOM – 7.5/10 – He’s deep, real deep – and I don’t mean because he’s Japanese and scrupulous you casual racists – no, he’s deep… ‘Whit, Sandman?’ you say, screwing yer face up – I mean I’ve never seen Kyogo drop so DEEP off the centre, practically defensive mid at times. New tactic? More involvement?
Does it matter much when he scores with every second shot and can lay off subtle balls that slice open backlines? The answer is ‘no’, slow readers. Kyogo dropping deep just invites achilles-raking assaults that defenders know will not earn a red because they’re so far from the danger-zone. Yeah, injury percentages just ramped up. Not a fan of this.
STAR LORD – N/A – ‘I’m off to chase my burd around Europe.’ Well, at least he may have left us with a
final poked goal to remember him by. Eh…
YING – N/A – Looked happy to be here, with a fair measure of enthusiasm. We will see what balance he
brings.(See what I did there, fans of Eastern mysticism?)
JAMESY – 6/10 – Jamesy always scores! Yes girls, and he kicks a few into the net as well. Wonderful week for the Prestwick Flying Flasher nearly ended with him icing the bons-bons, but I hear she escaped his clutches. Then their keeper made a great save to deny him a goal and a glorious impact. HH Jamesy, Lord Of The Ring….And that’s not a typo.
HAKUNA HATATE – 6/10 – Me too, Reo. Me too…
THE ALLFATHER – N/A – He is among us! the viking God of Gods. Just as Floki predicted – ‘it’s the will of Godsss,
Ragnar, the Godsss…’
THE SHAKE – Goddamn/10 – So there I was, enjoying the hyperbaric sensory deprivation chamber – Ludovico’s Technique ticking over nicely, thanks – when one of the shaven-headed, androgynous cloaked temple acolytes opens the lid after only two months and stutters/blabbers over he/she/its task of imparting the sordid, blasphemous information…
But I should have known. The new kit leaks in June foretold his second coming – the blessed green Hoops reconfigured to resemble reptilian scales, shed skin; symbolism to summon the unbeheld, the fallen prodi-gal, the serpent back to eden…If he was a musketeer, he’d be ‘Forkedtongueyin’. All judgements are reserved until the CL group unfolds. THEN we’ll see if the Brendanistas were justified or just bewitched.
MIBBERY – 2/10 – Little Nick, and little bottle. Big Mad Malky and the diving ginger Zombie screaming for a pen;
fail. LOL. Strike one to the good guys. Masons, re-assemble.
OVERALL – 6.5/10 – Job done. Zombies none. LOL. Any misgivings about the lunchtime grind were eclipsed by the teatime circus as the Zombie clown show hit new heights of magnificent absurdity. We took care of flag day business. Eventually. But what was on offer had us pining for Angeball. Yet there’s time to wait and see; the result was no more than expected, the performance adequate and flourishing in patches.
It was a welcome, ‘Meh’, and we move on. I would say it’s a jhoy to be back, but the buzz has
been tempered somewhat for us who’ve hung around here a time…
DEDICATED TO: DAVID POTTER
Good grief, as the gentleman himself might have sworn. I detach myself from reality and soon as this dimension of footballing fever calls me back it’s Saturday Bloody Saturday and I can’t believe the news today…The intellect has left the building; a studious, contemplative and fathomless pool of engaging Celtic historia has been snatched from this realm.
Always amusing to me that in the ocassional frenzies of rueful angst we’d find ourselves in after poor performances or Euro scuddings, the next time you opened The Celtic Star after a night of rage and ruin, right there waiting would be the David Potter measured take on proceedings – an antidote to hysteria, a perspective much required.
God knows what he made of my insanity – bewilderment most likely – but let’s end this latest and newest episode with a nod to a great Celtic man and a sage of hooped folklore. Great art needs its great curators. He is now our Hyperion, watching from above, sat in his box in Paradise, Mick Duffy in his ear; but I’m sure he’ll have his butler take care of the riff-raff. God speed, David, and God rest.
Go Away Now