SANDMAN’S DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTIC v PERTH RANCH HANDS
“You don’t get explanations in real life. You just get moments that are absolutely, utterly, inexplicably odd.” Neil Gaiman
B.A.BARKAS – WTF?/10
Another game, another saveless 90. Another picking oot net and booting it exercise. Not sure if he’s pants or pointless; we could almost play without a goalie sometimes.
BITTON – 5/10
Save of the season after ten minutes. Barkas hates him. Always cool and composed but verging on slack as the urgency around him evaporated second half.
JULLIEN CLARY – 5.5/10
Good to see him back. and that was about it. Impact he usually carries still absent until he’s 100%, and it might be too late by then.
AJER – 5/10
A lumbering presence as ever but not making the impact we needed today with his forays into their half. Embodies the support’s thoughts with his constantly-bemused onfield scowl.
PINGPONG – 2/10
What happened wee mhan. From tearing up the Milanese Sophisticates to meekly cowed by the coo-farmers. That was, as they say in Italian, ‘Colin Nish’.
CALMAC – 5/10
300th appearance and eventually captain trying to steer a rudderless ship. But his vital influence is far from present for the 90 this season and it’s telling…
BROON – 6/10
600th appearance and only 599 questioned by armchair Steins since his debut. Abused early on today for his rainbow flag armband being ‘too gay’. Celebrated early by eliminating dangerous soul-traitor O’Huntaron from the game. Generally a Broon-esque performance, doing his designated job.
DREXL – 4/10
Spent his time attempting to barge down a crowded alley before chucking it for a house party with gang-bangers at half-time.
CORPUS CHRISTIE – 6.5/10 MOTM
Sometimes it’s the Strictly audition from Corpus with lovely dancing feet, but as we struggled late on, he did produce, laying on the goal, getting in among it. Sadly, he was tango-ing without a partner.
ROGIC – 6/10
Lovely footballer, can’t head for toffee. Missed that sitter with his head but once more looked our best can-opener; however we drip-fed him service in the right areas and not surprisingly our chances dried up before his energy dissipated.
FRENCH EDDY – 4/10
An Eddy special was missed after 20 minutes and the teeth-grinding began. If he’s not in the groove we struggle because the paltry amount of chances we’re currently creating mostly fall to him.
SUBS:
GREGSS THE BAKER – 5/10 – On at half-time because it’s Sunday and the ovens shut down early.
EDDIE TURNBULL – 6.5/10 – Almost immediate impact as his old bones defied the cold and he clipped in a sweet ball to create a chance. Then saw Lon Chaney Jr swat away his deflected strike.
ELSHAGYONLASSIE – 6/10 – On. Touch. Goal. Fair enough.
GRIFF – 5/10 – We’ve won! Knew it as soon as he appeared. No, we didn’t.
LENNONY – 4/10
“Who’s that in the Celtic dugoot?’ ‘The wee ginger guy? He’s the one that was supposed to leave last week’…And so the insufferable incumbent antagonised the twitterati twatterati haters out of their Sunday fugues by audaciously selecting a team.
And what a team it was… Not one anyone could really argue with but again it looked directionless and that essential element was strangely elusive – the verve that champions possess. Does that come from the boss? Should he expect it from his players? He’s certainly tried enough of them in various combinations, but he’s like a blind safecracker who’s tripped the alarm timer. Only resort left is to throw in Pistol Pete and Dick Dastardly. But I feel they’ll be actively searching for a different henchman now to save them from the angry mob.
OVERALL – 2/10
So as the Bears rampage in the frozen north, the angst of the Celtic support ratches up as we approach a game where even the three points won’t be enough – it’d take a dozen-point bonus to lower everyone’s blood pressure. But that’s what they get with their penalty allocation this season so The Hoops better suck it up and get it together because at this rate they won’t need any penalties.
The most difficult task in football these days seems to be kicking-off, somehow managed around a couple of hours of virtue signalling. Once we got going after satisfying the social justice warriors ‘nice’ ratio, the Bhoys had more trouble with the Saints first twenty minutes than AC Milan. To be fair we did look as every bit as dangerous as we did in the San Siro, but only to ourselves.
Acid test was today; these players have somehow become soft and vulnerable and desperate – a crucial game pussied away, a vital three points frittered and surrendered, their chance to make history almost consigned to the bin. You’re not Celtic any more. Man the barricades.
Sandman. Go Away Now. Like The TEN.
