Sandman’s Definitive Ratings – Celtic v Ne’er Dowell

ROXIE – 6/10 – So the buck starts and stops with Big Joe and Big Joe stops most of the bucks thrown at him except the last-gasp shocker that cost us a grinding win. He livened things up in the opening 45 with an impromptu Franco Baresi impersonation, and although many will ask wherefore wert thou RomeJoe (see what I did there, Marlowe fans? Yes, that’s right…), at the end of the second 45, the question on my lips and surely Joe’s was – who the hell thought it a good idea to put Greggs on their monolithic goalscoring number 9 at the corner?Like pitching Scrappy Doo in against King Kong and shrugging, “Na, it’ll be fine…”

GREGGS THE BAKER – 5.5/10 – A yellow for a mistimed lunge, countering a near-fatal battering with an elbow that resulted in… Nada; Different shades of officiating within one Celtic game – who’d have thunk it? Busy bee but not influential enough to eventually help force the precious three points.

TONY THE TIGER – 6/10 – Always reliable, always got some killer crosses in him; not today. Fell into the general lapse in sharpness and despite popping up in ferocious attacking mode plenty of times, not once did we get the decisive and definitive swooping ball.

OF JUSTICE – 6.5/10 – How’s yer heid? Left with an eyebrow like Gaza’s missus, put in a solid and bright performance only to be left rueing his part, or lack of, in the final defensive blunder.

GET CARTER – 6/10 – Much as above, fine 90 minutes, BUT with added late bemusement as he appeared to switch off at that crushing moment and wasn’t the dominating figure in our six yard box when the corner whipped
across; Bouncer required.

THE ALLFATHER – 5/10 – Sprightly kid with all the right touches and forward-thinking attributes, looked lively until… Hooked at half-time. For…Reasons…

CALMAC – 6/10 – Knackered thanks to Stevie Clarke, yet still in control. But lacked the Calmac spark to ignite a scorching display. He prompted and hoped, but those around him who were expected to take up the mantle let him down.

THE BUILDER – 5.5/10 – Ah, Matty – just couldn’t find the touch to exert his usual match winning influence and when THE match winning moment fell to him as at Fir Park, he blew it with seconds to go. Damn.

BRIAN DE – 7/10 MOTM – The mhan most likely… To miss a pen… But, still the mhan most dangerous, inventive and exciting as we pinned them in and sought the quality to finish them off. So, even though he failed to convert his penalty – thanks to a decent save that initially looked sus but after scrutiny was right out of the playbook of Jamesy’s favourite website – Barely Legal – we thought, okay, there’s a half hour of the game to go and he’s going to light up those tired defensive legs…No, he got subbed immediately. The. Hell. Whit?

KILLER MUSHROOM – 5/10 – He doesn’t need many chances, and he didn’t get ANY. But, as ever, he’s the guy you go to when the chips are down and you need a match winner from somewhere with a third of the match to go.So you replace him… The. Hell. Whit? #2

YING – 4.5/10 – Damn, kid, one of those forgettable days – almost a hero, free heider scores zero, final balls fluffed too, and we wonder how in hell you lasted until deep into injury time.

SUBS –

MIKEY J – 5.5/10 – Who? He’s back! He’s tugged! No, Jamesy – a shirt pull. He’s a lucky omen, a vicarious saviour! Nope… We’re screwed.

OH BHOY – 5.5/10 – Oh, damn. Expectations were high for our habitual sub scorer but not today; lost in maybe-land with the rest as he failed to make his presence felt much beyond winning the first penalty.

EDDIE TURNBULL – 6/10 – Confidence is a preference for the habitual voyeur Of what is known as… Eddie T. Parkheid life abounded for the gliding geriatric as he bravely stepped up to beautifully slip home the winning goal from the spot… No, hang on – them young ‘uns shafted old glory well and truly; no thanksgiven today (see what I did there, indigestion-riddled, turkey-filled Americans?).

MARCO POLO – N/A – David Attenborough rocks up at the main doors with a camera crew and a gaggle of twitchers as the lesser-spotted Aussie schnider Clarke Gable makes a rare and fleeting appearance.

THE SHNAKE – 4/10 – Well, it nearly worked, didn’t it? Hooking your most creative performer and your deadliest striker at a pivotal point as we toiled at 0-0 was what’s known as ‘the contrarian maverick stupefying switcheroo checkmate’. Well, it is in your heid where it works 99% of the time and you’re lauded with Easter Lilly garlands while being borne aloft by voluptuous fawning virgins in a parade across a human river of supine Brendanistas. In reality, the universe tends to spit the sheer idiocy of it back in your face. Quickly. Aaaannnd… Yup. The Gucci belt moment duly arrived. Mental advantage, the mental Zombies.

MIBBERY – 5/10 – Honestly, Stevie’s not been so excited as… The last time he wrangled a point or two off us. All our own making, really, as he and his cohorts stuck loosely to the rules and stifled the giggles as we contrived to not sicken them for a change.

OVERALL – 4/10 – Well, well, well… Them again, come to make it sticky and tricky and we complied and stuttered and lacked incisiveness. Poundland Dracula set them up to take something after a nine game winless streak, and they got it to 10 but were (Mother)well happy about it. Not that we lacked possession – a given – but the paucity of clear chances and shots on target signalled this Celtic team was not in the groove they should be and the freezing day turned into an icy wall of frustration and anguish.

If you remember some of the grinds in Buck Rodgers first rodeo, this harked back to those grimly annoying days; teams not swept away as we’ve become accustomed to in the previous two seasons. More of a methodical lock-picking exercise that always has the danger of ending like it did today. We’ve sacrificed some dynamism and flair for more control and pragmatism; when it works it’s very efficient and can flow. When it fails, it’s yesterday – relentless yet toothless, dominating but vulnerable too. In short, Colin Nish.

So we head to Rome in search of a win, unable to slap about Motherwell and hoping Aberdeen ‘try harder’ to get a result against the most loathsome band of verminous critters Jim Henson’s workshop ever vomited up.

They probably will; and us too…

We live now, in hope.

Go Away Now

Sandman

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