Sandman’s final ratings – Celtic to White Walkers


“He’s choking, how, everybody’s joking now
Clocks are ticking, time is ticking, over, blaow
Come back to reality, ope there goes gravity”

Eminem – Lose Yourself

ROXIE – 7.5/10 MOTM – Show-stop, Glimt-stop top-notch saves to stem the embarrassment. Kept us clinging to the tie like Sly Stallone’s fingertips clinging to a glacial rock face in Cliffhanger: “You’re not gonna die!”. But we did. Although it’s not Roxie’s fault.

TONY THE TIGER – 4.5/10 – He will fight and bite and that was all we had for the first half hour. You get what you see with Tony and it’s always 100%. But even he was affected by the general dross – he never made a decent cross the whole game and had a torrid time with his winger.

RAQUEL – 3/10 – Accustomed to battling dinosaurs in the tropical heat, it was a culture shock for the returning Raquel, who decided to add a touch of glamor to the arctic desert by selling her top and all the other swimsuits while she was there, just nine minutes with hospital season pass to put Blockchain in the GRI with our child. (Get well soon, brother.) They swept it, they broke, they scored, night-night. And maybe night-night for Raquel’s future Celtic hopefuls in a Northern match where she was expected to impress; It all went south.

STAR LORD – 5.5/10 – Surprisingly included in the starting XI despite the ongoing controversy in the Dundee Rankings thread, Star Lord rocked the melodrama, but not the yapping non-rodent governing his eccentricities. Back on the continent of his birth, aiming for the land of his birth as he Ryan Christie-d a glorious
chance to equalize above the bar. Made a few telltale interceptions, but gave a few freebies and
ball-watched as they strolled through us.

He needs to add some bite to his bark and turn his defense into a more cohesive unit as he plays in
the role of government of Franco Baresi; no real sweepers these days, but if you’re going to be the spare stick at the
wedding, then BE one and make others react like trained dugs to your whistles. For once he got a taste of what it’s like to be the saner of two centre-backs as Raquel got ahead of his Arthur Shelby mental groove with a Fatal Attraction rabbit boiler of one night.

OF JUSTICE – 4.5/10 – Well, young Liam had a roast. First of their best player – Solbakken – whom we should sign without hesitation; mobile, tall, strong, has good feet and is a total stick. He would be perfect in our league. Secondly, d’Ange, after sleeping for their opener, bringing out a better second half where he took a booking
for laying one on Solbakken – more of that please, boy – and being heavily involved in our mini revival.

BLOCKCHAIN ​​– 3/10 – Captain Calamity… wore skates and gave a comic impression of Bambi on the ice to entertain the local weavers. Somehow I just couldn’t make a pass or, well, do anything that we’re used to seeing him do. Maybe it’s because he’s so tall and so close to magnetic north that he lost his balance. Yeah, that’s it…

ROGIC – 2/10 – Oh? Oh? Of course, he appeared several times, moaning from the cold. He even saw him hit his head once. Then, *poof!* like a magic wizard, he was gone.

THE BUILDER – 2/10 – Impossible to build a snowman tonight. Achieving this Celtic gig isn’t just about rattling zombie cages and having 90% possession to carve up SPL savages. Sometimes you have to raise your game and your intelligence. But he
grimaced, moaned, and shared a morning bath with Oz. None of them could keep the soap.

JAMESY – 5.5/10 – Aware of the problems of native cross-country skiers, Jamesy stayed on the lookout on the wing. Even the sprinkling of hairy-collared local beauties in the crowd couldn’t tempt him. But at times he also threatened to show some skill, fluttering around both wings, adding a dash of verve to Hooped’s lackluster effort. But, ultimately, he found no one willing or able to connect. May be later…

SON OF JACKIE – 4/10 – The service would have been nice. And he likes to fight. Aside from a tame header, however, he failed to make the physical impact we were hoping for. It could have been different if we had built a method to move the ball somewhere in its vicinity for more than 5% of the game.

LORD KATSUMOTO – 5/10 – The Japanese Mark Burchill, indeed. All the energy and willpower raced so much that a coyote was spotted setting elaborate traps. But he lacks the finesse to top off his efforts with a killer touch; blazed on the best of luck at a pivotal moment, when a goal could have allowed a burst of light to augment our dark Arctic cold.


ABADASS – 5.5/10 – ‘What the hell? Cold white sand?…’ The confused desert kid made a playful appearance, giving us a bit of a zip and made two decent efforts at goal. One of them really should have come in.

OPERA CALMAC – 5.5/10 – Probably a reluctant sub at halftime, but its reassuring presence was needed to shore up the great gaping Red Sea that Moses Blockchain had unwittingly opened up. So it worked, to some degree – we seemed more in control with him there in tandem, until they waltzed into the park to kill all hope.

MCARTHYISM – N/A – Tensions were high as he arrived in these temperatures, but managed a 15-minute lap without firing anything. Jamesy sympathizes.

ANITA DOBSON – 4/10 – And the hand was played. Would we see Ange’s priorities revealed under the Northern Lights? Yes. Would he realize how light our team really is when it comes to the European stage? Yeah. Glad to see half the squad rested, surprised to see Ange leaving with midfielder Oz/Builder – pretty static last week, here he added Blockchain to really pull the zip out of it.

Let his masochism run to the break, then mix it up with some composure and a fresh zip. But still saw her
tactical wiles outdated and undone by a better drilled and fitter opposition. So it has a measure – of its available personnel and its own ability to deploy them. And, basically, we would pretty much be able to squeeze our way through to the final round of CL qualifying in one fell swoop. A few transplants are still needed to make Angeball powerful at this level.

OVERALL – 2/10 – Beyond the wall, the wildlings have a plastic soccer field. Playing on such a surface – floating on an iceberg – was a downfall of the Celtic past, present and trepidations to come; *cough* Livingston… *cough* And what an absolute mess that was. We set a new first in world football by somehow managing to be third on the ball with just two teams in the park. A group of players who seemed not only to have been introduced to each other minutes before kick-off, but also to the surreal concept of the soccer ball itself.

It’s been 12 months since Lennony returned the golden TEN and its Celtic heritage – that performance could have carried over directly into last season’s horror show. Spanked by a side of strangers named after a Grand Theft Auto character, bullied and chased as if we were a collective of a newly discovered rainforest tribe descended from sloths.

If there was ever a game where you shouldn’t worry too much about the outcome, it’s this one. But the way we lost
– outdated, brawny, overplayed and overclassed, was sinister. No need to cling to the straw about 45 seconds brighter – we’ve improved the same as the rangers did in the recent collapse of Paradise; only because cruise side par 3 cut the gas. And Bodo’s second goal was for the men to play through the bhoys.

So it’s done. Barely a shot on target in 180 minutes, the only metric we have left is my favourite:
the playing field metric that shows we should be able to pump Roma 4-1.

Special mention to Matt Corr and the other Traveling Bhoys who braved the frozen expanses of fair Earth
to watch this nonsense, and are fighting their way through a pack of polar delinquents
bears to get to their Airbnb igloos as I write.

I hope Bodo continues to win the crazy new cup that has been, and that we loot them for their left-back and
right winger before the huskies were even hitched up for the victory sled parade.

For us, shake your head off, suck renewed confidence from somewhere and find ten more league wins to go.
the jackpot and the dream of getting slaughtered in an environment more glamorous than The Night King’s backyard.

leave now

Sand seller

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