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Jack Nicholson, Ntcham, Rogic, Boyata

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I watched Celtic put five and six goals past Oldco and Newco Rangers but never have I seen such a chasm between the sides.  We operated on a higher plane throughout the game.  Newco goalkeeper, Jak Alnwick, made five incredible saves, three from Olivier Ntcham, one from James Forrest and one from Tom Rogic, preventing a score, which could conceivably have hit double figures.

Ntcham and Rogic pulled all the strings.  Their physical presence and use of the ball constantly bought Celtic space.  Odsonne Edouard started the scoring with a six-yard box goal, but his second showed what an accomplished striker he has become in the space of a few months.

The pick of the bunch came from James Forrest, who beat three shadows before finishing on the stroke of halftime.  Callum McGregor and Rogic got their customary goals against Newco.  At this stage, with the goals flying in every few minutes, we anticipated more, but the scoring was over 37 minutes from the end, in part due to Rogic running out of steam, and part due to McGregor moving inside from the wing, where he had been so devastating.

Celtic sailed through the second half pinching police hats and watching Dedryck Boyata put in the most commanding defensive performances we have seen since Virgil van Dijk at his very best.  You are watching one of the all-time great Celtic teams.

Once the sheer joy of watching the performance passed, the enormity of winning 7-in-a-row took over.  I have watched us win many championships, but can think of only two which comes close to the impact of yesterday.  You will remember it fondly for the rest of your life.  It was one for the ages and suitably makes up for the missed opportunity at Easter Road last week.

If Jack Nichoson was one of those who stormed the Newco Player of the Year event last night, and made it to the microphone, he would have no doubt looked around the hall and said, “What if, this is as good as it gets?”

There is a great fallacy, believed by those who are in an unfortunate position, that a change will bring improvement.  Such claims were made repeatedly by campaigning politicians in recent years, but it is a fantasy.

The truth is far bleaker.  If you have structural problems, which could last a lifetime without any progress being made, every passing chapter will feel it was written by Dante, each one a fresh hell.  For Newco, these days, where they compete for second place while selling close to 40,000 season tickets, this is good as it will ever be.

When this chapter ends, it will be replaced by one where the club has to stop the pretence of competing for league titles, and live within the budget provided by a fan base who are content to buy season tickets to watch a team of also-rans.  They are a joke team, a dumb cash-cow for the rest of the league to get some shooting practice against.

Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but this really is as good as it gets.

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  1. Word of The Day (Sevcoitis….)

     

     

    Procumbent /prəʊˈkʌmbənt/

     

     

    adjective

     

    1. leaning forwards or lying on the face

     

    2. growing along the ground

     

     

     

    Word Origin and History for procumbent

     

    adj.

     

    “leaning forward,” 1660s, from Latin procumbentem (nominative procumbens), present participle of procumbere “to fall forward, fall prostrate,” from pro “forward” (see pro- ) + -cumbere “to lie down” (see succumb ). Related: Procumbently.

     

     

     

    KTF

  2. My original word of The day (abase) kept throwing up security errors; I will tray it again tomorrow.

     

     

    KTF

  3. Longtimelurker on

    Paul, you naughty naughty boy. That second last sentence is a thing of beauty – hitting them right between the eyes there.

     

     

    Happy days!

  4. MIKE IN TORONTO, how you keepin pal, what a result, thankfully hangover has gone, did you get my e-mail yesterday.hh.

  5. Well said Paul, Sevco has no structure or stability and their pundits are again talking about a cash fix to the problem and therein lies the problem, they have no footballing tradition just a kiss me quick cash job to solve everything and even now if they bring in Gerrard with the “reported” 30 million in warchest tokens they would still be taking a massive risk with a guy who has never managed professionally and has never bought a player.

     

     

    Talk about mug punters:)) Last night they had one thread on their media called “never winning the league again”

     

     

    Brendan talked the other day about the stability at the club and the team effort on all levels to drive the club on.

     

     

    We live in great Celtic times..

     

     

    Now for the SFA:))

  6. Fantastic win yesterday, and well done on achieving 7 League Titles in a row!

     

     

    I look forward to the day when I can read a CQN article which defines ‘Celtic’ without reference to, or having a pop at our nearest footballing neighbours. For now I am content to bask in the glow of yesterday’s superb CELTIC performance, regardless o fthe opposition! Let’s stop defining ourselves by any reference to any other team. Who was it who said something along the lines of ‘Whatever part of Celtic is defined by them I can do without?’

     

     

    Yours in Celtic,

     

     

    TB&F.

     

     

    JustCelticCSC-NotSevco,OF,orR*sQuickNews,

  7. Gerryfaethebrig on

    FrannyB67

     

     

    They’re might be a wee 7th title party in the Bammy around 5pm

     

     

    You are more than welcome just ask for

     

     

    Gerry fae Garsherfie

  8. Sorry for being lazy but can anyone tell me where I can find Sandman’s player ratings.

     

     

    Thanks in advance.

  9. Just been told that William’s operation has been a success and should be home later this afternoon. He is not a happy pirate with his eye patch.

     

    Thanks to everyone for their thoughts and prayers.

     

     

    why are they caller pirates

     

     

     

     

    cause they arrrrrrrrrrr

  10. Owen

     

     

    SANDMAN DEFINITIVE GLASGOW CHALLENGE EVENT SOCCER RATINGS:

     

     

     

    As sponsored by Panini.

     

     

     

    (No they’re not – 80p a packet of stickers? f### off, Panini).

     

     

     

    “I crossed into West for rat. Fifty security guards , an armoured rimo, worldwide media croverage and rye end up watching ra peepil get prumped in ra Wolfhound Paddy pub in Itawon district of Seoul, an embrarassing resrult an whassmore my transration drevice frailing me an ris begrinning to read like ra trotal strereotrypical Asian dialogue effort. Srorry.” Kim J Un. (2nd?)

     

     

     

    “Eeeeeh, tell yees dis, der’ll be nowt eh dis chrap when me ‘an de lads sart owt de Hoons – megea investment an’ ‘nat wi me wee scally squad roonin’ d’Albion ceeeeeer perk – ey, looch after yer alloys fer a tenner, mayte – an A’ll be ‘avin Joey fay Bread in nets, big Yosser Yews ancherin’ de middle, an we’ll be stichin’ Scully an’ Mooey up front. No probs, likesay. Calm down, calm down.” Stevie G.

     

     

     

    “We believe in nothing, Lebowski. Nothing. And tomorrow we come back and we cut off your chonson. Whereas what we have here? A bunch of fig-eaters wearing towels on their heads, trying to find reverse in a Soviet tank. This is not a worthy adversary. Uli doesn’t care about anything. He’s a Nihilist. He’s given up on the Huns, too.” B. Lebowski

     

     

     

     

    HA!

     

     

     

    (follows; intro to Born To Run cover by FGTH)

     

     

     

    …runaway Celtic dream…

     

     

     

     

    HUNSKELPERS RATINGS:

     

     

     

     

    Gordon: Se7en/10

     

     

     

    The man with the hands possessing the adhesive qualities of a chameleon footpad – finest shotstopper in a generation, snuffed the single Hun hope of parity with a smart drop-stop to his left in the first half.

     

     

    Relieved his boredom in bizarre fashion second-half by clipping the ball out to give them a corner. Glorious days when a Celtic keeper is making his own work versus the scurrilous ragamuffins.

     

     

     

     

    Officer Lustig: Se7en/10

     

     

     

    Impersonating a 5-0 during a 5-0 is the charge the Huns wish brought against Celtic’s Swedish mentalist. Presiding over a murder in the East End better than any of Polis Scotia’s finest could.

     

     

    How he relishes damning those pagan trolls to Helheim with his swaggering Scandinavian eccentricity – had he scored that 6th goal amid the scramble I believe the insanity of the celebrations would have made headline news. Worldwide.

     

     

     

     

    Ajer: Se7en/10

     

     

     

    The bold young Norwegian monolith has defied the lumbering critique of his early performances by raising his game and sharpness to levels becoming a future captain of club and country. Alert to every loose ball, precise with every tackle, towering over trembling Huns; confrontation with him was akin to a club-bearing neanderthal (Mr.Morelos, adopt the role, por favor…) fronting up an armoured lieutenant of the Praetorian guard. Epitome of no quarter given, none taken.

     

     

     

     

    Boyatta: Se7en/10

     

     

     

    Had his Dedryck moment early on – like in the semi -final – recovered from that Sunday-League hangover slice to put in another solid shift, winning every high ball, muscling out the Hun threat, brilliant block from El Fluffalo to stop their comedic consoloation.

     

     

     

     

    KT : Se7en/10

     

     

     

    Yet again, channelled Jinky, dropped the shoulder, then lifted the head to pick out the perfect slide-rule cutback for Eddy to slam the first stake into their black hearts.

     

     

    Relentless machine of a player, engine seldom idling, always offering an attacking option. committed to the cause, gets it all 100%. And he’s one of us. I’m welling up…

     

     

     

     

    Broon : Se7en/10

     

     

     

    How many Cohiba Siglo VIs can one imperious captain smoke in a single game against the wretches?

     

     

    Strutted around the midfield like a gamekeeper, popping off a Hun here and there, tidying up the pitch for the groundsmen as he dictated the tempo and rhythm. Rarely involved in flashpoints as there wasn’t a grunting pigman who could get within range of him. Milked the day.

     

     

    I feared Halliday was on the pitch solely to main Broon but he spent his afternoon lapping up the praise of the home support; Seemed like an overwhelmed schoolgirl -too giddy with fenianism to target our skipper….

     

     

     

     

    Forrest : Se7en/10

     

     

     

    The Prestwick Flyer finally got his just rewards for his efforts in thwarting the Armies of Darkness. Distinguishing goal which summed up everything that has improved about his game this season – skill, penetration, causing chaos BUT with an end result; a stunning finish to deliver the killing blow.

     

     

    Glass collectors of Prestwick, watch out; wee Jamesy might have something special to slap you about the cheeks with tonight…

     

     

     

     

    McGregor Se7en/10

     

     

     

    Calmac The Defier – earning his place and praise and burying the skeptics – aye, me. And YOU.. – with great performance after great performance. Second only to Broon in season-long consistency, Calmac strikes yet again – more often than the lazy ferry bastards – against the Brox Bummers.

     

     

    He’s back on track with that Zidane-esque half-turn when receiving the ball and it’s paying dividends and opening up the opposition.

     

     

    A Celtic player who’s earned his jersey the hard way – and the BEST way – by a long circuitous route and deserves an honourable mention in the Player of the Year awards; beaten only by Captain Broon IMO.

     

     

     

     

    Ntcham, Son of Sam : Se7en/10

     

     

     

    MOTM for me. Quality oozing out of him. Mother###### feet as cultured as Matisse’s hands, exquisite touch under pressure, weight of pass a delight. Eats Chicken ROYALE’s from MacDonalds for breakfast – mayo on the chips, y’know. Doesn’t go into Burger King. Chews up Huns for Sunday brunch.

     

     

    Laid down yet more righteousness upon those heathens; probably with a little too much mercy. Huns

     

     

    should thank him for taking his foot off their windpipes or it might have been Se7en, or eight. Or more.

     

     

    Boy’s a steal at £4 mill. anchor him in Europe with Broon AND Kousssi, buy him space to dictate play.

     

     

     

    Rogic : Se7en/10

     

     

     

    Ah, those big Aussie boats, clown feet Pennywise would envy, yet they caress the ball like it was Elle MacPherson’s right breast or Kylie’s left buttock (see what I did there antipodean 90s porn-fantasy fans?).

     

     

    Nimble, deceptive, a footballer pure – stroked in that 4th goal; ‘just passing it into the net, Bruce, mate. Chuck us a tinny…’.

     

     

    Hope that languid majesty and guile graces the Hoops anothe rseason at leats – big fella ought to know that his particular game NEEDS a manager who understands it and who can get the maximum out of him. He’d be a fool to leave. Celtic may be foolish not to meet his contract demands some part of the way.

     

     

     

    Edouard : Se7en/10

     

     

     

    Who? Who? Who? Said the Huns, like fucking thick owls. Eddy, that’s who – another French nightmare for them to stress over; taking up from where Moussa left off, punishing their stultified backline with mercurial movement and pace – DEVASTATING finish on his second goal; if you’ve seen the VERY top boys finish you’ll recognise that for what it was – precisely aimed and executed right through the defender’s legs at the optimum moment to strike it just before the keeper got set and shifted his feet. A stunner.

     

     

    Add in his timing – that first goal – and positional sense; we have the French youth project so many enthuse about across Europe. Can we poach him for £7 million? A no-brainer; you’ll search far and wide for that sort of class at anything less.

     

     

    Green Brigade – get him a song up, pronto, make the lhad feel he belongs and he’s ours. Hunskelper supreme in the making.

     

     

     

     

    SUBS: Se7en/10

     

     

     

    Griff – Must be ragin’ he skied that big chance for the 6th; no doubt had some special witty celebration planned; next, time, Sparky. Next time.

     

     

     

    Hendry – good bhoy, took a card for a boot at a Hun. May well become a vital cog in a very youthful backline; next season the big tell for him.

     

     

     

    Sincy – Trying desperately to avoid the ’21st-Centrury Bobby Petta One-Season Wonder’ tag. NOTHING has clicked for him this season. Had it today we’d have hit double figures. Fingers crossed that mislaid talent and thrilling ingenuity makes a return next season.

     

     

     

     

    BR: Se7en/10

     

     

     

    Got his beleaguered squad over the line at last, probably later than he had imagined some months ago, but job done with players mostly unable to fire on full-cylinders consistently.

     

     

    The way he dealt with the noisy wee mutants from across the city in these past three matches has been admirable. The white noise was cut through and the base stats show a 12-2 aggregate in the Hoops favour. THAT’S doing your talking on the park. BR never swayed from purpose. Stuck to his guns, to his philosophy and transmitted his belief in his methodology to the players. They kept faith and delivered.

     

     

     

     

    OVERALL : Se7en

     

     

     

    CHAMPIONS. Again. Don’t get complacent. Don’t fail to savour it; there was a time in the trophyless desert of the 90s every silver chalice looked like a mirage; WAS a mirage, grasped at with hope, withdrawn into the dark heart of corruption by Murray’s mendacious claws.

     

     

    RELISH the Tims on top. DO NOT let the Huns forget it. Bring as much humility to it as you like but do not fail to get it right roond them; their pain and tears are sweet champers. Their battalions of sinister paramilitary goons, their Orange Ordure Pride marches, their Union Bear dafties on tour; Karma has decades of payback for those phalanxes of reprobates to endure.

     

     

     

     

    I think the Cup Final may follow today’s pattern – a blitzing from the kick-off that will leave them unable to recover. We showed the Lanarkshire Huns too much respect in the League Cup Final. Thay saw that. They kicked it. They won’t get within a boot-swing of us on the 19th of May.

     

     

     

    The Double Rebel Treble.

     

     

     

    Soon.SANDMAN DEFINITIVE GLASGOW CHALLENGE EVENT SOCCER RATINGS:

     

     

     

    As sponsored by Panini.

     

     

     

    (No they’re not – 80p a packet of stickers? f### off, Panini).

     

     

     

    “I crossed into West for rat. Fifty security guards , an armoured rimo, worldwide media croverage and rye end up watching ra peepil get prumped in ra Wolfhound Paddy pub in Itawon district of Seoul, an embrarassing resrult an whassmore my transration drevice frailing me an ris begrinning to read like ra trotal strereotrypical Asian dialogue effort. Srorry.” Kim J Un. (2nd?)

     

     

     

    “Eeeeeh, tell yees dis, der’ll be nowt eh dis chrap when me ‘an de lads sart owt de Hoons – megea investment an’ ‘nat wi me wee scally squad roonin’ d’Albion ceeeeeer perk – ey, looch after yer alloys fer a tenner, mayte – an A’ll be ‘avin Joey fay Bread in nets, big Yosser Yews ancherin’ de middle, an we’ll be stichin’ Scully an’ Mooey up front. No probs, likesay. Calm down, calm down.” Stevie G.

     

     

     

    “We believe in nothing, Lebowski. Nothing. And tomorrow we come back and we cut off your chonson. Whereas what we have here? A bunch of fig-eaters wearing towels on their heads, trying to find reverse in a Soviet tank. This is not a worthy adversary. Uli doesn’t care about anything. He’s a Nihilist. He’s given up on the Huns, too.” B. Lebowski

     

     

     

     

    HA!

     

     

     

    (follows; intro to Born To Run cover by FGTH)

     

     

     

    …runaway Celtic dream…

     

     

     

     

    HUNSKELPERS RATINGS:

     

     

     

     

    Gordon: Se7en/10

     

     

     

    The man with the hands possessing the adhesive qualities of a chameleon footpad – finest shotstopper in a generation, snuffed the single Hun hope of parity with a smart drop-stop to his left in the first half.

     

     

    Relieved his boredom in bizarre fashion second-half by clipping the ball out to give them a corner. Glorious days when a Celtic keeper is making his own work versus the scurrilous ragamuffins.

     

     

     

     

    Officer Lustig: Se7en/10

     

     

     

    Impersonating a 5-0 during a 5-0 is the charge the Huns wish brought against Celtic’s Swedish mentalist. Presiding over a murder in the East End better than any of Polis Scotia’s finest could.

     

     

    How he relishes damning those pagan trolls to Helheim with his swaggering Scandinavian eccentricity – had he scored that 6th goal amid the scramble I believe the insanity of the celebrations would have made headline news. Worldwide.

     

     

     

     

    Ajer: Se7en/10

     

     

     

    The bold young Norwegian monolith has defied the lumbering critique of his early performances by raising his game and sharpness to levels becoming a future captain of club and country. Alert to every loose ball, precise with every tackle, towering over trembling Huns; confrontation with him was akin to a club-bearing neanderthal (Mr.Morelos, adopt the role, por favor…) fronting up an armoured lieutenant of the Praetorian guard. Epitome of no quarter given, none taken.

     

     

     

     

    Boyatta: Se7en/10

     

     

     

    Had his Dedryck moment early on – like in the semi -final – recovered from that Sunday-League hangover slice to put in another solid shift, winning every high ball, muscling out the Hun threat, brilliant block from El Fluffalo to stop their comedic consoloation.

     

     

     

     

    KT : Se7en/10

     

     

     

    Yet again, channelled Jinky, dropped the shoulder, then lifted the head to pick out the perfect slide-rule cutback for Eddy to slam the first stake into their black hearts.

     

     

    Relentless machine of a player, engine seldom idling, always offering an attacking option. committed to the cause, gets it all 100%. And he’s one of us. I’m welling up…

     

     

     

     

    Broon : Se7en/10

     

     

     

    How many Cohiba Siglo VIs can one imperious captain smoke in a single game against the wretches?

     

     

    Strutted around the midfield like a gamekeeper, popping off a Hun here and there, tidying up the pitch for the groundsmen as he dictated the tempo and rhythm. Rarely involved in flashpoints as there wasn’t a grunting pigman who could get within range of him. Milked the day.

     

     

    I feared Halliday was on the pitch solely to main Broon but he spent his afternoon lapping up the praise of the home support; Seemed like an overwhelmed schoolgirl -too giddy with fenianism to target our skipper….

     

     

     

     

    Forrest : Se7en/10

     

     

     

    The Prestwick Flyer finally got his just rewards for his efforts in thwarting the Armies of Darkness. Distinguishing goal which summed up everything that has improved about his game this season – skill, penetration, causing chaos BUT with an end result; a stunning finish to deliver the killing blow.

     

     

    Glass collectors of Prestwick, watch out; wee Jamesy might have something special to slap you about the cheeks with tonight…

     

     

     

     

    McGregor Se7en/10

     

     

     

    Calmac The Defier – earning his place and praise and burying the skeptics – aye, me. And YOU.. – with great performance after great performance. Second only to Broon in season-long consistency, Calmac strikes yet again – more often than the lazy ferry bastards – against the Brox Bummers.

     

     

    He’s back on track with that Zidane-esque half-turn when receiving the ball and it’s paying dividends and opening up the opposition.

     

     

    A Celtic player who’s earned his jersey the hard way – and the BEST way – by a long circuitous route and deserves an honourable mention in the Player of the Year awards; beaten only by Captain Broon IMO.

     

     

     

     

    Ntcham, Son of Sam : Se7en/10

     

     

     

    MOTM for me. Quality oozing out of him. Mother###### feet as cultured as Matisse’s hands, exquisite touch under pressure, weight of pass a delight. Eats Chicken ROYALE’s from MacDonalds for breakfast – mayo on the chips, y’know. Doesn’t go into Burger King. Chews up Huns for Sunday brunch.

     

     

    Laid down yet more righteousness upon those heathens; probably with a little too much mercy. Huns

     

     

    should thank him for taking his foot off their windpipes or it might have been Se7en, or eight. Or more.

     

     

    Boy’s a steal at £4 mill. anchor him in Europe with Broon AND Kousssi, buy him space to dictate play.

     

     

     

    Rogic : Se7en/10

     

     

     

    Ah, those big Aussie boats, clown feet Pennywise would envy, yet they caress the ball like it was Elle MacPherson’s right breast or Kylie’s left buttock (see what I did there antipodean 90s porn-fantasy fans?).

     

     

    Nimble, deceptive, a footballer pure – stroked in that 4th goal; ‘just passing it into the net, Bruce, mate. Chuck us a tinny…’.

     

     

    Hope that languid majesty and guile graces the Hoops anothe rseason at leats – big fella ought to know that his particular game NEEDS a manager who understands it and who can get the maximum out of him. He’d be a fool to leave. Celtic may be foolish not to meet his contract demands some part of the way.

     

     

     

    Edouard : Se7en/10

     

     

     

    Who? Who? Who? Said the Huns, like fucking thick owls. Eddy, that’s who – another French nightmare for them to stress over; taking up from where Moussa left off, punishing their stultified backline with mercurial movement and pace – DEVASTATING finish on his second goal; if you’ve seen the VERY top boys finish you’ll recognise that for what it was – precisely aimed and executed right through the defender’s legs at the optimum moment to strike it just before the keeper got set and shifted his feet. A stunner.

     

     

    Add in his timing – that first goal – and positional sense; we have the French youth project so many enthuse about across Europe. Can we poach him for £7 million? A no-brainer; you’ll search far and wide for that sort of class at anything less.

     

     

    Green Brigade – get him a song up, pronto, make the lhad feel he belongs and he’s ours. Hunskelper supreme in the making.

     

     

     

     

    SUBS: Se7en/10

     

     

     

    Griff – Must be ragin’ he skied that big chance for the 6th; no doubt had some special witty celebration planned; next, time, Sparky. Next time.

     

     

     

    Hendry – good bhoy, took a card for a boot at a Hun. May well become a vital cog in a very youthful backline; next season the big tell for him.

     

     

     

    Sincy – Trying desperately to avoid the ’21st-Centrury Bobby Petta One-Season Wonder’ tag. NOTHING has clicked for him this season. Had it today we’d have hit double figures. Fingers crossed that mislaid talent and thrilling ingenuity makes a return next season.

     

     

     

     

    BR: Se7en/10

     

     

     

    Got his beleaguered squad over the line at last, probably later than he had imagined some months ago, but job done with players mostly unable to fire on full-cylinders consistently.

     

     

    The way he dealt with the noisy wee mutants from across the city in these past three matches has been admirable. The white noise was cut through and the base stats show a 12-2 aggregate in the Hoops favour. THAT’S doing your talking on the park. BR never swayed from purpose. Stuck to his guns, to his philosophy and transmitted his belief in his methodology to the players. They kept faith and delivered.

     

     

     

     

    OVERALL : Se7en

     

     

     

    CHAMPIONS. Again. Don’t get complacent. Don’t fail to savour it; there was a time in the trophyless desert of the 90s every silver chalice looked like a mirage; WAS a mirage, grasped at with hope, withdrawn into the dark heart of corruption by Murray’s mendacious claws.

     

     

    RELISH the Tims on top. DO NOT let the Huns forget it. Bring as much humility to it as you like but do not fail to get it right roond them; their pain and tears are sweet champers. Their battalions of sinister paramilitary goons, their Orange Ordure Pride marches, their Union Bear dafties on tour; Karma has decades of payback for those phalanxes of reprobates to endure.

     

     

     

     

    I think the Cup Final may follow today’s pattern – a blitzing from the kick-off that will leave them unable to recover. We showed the Lanarkshire Huns too much respect in the League Cup Final. Thay saw that. They kicked it. They won’t get within a boot-swing of us on the 19th of May.

     

     

     

    The Double Rebel Treble.

     

     

     

    Soon.

  11. An yet…it continues.

     

     

    Whats wrong with these people. Steive Gee lauded as the answer to all their woes.

     

     

    They are bringing in a guy to halt the Celtic juggernaut ho has NEVER managed even a reserve team, NEVER scouted a player, NEVER signed a player, NEVER let a player , NEVER set up a first team training session. Lets not even start with weekly press conference, handling pressure ….

     

     

    Its negligent ,,again… and yet those clowns fall for it ..again

     

     

    2 years ago the they were running around town with bread wrappers on their head.The compliant MSM had MW as a possible England manger candidate.

     

     

    Clowns, they deserve all they get.

     

     

    Generation of Dominanace

  12. Gerryfaethebrig on

    FeannyB67

     

     

    :-)

     

     

    Enjoy your day

     

     

    By the way I would dinghy the Bammy as well but needs must

  13. Celtic should give some of their players a break for the Hearts and Killie games. I hear they are off to Spain for some warm weather training and that will be a good break

     

     

    We could have 3 players at the World cup and who we will not have for the early European Qualifiers. Boyata, Rogic and Lustig. They will want to stay in training. Lustig has an injured toe and I don’t think will be available for the final.

     

     

    I would rest Brown, Tierney, Forrest, McGregor and Nt’chan

     

     

    Play Armstrong(likely to be leaving), Kouassi,. Miller, Roberts, Sinclair in the 2 games maybe even give Morgan a game.

     

     

    These games should be used as an opportunity to give some of the squad a few games.

     

     

    Cup Final is the next Target and then we need to plan for the CL Qualifiers.

     

     

    Personally, I would only buy players if we lose some. We have Christie and Morgan back from loan.

  14. celtic have been league champions since 7th April 2012.

     

     

    6 years and 23 days.

     

     

     

    —————————-

     

     

    Celtic clinched the Scottish title in style via a demolition of Kilmarnock, with Charlie Mulgrew the architect.

     

     

    Mulgrew scored two and set up two more as Neil Lennon’s side, needing only a point, put the result beyond doubt by half-time at Rugby Park.

     

     

    He headed in after eight minutes, Glenn Loovens nodded in nine minutes later, Mulgrew fired the 35th-minute third and Gary Hooper volleyed in on 45 minutes.

     

     

    Joe Ledley chipped in after 88 minutes and Hooper shot home two minutes later.

     

     

    Lennon’s first title in his second full season as manager – and Celtic’s first in four years – comes after they came from 15 points beind to overhaul holders Rangers, who began to stumble even before being docked 10 points by the Scottish Premier League for going into administration in February.

     

     

    For Kilmarnock, who lost 5-1 at home to the Ibrox side on the final day of last season, it meant once again being the whipping boys at a Scottish Premier League title party.

     

     

    Lennon (right) and his backroom staff celebrated early at Rugby Park

     

    Lennon (right) and his backroom staff celebrated early at Rugby Park

     

    Having upset the odds to beat Celtic in last month’s Scottish Communities League Cup final, the hosts would have had ambitions to repeat the trick here – and both sides began in determined mood, with players flying into the tackles – but it was Celtic who had soon muscled their way in front.

     

     

    Ki Sung-Yueng’s corner found Mulgrew storming unmarked into the six-yard box and the defender powered his near-post header down and over the line.

     

     

    And thoughts of an upset were quickly dispelled as Loovens gave Celtic the second goal that put them firmly in command.

     

     

    Mulgrew, playing at left-back, found himself on the right wing and his inswinging cross to the back post was met powerfully by the head of the Dutchman, who had escaped the attentions of Mahamadou Sissoko.

     

     

    If it was not quite the three goals in seven minutes that put Rangers on easy street last season, but Celtic – for whom Adam Matthews, Kelvin Wilson and Ki Sung-Yueng started in place of Mikael Lustig, Thomas Rogne and Anthony Stokes – were nevertheless getting the job done five games before the end of the season.

     

     

     

    Interview – Celtic manager Neil Lennon

     

    Kilmarnock goalkeeper Cammy Bell had been unable to match his heroics from Hampden but was called upon to save on the line from another Mulgrew header before superbly punching over a fine, curling Ki free-kick.

     

     

    However, Bell was left exposed again when Mulgrew turned inside James Fowler and curled a low drive into the far corner of the net from just inside the penalty box.

     

     

    Bell produced a desperate save with his legs to deny a low drive from Georgios Samaras before cup final goal hero Dieter van Tornhout had Kilmarnock’s first effort on goal with a looping header over the bar two minutes before the break.

     

     

    There was still time before the interval for Hooper to blast a superb volley into the roof of the net from an acute angle after being found by Mulgrew’s curling cross to the back post.

     

     

    Two half-time substitutions seemed to revive Kilmarnock and they were first to threaten after the re-start, with Liam Kelly – making his first start since the death of his father after the League Cup final win – blasting over, before Forster had to push clear a low Gary Harkins cross.

     

     

    Harkins sent a drive into the side-netting and Fowler fired over then shot straight at Forster as Kilmarnock threatened to reduce the arrears.

     

     

    Celtic, appearing to go through the motions having secured the win that takes them 21 points clear of reigning champions Rangers, nevertheless finished with a flourish.

     

     

    Ledley broke through to flick over Bell before Hooper fired past the goalkeeper from 18 yards to inflict Kilmarnock’s heaviest-ever home defeat in the SPL.

  15. Sandman….thnx to Starry…..

     

     

    SANDMAN DEFINITIVE GLASGOW CHALLENGE EVENT SOCCER RATINGS:

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    As sponsored by Panini.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    (No they’re not – 80p a packet of stickers? f### off, Panini).

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    “I crossed into West for rat. Fifty security guards , an armoured rimo, worldwide media croverage and rye end up watching ra peepil get prumped in ra Wolfhound Paddy pub in Itawon district of Seoul, an embrarassing resrult an whassmore my transration drevice frailing me an ris begrinning to read like ra trotal strereotrypical Asian dialogue effort. Srorry.” Kim J Un. (2nd?)

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    “Eeeeeh, tell yees dis, der’ll be nowt eh dis chrap when me ‘an de lads sart owt de Hoons – megea investment an’ ‘nat wi me wee scally squad roonin’ d’Albion ceeeeeer perk – ey, looch after yer alloys fer a tenner, mayte – an A’ll be ‘avin Joey fay Bread in nets, big Yosser Yews ancherin’ de middle, an we’ll be stichin’ Scully an’ Mooey up front. No probs, likesay. Calm down, calm down.” Stevie G.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    “We believe in nothing, Lebowski. Nothing. And tomorrow we come back and we cut off your chonson. Whereas what we have here? A bunch of fig-eaters wearing towels on their heads, trying to find reverse in a Soviet tank. This is not a worthy adversary. Uli doesn’t care about anything. He’s a Nihilist. He’s given up on the Huns, too.” B. Lebowski

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    HA!

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    (follows; intro to Born To Run cover by FGTH)

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    …runaway Celtic dream…

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    HUNSKELPERS RATINGS:

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Gordon: Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    The man with the hands possessing the adhesive qualities of a chameleon footpad – finest shotstopper in a generation, snuffed the single Hun hope of parity with a smart drop-stop to his left in the first half.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Relieved his boredom in bizarre fashion second-half by clipping the ball out to give them a corner. Glorious days when a Celtic keeper is making his own work versus the scurrilous ragamuffins.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Officer Lustig: Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Impersonating a 5-0 during a 5-0 is the charge the Huns wish brought against Celtic’s Swedish mentalist. Presiding over a murder in the East End better than any of Polis Scotia’s finest could.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    How he relishes damning those pagan trolls to Helheim with his swaggering Scandinavian eccentricity – had he scored that 6th goal amid the scramble I believe the insanity of the celebrations would have made headline news. Worldwide.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Ajer: Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    The bold young Norwegian monolith has defied the lumbering critique of his early performances by raising his game and sharpness to levels becoming a future captain of club and country. Alert to every loose ball, precise with every tackle, towering over trembling Huns; confrontation with him was akin to a club-bearing neanderthal (Mr.Morelos, adopt the role, por favor…) fronting up an armoured lieutenant of the Praetorian guard. Epitome of no quarter given, none taken.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Boyatta: Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Had his Dedryck moment early on – like in the semi -final – recovered from that Sunday-League hangover slice to put in another solid shift, winning every high ball, muscling out the Hun threat, brilliant block from El Fluffalo to stop their comedic consoloation.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    KT : Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Yet again, channelled Jinky, dropped the shoulder, then lifted the head to pick out the perfect slide-rule cutback for Eddy to slam the first stake into their black hearts.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Relentless machine of a player, engine seldom idling, always offering an attacking option. committed to the cause, gets it all 100%. And he’s one of us. I’m welling up…

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Broon : Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    How many Cohiba Siglo VIs can one imperious captain smoke in a single game against the wretches?

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Strutted around the midfield like a gamekeeper, popping off a Hun here and there, tidying up the pitch for the groundsmen as he dictated the tempo and rhythm. Rarely involved in flashpoints as there wasn’t a grunting pigman who could get within range of him. Milked the day.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    I feared Halliday was on the pitch solely to main Broon but he spent his afternoon lapping up the praise of the home support; Seemed like an overwhelmed schoolgirl -too giddy with fenianism to target our skipper….

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Forrest : Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    The Prestwick Flyer finally got his just rewards for his efforts in thwarting the Armies of Darkness. Distinguishing goal which summed up everything that has improved about his game this season – skill, penetration, causing chaos BUT with an end result; a stunning finish to deliver the killing blow.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Glass collectors of Prestwick, watch out; wee Jamesy might have something special to slap you about the cheeks with tonight…

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    McGregor Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Calmac The Defier – earning his place and praise and burying the skeptics – aye, me. And YOU.. – with great performance after great performance. Second only to Broon in season-long consistency, Calmac strikes yet again – more often than the lazy ferry bastards – against the Brox Bummers.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    He’s back on track with that Zidane-esque half-turn when receiving the ball and it’s paying dividends and opening up the opposition.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    A Celtic player who’s earned his jersey the hard way – and the BEST way – by a long circuitous route and deserves an honourable mention in the Player of the Year awards; beaten only by Captain Broon IMO.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Ntcham, Son of Sam : Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    MOTM for me. Quality oozing out of him. Mother###### feet as cultured as Matisse’s hands, exquisite touch under pressure, weight of pass a delight. Eats Chicken ROYALE’s from MacDonalds for breakfast – mayo on the chips, y’know. Doesn’t go into Burger King. Chews up Huns for Sunday brunch.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Laid down yet more righteousness upon those heathens; probably with a little too much mercy. Huns

     

     

     

     

     

     

    should thank him for taking his foot off their windpipes or it might have been Se7en, or eight. Or more.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Boy’s a steal at £4 mill. anchor him in Europe with Broon AND Kousssi, buy him space to dictate play.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Rogic : Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Ah, those big Aussie boats, clown feet Pennywise would envy, yet they caress the ball like it was Elle MacPherson’s right breast or Kylie’s left buttock (see what I did there antipodean 90s porn-fantasy fans?).

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Nimble, deceptive, a footballer pure – stroked in that 4th goal; ‘just passing it into the net, Bruce, mate. Chuck us a tinny…’.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Hope that languid majesty and guile graces the Hoops anothe rseason at leats – big fella ought to know that his particular game NEEDS a manager who understands it and who can get the maximum out of him. He’d be a fool to leave. Celtic may be foolish not to meet his contract demands some part of the way.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Edouard : Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Who? Who? Who? Said the Huns, like fucking thick owls. Eddy, that’s who – another French nightmare for them to stress over; taking up from where Moussa left off, punishing their stultified backline with mercurial movement and pace – DEVASTATING finish on his second goal; if you’ve seen the VERY top boys finish you’ll recognise that for what it was – precisely aimed and executed right through the defender’s legs at the optimum moment to strike it just before the keeper got set and shifted his feet. A stunner.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Add in his timing – that first goal – and positional sense; we have the French youth project so many enthuse about across Europe. Can we poach him for £7 million? A no-brainer; you’ll search far and wide for that sort of class at anything less.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Green Brigade – get him a song up, pronto, make the lhad feel he belongs and he’s ours. Hunskelper supreme in the making.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    SUBS: Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Griff – Must be ragin’ he skied that big chance for the 6th; no doubt had some special witty celebration planned; next, time, Sparky. Next time.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Hendry – good bhoy, took a card for a boot at a Hun. May well become a vital cog in a very youthful backline; next season the big tell for him.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Sincy – Trying desperately to avoid the ’21st-Centrury Bobby Petta One-Season Wonder’ tag. NOTHING has clicked for him this season. Had it today we’d have hit double figures. Fingers crossed that mislaid talent and thrilling ingenuity makes a return next season.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    BR: Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Got his beleaguered squad over the line at last, probably later than he had imagined some months ago, but job done with players mostly unable to fire on full-cylinders consistently.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    The way he dealt with the noisy wee mutants from across the city in these past three matches has been admirable. The white noise was cut through and the base stats show a 12-2 aggregate in the Hoops favour. THAT’S doing your talking on the park. BR never swayed from purpose. Stuck to his guns, to his philosophy and transmitted his belief in his methodology to the players. They kept faith and delivered.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    OVERALL : Se7en

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    CHAMPIONS. Again. Don’t get complacent. Don’t fail to savour it; there was a time in the trophyless desert of the 90s every silver chalice looked like a mirage; WAS a mirage, grasped at with hope, withdrawn into the dark heart of corruption by Murray’s mendacious claws.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    RELISH the Tims on top. DO NOT let the Huns forget it. Bring as much humility to it as you like but do not fail to get it right roond them; their pain and tears are sweet champers. Their battalions of sinister paramilitary goons, their Orange Ordure Pride marches, their Union Bear dafties on tour; Karma has decades of payback for those phalanxes of reprobates to endure.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    I think the Cup Final may follow today’s pattern – a blitzing from the kick-off that will leave them unable to recover. We showed the Lanarkshire Huns too much respect in the League Cup Final. Thay saw that. They kicked it. They won’t get within a boot-swing of us on the 19th of May.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    The Double Rebel Treble.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Soon.SANDMAN DEFINITIVE GLASGOW CHALLENGE EVENT SOCCER RATINGS:

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    As sponsored by Panini.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    (No they’re not – 80p a packet of stickers? f### off, Panini).

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    “I crossed into West for rat. Fifty security guards , an armoured rimo, worldwide media croverage and rye end up watching ra peepil get prumped in ra Wolfhound Paddy pub in Itawon district of Seoul, an embrarassing resrult an whassmore my transration drevice frailing me an ris begrinning to read like ra trotal strereotrypical Asian dialogue effort. Srorry.” Kim J Un. (2nd?)

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    “Eeeeeh, tell yees dis, der’ll be nowt eh dis chrap when me ‘an de lads sart owt de Hoons – megea investment an’ ‘nat wi me wee scally squad roonin’ d’Albion ceeeeeer perk – ey, looch after yer alloys fer a tenner, mayte – an A’ll be ‘avin Joey fay Bread in nets, big Yosser Yews ancherin’ de middle, an we’ll be stichin’ Scully an’ Mooey up front. No probs, likesay. Calm down, calm down.” Stevie G.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    “We believe in nothing, Lebowski. Nothing. And tomorrow we come back and we cut off your chonson. Whereas what we have here? A bunch of fig-eaters wearing towels on their heads, trying to find reverse in a Soviet tank. This is not a worthy adversary. Uli doesn’t care about anything. He’s a Nihilist. He’s given up on the Huns, too.” B. Lebowski

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    HA!

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    (follows; intro to Born To Run cover by FGTH)

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    …runaway Celtic dream…

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    HUNSKELPERS RATINGS:

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Gordon: Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    The man with the hands possessing the adhesive qualities of a chameleon footpad – finest shotstopper in a generation, snuffed the single Hun hope of parity with a smart drop-stop to his left in the first half.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Relieved his boredom in bizarre fashion second-half by clipping the ball out to give them a corner. Glorious days when a Celtic keeper is making his own work versus the scurrilous ragamuffins.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Officer Lustig: Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Impersonating a 5-0 during a 5-0 is the charge the Huns wish brought against Celtic’s Swedish mentalist. Presiding over a murder in the East End better than any of Polis Scotia’s finest could.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    How he relishes damning those pagan trolls to Helheim with his swaggering Scandinavian eccentricity – had he scored that 6th goal amid the scramble I believe the insanity of the celebrations would have made headline news. Worldwide.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Ajer: Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    The bold young Norwegian monolith has defied the lumbering critique of his early performances by raising his game and sharpness to levels becoming a future captain of club and country. Alert to every loose ball, precise with every tackle, towering over trembling Huns; confrontation with him was akin to a club-bearing neanderthal (Mr.Morelos, adopt the role, por favor…) fronting up an armoured lieutenant of the Praetorian guard. Epitome of no quarter given, none taken.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Boyatta: Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Had his Dedryck moment early on – like in the semi -final – recovered from that Sunday-League hangover slice to put in another solid shift, winning every high ball, muscling out the Hun threat, brilliant block from El Fluffalo to stop their comedic consoloation.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    KT : Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Yet again, channelled Jinky, dropped the shoulder, then lifted the head to pick out the perfect slide-rule cutback for Eddy to slam the first stake into their black hearts.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Relentless machine of a player, engine seldom idling, always offering an attacking option. committed to the cause, gets it all 100%. And he’s one of us. I’m welling up…

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Broon : Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    How many Cohiba Siglo VIs can one imperious captain smoke in a single game against the wretches?

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Strutted around the midfield like a gamekeeper, popping off a Hun here and there, tidying up the pitch for the groundsmen as he dictated the tempo and rhythm. Rarely involved in flashpoints as there wasn’t a grunting pigman who could get within range of him. Milked the day.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    I feared Halliday was on the pitch solely to main Broon but he spent his afternoon lapping up the praise of the home support; Seemed like an overwhelmed schoolgirl -too giddy with fenianism to target our skipper….

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Forrest : Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    The Prestwick Flyer finally got his just rewards for his efforts in thwarting the Armies of Darkness. Distinguishing goal which summed up everything that has improved about his game this season – skill, penetration, causing chaos BUT with an end result; a stunning finish to deliver the killing blow.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Glass collectors of Prestwick, watch out; wee Jamesy might have something special to slap you about the cheeks with tonight…

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    McGregor Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Calmac The Defier – earning his place and praise and burying the skeptics – aye, me. And YOU.. – with great performance after great performance. Second only to Broon in season-long consistency, Calmac strikes yet again – more often than the lazy ferry bastards – against the Brox Bummers.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    He’s back on track with that Zidane-esque half-turn when receiving the ball and it’s paying dividends and opening up the opposition.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    A Celtic player who’s earned his jersey the hard way – and the BEST way – by a long circuitous route and deserves an honourable mention in the Player of the Year awards; beaten only by Captain Broon IMO.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Ntcham, Son of Sam : Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    MOTM for me. Quality oozing out of him. Mother###### feet as cultured as Matisse’s hands, exquisite touch under pressure, weight of pass a delight. Eats Chicken ROYALE’s from MacDonalds for breakfast – mayo on the chips, y’know. Doesn’t go into Burger King. Chews up Huns for Sunday brunch.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Laid down yet more righteousness upon those heathens; probably with a little too much mercy. Huns

     

     

     

     

     

     

    should thank him for taking his foot off their windpipes or it might have been Se7en, or eight. Or more.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Boy’s a steal at £4 mill. anchor him in Europe with Broon AND Kousssi, buy him space to dictate play.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Rogic : Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Ah, those big Aussie boats, clown feet Pennywise would envy, yet they caress the ball like it was Elle MacPherson’s right breast or Kylie’s left buttock (see what I did there antipodean 90s porn-fantasy fans?).

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Nimble, deceptive, a footballer pure – stroked in that 4th goal; ‘just passing it into the net, Bruce, mate. Chuck us a tinny…’.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Hope that languid majesty and guile graces the Hoops anothe rseason at leats – big fella ought to know that his particular game NEEDS a manager who understands it and who can get the maximum out of him. He’d be a fool to leave. Celtic may be foolish not to meet his contract demands some part of the way.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Edouard : Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Who? Who? Who? Said the Huns, like fucking thick owls. Eddy, that’s who – another French nightmare for them to stress over; taking up from where Moussa left off, punishing their stultified backline with mercurial movement and pace – DEVASTATING finish on his second goal; if you’ve seen the VERY top boys finish you’ll recognise that for what it was – precisely aimed and executed right through the defender’s legs at the optimum moment to strike it just before the keeper got set and shifted his feet. A stunner.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Add in his timing – that first goal – and positional sense; we have the French youth project so many enthuse about across Europe. Can we poach him for £7 million? A no-brainer; you’ll search far and wide for that sort of class at anything less.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Green Brigade – get him a song up, pronto, make the lhad feel he belongs and he’s ours. Hunskelper supreme in the making.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    SUBS: Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Griff – Must be ragin’ he skied that big chance for the 6th; no doubt had some special witty celebration planned; next, time, Sparky. Next time.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Hendry – good bhoy, took a card for a boot at a Hun. May well become a vital cog in a very youthful backline; next season the big tell for him.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Sincy – Trying desperately to avoid the ’21st-Centrury Bobby Petta One-Season Wonder’ tag. NOTHING has clicked for him this season. Had it today we’d have hit double figures. Fingers crossed that mislaid talent and thrilling ingenuity makes a return next season.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    BR: Se7en/10

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Got his beleaguered squad over the line at last, probably later than he had imagined some months ago, but job done with players mostly unable to fire on full-cylinders consistently.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    The way he dealt with the noisy wee mutants from across the city in these past three matches has been admirable. The white noise was cut through and the base stats show a 12-2 aggregate in the Hoops favour. THAT’S doing your talking on the park. BR never swayed from purpose. Stuck to his guns, to his philosophy and transmitted his belief in his methodology to the players. They kept faith and delivered.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    OVERALL : Se7en

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    CHAMPIONS. Again. Don’t get complacent. Don’t fail to savour it; there was a time in the trophyless desert of the 90s every silver chalice looked like a mirage; WAS a mirage, grasped at with hope, withdrawn into the dark heart of corruption by Murray’s mendacious claws.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    RELISH the Tims on top. DO NOT let the Huns forget it. Bring as much humility to it as you like but do not fail to get it right roond them; their pain and tears are sweet champers. Their battalions of sinister paramilitary goons, their Orange Ordure Pride marches, their Union Bear dafties on tour; Karma has decades of payback for those phalanxes of reprobates to endure.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    I think the Cup Final may follow today’s pattern – a blitzing from the kick-off that will leave them unable to recover. We showed the Lanarkshire Huns too much respect in the League Cup Final. Thay saw that. They kicked it. They won’t get within a boot-swing of us on the 19th of May.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    The Double Rebel Treble.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Soon.

  16. GFTB

     

     

    Very kind of you to say that. Mostly lurk these days and don’t post much anymore. Anyway its a lovely day here in Cork, one could in fact say its just Champion :-)

  17. Gerryfaethebrig on

    Owen

     

     

    I type the truth

     

     

    Stuff that lurking rubbish

     

     

    I prefer reading Celtic fans thoughts

     

     

    :-)

  18. thomthethim for Oscar OK on

    My memory may be playing tricks….again. I hope someone will correct me.

     

     

    However, I seem to recall that a few seasons ago, when he was winding down his Liverpool career, Gerrard was supposedly lined up for Chelsea, then changed his mind.

     

     

    Is that in my imagination?

     

     

    In Friday’s pre- match press conference, Brendan was asked about the SG situation, which he answered with his usual diplomacy.

     

    He was then asked if he would have a word with him. He said he would, but added, “I’m not telling you”.

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