It is five weeks since Kyogo Furuhashi pulled up with a hamstring injury. Almost four weeks since he returned for the League Cup Final and nearly three weeks since the recurrence of his injury forced an early exit against St Johnstone.
You and I have been watching football long enough to know that from the off, we are told players will need three weeks to recover from even a mild hamstring strain. Kyogo may well be superhuman, but he has not been permitted this recovery period.
A return against Hibs on Monday looks foolhardy, I would also be reluctant to play him against Alloa the following weekend. The Hearts game at Tynecastle on 26 January is exactly a month after his last outing, that should be his target.
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shocking again from man utd
and fkd my coupon
Jota at IKEA????
https://celtsarehere.com/jota-speculation-new-fan-image-sets-rumourmill-alight/
@AN..thanks for that mate..but the original post you replied to …
Was my granda ….just off shore 26m or so ..lies the empire heritage.My Granda james coates …….
donegal….i have posts and apologies from good donegal peeps over the years …Who of course have no reason to apologies for the bastard u.boats.. terrible times mate..
Estadio…can you please have my great great great weans……Ziggy Bowie
George Galloway and the coast guy from GB news being challenged as to why their not demanding wee nippy faces removal in the way they’ve demanded Bojo be removed????
Hmmmmm.
•••••••••••••••
🏴🦄Yoonicornoftruth🦄🏴 (@Bobbofitz) Tweeted:
Hey @georgegalloway @thecoastguy here’s dated, photographic evidence of Nicola Sturgeon breaking Covid rules at public parties twice. You’ve both been clamouring for Boris to go because of parties but say nothing about Sturgeon, why’s that? https://t.co/LZNgOJQJwO https://twitter.com/Bobbofitz/status/1482380031418642433?s=20
just heard one of the bar staff say to a couple who have a function up the stairs tonight…
reminding them that no dancing is allowed
because it isnt a wedding!!
if it was a wedding then apparantly dancing would be allowed
how the fk does the covid virus know if a gathering is a wedding or not?
honestly,
there are politicians coming up with this shite and we just sit and accept it
apart from boris
who just has parties
Don’t watch much English football but I watched the Bournemouth v Luton game today at my breakfast.
Ryan Christie ran the show 2nd half and played really well.
Would have been sick about a 2-3 defeat after coming back from 2 down and losing a 96th minute goal.
Benitez on the buroo?
Good to see Coutinho doing well, apparently a very nice, humble and shy guy. Shame his manager’s a wrong’un
@Big j if you see this ..the wee x was from Indie….my granddaughter she’ s 7
when i was askin about your you health..she said ,.Granda who you talkin to?
i said big jimmy i’m talkin about celtic…..oh she says give him a big x for me…
just clearing that up mate lol x
Estadio on 15th January 2022 6:39 pm
burpes. Suzie Dent.CSC
I cannae w8 for the continuation.
Magical dude Magical.
and apolgies to all our gay friends…lesbian friends….
Paul…Martin…just ban me now…
@petec..and your off…
Countdown….. Keep safe youngster…
Don’t watch much English football but I watched the Bournemouth v Luton game today at my breakfast.
Ryan Christie ran the show 2nd half and played really well.
Would have been sick about a 2-3 defeat after coming back from 2 down and losing a 96th minute goal.
—
hmm
bournemouth were top of the league playing against a team who were about 17th in the league before kick off
and lost
if we lost at livingston for example would anyone even mention how rogic or mcgregor played?
Good to see Coutinho doing well, apparently a very nice, humble and shy guy.
—
fabulous player
and an all round good guy
and always good for a first goal scorer bet over the years
but bet responsibly 😁
It’s beyond me how a manager can watch a load of players running up and down a pitch in training day in day out and also do a bit in practice games and then decide yip he’s the one for our next game…… dare say there are are few on here that can teach him a thing or two 👍
Just felt I would ask a wee question relating to football and Celtic
Anything…no’ that fussy….just as long as it swamps the nugget.
It’s beyond me how a manager can watch a load of players running up and down a pitch in training day in day out and also do a bit in practice games and then decide yip he’s the one for our next game…… dare say there are are few on here that can teach him a thing or two 👍
Just felt I would ask a wee question relating to football and Celtic
—-
dont be shy
ask the question….
LADTH:
“if we lost at livingston for example would anyone even mention how rogic or mcgregor played?”
Not me, but then I care about the Celtic score.
Bournemouth or Luton – not so much…
The late winner was no reflection on the way the 2nd half was played, it just defined the outcome of the game.
LADTH
If you don’t now the question you obviously don’t know the answer .
Drambowiecelt,
hehe
I didnae realise Celtic had to call off 3 games.
Its a conundrum!!!!
HH Bro
@petec..lol you keep doin whit you’ve always done youngster….
i got a wee present for my bday new years eve….Feck you Swallex…lol
Anyhoo its called Honey jack daniels…..i’ m a drambuie man…but …
tempted…….
Lying broken, scattered, shattered,
Like dreams discarded, never mattered
Ambition washed away to drain,
Leaving just a shadow’s stain.
And yet he stares upon the scene
And wonders what he could have been
That bloody kerb an inch too high
If only he had learned to fly.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=rqs_XS0zIXk
I genuinely think Celtic will go far in this Inaugural Euro competition. I’m talking the Final.
This is, I reckon, gonnae be in the thinking of the wans that make these decisions. Going against Sevco with a totally weakened team is probably the way I’d go.
Ange has the Squad fired up and ready to play the way He wants Celtic to play. And when the Chips are down, just don’t play like St Mirren (anti fitba) and give it Everything.
Celtic are Excellent under dogs anyway.
This popped up on my Youtube thang.
Not watched yet.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x4wXi0zwP1M
Oh No I’ve turned CQN into a Political Minefield.
This dude is always worth listening to.
so hasta la vista…. for a little while.
AN TEARMAN & DRAMBOWIECELT from earlier:
D: Yes I did watch the Hillman Imp prog – thanks for posting the link. Oh, Happy Days. And, yes, the Young Bhoys are following the Ange way to a tee. Same patience when confronted with 8&9 parking the bus but we did create many, many chances. Joey Dawson does have a presence and could grow into a Sutton type. Was unlucky a couple of times but also got into a bit of a fangle trying too hard. When he stops growing and settles down he’ll be a handful. Young Brooks on the left wing was tenacious any time he lost the ball and put in a really good shift. He has pace and a bit of trickery and should develop into a good yin. (Ben?) Wylie really took the eye. He was the one who kept looking for the killer pass against a packed defence, drove others on and scored a thumping goal.
******^^
DRAMBOWIECELT/ We’re only based down here in Dumfries & Galloway, hence the relatively short trip to Gretna. Being a superstitious sod, I prefer to get my updates from this dear green place ( I know who to avoid) and enjoy any links to the goals – I miss GG, however. It does amaze me that oft times it is our American friends who are the first to shout Yaaaaaasssssss when a goal is scored. I remember my uncles in the US of A having to wait days for us to send out the papers so they could find out the scores and how we played.
HH and Stay Safe
@Estadio……….i don’t post this with malice…..
i feel your time has come and gone! .almost .like my fav guy Ziggy has gone..
you are a natural and beautiful spreader ” of the coscmic language..So
Cut the bull….
H.H
Drambowiecelt
You remind me of Boris Johnson!
That awkward moment (copyright BSR) when you find out that Wullie Collum has been replaced by Boaby Madden for the huns game .
This kid has now scored 12 of these in the EPL. Only Beckham at 18 has scored more. Just watch – hardly any run up, bullets ball into postage stamp from 30+ yards. Great to watch. Generates excitement every time his team gets a free kick.
Absent Griffiths, now history, we have not one player who can even approach doing this.
https://youtu.be/opDb9EfyMmQ
Callin Greenpinata.mcphailbhoy
Re the swim you guys were informing us about.
Seen this on twitter
https://twitter.com/rtenews/status/1482369906540785672?t=MzsrtUy9hMVwt3ohztwGXw&s=19.
Impressive stuff lads
HH
Scaniel.thanks.good memories 👍
HH
@@@@@@@scaniel ok look away my fellow…TIM
because i am hitting the
p67
#blog with ..boom hibs …hearts monkeys and emdae thats not at the gemme…
no results are blah blah..bah………….are we clear…??/
prince andrew never..happened cqn
The cargo was time itself. Not just any old time, it was ‘My Time’, and I was the man at the wheel of the white van about to deliver it….strangely enough …..to me!
It sat in its box; a box made of warps and weaves, energy and chaos, vacuum and gravity; it’s desperate urges to break free were obvious as the bulged, strained and stretched its container. I looked at it pulsating in the hold of my sleek, slim, silver, shiny, speeding, reality-busting transporter. I was at the controls; where I chose to go, it would take me; when I chose to get there it would arrive; and when I chose to leave it would go.
My choice, my decision, my existence!
An existence that couldn’t be more straightforward and while I didn’t really understand how the wee bits of oose, custard cream crumbs and a never ending supply of chicken balti on a conveyer belt worked in such magnificent harmony, I did know that it existed; after all I existed; otherwise the word ‘existence’ wouldn’t really mean much. But simple as it seemed, all good things come to an end or more optimistically come to a new beginning; I felt a strange tingle that said it was time for my assault on the next stage of my existence.
I decided to treat it the way that I had treated everything else in the timeless vortex within which I ‘is’! (It was timeless and therefore ‘was’, ‘will’ and tenses in general didn’t really apply). Straight and forward was the recipe. No bends, no swerves; deflector shields up and with the attenuators of innocence, confidence and indestructibility of youth set at full strength, it would be just a gung-ho battering into oblivion of any stray cloud of puny anti-existence meteors. The journey was what mattered. I set my coordinates and willed myself and vessel with its priceless cargo towards the edge of ‘discovery precipice’. It was there as I launched myself into the unknown I knew that no questions encountered would remain unanswered, no problems unsolved, no barrier standing but most of all no mystery, even the greatest of them all, unexplained.
Otherwise what was I doing at the controls of this sleek, slim, silver, shiny, speeding cocoon? Surely it wasn’t just for pulling burds? Surely it wasn’t just a flight of fancy?
Was that the first of the questions that needed an answer?
And where had these words like ‘was’ and ‘would’ and ‘wasn’t’ suddenly coming from….come from, came from?
WHOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSHHHHHH.
*********************************************************************
I was so clever, so self-sufficient, so in control that the smile of satisfaction sometimes appeared to lesser mortals as ‘smug’. I didn’t let it bother me. After all most people knew their place and recognised that it was a privilege to meet another being with all the answers. They accepted that humility was the least they could show as a mark of their gratitude.
Mind you unrivalled insight into cause, effect and consequences could be seen as a burden or even dangerous; but being special right from the beginning I saw it as more of a privilege, an opportunity and even a right. I realised that gifts are usually bestowed on those who can utilise their powers with equanimity and wisdom. It was clear that I owed it to the future to treat this legacy of my pre-natal existence with respect.
The words of my father reverberated in my head like the higgs boson through eternity…..
“When that midwife slapped you across the bare arse, she turned an ignition key; primed you for action. Like she had kick-started a Harley” he always said. “You didn’t scream or even whimper; naw you were scary…..Know what you done?….You opened your eyes! Normal weans don’t do that, not for weeks. But you did and sort of looked at us all with sense of disgust. She handed you to me, like she was handing over a freshly removed diseased liver although her glance suggested that she thought I was even more disgusting and useless. It was clear that at least for now, her job was complete. From then on everything was down to me. And guess what I did or done (bleedin grammar)? Go on guess…Well all I ever did or done was point you towards a world that apparently had affronted you and gave you the throttle. Vrooooom!!!!….Ever since you’ve roared in its face!”
Aye, I was a dangerous wean.
No one, unless bearing sugary presents, dared lean over the weaponised bullet-proof limousine that masqueraded as a pram. Only total eejits pulled back the veil and chucked me under the chin with some sort of pathetic ‘coochy coo’. The few that did…..ha ha ha! Well ……..tales of fingers ripped from their sockets spread more rapidly than the bloodstain from their tattered arteries. My mammy put up a warning sign on the barbed-wire rimmed hood.
“If you really want to keep yer teeth,
Beware the monster underneath!”
To my mind of course, and what a magnificent example of a mind it was, swaddled in my pram world life was indeed gloriously straightforward.
From cradle (bottom drawer of the sideboard), to crawl, to staggering first steps, walking, running, jumping and kicking a ball, my five senses were primed like ever twitching antennae to pick up on lessons, examples, advice and most of all how to bend the football with the outside of either foot while sending the goalkeeper the ‘wrang way’!
I was a superhero, a god, invincible. I had the sweetest left foot in the world. I was going to be Celtic’s greatest ever discovery. It didn’t matter if they didn’t have scouts out to find me, as soon as I could keep the ball up for more than 365, zig zagging up left foot, right foot, left knee, right knee and head, then zig zagging back down head, right knee, left knee, right foot and left foot, they would find me. I would be their Grail.
There I would be outside the main entrance to Celtic Park; from dawn to dusk if need be until Jimmy McGrory came out, chewing his unlit pipe, just to see what the racket was and why a crowd of a thousand or more had gathered.
It would be my stage, my audition……..365, 366……… and the gathered congregation would go into raptures. How could they do anything else; they were in the presence of Genius. In fact it wasn’t just Genius with a capital G! It was G…E….N….I….U…S!! I wouldn’t have to spell it out.
Surely no-one had ever been here before. Without doubt I was the first to climb this mountain; to stare at the panorama below. A vista filled with football pitch after football pitch; opposition teams waiting, limbering, like challengers for my crown. Red blaize, black ash, GRASS, mighty stadia stretching as far as the eye could see, to the edge of the known reality where the green undulating horizon caressed the brilliant blue sky, and beyond into the black soulless void (or Airdrie as it was better known).
I was going there; it was simple; I was in control.
“In Control” I repeated to myself and then the full amazing truth hit home and I was pinned back in my Recarro space sea bucket seat as my mind went into force 10 G overdrive. “I wasn’t just IN CONTROL, I wasn’t just part of a plan or even THE plan. ‘I’ was the plan. ‘I’ was why God had waved his hand and said let there be light; ‘I’ was why Adam and Eve had been sent to make their way in this new creation. The whole world was built around me.”
It took a few minutes for me to accept that at the age of eight and a half I was at the helm of the whole universe and master of the future. I could feel the approach of a sobering humility but as the reality of my power struck home, I made my first decision. I would get someone to feel humble for me, after all if that jug eared galoot in Buck house could have a ‘man’ to put his toothpaste out, I surely could have a delegate to do humility. I put it at the top of my list of things to do. After all I had to practice my keepy-uppy!
Yes, life would be straightforward; I would be indomitable; I was THE unstoppable force that laughed with contempt in the faces of charlatans who strutted around as ‘immovable objects’!
But how had I got here, how had I become the greatest supporter, legend, player and role model for the Celtic universe! What had happened to me? Sitting there in my silver spaceship, taking on the monsters of thin dimension that separates night and day? I strained to remember. Every day became more of a dirge to recall, every hour passed seemed to erase another brush stroke, fade a tint or dull a voice of my journey from that netherworld. And yet I knew I had to remember…I had to recall….otherwise what was existence all about? I grasped at the fleeting echoes of before ageing.
I wrote it down, pinned it to the wall, door, everywhere. It was important to remember it. One day it would save my sanity…..of that I was sure.
TO BE CONTINUED
24:00 is True.
Tony Benn.
A wee bit of wistful rhyme…I’ll be back in another 5 years…
Eating marshmallow logs
Hypnagogia’s the door, which opens with a stealthy snore
And bids you cross into a world where left and right are tightly curled
Where up and down and good and bad, right and wrong and joyful, sad
Dance over under, whisper, shout, in your face yet full of doubt
Where he is she and I am you, where six and four add up to two
Where she is he and you are me, where four and six add up to three
Where talking dogs and flying rats, strut and sing in sharps and flats,
In theatres shaped from scarlet foam where snakes and politicians roam
Hissing, smarmy, spitting fire, each in turn a bigger liar
Selling hope that disappears and turning laughter into tears
Where voices from your childhood past, and friends and family form the cast
of echoes from a long lost age, upon that ever changing stage.
Where over there is over here and tea and scones turn into beer
As surfing on the white capped brine, imprisoned in the dark damp mine
And diving into hellfire’s fate, you find yourself at heaven’s gate
Within the ragamuffin’s queue, behind the hippo sniffing glue
With square slice sausage on a plate, to stave the hunger while you wait
Another reverie of mind as long lost love is wined and dined.
She smiles, she winks……I think she might, another figment of the night
Drowned by screams that lurk within a thunderclap like black stained sin
The bin man hauls me frae ma dreams, and Glasgow’s rain-soaked sunshine gleams
Between the slats on sleds o’ dust, and shakes sleep’s cobweb free of rust
To make me sit up wae a start, consigning racing beating heart
Behind a veil, just out of sight, tucked ‘neath the pillow of the night.
Estadio
Talking of Big Jimmy
NASA is due to launch a new telescope in space and they have called it Big Jimmy
https://jwst.nasa.gov/content/about/index.html
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IXIyFM60uPg
Corinne who is a Miracle just being here….. ma Big Sister, had awesome lyrics bach way before the Davie Hay.
I was also up for building Ireland.
Not a EU Ireland..
Celtic First – hope you are still Abdul Quadir.