Posted on Sunday, 19th September 2010 by lordofthewing
Sometimes, watching Celtic is akin to the life being sucked out of you. Today was one of those days. My football soul, left my body and is now being probed on the Discovery Channel in glorious HD.
It was 93 mins I will never get back. It’s a game I’ve already forgot.
Like all luxury items Porcelain Paddy proved to be delicate. He looked like he wouldn’t survive a cotton wash before he left the field suffering from another freak aliment. Scott Brown left the field suffering from stupidity after a fly kick caused him to go over on his ankle.
As he looks for signs of life in his packed lunch box, Biram Kayal will need to look out more hair gel and a book on ‘How to play a short pass’ with Efrain Juarez needing to find his hunger that made him an early candidate for player of the year.
The uneasy truce between Glenda and Danny is showing signs of fraying. They remind me of estranged parents meeting divorce lawyers. It’s icy, it’s cold and seems held together by necessity rather than want. Glenda was badly at fault for their goal. Danny didn’t let him forget it.
The Bhoy Stokes did good. Won the penalty then scored the type of goal that made him noticeable in the first place. The second goal typified how simple this game should have been. Decent ball into the box, not to the first man, not to the back stick but right into the 6 yard mixer.
The winner today was ponderous plentiful possession and that the league table say’s 5 out of 5. That is the only measurable outcome from this game.
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