The Twelfth Man

Apologies for the last post being so garbled. (I've since polished it up a bit.) I wrote it in a bit of a rush as I was heading out to catch the Celtic/Rangers game at Jack Demsey's in Manhattan.

The game was a bit of travesty and, in truth, Celtic didn't deserve anything out of the game. Brown seemed to disappear in the second half, with Jarosik and Sno being nothing more than the squad players that they are. The first goal from Novo - Phil Neville lookalike with a suntan, anyone? - was a gift via keystone cops defending, and apart from a couple of long range Jarosik shots and Donati's header in the second half Celtic never looked like scoring.

However, despite the fact that Celtic didn't deserve anything out of the game, there was no excuse for the partial, biased and bullshit referring from McCurry. Until the handbags at four paces in the last few minutes of the game between the players, their agents, their extended families and their classmates from primary school, it would have taken a Rangers player to headbutt Dame Judi Dench whilst simulataneously stealing a crust of the bread from the mouth of a blind orphan before it would have even crossed McCurry's mind to possibly book a Rangers player. And even then he would have taken it under advisement from the Rangers bench. Shocking that the bloke's piss poor performance pushes me in the direction of being one of those paranoic Celtic fans who thinks that everyone is out to get them.

I'm away for a lie down.