The St Genevieve Day Massacre?

OK, this is the set up. Since they got beat 1-0 by Seville in early December, R*ngers league form has been as follows:

12th Dec R*ngers 3-0 St Johnstone

15th Dec Dundee Utd 0-3 R*ngers

19th Dec R*ngers 6-1 Motherwell

27th Dec Hibs 1-4 R*ngers

30th Dec R*ngers 7-1 Dundee Utd

That's 5 victories on the bounce, with 23 goals scored and only three conceded. They're leading the SPL by seven points having played one game more than Celtic but also have a goal difference advantage of +16. And stats like that mean something in the SPL.

They're that rampant at the moment that even Kenny Miller is scoring goals. I repeat: KENNY MILLER is scoring goals. He was as surprised as the rest of us and needed to rest his studs on Darren Dods shins, thus missing out on today's match.

Oh yeah, about today's match. Despite Celtic going into today's match on the back of that great escape from Vienna and recent form of 5 wins and 1 draw in their last six home games, it doesn't look good for us. A defence that is currently auditioning for Danny Baker's next football blooper dvd, and Boruc with aspirations to take on the starring role in a film of this footballing legend of yesteryear all adds up to what couild be known in future years as the St Genevieve Day Massacre.

And yet? And yet I haven't been as excited about an auld firm game in a long, long time. Like a Socialist Standard front cover it could be a thing of brilliance or an absolute disaster. I'll be smiling whatever happens. The only thing that could have made today better is if it had been played at Ibrox.

Mid-Manhattan, here I come.

"Give me a baby in a Celtic top before he is seven months old and I will give you a Bhoy for Life"

Wardrobe provided by Uncle Graham and Auntie Sharon

Photographed by Auntie Anne

A bastardisation of that famous Jesuit quote by his Dad . . . and if the accompanying photograph doesn't convince him where his football loyalties should lie then telling him he was named after Owen Archdeacon should do the trick.

Manhattan Bound

What with my ongoing bloggers block indifference, I haven't really been mentioning the SPL much since it started up again a few weeks back but August 31st means this place and, who knows, maybe come 1pm my time I'll actually be back in the flow of blogging again.

Aye, and I also predict that Derek Riordan will bag a hat trick today.

I'm not going to venture a prediction on the score today, but I do hope Celtic, as the home team, can at least buck the trend of yesterday's SPL results:

Get Knotted

Too hot to blog. Too hot to do anything.

Still enjoying the football, but haven't got the energy to do the spielworks. I know this much. Strachan can be linked to every half decent player in the Euro- Championship between now and the end of the tournament, but I bet come August he won't be linked to Boruc. The bloke's was immense against Austria, and he'll get the offers flooding. I'll be very surprised if Celtic are able to hold onto him.

Summertime in New York City. No wonder people get raged up. When it's this hot, you just want to keep out of other people's way. My way of doing the body swerve is by never having my head less than three feet away from a air conditioner at one time. That's how you avoid those who are only too happy to blow a gasket at the slightest provocation.

Image via here.

Glasgow Celtic SPL Champions 2007/08

Too emotionally drained (and physically drenched) to write anything intelligible at the moment. Aberdeen proved me wrong. Thank you. Thank you. THANK YOU, Aberdeen. Celtic were nervous . . . and I'm thinking of renaming Reidski, 'The Nostradamus of New Cross'.

Nice touch with Strachan going up to the winners' podium with a mug of tea in his hand. Only the third Celtic manager in its history to win three titles on the trot. I hope the boo bhoys will take time out to think over that particular stat.

Just as importanly, that air of superiority that R*ngers had previously had with Walter Smith at the helm is now floating down the River Don. It'll still be difficult next season for Celtic but not as dangerous as I once thought.

I still think Riordan should have played a part.

Gone Wishing

Apparently there was an inconsequential soccer game that took place in Moscow last night. Ho-hum, whatever: who gives a shit. The eyes of the world will be on the the game of consequence, tonight, at Tannadice, and it starts at 7:45pm (GMT).

We've been here before in 2003 and 2005, but this time round the title's there for Celtic to snatch from the jaws of what was seemingly defeat only a few weeks back. I can't write too much. Just off to Manhattan to watch the Celtic/Dundee Utd on a big screen in a bar where I'll be chewing my knuckles in between listening to out of tune renditions of Fields of Athenry sung at high volume.

Now's not the time for pre-prepared excuses, but let's not piss about here. Celtic may have got seven points out of nine so far this season against Dundee Utd but they have got the more difficult game. Again and again, Dundee Utd have shown their true worth as a decent side this season and they have the added bite in their step of knowing that they were hard done by the referee when they played R*ngers a few weeks back.

Aberdeen, on the other hand, have form this season of losing big time at Pittodrie against better opposition. My fear is that if Kris Boyd starts he'll stroll rampant. That swine can score goals for fun whatever else you think of his old round play.

Maybe I'll blog about the game - and the park kickaround in Moscow from last night - when I get back from Manhattan but it may be the case that I'll either be too euphoric or too disconsolate.

What I will say now is that if he's on the bench - and if Celtic are in a title clinching position - I hope that will Strachan will play the sentimentalist card and give Derek Riordan a run around towards the end of the game.

If Strachan is intent on selling him at the end of the season, maybe it's idea that he gets Riordan off the bench . . . if only for a few minutes. I'm no expert in football matters by any stretch of the imagination but I understand that buying clubs are not that keen on paying over the odds for players who have seen less mobility in the last two seasons than an under the weather Steven Hawking.

What's was that old David Brent/Ricky Gervais joke . . "Steven Hawking's football boots"? I bet they've seen more action than Derek Riordan's football boots in recent memory.

Heartache deferred

A bagel, a coffee and a probable heartache

Get the jokes in before Gloomy Sunday

Via the New York Celtic Supporters Club FAQs:

Is there any place to avoid in New York City ?

New York is one of the safest places around these days and anyone exhibiting common sense should not run into any problems. The lack of a Glasgow Rangers presence makes for a pretty pleasant environment. However visitng Celtic Fans should note that the New York Rangers Hockey franchise despite being uniformed in sickly shades of red white and blue do not represent North American relatives of our cloven hooved friends.

Or as one Urban 75er puts it:

"as my friend dara once said to me "our bigotry's so much more romantic than yours".

Hat tip to Kara for the original quote.

Crisis Averted

RESULT

Looks like the Celtic versus R*ngers has been pushed back to the Sunday. Brilliant news.

That means that I can have the combined experience of the cold shoulder from the Brooklyn peaceniks on the Saturday when they see the 'S' word plastered all across the stall and then, on the Sunday, the follow up of witnessing the ignominy of R*ngers cadging a jammy result at Parkhead whilst I'm sipping on a lukewarm coffee in a bar in Manhattan.

Throw in a weekender of listening to Leonard Cohen albums alternating with Red House Painters albums, and I'll come up smiling on Monday morning.

I'm the happiest SPGBer in New York. Gad-zooks, I'm the only living SPGBer in New York.

S'not Fair

The bastard gods are conspiring against me.

Last night Celtic get a result against the forces of footballing darkness and now I'm succumbing to Reidski's patter about Celtic having a chance of snatching sweet victory from the jaws of rancid defeat. So what's my problem?

Only that Celtic are playing R*ngers again on the 26th when a victory for the Bhoys would really contribute to squeaky bum time for Wally and Ally's smarmy army.

And rather than me nursing a lukewarm coffee at nine in the morning in a 'oirish' bar in Manhattan - whilst watching the game through my fingers - on that day, I'll be getting my arse in gear for doing a stall for the WSPUS at this year's Brooklyn's Peace Fair. Surely there's something in the small print of the Faustian pact I signed with the SPGB/WSM all those years ago about a conflicting situation such as this?

What would Julius Martov* have done in the same circumstances?

* I'm pegging Martov as a Fenerbahçe fan. Makes sense, as they were formed the same year - 1907 - as yet another falling out between the Mensheviks and the Bolsheviks. I bet Lenin was one of those politico wankers who would have argued that footie was a diversionary tactic from revolution. Yes, you know who you are.

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.