Fionn MacCools Celtic 2-0 Hooligan

Despite the scorching, desert like conditions, Celtic remained cool in the last chance salon, deservedly picking up all 3 points against Hooligans Filmworks, after a bizarre 40 yarder and an unfamiliar hero securing victory at the death.

We are now in the business part of the season, and following last weeks disappointing draw, the margin for error could not be tighter as Celtic sit at the league's summit with only 2 points separating them from 4th place.

Hooligan, on the back of a defeat were also looking to put last weeks result behind them, but Celtic were not in charitable mood and found themselves on the back foot from the start. Celtic were leading from their impregnable back line which was arrogantly toying with Hooligan, like kittens playing with a ball of string. The Celtic defense has now gone an incredible 405 minutes without leaking a goal, which, if I had archival data, would surely prove to be a record. Perhaps resident statistician, Fitzpatrick will be able to verify??

It was at the opposite end of the field where Celtic need to improve upon though, goals were needed, and manager Tibby decided to reshuffle his pack bringing in McCallum to partner Curley in a bid to get Celtic re-firing on all 4 cylinders.

Following the early pressure, Celtic didn't have to wait too long for their first effort on goal. After a mazy run, cutting in from the right, Curley squared to Gonzales just inside the box, who flashed a shot goalwards, which Hooligan's unfamiliar keeper just about managed to tip round the post in not so convincing fashion.

Celtic continued to press, confidently knocking the ball about with small interchanging passes, playing the attractive football instilled in them from Mowbray inspired Tibby. For all the sexy football on display, Celtic would finally get their reward from a set piece following a freekick conceded about 40 yards out down the Celtic left. Box to box midfielder, Prior stepped up to the plate, in what was assumed would be a routine chip in to the box. Prior, having already spotted possible frailties in the Hooligan keeper had different ideas however, and from all of 40 yards, saw the keeper off his line, and audaciously lobbed the ball over the scrambling keeper.

The second half continued much in the same vain as the first, with Celtic bossing proceedings with slick passes starting from the back. Hooligan were pinned in to their own half, and could only relying on the occasional counter attack as small relief.

For all their pressure though, Celtic were unable to finish the game off and get the much needed second goal to ease nerves. The slender 1 goal lead remained intact, and eventually all the points were secured in the closing exchanges of the game courtesy of a sublime finish by Roberts. A finish any forward would have been happy with.

Having been released down the left channel, in behind the Hooligan defense, Roberts still had plenty of work to do, 40 yards from the glory that beckoned. Roberts' pace took his surging run into the unfamiliar territory of the oppositions box, and having decided not to square the ball to the on rushing reinforcements, bored down on goal and drilled a left foot shot into the bottom right corner.

Que the celebrations.....!

"Number 1" was the cry from Roberts as he ran off in jubilation like a dog let off a leash for the first time, and is still probably running loose across Cherry Beach as you read this. Hopefully, "number 1" will soon become 2, 3 and more, now Roberts has opened his account.

With Multinational, KU Golden Oldies and another team that shouldn't be in the league, all snapping at their heals, Celtic will likely have to win their 4 remaining games in order to stay on top of the heap, come September when champions are crowned. This will be Celtic's toughest test yet, with two of their remaining four games against title rivals Mutlinational and KU, leaving the TSSL media league delicately poised. Don't take your eyes off this for a second.

Club	GP	W	D	L	GF	GA	+/-	Pts
Fionn MacCool's Celtic	14	8	4	2	39	11	28	28
Multinational Crew	14	8	4	2	42	14	28	28
KU Golden Oldies	12	8	3	1	38	15	23	27
Sierra Stars	13	8	2	3	34	15	19	26
Morton	14	7	3	4	46	21	25	24
Zoomer FC	13	5	4	4	23	23	0	19
Globe and Mail FC	14	4	2	8	32	29	3	14
Hooligan Filmworks	14	3	4	7	22	23	-1	13
AS Rosso	14	4	0	10	25	41	-16	12
Trinity Park FC	14	0	0	14	5	114	-109	0

Sierra Stars 0-1 Fionn MacCool's Celtic

There is that old footballing cliche, that says a team can look back over a grueling fixture list, and pin point a game where the season was decided. And, often that particular game is against your fiercest rivals, which is usually the first game you circle on the calendar.

For Celtic, after a patch of barren results, last weekends game against Sierra Stars, was where the season's fate would be sealed. Win, and you live to fight another day, hopeful of being touted once again as title contenders. Lose, and the season ends in premature disappointment.

There may well be plenty of more action still to come Celtic's way, as we are only about halfway through the TSSL season, but the stakes couldn't be higher. And with a game with such huge ramifications, time seemed to stand still, Canadian Geese delayed their migration and people fornicating in the bushes, looked on impatiently, as Celtic took to the field in front of a full capacity crowd. Basically, a picnic bench, a couple of subs, and an intimidating Sierra Stars entourage, but use your imagination.

Curley, keen to make up for the previous weekends misfiring, kicked off the first half for Celtic, sporting new footwear, freshly imported from England just moments before the game commenced. However, the presence of the outrageously coloured boots, which Nike claim to be orange, but I would more accurately describe as salmon pink, were to be short lived. Such was Curley's vanity, that multiple layers of socks and sole inserts would not be enough to save the doomed cat walk, and sensibly Curley was soon on the bench changing back in to his more familiar, reassuringly bland footwear.

For the first time it what seems like an eternity, Celtic were almost at full strength, giving Tibby a welcomed selection headache, and a chance to observe matters from the side lines. Monaghan had made a miraculous recovery from the "golf ball" sized injury to his brow only a couple of weeks earlier, Teague was fully fit and Celtic had the luxury of the formidable defensive partnership of Mercier and Stuckmann once again.

So, with an embarrassment of talented riches, Celtic soon got into there groove, confidently knocking the ball about, patiently looking for an opening, while Sierra looked predictable as all there play would go through the talented number 10, that McCallum had in his pocket all day. I always enjoying seeing personal battles develop on the field, and McCallum with sheer dogged determination was winning this particular one, demonstrated by the numbers 10 constant appeals to the ref.

At the opposite end of the field, Celtic's number 19 (who could that be I wonder?) was doing more than his share of referee harassment, and such was the gobby and at times idiotic behaviour, that Tibby threatened to withdraw the striker if the petulance persisted. What can I say, Sierra brings out the best in me!

The first half would end 0-0, but Celtic looked comfortable, and capable of pushing on in the second half in order to get the results they craved. And with the restart, Celtic almost broke the deadlock moments in to the second half. Teague anticipated an awkward pass across the Sierra back line and duly robbed the centre back as he hesitated in possession. Still some 35 yards from goal and with the covering defender closing in, Teague's second touch dragged him wide of the goal and leaving too much work to do. Unfortunately the final shot lacked power and the accuracy, but it was definitely a warning sign to Sierra.

With the Sierra attack still looking relatively toothless, Celtic continued to press for the elusive goal, and next it was utility man Chisholm's turn to test the Sierra resolve. Chisholm latched on to a neat chip over the Sierra defense, and from a tight angle, unleashed a stinging half volley, but the Sierra Goalkeeper was equal to it, and parried away.

Celtic were not to be disappointed though, and eventually all of their hard work would be rewarded. After some good work down the Celtic left wing was brought to an abrupt end, the referee finally saw sense and awarded a rare freekick dangerously positioned on the corner of the Sierra box. The freekick was whipped in to the danger area, and Curley, with his shooting boots back on, effortlessly plucked the ball out of the air with his back to goal, pirouetted and ruthlessly smashed home a priceless goal in front of the ecstatic crowd.

The joyous scenes, however would soon turn in to utter despair. Not long after taking a much deserved lead, Celtics game would be turned on its head. A hopeful punt forward by Sierra enticed Fourie off his line, and out of the security of his box. With the ball bouncing, and unable to use his hands, Fourie was forced in to a sweepers roll, but could only head a short distance, where knowingly the Sierra striker was waiting to pounce. The Sierra striker picked his spot, and lobbed the ball towards the top corner.

What happened next would have even the Question of Sport pundits baffled......

With Fourie now helplessly looking on, caught in no man's land, Mercier scurried back towards goal, and with the ball dipping towards the top corner, took the law in to his own hands, leaped like a salmon out of water and majestically tipped the ball over the bar. Such was the height and stretch of the leap, it looked like Mercier had cleared the bar. Which, was soon to be Mercier's only line of defense, as the ref fumbled around for what we all had feared. The red card was brandished and Sierra were given a life line.

After the custom Sierra squabbling, a penalty taker was eventually selected, and the player who apparently never misses a penalty confidently stepped up. For Fourie, this season it had become second nature facing penalties, but he decided against the usual Grobbelaar wobbly legs and opted for another Liverpool legend's tactics in Jerzy Dudek's star jumps.

The decision to emulate Dudek paid off, as Fourie dived the right way, proving once again, that beating the Durban stopper, from 12 yards is by no means a full gone conclusion. The game pivoted on this moment, and for all the decision that had gone against Celtic, justice was finally served, which sent the much relieved onlooking bench into raptures.

Despite surviving the penalty, Celtic still had another 10 nervous minutes to endure with only 10 men on the pitch. Sierra failed to take advantage of their numerical difference though, and remained impotent in front of goal, never fully recovering from the penalty miss.

This was to be Celtic's day, and they deservedly clinched a huge 3 points against a previously unbeaten Sierra Stars. With Celtic delivering the much needed win, they will not lightly rest on their Laurels, as next week produces a double header in the shape of Zoomer, and a chance of revenge for Sierra.....tickets are selling fast!!

Morton 1-1 Fionn MacCool's Celtic

Following the previous weekends first league defeat of the season, where the football on display was as absent as the non existent match report that didn't follow it, Celtic, travel sick after the last minute venue changes, courtesy of the "Garbage" (Rubbish) strike, were under the cosh to get back to winning ways. It was a weekend littered (outrageous pun) with events, which would ultimately end in the unfortunate trip to Scarborough's finest casualty ward.

Despite Celtic possessing possibly the largest squad in the TSSL Media League, the season so far has been riddled with player injuries and absenteeism, once again calling in to question the possible need for reinforcements. Balancing a squad with the talent and ego's of Celtic's stature is a tumultuous task, and adding to it will be calculated, methodical process we come to expect from Tibby the technician.

Injuries and absenteeism aside, another element beyond the realms of Celtic's control are the wonderful little people dressed in smart black uniforms we affectionately call ref. And, while my documentation of the dictators empowered by the all conquering whistle in trusted upon them, has been quite extensive, this episode trumps all before it -Including, any game at any level.

You may recall the harrowing critique of the first female referee I, and I am sure many others, were blessed with a few weeks back. After a 40 minute drive out of Toronto, to the suburbs, the last thing I was anticipating was the sight of being graced with her presence once again. Luckily, she was only summoned to marshal the byline, but more worrying, or should I say disturbing, was the family of ref's that would officiate the game. Lord of the manner, the husband was the ref, his wife the lineman, or should I politically say, assistant ref and, barely legal, the daughter completed the family line up on the opposite wing. How, any sane farther can subject his teen daughter to what was bound to be a barrage of screaming expletives is baffling, especially given Morton's bullying tactics.

So, with the Adams family (thanks Jude!) eagerly bringing a start to proceedings, Celtic took to the new unfamiliar surroundings with the untested front line of Fitzpatrick and Imnaishvili. A front line that would see almost everyone playing a role in at some point, such was the lack of attacking depth, with Teague still injured and Curley taking care of family business.

The new attacking formula though, wasted no time at all, and marked their intent with the first attack of the game after barley 5 minutes had elapsed. Monaghan scurried down the right wing and squared the ball at pace to Fitzpatrick, who unwittingly flicked the ball into Imnaishvili's path. Imnaishvili looked like he had the goal at his mercy, only for the Morton keeper to smother the opportunity.

Chances between these two sides are usually few and far between, and Celtic looked impregnable in defence with the much hyped pairing of Stuckmann and Mercier. Stuckmann was dominating the Morton number 4, making the ample 6ft Englishman look like a midget with some towering headers.

With the scores level, the first half came to abrupt and premature end, after an aerial battle between the Morton Goal keeper and Monaghan left both players flat on the deck. A cross was floated in from the left wing, with the trajectory falling perfectly between both players, giving the illusion that both were favourite to win the ball. The reality though, only accommodated for one player in that much air space, so with both players bravely putting their head on the chopping block, a collision was imminent. We now all know what it sounds like when a human head thuds into another human head, and the resulting horrific injuries that follow.

After the sickening sound of heads clashing, initially first concerns were for the Morton Keeper, who landed heavily and immediately began screaming, a sound I was all to familiar with a couple of weeks earlier. However, and with so often the case, its the person that remains quiet and relatively motionless, which is where concern can go over looked. Monaghan, dazed, was left with a nasty cut to the brow and a brusie that was comparable in size to that of a golf ball. The ambulance was called and that would be the last action Monaghan and the Morton keeper would see, although the keeper remained on the sideline.

After a lengthy delay Celtic eventually started the second half in a subdued mood, as thoughts were still very much preoccupied with the concerns of Monaghan's injury still fresh in the mind. The injury meant more shuffling of the pack by Tibby, which saw Bredin in the unfamiliar roll of left back, while McCallam debuted in attack alongside Prior.

While this was McCallam's first taste of a striking roll, he had already threatened before the end of the first half with a neat turn and shoot effort which whisked past the post. McCallum continued to make a nuisance of himself, and half way through the second half burst in to the box only to be checked by the Morton left back. The challenge looked shoulder to shoulder, but McCallam's testimony clearly stated that the Morton defender had deliberately obstructed him, while he was at full tilt. The Morton defense were livid, and while they argued pointlessly to the anal retentive ref, I noticed a cheeky call from Celtic Goalkeeper, Fourie to manager Tibby. The substance's of the call was at first not obvious, until I realized Fourie was actually running towards the penalty spot. With Celtic still muttering between themselves as to who would take responsibility, the nod had already been granted to Fourie and he was eagerly lining up the ball.

Fourie, feeling invincible following his compatriots epic battle with the British and Irish Lions, which culminated in a monstrous 53 metre match winning penalty by Morne Steyn, looked to emulate the Bull's fly half albeit by considerably closer range. With an unorthodox starting position, that looked like Fourie was about to unleash a toe poke, we waited nervously for the ref's whistle. Eventually, after the ref finally explained his reason for delaying the kick, Fourie's moment of reckoning was here. Fourie focused and poised, began his canter towards the ball, picked his spot and confidently drilled the ball straight down the middle, while the keeper dived incorrectly to his left.

With Fourie's successful conversion, it will be a battle to see who gets the next spot kick, an enthusiasm which can only be a good thing for the Celtic Squad. However, if Fourie has any aspirations to take future penalties, he will need to work on his goal celebration, which resembled a hyper active dog let off its leash for the first time in a park, disobediently running aimlessly away from anyone. here boy, here boy!

After we manged to catch the runner way Fourie, and bind him to his rightful place between the sticks, it was unfortunately only moments later that he would himself be facing a penalty. After all the constant moaning and appealing for apparent hand balls spotted from the length of the pitch, the barrage had finally warn the ref down, who was itching to even up the score. In what was a carbon copy of the Celtic penalty, a Morton player was obstructed/shoulder barged except that the force was not strong enough for him to go down. However, the ref still judged that enough contact was made, and happily awarded a penalty.

The big Morton number 4, stepped up and scuffed his penalty which ended up bobbling over Fourie's hand, who had dived the right way. It was not the most convincing penalty you are likely to see, and the Morton player may need to confide in the Celtic Keeper before he takes another one.

Before the ref brought an end to the game, there was still time for another bizarre twist in an eventful day. Stuckmann, who had an excellent game, reacted to a challenge by the tricky Morton number 7. Both players squared up in a contest comparable to David and Goliath. And, much like the the biblical tale, Goliath ended up on the floor. The Morton player's push to the chest proved to be Stuckmann's weak point and embarrassingly he theatrically collapsed to the ground, a textbook manoeuvre straight out of the Jurgen Klinsmann book of diving. The Morton players rightfully ridiculed the act, but the ref, who must have thought he was in charge of a Premier league game, whipped out a straight red. Ironic that you will see far worse, career threatening challenges go unpunished on a weekly basis, only for straight red's to be issued liberally for hand bag shenanigans.

Off the back of defeat, Celtic steadied the ship after facing a tough Morton side with many players out of position. The draw, puts added pressure on next weeks game against the talented Multinational, as Celtic will need to get back to winning ways to keep their title challenge on course. I am open to suggestions for man of the match??

Fionn MacCools Celtic 1-0 Morton

If the previous game against Hooligan was a war, Sunday's TSSL League cup game with Morton was the Atom bomb. Going in to the encounter, with absentees, injuries and a general Sunday fatigue feeling, Celtic knew it would be a physical encounter but this surpassed any prior expectations by a good twisted limb or two.

At 6.15pm, location Eglinton Flats South East Field, where Celtic have enjoyed many a cup victory in glories years past, the black clouds rolled in and a dark sinister mood swept through the Celtic squad as they prepared for battle. Final good byes to loved one's were emotionally embraced, as a return from the field was no guarantee, and Celtic took to their trenches ready to lock horns with the enemy.

Celtic's defense, while absent of the much needed commanding presence of Stuckmann, had a ready made replacement in the returning Mercier, able to step up to the plate and refortify the back line. Also, Celtic were graced with the defensive presence of Chisholm, whom had gone AWOL on Saturday following a rumored heavy drinking session the night before. The antics were heavily documented by both kiss and tell cougar's and the Saturday Tabloid papers, making Nicklas Bendtner look like a light weight in comparison.

While the storm brewed overhead and threatened ominously, Celtic drew a line in the sand (yes there was actual sand on the bobbly pitch) and dug their trenches, looking to gain and protect territory at every opportunity. However, Celtic's reserves were soon tested, as little over 10 minutes on the clock, Cetlic medics had to deal with the first fallen comrade. Teague, who naively tried to show some finesse in the proceedings by turning an opposition player, was rudely brought crashing down to earth, proving there was no place for fancy tricks as far as Morton were concerned. A twisted knee was dished out to Teague for his trouble, which left the Striker on the floor screaming like a girl in sheer agony. The initial pain, which could probably have been heard from Eglinton flats NW pitch, may not have caused as much damage as first feared, but it will be a race to be ready for the next league fixture.

If the Morton tactics were not already abundantly obvious, they were now crystal clear. Instead of playing anything close to eye catching flowing football, Morton reverted to hard nosed tactics, kicking lumps out of players, not ball, suffocating any decent Celtic play. Celtic kept their discipline though, and didn't lower themselves to the Morton standard, patiently looking for openings with the now rotated front line of Curley, Imnaishvili and player Manager Tibby.

The First half ended with both sides only managing one decent effort on goal. First, Monaghan whipped a ball across the face of the goal after great work down the right flank, then, at the opposite end a Morton set piece struck from all of 30yards threatened to creep inside the post, had it not been for the alert Fourie who tipped the effort expertly around the post. For all the Morton possession, their intimidating one dimensional tactics (I'm not bitter eh?) were failing to yield any significant return, which only served to motivate Celtic during the half time interval.

Celtic, steadied by the calming words of manager Tibby's half time speech, were confident that if they stuck to their game plan, opportunities would come their way and Morton would only grow in frustration. And, the second half proved just that.

Both McCallum and Bredin were finding plenty of joy down the Celtic left wing, mostly due to the gaping space their gobby right back was leaving, as he spent much of his time camped in the Celtic half. Between the Celtic pair, on at least two occasions dangerous balls sped across the six yard box, with Tibby unfortunate not to apply the finishing touch to one of them. Had the crosses favoured his right foot, surely the Albion fanatic would have had his second goal of the season.

However, any feelings of a missed opportunity were soon dispelled, after Morton failed to recognise the danger the Celtic left wing was proving to be. Chisholm, deep in the Morton half with his back to goal, took one touch to pivot and then with his second curled in a lush cross right in to the danger area, which was just begging to be put it to the back of the net. Bredin, who had been threatening to score all weekend, duly accepted Chisholm's exquisite invitation nodding the ball past the helpless Rooney look-a-like, Morton Goal Keeper.

Morton were physically shell shocked, and while they still enjoyed a fair amount of possession, looked incapable of mustering up the kind of opportunity that was going to threaten a second consecutive clean sheet for the hoops.

Eventually a ceasefire was called by the diplomat with the whistle, and Celtic came off the field buoyed by a first leg victory. Morton will be looking for revenge in the return leg, and Celtic will once again have to step up their game if they wish to keep their defense of League Cup intact. YNWA

Hooligan Filmworks 0-0 Fionn MacCool's Celtic

The score line may have read nil-nil but to conclude that it was a bore draw would be a huge disservice to the amount of effort put in by both teams, in this battling encounter between two of the leagues more physical sides.

Given previous games against Hooligans Filmworks (formerly Core FC) have usually been separated by the odd goal, and the fact that Hooligans have only conceded 2 goals so far this season in the TSSL, the game was always going to be a tight affair.

Hooligans got the action underway and it was not long before the sobering brutalities of war kicked in. Curley's now routine habit of arriving 15 minutes after the game has started regardless of what time the Kick off is, proving the Sheriff's financial penalties may have to be revised, was introduced to the action and took little time to rustle some feathers. With their number 16 firmly set in his cross hair, hand bags were drawn off the ball, leaving the ref no option but to book both Curley and, in a case of mistaken identity, their number 4.

With roughly 20 minutes on the clock, Celtic registered their first real chance of the game. Bredin, back after 3 weeks recuperating on the treatment table following an ankle injury, came off the bench adding some much needed zest to the forward play. Rodrigo, who was having a commanding game in the middle of the park, threaded a defense splitting pass through to Bredin, who looked odds on to score only for their keeper to smoother the opportunity after cutting down the angle.

Shortly after the Celtic opportunity, the battle claimed its first victim. A 50-50 tackle just inside the Celtic half in which both Morales and their right back were fully committed to, left the latter worse off and unable to continue. The crunching tackle demonstrated how much both sides were willing to put on the line, as the game looked to be in danger of boiling over, but Celtic will have hoped that the game ending injury to their right back was not too serious.

Celtic kicked off the second half and looked to build on the solid performance their back line was producing. Stuckmann's ample 6ft 5inch frame was making light work of the Hooligan attack, mopping up the long balls with German like efficiency. The onlooking family proving to be a good omen as Stuckmann's display was fast becoming a man of the match performance.

With the defense unlikely to be breached, Celtic continued to chip away at Hooligan in search of the elusive opening goal, which had it have come, surely would have opened up the play. Midway through the second half, Celtic had two chances in quick succession. First Bredin was released down the left wing, and after getting to the byline squared the ball to the advancing Roberts, who was agonisingly close to breaking the deadlock. Moments later on the opposite wing, Morales manage to square another ball from the byline, to Bredin who unfortunately could not guide his effort goal-wards after a late run to the front post.

For all the chances Celtic were producing, it was arguably Hooligan's who had the most clear cut goal opportunity. With the Celtic defense finally breached, their striker who only had to pull the trigger from 6 yards out, was left bewildered after a last ditch tackle from McCallum saved what looked like a certain goal.

At the opposite end of the field, Celtic had probably their best chance of the game when they were denied what look like a stone wall penalty. Prior, after a twisting and turning run into the box, which left several opposition players in his wake, was eventually cruelly hacked down only for the offense to go unspotted by the perfectly placed referee, who claimed he "didn't see it". The referee's sole indiscretion on what was otherwise a very well officiated game (which I never say) could only have been down to his eyes being crossed after the mesmerizing run of Prior.

After an epic battle between two fiercely contested sides, that saw everything from crunching tackles to inarticulate touchline bickering, in the end both sides will probably be happy with a draw and a share of the spoils. Celtic, may have only picked up 1 point but they claim their first clean sheet of the season and remain unbeaten in the TSSL so far, in what continues to be their best start to a campaign. Attention will now turn to the second fixture of a grueling double header weekend, as Celtic look to defend their League Cup title against Morton.