Fionn MacCool's Celtic 1-0 Morton

The punctuality of this match report and the quality of finishing in this bruising encounter, might have been severely lacking, but Celtic were spared their blushes courtesy of the foundation that team is built on, the formidable defense.

Games with Morton usually consist of brutal tackling and rising to the bait of bitching that protests innocence at every whistle blow. Its difficult to distinguish what hurts more, the studs on the back of your calf from a tackle that was about 2 days late or the constant barrage of nonsense that rings loud in your ear drum.

Either way, it was within the first minute that Celtic would spurn their first opportunity of the game, and would provide Morton with their first ammunition to discharge on the lines men. Bredin got in behind the Morton defense, scampering down the Celtic left wing and curled in a low cross to Teague. With the Morton defense breathing down his neck, Teague had no time to control the ball, choosing to hit it first time but could only direct his shot wide of the opposite post, with the goal keeper rooted. Offside was Morton's excuse for being caught cold, but the cry fell rightly on deaf ears.

With Celtic signalling their intent with the opening chance, they continued to dictate the pace of the game, but would have to wait until mid way through the first half before they registered their first shot on target. Curley, again thriving in his central midfield partnership with Prior, was looking to make a carbon copy of his strike against KU Golden Oldies the week previous. After another surging run from midfield, Curley let fly from the edge of the box, with the ball looking goal ward bound. However, the Morton Keeper was equal to it, and at full stretch acrobatically tipped the ball round the post. Definitely one for the bank of Camera's populating this bone crunching tie.

Before the half drew to a close, Celtic missed another golden opportunity to take in a lead at the break. After breaching the Morton back line with a quick counter attack down the right wing, Roberts squared the ball to Teague, who instead of pulling the trigger with his left, tried to return the 1-2 to Roberts with the outside of the right, but the pass went wayward and the chance went begging, much to the dismay of his team mates.

With the score levels at the break, it was time for another sterling speech from manager Tibby. After observing the amount of back chat, Celtic were drawing themselves into with Morton, Tibby demanded Celtic concentrate on letting the football do the talking. Despite some of the outrageous bait being floated by Morton, Celtic managed to stick to the orders, and kicked off the second half in search of the must needed three points, a draw simply would not suffice.

Unfortunately for Teague, who would have struggled to finish a Sunday Roast, the half time break did little to appease the strikers quality of finishing, who was having a day to forget in front of goal. About 15 minutes into the second half, Curley had gone on a mazy run deep into the Morton box, then unselfishly squared the ball to Teague who's first time effort from just outside the 6 yard box was smothered by the flailing keeper. Although, the frustration of being unable to break the deadlock after so much possession was palpable amongst the Celtic team, eventually their endeavor was answered.

About half way through the second half, Celtic were awarded a corner which Prior stepped up to take. Celtic's big central pairing of Mercier and Stuckmann, which must have a combined height in the region of Goliath like proportions, meandered their way into the box, which is enough to send any TSSL defense in to a frenzied panic. And, the panic was rightfully warranted. Prior expertly curled in the corner straight in to the danger area, which was met by a towering header from Stuckmann, which almost pulled the net from its pegged footings. Celtic breathed a collective sigh of relief, and finally they had something to show for all the hard work.

The goal only served to invigorate Celtic, and they were now looking to put the tie beyond Morton as they pressed for a second, which could have been granted from another set piece. A free kick near the right hand corner of the 18 yard box had been awarded after yet more miss timed tackling from Morton. Prior sensed that this was well within range, but his free kick which had the keeper beat, rebounded off the foot off the post. Lucero, who must have been observing Teague too much, was on hand to collect the rebound with the goal at his mercy, but in a rush of blood blazed his effort clean over the bar.

You could forgive Celtic for fearing that a 1-nil lead would not be enough, and given the numerous amount of chances to wrap the tie up, they would only have themselves to blame. However, given Morton's lack of attacking threat, the fears were more likely born out of previous slender advantages whipped out by fluke goals. This was not going to be the case though in this fixture, as the vast majority of Morton's attack came from long ball's via the keepers rangey right boot. This tactical naivety played right in to the hands of the Celtic defense, and the predictable regularity of the long balls were easy pickings for the 6ft 5 plus centre back frame of Stuckmann, and Mercier sweeping up. Fourie's pristine clean Goalkeeper Jersey was testament to the solid defense he had in front of him.

1-nil was how it finished, but before the close there was at least one more miss for Teague, however I think this is more than enough of a self deprecating critique for one day! Besides, I hear unsubstantiated rumour that instead of being accountable, Teague blames the last one squarely at the heckling side lines screaming for him to pull the trigger, instead of taking the wiser option which was to square to Curley who was in acres. Curley, you know where to send your complaints!

So, with Celtic yet again claiming a clean sheet and another victory, which now seems them unbeaten since early July, the race for the TSSL Media League title is still very much up for grabs. Celtic will have to rely on KU dropping points, but will be chomping at the bite in anticipation of any slight sniff of a KU slip up.

Club	GP	W	D	L	GF	GA	+/-	Pts
KU Golden Oldies	16	11	3	2	49	25	24	36
Fionn MacCool's Celtic	16	10	4	2	45	12	33	34
Multinational Crew	16	9	5	2	48	16	32	32
Sierra Stars	16	10	2	4	42	19	23	32
Morton	16	8	3	5	50	23	27	27
Zoomer FC	16	5	4	7	27	34	-7	19
Globe and Mail FC	16	5	2	9	35	32	3	17
Hooligan Filmworks	16	4	4	8	26	24	2	16
AS Rosso	16	4	1	11	28	47	-19	13
Trinity Park FC	16	0	0	16	5	123	-118	0

KU Golden Oldies 1-5 Fionn MacCool's Celtic

I am fast running out of superlatives to throw at Celtic's recent form, and words such as perfection have a tendency to be a catalyst for complacency to set in. But, if perfection is an unattainable benchmark defined by the likes of Aristotle, then Celtic's demolition of a team, that going in to the clash were title favourites, was an admirable candidate.

Sometimes, before a ball is even kicked, you can tell when a team is going to be lackluster, and you need only look back at the 3 nil loss the last time these two clashed, or the 1-1 draw with Zoomer back in July for prime examples, but this time, when the pressure was on, every Celtic player turned up with a point to prove, readied for the task in hand.

Straight from the off, Celtic were showing their intent, pushing KU into their own half with youthful exuberance, and they wouldn't have to wait long for the first chance to come their way. With Barrero partnering Teague up front, and Curley dropping into midfield in a new look Celtic, the tactical adjustment soon paid dividends in the shape of a corner. Barrero whipped the corner into the near post but the on rushing Teague, and Monaghan at the back post could not stab the ball home as it flew across the face of goal.

Celtic continued to boss proceedings, and were soon rewarded for all their dogged determination and lengthy possession, when a loose ball was picked up Rodrigo, who, with minimal touches spotted the diagonal run of Teague, and slipped in a defense splitting through ball. Teague's first touch took him away from the trailing defender, and with his second, tucked the ball past the on rushing keeper, in to the bottom left corner from the edge of the box.

The goal only seemed to boost the already sky high confidence of Celtic, and dent KU moral. Facing an up hill struggle, KU were struggling to get to grips with the irrepressible central midfield duo of Prior and Curley. The latter of whom soon made his mark on the game. After picking up the ball in midfield, Curley made a typical penetrating run towards the heart of the KU defense. KU failed to close down the run, and practically beckoned Curley as he neared the edge of the box. Curley needed no invitation to shoot, and from 20 yards, unleashed a pile driver which only had one destination, 2 nil Celtic.

Unfortunately, Celtic, and therefore this match report had to take a momentary break from scoring goals, as it was now time for wanna be star........the referee. Having already been dishing out yellow cards like a scalper off loading Benfica tickets, the ref's cry for attention was remedied by issuing Gonzales his second yellow even though he was not on the pitch, having just been replaced by Imnaishvili. I am still trying to work out exactly what infraction occurred to warrant a second yellow and a first for Imnaishvili, following what looked like a routine substitution. What ever the reason, in the confusion that followed and with the ref preoccupied by "Graham Poll yellow card mathematics", play continued with Celtic at full strength. All this from a man, who scarcely avoided slaughter at the hands of Sierra only a few weeks back, courtesy of the brave Fourie -gratitude personified.

Despite the referee's starring role, Celtic did manage to keep the football flowing, and virtually settled the tie right before the stoke of half time. Barrero was causing yet more problems for KU down the left wing, and after beating his man, squared a ball to McCann, who poised with intent just outside the 6 yard box, dummied the centre back and then calmly placed the ball past the despondent keeper.

After much delay, Celtic kicked off the second half reduced to 10 men, after the referee finally made account for all the frivolous yellow cards. The extra man gave KU some much needed impetus, and for the first time in the match, managed to enjoy healthy periods of possession, as Celtic were resigned to counter attack. Unfortunately for KU, resolute defending by the centre back partnership of Mercier and Carney, reduced attacks to long range efforts which usually ended up somewhere in the dense greenery behind the Celtic Goal.

Celtic, with a three goal cushion, were content to play counter attacking football, with the trap ready to spring in to action should an outlet arise. And, midway through the second half the trap was released with devastating effect. After being crowded by KU on the touchline, just inside the Celtic half, Bredin managed dig out a lush ball which released McCann down the left wing. McCann playing the loan strikers role, continued his run towards goal. With little in the way off reinforcements, McCann now deep in the KU box, went it alone and finished clinically beating the keeper at the near post.

The goal dispelled any hope of a KU come back, even after a penalty was awarded thanks to the linesman's intervention. The same linesman who had been involved in the substitution booking debacle in the first half. The penalty, which was converted served to be small consolation, and more of a blot on what was otherwise destine to be a fifth consecutive clean sheet.

Before the referee took mercy on KU, their was still time for Teague to get his second goal of the game. After another Celtic break away, Teague chased a through ball, with the keeper rapidly closing in and just managed to win the foot race, edging the ball past a fully committed keeper, and finishing from a tight angle into the vacant net.

Celtic still have to ensure they win their remaining games, and hope that KU drop points, but what ever the outcome of the TSSL media league come September, this victory has to go up there as one of Celtic's best performances to date. Next stop Morton, where Celtic will once again have to put on a display of the highest standard if they are to continue this winning streak.

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??

A Weekend of 2 Halfs

A Catalogue of goals, errors and double headers. Following last weeks record breaking exploits, Celtic picked up where they left off, writing history in the process against minnows Trinity Park, before the sobering clash against Premier opposition, DV Hawks in the TSSL Cup.

Fionn MacCool's Celtic 10-1 Trinity Park FC

Where do you start? Trinity Park, whom allegedly switched from the Sunday league to the Media League, in search of more hospitable pastures, continued their woeful underestimation of the Media League for the second week in a row, by succumbing to a heavy defeat at the hands of Celtic.

Looking at the score line, which resembles something that would be more familiar at the New Road cricket ground, its hard to believe that Trinity Park actually took the lead in this one sided encounter. From the moment you heard the shrill blast of the referee's whistle, Celtic dominated possession and territory, pinning Trinity firmly in to their own half with no feasible escape route. Had it not been for Celtic's insistence, in attempting to walk the ball in to the goal, which, considering the fight being put up by the entrenched opposition was not completely unrealistic, the scoring would have taken a predictable path.

However, as so often you see, a side dominates only for one aimlessly lofted ball by the opposition, to cut through the defense like a moment of genius attacking clarity. After 20 minutes, Trinity awoke form their sedated state, scoring against the run of play, after what seemed like another routine punt, evaded the Celtic back line, leaving a one on one with the Keeper. Fourie, fresh and alert to the danger after intensive sessions down the gym, did well to cut down the angle, and even managed to get a piece of the ball, was ultimately unable to save Celtic blushes -1 nil Trinity.

Before the kick off I had advised against complacency, as we had in the past, so often conceded points to lesser opposition. A fact that Fitzpatrick was quick to cross examine, reeling off countless victories against such weaker teams, in a robotic vidiprinter like manner. The statistical tongue lashing put me firmly in my place, but almost came back to haunt the scot, before reality finally kicked in 5 minutes after Trinity took the lead.

Temuri Imnaishvili, deployed as a striker instead of his preferred specialised left wing slot, came off the bench to pull Celtic level, after some tricky footwork opened up space in the box allowing a clean sight of goal. A collective sigh of relief was exhaled throughout the Celtic ranks, as the ball nestled in the net, and now it only felt like a matter of time before they would take the lead.

The equaliser though, only seemed to add more unneeded urgency to Celtic's hurried play, and it took the unlikely combination of the two Worcestershire born boys to put Celtic in the driving seat. Manager Tibby, who had previously stated his reluctance to be utilised on the pitch, came off the bench to score his first goal of the season, slotting home after being put clean through by Teague.

Before the half was up, Fitzpatrick added a third. And it was his first since that memorable goal in last years cup final, which every Celtic player, and anyone within a mile radius of Fitzpatrick, knows of as they have been subjected to a count by count rendition of the winner in forensic detail.

The second half continued in much the same vain that the first had finished, Celtic dictating play like an arrogant rogue totalitarian. The hoops had now earned the freedom to nonchalantly knock the ball around at will, and toy with Trinity, like a cat playing with a ball of string.

The feline qualities were unrelenting, the flood gates were now well and truly breached, and Celtic were adding to the score line quicker than the referee could scribble them down. Prior scored with clinical accuracy from the edge of the box after some great approach play by Celtic, proceeding goals by Curley, the returning Gonzalez and Mercier who dedicated his goal to the Celtic back line.

The over worked referee would have been forgiven for bringing a premature end to proceedings, given that both sets of players had lost track of the scoreline but ultimately he proved unforgiving allowing Celtic to reach double figures and a record winning margin.


DV Hawks 4-0 Fionn MacCool's Celtic

Unlike the previous result, this scoreline didn't tell the whole picture. Celtic, thin on numbers, due to injuries, players taking unauthorised vacation (when are you back Seamus?) and other unacceptable commitments, (Sheriff's take note) put up a brave fight against DV Hawks, who normally earn their scalps in the Premier division.

After a physical first half which saw DV Hawks 1 up, Celtic started the second half, aided by the strong Eglinton cross wind, knowing that an equaliser would have them right back in the fixture and would put the pressure back on DV Hawks. It would, however, be DV Hawks who first threatened to add to the score line, after Carney unceremoniously ended a darting run by their brummy forward inside the box. Carney will have felt like he had no choice but to bring the player down, and the referee was equally left with little option, and duly pointed to the spot.

At 12 yards, and against premier opposition, you would have betted on DV Hawks putting the game beyond doubt, but when you have the "Grobbelaar rubber legs" of Fourie in goal, mesmerising the forwards distracted eyes, anything can happen. And, just like Bruce and Jerzy before him, Fourie's tricks paid off, after the striker buckled under the torment, ballooning his effort clean over the bar. Cries of the now trademark "justice" bellowed out from the burly South African, and Celtic were off the hook.

However, Fourie's heroics were short lived. The pacey brummy forward again exploited the ball over the top, and no amount of wobbly legs were going to break his concentration this time, as gleefully he converted to make it two nil. This knocked the wind out of the Celtic sails, and despite some legitimate claims for a handball in the penalty box, that went unnoticed by the bewildered referee, who's performance was saved the scrutiny of video replay, Celtic could not fight their way back in to the game.

The final score ended 4 nil, which in truth flattered DV Hawks. They may have reached the next round of the cup, but they will not forget this bruising battle against the hoops too quickly, and the scars will serve as a reminder should their memory lapse.

For Celtic, their are bigger fish to fry, and attention will now quickly be turned to the League. On a weekend that served a record win and a deflating cup loss, Tibby will look to settle the ship, starting at home (Eglinton Flats NW corner) against Globe and Mail FC on Saturday 6th June, KO 9.00am