Toronto Celtic v Junction

Following last weeks comfortable victory over Nation United, this column came in for some scathing criticism from certain anonymous quarters, citing that a biased slant had misrepresented proceedings. Given the result of this week fixture against Junction, it will be hard to be anything but biased, as I pour superlatives over a fine Celtic performance. Let the impartial Celtic writer begin.....

Back at the familiar surroundings of Eglinton flats, where many of the vital victories of last seasons championship were sealed, Toronto Celtic kicked off the game confidently, buoyed as though they were playing at home. The defense, organised and led by Murray, was pushing up the field, allowing a neat and tidy midfield to operate mostly in opposition territory, while the energetic front line were soon asking questions of the Junction defense.

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Mourning the Departure of Rafa Benitez

I use the word mourn purposely as scouring the headlines yesterday morning was like reading the obituaries. "Rafa leaves" one, "Benitez departs Anfield" another. What do you mean leave? Depart? Where to? I ask in vain, like some one in a state of shock at the loss of a close one. He rests in piece on the other side now, a morbid, and not so comforting thought that fills my cerebral.

I may not have been Benitez biggest fan, and in fact at times I found his tactics baffling and his repressed persona alienating, but after 6 years at the helm of Anfield, that commenced with that epic night in Istanbul, its is hard not to feel aggrieved that the poor performance of one season has outweighed the accomplishments of the other five.

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Nations United v Toronto Celtic

Spurned chances, an abundance of niggling free kicks, yellow cards for indiscipline and an opposition happy to settle for a draw from the moment the game kicked off, all conspired to make for a frustrating evening for Toronto Celtic at Centennial Park.


In what is fast becoming a trade mark, Toronto Celtic kicked off the game with the same vigour carried over from last weeks game against Transylvania. However the vigour and energy was not met with equal enthusiasm from opponents Nations United, who gave the impression that turning up for the game was a chore. An inconvenience stowed upon them like  having to read this catty match report. Settling for a point seemed a far more appealing proposition, a tactic which was excruicatingly demonstrated by the Nations Keeper, who's goal kicks seemed to last longer than it would take to cap the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. McGolrick grew a fully fledged beard between one of the keepers epic kicks.

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Toronto Celtic FC v Transylvania

 While the cream of each nations crop begin to descend upon South Africa for this Years World Cup, the real men whom personify the truest and purest form of the beautiful game, endure the heat, dust and occasional weed of Toronto's G. Ross park, in baited anticipation of the new TSSL Season.

While lesser foe's would have settled on the accomplishments of last season, basking in the warm of past glory, Celtic took the opportunity to further test its resolve and up the ante. During the winter season there has been a transformation of Celtic in to a well run club off the field, which now reflects the past achievements on it. The name may have change, but this is still Celtic. Toronto Celtic FC.

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José the Blushing Prom Queen

Ushered in under the romance of flash bulbs that illuminate from the heavens of the Santiago Bernabéu, the elegant José Mourinho danced around the technical area, majestically covering every square inch while puling the 11 strings of Internazionale into treble history. In the wings awaited Europe's potential suitors, clamouring for a moments eye contact from the vacant gaze of Mourinho, whom once again leaves them seduced to the point of salavating at the prospect of courting the special one. What a bloody dream boat.

The final act itself was further proof of Mourinho's tactical prowess, having outclassed former mentor, Louis Van Gaal, almost from the moment the referee blew the whistle. It was as though the whole thing was staged, with Mourinho being the orchestrator in the middle, resigned to an imment fate of glory that awaited in 90 minutes. 

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Liverpool Chasing Spoiler Glory

Slowly but surely, one by one, Liverpool's pre-season goals have whittled down from Premier League contenders, to Europa League hopefuls. Back in August, the now annual tradition of unfounded optimism was taking over the rational mind of the average Liverpool supporter, and had harboured beliefs of finally clinching the Premier League title. Which, in doing so would reinstate Liverpool's much talked about history, as the present day record holders of being England's most successful club.

Unfortunately, from the almost beginning of the season, aspirations of the Premier League title had pretty much evaporated before Christmas. Up next, the FA Cup. A worthy prize for any club, no matter what the targets are at the start of the season. Struggling Championship side Reading, in typical FA Cup fashion, performed the unlikely miracle of overturning Liverpool at Anfield following a goal at the death, then pursued to kick Liverpool when they were down in extra time. Next to fall, ahhh the Champions League. When ever a season is heading south, you can rely on the trusty old European Cup. So kind in recent years, so fruitful. How could it desert Liverpool after such romance??

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Predictable as Ferguson and Benitez

The moment the ball flew off Didier Drogba's boot and rifled in to the back of Edwin van Der Sar's net, with the heavy suspicion of offside, I knew, predictably, that Ferguson would instantaneously begin rehearsing his ensuing wrath about the officials for the post match press conference.

The replays, as expected confirmed that the linesmen had made a glaring mistake, and I am sure the incrimination, would have had the offending man in black panic stricken, also bringing in to question his chosen profession. Why on earth would you be a linesman?? Is this not a job that could have been replaced by a more efficient and accurate machine? Holes in the wall can dispense cash, arguably with more polite delivery than their human counterparts, so why is there not a machine that can judge offsides? Failing robotic linesmen, at least give them the use of a video replay.

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