Minute by Minute Match Reports on Guardian

[therock67]

Anyone here read the Minute by Minute match reports on www.guardian.co.uk ever? Generally very funny. Plenty up there for the world cup - worth a read if you're bored and looking for something to read.

Anyway I have some old ones from past Celtic matches written by Barry Glendenning that I thought I'd post for general amusement.

Long post but some of the banter is cracking.

The Battle of Britain: part one!
________________________________________
Rangers 0 - 1 Manchester United

Phil Neville 5

Barry Glendenning
Wednesday October 22, 2003


Ibrox, home of Rangers

Pre-match emails:
Alex Pickering: "I know it's been said before, but exactly which part of Scotland is Khizanishvili from?"
Brian McCloskey: "How the heck does this work? I want both teams to lose."
Jimmy Keaveney: "The pain they must be going through, all those United haters all over Ireland. What to do when the team you hate comes up against the only team in the world that you hate more, the dreaded huns."
Preamble:
The walls of Castle Greyskull are bulging as the Orcs and the Slytherins emerge from the tunnel to a crescendo of noise from the assembled Orc fans holding up big blue cards. Or are they giant tissues for their big bluie noses? There's an audible hum of excitement in the air, or else it's a burger van behind the stand that's gone on the blink. Team news: Rio Ferdinand has remembered to turn up. Bless.
1 min: Rangers kick off, and within about 30 seconds, John O'Shea picks up a yellow card for a lunging, late tackle on Peter Lovenkrands.
Extremely laboured gag: Such is the defening noise that if a Loyalist marching band were to parade through Ibrox right now, you wouldn't hear a thing. In fact, if you were a member of Abba and were marking Rangers midfielder Ricksen, you'd probably turn to him and ask: "Can you hear the drums Fernando?" Thank you, I'll get me coat.
2 mins: Rangers are looking very settled so far, passing the ball around nice and neatly, making Manchester United work hard to win possession. Vanoli gets a cross into the Manchester United box from the left, which is cleared easily.
5 mins:GOAL: Rangers 0 - 1 Man Utd Phil Neville scores. No, really. He does. He picked the ball up just inside the Rangers half, exchanged passes with Ruud van Nistelrooy and, as the Rangers defence parted like the Red Sea (sorry to use that Catholic analogy, Rangers fans) he advanced on goal and, from the edge of the box, scuffed a low shot past Klos and into the bottom left-hand corner. Phil Neville.
9 mins: Ryan Giggs skies a long-range effort over the bar. At the far end, Paolo Vanoli goes down under a Gary Neville challenge but despite the appeals of the Rangers hordes, no penalty is forthcoming.
12 mins: Another big shout for a Rangers penalty as Vanoli goes down in the penalty area under a challenge of sorts from Fortune. No penalty.
Can anyone tell Mark Anderson where he can see this game in Seattle? According to him it's "the biggest European match in years". So big, in fact, that he couldn't be bothered finding out where he might be bale to see it until 13 minutes into the first half. Both sides have settled nicely, thanks for asking. It's just Rangers have settled better.
15 mins: Arteta tries to get something going down the right wing, but the ball ends up with Mols on the opposite flank. Rangers are keeping possession well, passing nicely and going nowhere s-l-o-w-l-y. They haven't troubled United at all in the final third yet.
17 mins: Gary Neville gets beaten by the bounce of a high, dropping ball deep in his own half, but his goal-scoring bruv bails him out by Heskeying the ball into Row Z. Throw for Rangers.
"Who said that Roy Keane would never play for Ireland again?" asks Alan Fagan. "Here he is playing for God and country. Well, four fifths of it anyway!" Very droll.
20 mins: Neither side is looking particularly dangerous in the final third, but Rangers are enjoying the majority of the possession at the moment. They're using the ball well ... up to a point. That point being the Manchester United penalty area. Phil Neville crosses one into the far post, which is of little use to Ryan Giggs and Paul Scholes, who are queuing up at the near post.
25 mins: My computer is playing up here, so my apologies for the vast chunk of text that just went missing. Of couresec you won't have noticed because it didn't actually appear up here, but I thought I'd better mention it in case you thought I was idling. Anyway, I have no idea where it went. You didn't miss much, apart from the amusing sight of Roy Keane bouncing off Craig Moore as he attempted to run through him.
27 mins: Gary Neville concedes a corner as Paolo Vanoli attempts to run behind him and cut in a cross. The corner is swung in, United fail to clear poroperly, Ricksen volleys and Vanoli shoots the rebound low, hard and wide. Bad miss.
31 mins: Mark Anderson in Seattle, get thee to the George and Dragon Pub, and leave the price of a pint behind the bar for Keith Cirillo, who was the first to furnish me with this information. This match currently resembles one of those women who flirts with you all night and then gets coy at the business end of proceedings. If you know what I mean.
34 mins: I lie like a cheap rug. Vanoli scuffs a shot just wide of Tim Howard's right-hand post after being teed up by a fluffed clearance. The ball was pinging around the Manchester United penalty area, but kept bouncing and rolling tantalisingly out of reach of Mols, Lovenkrands and Arveladze.
36 mins: Shota Arveladze shoots from the edge of Manchester United penalty area and brings a finger-tip save out of Tim Howard. Unlucky. United break from the ensuinig corner and Giggs ruins a promising move by failing to pick out Scholes with what should have been a fairly straightforward pass. Berg clears.
Elsewhere, my Red Sea Catholic analogy (5 mins) has gone down like a lead balloon. "Hate to be picky Barry, but wouldn't parting the Red Sea be more of a Hebrew analogy?" enquires Tyler Cummings. You have to be up early in the morning to catch you lot out.
43 mins: My apologies, I've just lost another large chunk of commentary and am currently turning the air around my head a not-so-subtle shade of Rangers-blue. I dunno what's going on here with this infernal machine. Whatever it is, the only thing of any real importance you missed was this mail from Feidhlim O'Hanlon: "Barry, did you once play for Birr Town in the Offaly Schoolboy League? I seem to remember your name." Indeed I did Feidhlim, many times, about 16 years ago. I made the No3 shirt my own and I remain mystified as to how I slipped through the net and never made it as a top-flight professional. It can't possibly have been anything to do with the fact that I was shite.
44 mins: United go in with a one-goal lead. The way it's been going, anything could happen in the second half. Anything except this f**king heap of junk that passes for a PC doing what it's f**king told.
Half-time
46 mins: "Barry, can you ask if Feidhlim O'Hanlon (43 mins) is from Athlone? I think we went to school together. I'm in San Francisco using your match tracker," says Tony Donohue, who I'm sure also remembers me cutting a dash with my educated left foot (no, that doesn't make me a Rangers fan) around the football pitches of the Irish midlands as a boy. Well Feidhlim? Manchester United get the second half underway.
47 mins: Ruud van Nistelrooy concedes a free-kick by clattering Michael Ball. For everyone who's asking, Roy Keane is getting booed every time he gets the ball. I'm sure he's devastated. Lamb.
48 mins: United attack. Giggs plays Van Nistelrooy through the centre but Berg puts a stop to the human-horse's gallop. Moments later, Giggs attempts to cross for the on-rushing Van Nistelrooy once again, but his ball is easily cut out. Poor effort. He's not having the best of games and Keane has bollocked him out of it on more than one occasion. Rather him than me.
With regard to the picture of Castle Greyskull that's accompanying this report, Joe McGrath has this to say: "Who polished up Ibrox then? It didn't look as welcoming as that when I passed it at lunchtime."
51 mins: The final word on my Red Sea analogy goes to Jfzenino: "Sorry," he/she says, although I suspect he/she's not sorry at all. "But it isn't an analogy, it's a simile. Plus it's not Catholic, but Biblical or Jewish as it is in the Old Testament." That's put me back in my box, in much the same way that Scholes puts Van Nistelrooy back in the Rangers box. Sadly, he skews an excellent scoring opportunity low and wide.
53 mins: Manchester United are starting to impose themselves a bit and have Rangers under the cosh at the moment. At half-time, The Imperial Lord Ferg said that he thought they'd scored too early in the match. Some people are never happy.
55 mins: Oh dear! Oh dear! Phil Neville somehow clears a Craig Moore bullet header from close range off the line. Minutes later, Lovenkrands misses a sitter, albeit under pressure from Rio Ferdinand. Suddenly, it's all Rangers. From a corner, Lovenkrands ghosts past John O'Shea and directs a header straight at Howard in the Manchester United goal. Three brilliant chances go a begging for Rangers in the space of a minute.
59 mins: Henning Berg leads a Rangers march down the Shankill Road that is the right wing of the Ibrox sward. John O'Shea relieves him of the ball and Manchester United go forward. I have £20 quid on the draw here, so I make no apologies for typing the following sentence: "Come on Rangers!"
62 mins: Scholes finds himself in acres of space in the area just outside the D of the Rangers box. He picks out Giggs, who finds Gary Neville, whose cross just eludes Ruud van Nistelrooy. Rangers break and Lovenkrands takes advantage of some confusion between Rio Ferdinand and Tim Howard to almost, but not quite, get his toe to a loose ball that's just waiting to be poked into an empty goal.
65 mins: Orcs substitution: Christian Nerlinger for Paolo Vanoli. Friends reunited update: Feidhlim (33 mins) remembers Tony (46 mins) and will see him in Seán's bar at Christmas. With a whinny and a shimmy of his equine rump, Van Nistelrooy cuts into the Rangers box, shoots and stings Stefan Klos's palms at the near post. Corner for the Slytherins.
70 mins: Peter Lovenkrands turns on an orange-peel and shoots from distance. Wide.
71 mins: Rangers win a free-kick about 35 yards out, which Mikel Arteta inexplicably sends high and wide. What a waste.
73 mins: Chasing a brilliant long, dropping ball from the left-hand side, Ruud Van Nistelrooy goes down in a tangled heap with Michael Ball and Stefan Klos on the edge of the Rangers six-yard box. Paul Scholes charges in late and proceeds to trample all over Klos's chest. He gets a yellow card for his troubles. Incidentally, Ruud van Nistelrooy isn't the only man-horse on the field. The referee is a Mr Frisk who, if memory serves me correctly, won the English Grand National in 1990.
76 mins: This extraordinary missive from the Minneapolis Convention Center. "I've dragged myself away from listening to a compelling speech by famous US celebrity Mary Tyler Moore to follow your commentary," says Neil Clough. "She just told a very funny story about famous US fatty Marlon Brando which went down well with the assembled Health Information Management workers. Who's playing again?" So, we've finally arrived. We're bigger than Mary Tyler Moore. What's she do again?
80 mins: Oh God! The protestant one, that is. In acres of space, Lovenkrandz pulls a shot low and hard across the Manchester United goal-mouth. It goes narrowly wide. He was unfortunate, because if it had been any better it would have gone in and if it had been any worse it would have reached Shota Arveladze, who was charging in to get on the end of it.
84 mins: "The BIFFO reunion is very touching, but less of the 'come on Rangers' guff please," writes Justin Kavanagh. "There are more important considerations in this life than £20! Like excommunication, for example." You're right of course Justin, but (a) the reunion was nothing to do with Offaly, it was between two Westmeath men and (b) a draw here will net me £49 quid, plus my £20 back. Every man has his price, and it would appear that mine is a derisory £69. Slytherin substitution: Nicky Butt for Phil Neville. Orc Substitution: Maurice Ross comes on for ... somebody. At last, a bona fide jock on the field.
87 mins: Ryan Giggs dinks a lovely little cross towards Ruud van Nistelrooy at the far post. He loses it and Rangers break. Shota Arveladze passes to Lovenkrands on the left wing and he's brought down. Free-kick for Rangers on the left flank about 35 yards out. Arteta swings it in and Gary Neville heads clear.
89 mins: For Rangers, Nerlinger, misses a fantastic chance from from the edge of the box. Howard did brilliantly to get down and parry his low, hard shot.
90 + 1 mins: Oh, this is interesting. Very interesting. Even darker clouds than usual gather over Ibrox. After several loud thunder-claps and some flashes of forked lightening, the earth is rent asunder and a furious, slavering, giant, wild-eyed, sixteen-headed lizard emerges roaring from the turf in the centre-circle. Spewing molton lava and fire from his 32 nostrils, he rents the air with a fearsome roar and pounds his scaly chest with fists the size and colour of refuse-skips. He impales player after player on the giant tusks that protrude from his myriad jaw-bones, before tossing them in the air, catching them in his mouth(s) and tearing them to pieces with his razor-sharp fangs. With all the players from both teams devoured, he belches with satisfaction, spits out what's left of Paul Scholes and turns his attention to the occupants of the dug-outs and then those in the stands.
Sorry ... that was a typographical error. What I actually meant to write was: Berg brings down Scholes in the box and amazingly doesn't concede a penalty. It was a stone-wall cert of a penalty and he should actually have been off.
90 + 2mins: Full-time. Phil Neville, eh? Who'd a thunk it. Manchester United make off with all three points from a match that ebbed and flowed all night and could really have gone either way, but for Rangers's defensive abberation in the fifth minute.

Orcs: 1-Stefan Klos; 2-Fernando Ricksen, 3-Craig Moore, 25-Henning Berg, 18-Michael Ball; 16-Paolo Vanoli, 15-Zurab Khizanishvili, 23-Mikel Arteta, 26-Peter Lovenkrands; 10-Michael Mols, 7-Shota Arveladze

Slytherins: 14-Tim Howard; 2-Gary Neville, 5-Rio Ferdinand, 27-Mikael Silvestre, 22-John O'Shea; 3-Philip Neville, 16-Roy Keane, 25-Quinton Fortune, 11-Ryan Giggs; 18-Paul Scholes

[therock67]

The Battle of Britain: Uefa Cup, second round, first leg
________________________________________
Celtic 1 - 0 Blackburn Rovers

Larsson 85

Barry Glendenning
Thursday October 31, 2002
1 min Welcome to the Big One. Celtic kick off. The teams emerged to a massive roar. From the Celtic fans. The noise is incredible. It's tense. Damn tense. Hence the short sentences. For some reason. Short sentences. Make it seem. Even tenser. Don't they? As assorted media pundits have bneen pontificating, this hostile atmosphere won't bother the Blackburn players, who are used to playing in large Premiership grounds like Old Trafford. Well, most of them are. Except Dwight Yorke.

2 mins: Celtic win a corner immediately and nothing comes of it. Graeme Souness delayed his arrival onto the pitch until the game kicked off. He must have something in his eye, as the Celtic supporters, to a man, are now bidding him welcome by telling him he's a winker. I think. I can't quite tell with those Scottish accents.
3 mins: Duff goes on his first mazy dribble down the left for Blackburn and is shepherded out to the corner and dispossessed.
4 mins: Petrov robs Neill on the right wing and passes to Lennon who tees it up for a Rob Douglas welly. Rob will be known as Rab from now on, as that's what they do up in Scotland.
7 mins: Blackburn have started very promisingly with some neat passing. Duff tried to find Johansson with a good ball down the left, but Valgaeren made a crucial interception.
9 mins: Agathe skins Johansson down the right wing and crosses for Petrov who fires a bullet with his head. Somehow, Friedel keeps it out with his left arm. A brilliant save from point-blank range.
10 mins: Henrik Larsson tests Friedel with another header and the in-form 'keeper passes muster again. Now Rab Douglas is called into action and saves well from Thompson, who should have done better from about 10 yards. Whew! This is shaping up to be a right humdinger.
14 mins: Nobody's had a shot on goal for almost four minutes. Amazing. "Barry, I've been sitting at my desk here in Lima, Peru, gnawing my fingernails for the last five hours, waiting for this game to start," says the appropriately monikered David Shanks, who may or may not be related to Longshanjks from Braveheart, or indeed, toilet maker Armitage Shanks. "I bet you, win or lose, Souness storms the pitch at the end of the game and plants a Union Jack in the centre circle. And just for the record, Braveheart is the most repeated film on Peruvian TV of all time, such is its popularity."
15 mins: Blackburn win a free for offside and the game seems to have calmed down a bit. There's a lot of scrapping in midfield at the moment.
16 mins: Blackburn win a free wide on the right and it's hoofed into the Celtic box. After a big kerfuffle in the penalty area, featuring no end of headers and scuffed volleys, it's scrambled clear and Henrik Larsson breaks. Taylor robs him.
18 mins: Celtic win a corner. Thompson takes it, but Balde and Laursen collide in the box and the ball evades both of them.
19 mins: Blackburn's David Thompson (as opposed to Celtic's Alan Thompson) carelessly allows Neil Lennon to steal the ball off his toe at the edge of his own box. Luckily for him, Tugay is there to get him out of jail. Forget what I said about things calming down, this game is being played at 150mph.
20 mins: Lucas Neill sees yellow for bringing down Celtic Thompson on the left flank. Nowt comes of the ensuing free.
23 mins: Blackburn Thompson swings in a free from the left won by Damien Duff from Bobo Balde. It's cleared by Tugay.
25 mins: Despite the name, David Shanks has mailed in to say he's 100% Braveheart. No mention of any bloodlines between himself and toilet-tycoon Armitage, though.
26 mins: Larsson wins a corner from Craig Short. Sutton swings it in to the near post and it's headed clear. Celtic win another corner.
27 mins: It's gone quiet again, although don't expect that to last. Here's some atmosphere for our Internet subscribers who can't be at the match. A;ltogether now ... "LOW LIE THE FIELDS OF ATHENRY, WHERE ONCE WE WATCHED THE SMALL FREE BIRDS FLY! OUR LOVE WAS ON THE WING, WE HAD DREAMS AND SONGS TO SING, IT's SO LONELY, ROUND THE FIELDS OF ATHENRY". For those of you who are unaware of the fact, Athenry is a town in County Galway, who my home club of Birr regularly beat at hurling (the game with the sticks) in the All Ireland Club Championship.
30 mins: Celtic win a free a nice bit out. It's humped into the box by Agathe. Badly. Goal-kick.
31 mins: That was funny. Dwight Yorke got the ball deep inside his own half, sprinted for about 40 yards with it glued to his toe and then just fell over. I bet that never happens when he's out chasing skirt.
34 mins: A dangerous cross from Damien Duff was whistling towards the head of Dwight Yorke when, out of nowhere, Celtic Thompson headed it wide for a corner. It's cleared but Rovers win a free-kick. Blackburn Thompson hits it straight into Rab's arms. Some of the set-piece deliveries tonight from both sides have been very poor.
36 mins: My apologies for any delays in transmission but my PC is starting to act the can. Blackburn have missed two very scorable chances, both from low hard crosses from Blackburn Thompson on the right wing. One went behind the onrushing Ostenstad and ... er, I can't remember what happened the other. I'm a model pro, me.
39 mins: Dwight Yorke missed a very good chance after being set up by some nifty footwork from Blackburn Thompson. Yorkie's low, hard shot from five yards was blocked by a defender. He just couldn't make room for himself. Oh, here we go. Celtic Thompson gets booked for a foul on his Blackburn namesake. The latter proceeds to blast his free straight at Rab Douglas. It's no problem for the big man. By the way, before you start mailing me to get the technical support folk up here quickly, don't bother. They don't like to be disturbed during their nightly Dungeons & Dragons competitions. Or during the day.
43 mins: Laursen hoofs it clear after a hypnotic game of head-tennis on the edge of the Celtic box. The Blackburn attack was started when Friedel threw the ball three-quarters of the length of the field to Egil Ostenstad. Mighty.
Half-time: It's the interval, and how the players must need a rest. Blackburn have definitely had the better of it thanks to Duff and Thompson. They'll be disgusted it's still scoreless.
Half-time entertainment: Here's a good one: "I am in a pickle," writes Barry M, who works for a well known finance house. "I have two options tomorrow night. Get outrageously drunk with the lads in the local and fall into a club at closing. Or go along to a dull birthday party of one of the girls in work because a girl I really want to sleep with will be there. Before you answer, bear in mind that I haven't gotten laid in nine months and I get really drunk two, sometimes three, nights a week. Any advice would be greatly appreciated."
Well, Baz, for what it's worth, I think you should go out with lads as you're probably an accountant or an IT worker going by your e-mail address. If you do work in IT or accountacny, I reckon you have no chance whatsoever of ever getting a girl, and certainly don't believe that you've ever pulled. What do the rest of you think? Mark your mails Barry M's Dilemma, please.
45 mins: The second half starts. Andy Cole has come on for Blackburn, but I'm not sure who's gone off. Probably Ostenstad. "Why do you miss the word 'kick' whenever you write 'free kick'?" enquires William Rickson, who gives no indication if he's related to Rangers defender Fernando or, indeed, William of Orange. It's an Irish thing, William. And it takes less time.
46 mins: The helpful suggestions are coming in thick and fast for Barry M the accountant/IT nerd. Most of them are unprintable, but the recurring theme is that he should cater for his own urges by gratifying himself. Blackburn win a corner.
47 mins: The corner is cleared. Blackburn are making Celtic run around like eejits at the moment. They just can't get the ball.
50 mins: A poor defensive header by Flitcroft goes straight to Sutton, who shoots straight at Friedel. He should have done better.
51 mins: Yorke skies one over the bar and wins another corner for Blackburn, as it took a deflection off Lambert. Nothing comes of it.
52 mins: Celtic get a chance to attack. Lennon curls one in from the left, but - I think - Tugay heads clear. Throw for Celtic. Celtic Thompson falls in instalments outside the box and wins a free from Tugay. Celtic Thompson gets up and swings it in towards Sutton, but Taylor heads clear. He has Sutton in his pocket.
54 mins: Duff takes on Lambert and Johansson down the left and tries to find Yorke, but doesn't. At the far end, Larsson takes on Neill and comes out second best.
57 mins: A long overdue lull. "My husband Phelim Boyle (our resident maths celebrity. Type his name into Google if you don't believe me - BG) who harrasses you regularly is very distressed at being unable to follow the game tonight. He is in Toronto trying to raise money from industry people for research and education," writes Mary Hardy, who obviously didn't love her husband enough to take his name. Go sister!
58 mins: An attack down the right by Yorke and Cole is ruined by Valgaeren. Celtic are really under the cosh here, although they've had a reasonable few minutes. Unfortunately for them, it's not Dunfermline they're playing. It's a Premiership team that's probably only marginally better than Hibs.
61 mins: Lennon brings it on for Celtic. Valgaeren passes it to Agathe on the right wing, but Johansson nicks it off his toe.
62 mins: Larsson ruins a good chance with a bad touch on the edge of the six-yard box. A lot of people are wondering if the Barry featured in the half-time entertainment is really me. Do. Me. A. Favour. First of all, I have no such problems, and even if I had, the very notion that I'd look for advice from you rabble is laughable. Ha!
63 mins: David Dunn replaces Damien Duff for Blackburn. The ferocious be-hooped behemoth that is the Celtic faithful appear to have dozed off.
67 mins: Celtic are getting much more possession in this half than they did in the first. Unfortunately, they're doing sod all with it.
68 mins: Larsson breaks down the right and Short robs him with a good tackle and there's a bit of afters. Throw for Celtic. Taylor beats Sutton in the air. Again. Lads like Sutton, Larsson, Lennon and Lambert should be standing up to be counted tonight and they're doing absolutely nothing. Is it laziness, or are they just not used to playing half-decent opposition? I don't see enough Scottish football to be able to comment. Answers on a postcard please.
72 mins: By the way, that's the only bit of serious comment you'll get out me tonight. It is only the Uefa Cup after all. Let's not lose the run of ourselves.
73 mins: A nice little back-heel to Cole by Yorke is wasted when the Sullen One gives it away with a dreadful pass. The crowd are deathly silent.
75 mins: What do you do when you're the Northern Irish manager of the Scottish champions who are getting played off the park, at home, by a very average Premiership side from an area of England more famous for black puddings than football? You take off Paul Lambert and bring on - drum roll, please - John Hartson. The big Welshman waddles on to tumultuous apathy.
78 mins: Oh lord! Hartson and Taylor attempt to mount each other in the corner of the Blackburn box. Taylor is going one way, while Hartson is backing into him with his not inconsiderably sized backside. Hartson then falls over, attempts to get up and falls over again. Quality slapstick comedy, but it has no place on a football field.
80 mins: Momo Sylla replaces Agathe for Celtic. That's Momo, Bobo and Hartson we have playing for the home side now. Or is this an episode of The Three Stooges?
83 mins: Sorry, David Dunn went close-ish with two long-range efforts a couple of minutes ago. However, they weren't so close that I was prepared to stop making fun of John Hartson to chronicle them for you at the time.
85 mins: GOAL Celtic 1 - 0 Blackburn Well, it was a stone-wall certainty that was going to happen after all the slagging I was giving John Hartson. Celtic won a corner, it was swung in, Johnny rose like a salmon and headed past Friedel, only to see Blackburn Thompson head it brilliantly off the line. However, Henrik Larsson was on hand to poke the rebound into an empty net from a yard or two. A brilliant header from Hartson. Didn't I say he was brilliant? Didn't I?
89 mins: The crowd have certainly woken up now. They're loving this. And why not. I'd say they can't believe their luck. If they come out of this game with a win, it'll be one of the spawniest, jammiest results in the history of football.
91 mins: Game over. Somehow, Celtic manage to win a game they shouold probably have lost by five or six goals. Martin O'Neill claps his players on the back as they march off with a one goal lead to take to Ewood Park. Barry M of the half-time entertainment fame, has mailed in again to say that he's not an accountant and doesn't work in IT. He is, in fact, employed in risk management. It's all the same to me, mate. Anyway, if your silver-tongued chat-up techniques are even half as lamentable as the platitudes concerning the ladeez in your e-mails, I can assure you you're going to die alone with an arthritic wrist! Best of luck all the same. Anyway, thanks to the rest of you for your e-mails as well, and fair play to Celtic, who certainly enjoyed the luck of the Irish tonight.

The troops
Celtic Bravehearts*: Douglas, Valgaeren, Balde, Laursen, Agathe, Lennon, Lambert, Petrov, Thompson, Larsson, Sutton.
Subs: Gould, Sylla, Hartson, Fernandez, Maloney, Guppy, Crainey.
Blackburn Longshanks*: Friedel, Neill, Short, Johansson, Taylor, Thompson, Flitcroft, Tugay, Duff, Ostenstad, Yorke.
Subs: Dunn, Cole, Jansen, Grabbi, Kelly, Gillespie, Douglas.
Referee: Hermann Albrecht (Kaufbeuren)
* Note to Americans. That's a feeble attempt at humour. But Brad Friedel is great, so lets not fall out over it.
Kick-off: 8.05pm

---

[therock67]

Uefa Cup, second round, second leg
Aggregate score: Blackburn 0 - 3 Celtic
________________________________________
Blackburn 0 - 2 Celtic

Larsson 14, Sutton 67

Barry Glendenning
Thursday November 14, 2002
Well, here we are again. It's the second leg of the - cliche alert! - Battle of Britain between the Celtic Bravehearts and the Blackburn Longshanks. (They're both using much the same players as last time, so I might as well use the same jokes) There's a full house in Ewood Park, with 8,000 raucous Celtic fans having made the journey from Glasgow. The teams emerge to the Old Spice/The Omen music.

The e-mails are already trickling in: "Two weeks ago we were entertained (partially) by having a Thompson and a Douglas on each team," recalls Mark Wagstaff. "I see from the team lists that both sides have kept one back on the bench." Indeed they have Mark, and nobody is more relieved than me. Steve Guppy is preferred to Celtic Thompson.
1 min: Blackburn kick-off. Or was it Celtic? Oh dear, it's going to be one of those nights.
2 mins: There's a lot of probing early doors, with both teams knocking the ball about in midfield.
3 mins: Valgaeren concedes the first corner of the game after being hoodwinked by one of Duff's mazy dribble's up the left flank. He was lucky not to concede a penalty and both he and Agathe are in for a torrid evening if the Irishman is on form. Celtic clear the corner.
4 mins: Celtic break and Larsson takes on Johansson. Despite being supported by both Guppy and Sutton, he loses the ball.
6 mins: Blackburn almost score when Andy Cole is put through by Curtis. From about six yards he attempts to lift it over Rab Douglas with the outside of his left foot and the 'keeper saves.
8 mins: Hartson chips over the bar. He'd started the build-up himself with a pass that enabled Larsson and Petrov to combine and put him through. His first touch let him down. It wasn't on his head, see.
11 mins: Duff and Yorke string a few nice passes together outside the Blackburn box, but the latter's pass to Cole is poor. Celtic regain possession.
12 mins: Some dithering in the Celtic defence results in Dunn taking possession on the right wing. His cross his headed clear by Balde. Go Bobo!
13 mins: Blackburn win a corner. It's played short to Duff, who makes room for himself and shoots from the left-corner of the Blackburn penalty area. His effort is feeble.
14 mins GOAL!!! Blackburn 0 - 1 Celtic Terrible defending by Blackburn Rovers. Short and Johansson were nowhere to be seen as Sutton slipped a through ball to Hartson. The portly Welshman and his marker both slipped and the ball came to the lurking Larsson, who was completely unmarked. Friedel came charging out of his goal and the Swede lifted it over him beautifully and left it nestling in the back of the net.
18 mins: While I was typing all that, Larsson had another shot, this time from distance. It was a bit wild, and didn't trouble Brad Friedel.
20 mins: Blackburn win a free outside the Celtic box. Thompson sends it screaming in, and while it looked as if Rab Douglas tipped it over the bar, the referee awards a goal-kick to Celtic. Blackburn need to score three goals to win this tie now.
22 mins: Celtic don't look as if they're going to sit back and let Blackburn bring the game to them. Their three-pronged Larsson-Hartson-Sutton attack is wreaking absolute havoc amongst the hapless Blackburn defenders. Tugay's the only one of them who's any good, and he's not able for Sutton at all.
24 mins: Blackburn are doing their best, but it's like Celtic Park revisited here. They're about as potent in the final third as Johnny Impotent, winner of the Most Flacid Member Award at last year's Gillingham Impotence Festival. Not that I was there. Obviously. I only have to walk into a room and ladies get pregnant.
28 mins: Valgaeren crosses one in for Celtic from the left and it's cleared. This match is a bit odd: although there's lots going on, it's mostly just fancy-dannery in the middle of the field. Neither side is managing to carve out a scoring opportunity. Unlike Derek Boyd who, Ciaran Duffy has asked me to mention, pulled twice in one night recently. Go Boydo!
33 mins: Graeme Souness must be tearing his hair out here. Having bossed Celtic around the Highlands of Scotland two weeks ago, Blackburn came away with their tails between their legs having lost 1-0. Now he's getting a lesson in management from Martin O'Neill, who has ensured that the Duff-Cole-Yorke axis Souness very publicly announced he'd be depending on, isn't getting a sniff of the ball.
36 mins: Lucas Neill latches on to a Celtic clearance outside the box and tries a shot. It stings the palms of Rab Douglas in the Celtic goal.
38 min: Petrov strikes a free-kick from outside the box. It's low, hard and left of the post. "Is Graeme Souness wearing any adornment atop the head?" enquires minute-by-minute regular and unspeakable loon, Rolf from Sweden. "If so, I hope it is of a particularly unyielding and unsavoury fabric, as I am looking forward to him eating it because of his comments about Celtic after the first game."
40 mins: Rab Douglas punches clear after David Dunn attempts to nod one home. It's nae bother, as they say in his neck of the woods.
42 mins: Thompson and Dunn attempt a one-two in the Celtic box. It goes completely pear-shaped and Laursen hoofs it clear.
43 mins: It's not even half-time and Blackburn are already reduced to trying pot-shots from outside the box. It's looked like their only chance of scoring so far. This time it's David Thompson's turn to send a piledriver screaming over the bar. The Celtic fans assembled behind the goal are loving this.
45 +1 Tugay is hacked down and wins a free. Before it can be taken, the referee blows for half-time. Just as it was in the first leg, the stats show that Blackburn have had more possession and more shots on goal. Just as it was in the first leg, they're losing.
Half-time
46 mins: The second-half gets underway. Graeme Souness has pulled off Curtis (not literally, I hope) and replaced him with Keith Gillespie. As you probably know, Blackburn need three goals to go through to the third round of the Uefa Cup. If the first half was anything to go by, they could play all night and not score one. Tony Mole has mailed in to tell me that my commentary is much better without the bold on. Sorry about that. You'd think that, being a Mole, Tony would prefer it dark. That was incredibly lame, wasn't it. Meanwhile, another Tony writes. "Re: claims regarding your lively sperm (24 mins), are you the jug eared ginge in the recent popular film: The most fertile man in Ireland?" enquires Tony O'Brien. That isn't me Tony. I've been accused of many things in life, but never of being an excessively virile, jug-eared ginge.
47 mins: Comedy football! Larsson pulls one back from the left-hand side of the Blackburn box, Sutton scuffs his attempt at goal in the general direction of John Hartson, who is so surprised to get the ball that he knocks it harmlessly right and wide. Scoring would have been easier.
50 mins: Johansson conedes a free just inside the Blackburn half. Lennon finds Larsson, who sends in a cross. It's beyond Sutton and Hartson. Blackburn break and Sutton steals the ball from Tugay with a wonderful tackle.
53 mins: My computer is starting to act up. There's been chances for both teams in the last couple of minutes. Guppy whipped in a corner for Celtic, which Sutton headed into the side-netting. Moments previously, a misunderstanding between Yorke and Cole resulted in David Dunn getting a long-range snap-shot on goal. It fizzed narrowly wide.
55 mins: A close shave for Celtic. Andy Cole snapped up a brilliantly weighted pass from Tugay and lifted it over the on-rushing Douglas. A defender hacked it off the line, and any controversy over whether it had crossed or not was rendered redundant by the linesman frantically flagging for offside.
62 mins: Things you have missed while I waited seven minutes for my computer to save that bit: (1) Keith Gillespie shooting over the bar when he should have crossed, (2) Steve Guppy bringing a smart save out of Brad Freiedel with a misplaced cross (3) Keith Gillespie shooting low, hard and fruitlessly, (4) BBC commentator John Motson saying "Celtic are right down Blackburn's throats." Comment is superfluous.
67 mins: GOAL!!! Blackburn 0 - 2 Celtic As straightforward as they get. From a corner, Chris Sutton steals a yard on Lucas Neill and flicks home a glancing header from the near post. A simple goal, but a great goal. Blackburn are living on borrowed time now.
68 mins: Celtic substitution: Lambert on for Hartson. Blackburn substitution: Jansen on for Yorke.
70 mins: Blackburn win a corner. It's floated in, Short gets his head to it, but Douglas puts it out for another corner. From this, Blackburn win a throw-in. Celtic clear.
73 mins: Blackburn are pitiful. they have no answers for Celtic at all and are completely bereft of ideas. Their forwards aren't getting a touch and Celtic are first to every loose ball. They're obviously destined to remain best known for - regional stereotype ahoy! - black puddings for a while longer.
76 mins: Bugger! Celtic bring on Thompson for Petrov, who has played superbly. There's two Thompsons on the field now, although you wouldn't know it the way David "Blackburn" Thompson is playing. Speaking of disappearing acts, have Damien Duff and Andy Cole been substituted or are they still actually on the field?
78 mins: The Blackburn supporters are leaving Ewood Park in their droves. That's rather fickle of them. Who's to say their team won't nab four quick goals in the last 11 minutes? Gillespie attempts to cross from the right, and his effort is nothing short of pathetic. The way they're embarrassing themselves this evening, this shower wouldn't score in a brothel with a blank cheque.
81 mins: Celtic substitution: Momo Sylla for Didier Agathe. Another quality missive from Tony Mole: "Yes, your gaga was very lame," he says. "Most people ask me if I have a brother called Adrian. Funnily enough, I do." Magnificent.
84 mins: David Dunn shoots from the 18-yard line. Predictably enough, he blasts it over the bar.
86 mins: There's very little left to say about this. Blackburn's players look like puppies that are being repeatedly kicked, while Celtic are just showboating at this stage. Lucas Neill compounds a miserable evening for himself by getting booked for a late tackle. Don't expect to see Graeme Souness planting any flags in the centre-circle at full-time tonight.
89 mins: David Thompson turns brilliantly and knocks one across the face of Celtic's goal. Rab Douglas saves well from an on-rushing blur of blue and white.
90 mins: "Do you think Souness is regretting shooting his big mouth off after the first leg?" enquires Mark McFerran. "This was a solid professional job by Celtic over two legs - something Souness knows little about in Europe." The ref blows the final whistle and puts Blackburn out of their misery. Make no mistake, they have been well and truly thumped tonight. Having put in as complete a performance as you're ever likely to see from a team playing away from home in Europe, Celtic saunter into the third round of the Uefa Cup.

Blackburn: Friedel, Curtis, Short, Johansson, Neill, Thompson, Tugay, Dunn, Duff, Yorke, Cole.
Subs: Todd, Jansen, Grabbi, Gillespie, Ostenstad, Douglas, Kelly.
Celtic: Douglas, Valgaeren, Balde, Laursen, Agathe, Lennon, Petrov, Sutton, Guppy, Larsson, Hartson.
Subs: Sylla, Thompson, Fernandez, Lambert, Maloney, Crainey, Gould.
Referee: C Bolognino (Milan)

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[therock67]

Celtic 1 - 1 Liverpool

Larsson 2 | Heskey 16

Barry Glendenning
Thursday March 13, 2003
Preamble: Welcome one and all, to what will hopefully be a humdinger, but is far more likely to be football's answer to narcolepsy, considering Liverpool are playing away from home in the first leg of a Uefa Cup tie. Still ... we can always dream. Some bloke who looks like Les Battersby from Coronation Street leads the crowd in a rousing rensition of You'll Never Walk Alone, from the musical Carousel, in which your humble minute-by-minute reporter once played the role of Policeman #1. It was a lamentably poor school production in 1990 and I still remember my opening line: "Evening Mr Bascombe!" Anyway, enough about my sordid thespian past. The teams emerge from the tunnel, line up, shake hands etc. etc.

For Celtic, Henrik Larsson is back five weeks after breaking his jaw. Paul Lambert makes way. Emile Heskey is the only addition to the Liverpool team that beat Bolton 2-0 recently, with Vladimir Smicer dropping to the bench.
1 min: Celtic kick off playing from left to right and within 12 seconds Alan Thompson lobs a long ball into the box which Chris Sutton nods down to Hartson. He turns and unleashes a shot that clips the crossbar. A great start for the Scottish champions.
2 mins: Celtic 1 - 0 Liverpool Narcolepsy eh? Shows what I know. Henrik Larsson rockets one home just 100 seconds into his return from injury. Abject defending from Liverpool allowed Hartson to float the ball across the box from right to left, Alan Thompson smashed it back from whence it came and while Liverpool's defenders were trying to figure out what the hell was going on, Larsson jinked between them to slam it home from close range.
4 mins: Hartson ghosts past Hyypia (a difficult concept to grasp, I know) as if he wasn't there and shoots from just outside the D. The ball fizzes over the crossbar. Great effort.
6 mins: Liverpool get a touch of the ball and win a free-kick down near the corner. Riise floats it into the Celtic box and Rab Douglas claims it comfortably.
8 mins: Celtic attack again, winning a series of throw-ins deep in Liverpool's half. Liverpool get the ball back and Gerrard hoofs it down the right wing to Danny Murphy.
10 mins: With the ball at his feet and his back to goal, Owen attempts to turn in the Celtic box. Bobo Balde dispossesses him with all the ease of a bailiff's goons armed with machetes and baseball bats.
11 mins: Murphy attempts to dribble his way through the Celtic defence. Jamie Smith puts a stop to his gallop. Celtic's defence is looking solid so far. Compared to Liverpool's, it's a fortress hewn from reinforced granite. Celtic attack again and Larsson and Hartson combine to send a visible shiver through the Liverpool back-line once again. Larsson miscontrols and gifts the ball to Riise.
12 mins: Owen hares down the left wing, cuts inside and finds Murphy. He sends the ball out to Carragher on the right wing, who in turn cuts in. Owen steps over his low pass and leaves it to Murphy to shoot. His effort is poor.
16 mins: Celtic 1 - 1 Liverpool Riise picks up the ball on the left wing, cuts inside, sails past Valgaeren and puts a lovely weighted pass through Smith's legs into the path of Heskey in the box. From a very tight angle, the big man does brilliantly to avoid the onrushing Douglas, shoot across the face of goal and find the bottom right hand corner.
20 mins: Jamie Smith atones for his error by cutting out the final pass in an excellent Liverpool move that took them the length of the field. But for his interception, the ball would have found its way to Diouf, unmarked on the edge of the six yard box.
22 mins: It seems that Alan Thompson is injured. Steve Guppy is warming up. Sutton attempts to thread a ball through the Liverpool defence into the path of Hartson, but Hyypia intercepts.
24 mins: Alan Thompson goes off, Steve Guppy comes on. It's all go here at Celtic Park.
26 mins: Liverpool win a corner-kick, which finds it way to Hamann in space. Owen screams for a pass, but Hamann doesn't hear him. Why not? Because in space, no-one can hear you scream. (Cymbal crash!). After a brief bout of pinball in the box, Celtic clear.
29 mins: My thanks to the many thousands (well, six) of you who wrote in to tell me that the Les Battersby doppelganger who led the crowd in a rendition of You'll Never Walk Alone was in fact Southampton's Chris Marsden. Or should that be Gerry "Gerry & The Pacemakers" Marsden? At long last, a bit of a lull.
32 mins: Liverpool are gradually beginning to assert their authority. Gerrard hoists a long ball into the Celtic penalty area and Bobo Balde clears with a 40-yard header. Quality.
33 mins: Same again, except with Valgaeren's head on a long throw.
34 mins: A Guppy cross from the left is chested down to the onrushing Petrov by Hartson. Unfortunately, the generously rumped Welshman was offside. Petrov gnashes his teeth in frustration.
36 mins: More lull. "I have spent all day today basking in the Peruvian heat and looking forward to listening to the game tonight live on the BBC Radio Scotland website," writes David Shanks. "My hopes have, however, been dashed. Please make up for this with some inspirational text commentary, unlike your efforts last night." Careful now Mr Shanks - I don't come around to where you work and tell you how to clean toilets."
37 mins: Balde just avoids getting caught in possession by Owen deep in the Celtic half. His facial expression suggests he was in control of the situation at all times, although I'll bet that inwardly he nearly cacked himself. It's just occurred to me that if Mr Shanks teamed up with Mr Armitage, he'd be able to manufacture toilets insteado f clean them. It's well known that Armitage was the brains of that particular operation. He invented the u-bend.
42 mins: "Is there any specific reason why you're not providing an in-depth description of Heskey's equaliser, other than that you seem to have it in for the Reds to the point of completely un-balanced reporting?" enquires the not-at-all-paranoid Ant. "It was a cracking piece of skill by Riise followed by an absolute thunderbolt finish from Heskey." Eh, that's pretty much how I described it (16 mins) except it wasn't a thunderbolt. Incidentally, what sort of person reads an Internet minute-by-minute report and watches the match on television? Unless of course you're at the match, all wrapped up in your anorak and peering at your lap-top through your thick coke-bottle spectacles.
Half-time
Half-time boot-kicking: "The last time I wrote in, you reported that I had 'shrieked' my comments," moans Paula Willows. "Now, how on earth did you know that I was a shrieker? Very saucy." Hmm ...
My word, I don't believe it - a serious question for once: "What kind of injury has Alan Thompson picked up?" enquires Kelly Young who's in Washington DC. I have no idea Kelly. He wasn't limping particularly, so it might be psychological. Perhaps he's depressed.
And this from Dick Ryan: "While it may be true that in space no one can hear you scream, it is also true that in a large corporate facility, several people can hear you scream. Even if you have your office door closed. And Liverpool score. Also, if you fail to close the blinds, those same people can see you get out of your chair and dance about the room." All I can suggest Dick, is that you team up with Paula Willows. Between your screaming and her shrieking, the last thing anyone outside your office will think you're doing is watching a football match.
Two minutes later: Already the quick-witted among you (the minority, in my experience) are mailing in to say that Paula the shrieker would probably like Dick. Behave yourselves, for the love of God. This is a family website.
Meanwhile, Ant has apologised profusely for his criticism of my non-reportage of Heskey's goal. That's more like it.
48 mins: The second half gets underway and my PC goes on the blink. Celtic are denied two decent shouts for a penalty in the space of five seconds. One for a Riise handball, the other for a push by Traore.
56 mins: Our computer system is inexplicably knackered at the moment, with the result that I can't bring you any commentary for the time being. My sincere, grovelling apologies. Liverpool have controlled the second half so far and Bobo Balde was very lucky not to concede a penalty for handball.
61 mins: Jamie Smith attempts to cross low and hard into the Liverpool box, but it's a poor effort and Riise hoofs it clear.
62 mins: Incisive play from Liverpool. A brilliant pass down the right from Gerrard to Diouf. The Senegal international whips a cross into the near post and Heskey slides in, beats the onrushing Douglas to the ball but toe-pokes the ball wide. He'd have needed a telescopic leg to hook that one home.
63 mins: Petrov lofts one into Hartson on the edge of the Liverpool six-yard box. Lumbering alongside the big Welshman and facing his own goal, Djimi Traore extends a leg and brilliantly hooks the ball clear over his own head with an athletic defensive bicycle kick. He's playing his best game ever in a Liverpool shirt, although admittedly it wouldn't be hard for him to improve on recent performances.
64 mins: My thanks to all of you who are mailing in to complain and/or tell me my report isn't being updated. Just to make sure I get those particular mails, put "Stating the obvious" or "Telling you things you already know" in the subject bar. Having said that (in a somewhat chippy fashion) there 's really no point in my telling you what to do with your emails as you can't read my instructions. And even if you could, you still never do what you're told!
71 mins: Celtic go up the right courtest of Mjallby. Petrov, Lennon and Guppy faff around a bit in midfield. I think the technical term for such activity is "probing".
73 mins: Diouf tries to pick out Owen in the box, but Balde intercepts and clears. Celtic are looking a bit ragged and are being completely over-run in midfield.
74 mins: Emile Heskey crosses beautifully to Owen in the Celtic box. His first touch is good, but he blasts his shot at the near post and Douglas puts it out for a corner. To Owen's disgust and Douglas's pleasant surprise, the referee awards a goal-kick.
77 mins: Valgaeren hoists a staggeringly long throw into the Liverpool penalty area. Traore heads it clear.
78 mins: Gerrard hits a long ball into space down the left wing, but Balde beats Diouf to it and wellies it clear.
79 mins: Steve Guppy gets a yellow card for tripping John Arne Riise a milli-second after the Liverpool player had skinned him on the left wing. It's just occurred to me that I forgot to tell you that Henrik Larsson has been substituted and replaced by Paul Lambert. Not that it matters particularly, as our system is still down and I'm currently typing all this for my own amusement! Again, my apologies.
83 mins: I've been informed that some of the finest minds in IT are currently working furiously to get our system back. (That's people who know what they're doing, as opposed to the war hammer-playing, Monster Munch eating, pasty-faced geeks you'd normally associate with such activities.) For Liverpool, somebody Danny Murphy blasts a free-kick into the Celtic wall. This is all going very pear-shaped, very quickly.
87 mins: Absolutely vile. In an attempt to keep the ball in play, El Hadji Diouf trips over an advertisement hoarding and joins a section of the crowd. Needless to say, several Celtic fans help him up by patting him patronisingly on the head and braying at his misfortune. After extricating himself, Diouf spits a lovely big mouthful of gob into the crowd. Revolting. Somebody's mother has to clean that up, El Hadji!
90 mins: After three minutes of incessant booing, Diouf gets substituted and ushered straight down the tunnel. He's going to be in big trouble for that gobbing incident.
91 mins: The referee blows for full-time putting a stop to what was a right good game, the last 10 minutes notwithstanding. It petered out towards the end, which is more than can be said for my match report, which petered out after 37 minutes. Again, I can't apologise enough for the gremlins which ruined it. That, as they say, is football. It's level pegging at half-time in this quarter-final, but Liverpool take an away goal back to Anfield.
Celtic: Douglas, Mjallby, Balde, Valgaeren, Smith, Lennon, Petrov, Sutton, Thompson, Larsson, Hartson.
Subs: Marshall, Sylla, McNamara, Lambert, Maloney, Guppy, Crainey.
Liverpool: Dudek, Carragher, Hyypia, Traore, Riise, Murphy, Gerrard, Hamann, Diouf, Owen, Heskey.
Subs: Arphexad, Baros, Smicer, Diao, Biscan, Cheyrou, Mellor.
Referee: Terje Hauge (Norway)
Kick-off: 8.05pm

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[therock67]

Liverpool 0 - 2 Celtic (agg: 1-3)

Thompson 45, Hartson 82

Scott Murray
Thursday March 20, 2003


Dr. Konstantin Frank Cabernet Sauvignon 2000 is a glorious medieval looking purple-red with aromas and flavours of plums and cassis, cinnamon and pipe tobacco. It's young but highly drinkable. $23.
Buy now!

Kick off: 8.05pm.
Time I hope to arrive home and immediately start swilling a large glass of red wine not totally dissimilar to the one on the right: 10.45pm.
The teams
Liverpool: Dudek, Carragher, Traore, Hyypia, Riise, Murphy, Hamann, Gerrard, Smicer, Heskey, Owen.
Subs: Arphexad, Baros, Berger, Diao, Biscan, Cheyrou, Mellor.
Celtic: Douglas, Mjallby, Balde, Valgaeren, Sylla, Lennon, Lambert, Petrov, Thompson, Larsson, Hartson.
Subs: Marshall, McNamara, Laursen, Maloney, Guppy, Smith, Crainey.
Article continues


Referee: Markus Merk (Germany)
Preamble
There's to be no El Hadji Diouf for Liverpool, of course, so their fans must suffer the antics of the stunningly ineffectual Vladimir Smicer instead. Meanwhile for Celtic: Chris Sutton broke his wrist in the CIS Cup final defeat at the hands of Rangers, so Stilian Petrov takes his shirt. And Momo Sylla replaces Jamie Smith.
Meanwhile. "I was at a wine fair this week just down the road at Tain Hermitage," writes Alan Kane. "If I had known your weakness for the red stuff I would have had a glass or two for you." It's never too late to toast the health of a minute-by-minute football reporter, Alan, so why not crack open that 1976 Haut-Médoc you've been saving for a special occasion and see if you can polish it off by the end of the first half?
Rendition of You'll Never Walk Alone
When they turn the volume of the PA down and let the crowd do the work, well.
1 min: And we're off. Celtic are kicking towards the Kop in the first half. Liverpool can't get the ball. "Are you all alcohol mad?" asks a not-particularly-perceptive Michael Durkan. "Barry Glendenning was moaning about beer and its perils last night, now you're telling me to relax and have a glass of wine! Do you guys run a drink counselling service in your spare time?" Drink counselling? Have a look again at the advice I gave Alan Kane in the preamble, Michael.
2 min: Gerrard tries a Hollywood left-to-right pass. It's not very good and sails into touch. Let's keep count.
3 min: Nobody can keep hold of the ball for very long. A good run down the centre of the pitch from Riise; a lovely turn by Hartson which confuses Traore. Hmm ... "confuses Traore" ... let's keep count.
5 min: Larsson bounds down the right and is clearly upended by Hamann, but there's no free-kick. This is going along at a rare old pelt.
7 min: Heskey knocks a header down to the feet of Murphy, who feeds Owen in the box. But the wee fella can't turn quickly enough and Mjallby is on hand to hack the ball away.
8 min: Hamann is really chancing his arm. Now he's clattered into Petrov. No booking though.
10 min: Celtic are seeing plenty of the ball in midfield, but they're not doing anything with it. "Strangely reassuring to see the fill-to-line marking," writes Andrew Stephen. "Living in the US we tend to either get gypped or ripped depending on the mood of the bar-keep." Gypped? Ripped? Bar-keep? Eh? You probably only get shoddy service because the bartender doesn't know what the hell you're talking about, Andrew.
11 min: A lovely curling ball by Murphy finds Smicer down the left. The Czech cuts the ball back across the face of goal, evading Douglas, but there's nobody there to slot home and Mjallby, not for the first time this match, is on hand to smack it out of harm's way.
13 min: The ball falls to Thompson on the left-hand edge of the Liverpool box. His first-time volley sails just over the crossbar. "Why has a phone rather hastily replaced last week's cascading beer cans in the minute-by-minute logo?" asks Aidan Rush. Because we're desperately trying to maintain a veneer of professionalism, Aiden, even though the horse bolted ages ago.
15 min: Now it's Liverpool's turn, with Hamann cracking a half-volley from Thompson territory along the floor and just wide of the left-hand post.
17 min: The second hopeless Hollywood pass of the night by Gerrard clatters off Lennon's legs.
20 min: Celtic win a free-kick about 20 yards out. Larsson takes. It's not much of a smack, but it dips violently and Dudek has to scramble it away for a corner. Almost immediately, the ball's sent back into the Liverpool box and Hartson is inches away from heading into the top-right corner of the net.
22 min: Eh, Steven Gerrard, I'm too hard on you. A clearance from Hartson is met on the volley by the Liverpool midfielder 25 yards out with the outside of his right foot. It's flying into the left-hand corner but Douglas does brilliantly to tip the ball round for a corner. Which, Liverpool being Liverpool, is wasted.
25 min: Owen breaks free down the left and cuts the ball back where Heskey and Smicer await, two yards from goal in acres of space. Heskey and Smicer. I don't really need to tell you what happens, do I? "In defence of US barkeeps," writes Atlanta resident Simon Barlow, "they're fairly free with spirits. There's no evidence of those measly little silver measuring cups when you ask for a tequila shot, just a hefty pour straight from the bottle." Slainthe!
27 min: Headers at either end, as Heskey sends the ball straight at Douglas from four yards, before Hartson nuts the ball wide left of Dudek's goal from an equally risible distance. "Multepulciano!" exclaims Garrett Holt. "I don't know if the spelling is right, but it's a damn good grape from Italy."
29 min: A deep cross from Larsson nearly causes panic in the Liverpool box but Hyypia does just enough to muscle Sylla away from the ball. "While on the topic of the logo," notes Paul McDevitt, "is the smoke meant to be a simultaneous play-by-play of the bombing of Baghdad or simply that you clip your roach onto the side of the keyboard?"
31 min: Sylla is booked for a nothing challenge on Riise. I've also just been informed that Mjallby was earlier booked for something that happened at some point. Apologies to you all; you deserve better treatment than this.
35 min: At last, a lull, a lovely lull. "Did someone say red whine? Must be some Gooners with us this evening!" quips Tris Bray. Tris, have you ever been either: (a) a scriptwriter for Bobby Davro, or; (b) bottled off stage in a comedy club?
37 min: Sylla confuses Traore (two) in the centre of the park and lets rip from 30 yards. Dudek dives low to tip the ball round the post. Great football. From the corner, Hartson belabours the ball against Carragher. There's another corner, but nothing more to say.
40 min: Liverpool can't get hold of the ball. The crowd are very quiet. Meanwhile, it's time for the traditional you-have-the-same-name-as-the-Scotland-lock-and-a-Bristol-City-midfielder email of the day. "I am sure it's not the first time you've been told this," writes Evan Colbert, "but you should be getting some rest before the big game on Saturday. Is the Scottish RFU that badly off they have to send you down to London to make some extra money?" Will I ever be free of this?
43 min: The half is petering out. "I love the way the glass of wine continues to move up the page," writes Paul McDevitt, drooling over his keyboard. "It's really tempting. Should have that on the AA website as a test of people's newly-found resilience to booze. Me, I'm on my way to the drinks cupboard." Pour a large one for me, will you?
45 min: GOAL Liverpool 0 - 1 Celtic. A confused Traore (three) needlessly fouls Larsson. Thompson takes the free-kick - 30 yards out, just to the right - and sends in a daisy-cutter which goes under the wall (they jump out of the way) and into the net. What a terrible goal to give away, but Celtic deserve it.
Half-time: Liverpool 0 - 1 Celtic. OK, now it's Liverpool who need to score. An equaliser from them and it'll be extra time (and no booze for me at 10.45pm). "I work in the same office as Andrew Stephen," writes Philly Mac. "Looking at the state of him most mornings, I'd say he gets ripped more often than he gets gypped by said bar-keep."
46 min: Right, we're off again, and I've reinstated the beer cans in the logo, because Simon Gonzalez pointed out that "in the interest of accuracy and/or symbolism, the phone should stay for the first half and then be replaced by the beer cans in the second half. The phone, or course, would symbolise the need to call the IT guys after the inevitable computer crash. The beer cans would symbolise the frustrated minute-by-minute reporter's response when they can't do anything about it."
48 min: A lethargic start to the second half from Liverpool, who need to get their act together and quickly if they want to stay in this tie. Larsson gets in between Carragher and Dudek and nearly loops the ball over the keeper's head and into the net. The ball bounces harmlessly wide, though. Dudek looks incandescent with rage.
50 min: Celtic have already taken the sting out of the Liverpool "charge", such as it was. The crowd, who were whooping and hollering at the restart, are now very quiet indeed. "This is the first time in my life that I may be able to add to the knowledge of a Guardian journalist," writes Alan Kane, who I fear would be very disappointed were he to ever actually meet and talk to one. "We in the Rhone valley would never drink Medoc wine as we have our own wines which your wine expert would refer to as 'well-kept secrets'. Try some Cote Rotie."
52 min: Owen threads a ball through the Celtic back four to the feet of Gerrard, who races into the box. But Douglas comes out to smother brilliantly, and the loose ball is slammed away by Balde. "The good news is that it is Friday in New Zealand," writes Ian Long, "therefore Friday night drinks are near. And the best Pinot's in the world!"
55 min: Smicer finds space down the right but suddenly stops running a la Devon Loch. He stands around for a while looking as confused as a Traore before passing it into touch.
56 min: Smicer off, Baros on.
57 min: With Owen lurking in the six-yard box, Valgaeren heads out for a corner. Riise's corner is far too strong, though, and sails over everyone in the box. Within the minute, Gerrard is trying a Hollywood strike from 30-odd yards. Row Z.
60 min: Hartson is starting to put himself about, and he's causing Traore a lot of heartache. The Liverpool centre-half confuses himself for the fourth and fifth time, conceding a needless corner that is eventually cleared. "You might like wine drinking here in Atlanta," writes Simon Barlow, who, as we'll see, is not wrong. "There are a lot of very nice restaurants and bars over here and most of them serve wine in huge goblet-type affairs rather than the regular ISO-sized thing you get in the UK. you only get about three to four glasses to the bottle. Cocktails are also pretty highly leaded, not the stingy things you get in theme bars and restaurants in the UK." How easy is it to get a work permit, Simon?
63 min: Heskey falls over. Not sure why that's worthy of a mention.
64 min: Baros grabs half-a-yard in the Celtic box but the ball clatters between his legs and he can't quite get a shot in. Then Lambert has a crack down the other end from 25 yards, but he can't keep the shot from sailing high into the away supporters.
66 min: Oh Emile! He nutmegs Valgaeren by miscontrolling the ball and then, with the goal gaping and acres of space in front of him, shanks it miles into the air and yards wide of the goal. Truly terrible. "Sounds like you're one of those amusing chocoholics - but with booze!" chrips Dan Bear. "I myself have been inspired by your words and have been stuck into the wine since kick-off. Trouble is, it's 7.25am here in Brisbane, so it could be a long day. Right, I'm off to work - wish me luck!"
68 min: Thompson is booked for clattering into Heskey, who falls over (two).
69 min: Baros bustles down the right and cuts the ball back but there's nobody in the area to convert the chance for Liverpool. Twenty minutes to save their European season ... where's the support?
70 min: Apologies for the slow updates: our servers are straining under the weight of the war, so bear with us with the updates.
71 min: Douglas is booked for time-wasting.
73 min: Lambert off, McNamara on. Celtic win a corner, and then another. Dudek has to fingertip the ball over the bar after it spoons off the shoulder of Larsson and over the keeper's head. Liverpool aren't going to do this, you know.
75 min: As if to prove it, Gerrard and Heskey combine to give the ball away in the middle of the park with no Celtic player within ten yards of them.
77 min: The Kop harangue Heskey who tries to feed a delicate ball through to Owen in the box. And fair enough, because he's welted it into the crowd with his shin. Dear me.
79 min: Balde, Baros, ball, candy, baby.
81 min: Hollywood Ball IV from Gerrard catches Owen miles offside. Celtic are in total control here.
82 min: GOAL Liverpool 0 - 2 Celtic. Hartson exchanges a one-two with Larsson, drops a shoulder to beat Hamann and lets fly from 25 yards. The ball moves from left to right and settles in the top-right corner of Dudek's net. Celtic deserve no less, Liverpool deserve no more. Liverpool need three goals in eight minutes. Will it happen? Put it this way: they've got Heskey up front.
84 min: Balde, Baros, ball, candy, baby.
86 min: Baros has a dig from outside the box, but the ball doesn't dip quickly enough and sails over the bar.
87 min: Sylla off, Smith on.
88 min: Murphy tries to play the ball forward to Heskey, but it doesn't reach the lumbering striker, which is probably best for everybody concerned.
89 min: "Gone to the bog? Missus on the blower?" asks Brian Parkin, one of many readers who have spotted our system has gone down. Many, many apologies.
90 min: There will be two minutes of stoppage time, but let's face it, it was all over a long, long time ago.
Full-time: Liverpool 0 - 2 Celtic. Well, Celtic were superb and are deserving winners. But this Liverpool side needs ripping up, given that (a) they're tedious to watch, (b) they're not very good, and (c) Emile Heskey. Thanks for your emails, and please accept my apologies for our system dying midway through the second half. It lasted a damn sight longer than Liverpool, I can tell you that for nothing.
Email: [e-mail]

[therock67]

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Celtic 1 - 1 Boavista

Larsson 49 | Valgaeren og 48

Barry Glendenning
Thursday April 10, 2003
1 min: After a raucous rendition of the Fields Of Athenry over the tannoy, the teams emerge from the tunnel. Celtic are in their traidtional green and white hoops, while Boavista sport a yellow kit. (Anunciacao wears No96, for some reason). Celtic go into their pre-match huddle: "Come on chaps! Let's smite our swarthy visitors, eh?" and kick off playing from right to left in Celtic Park. Unless you're looking from the other side, in which case it's left to right.
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2 mins: Hartson wins the first free kick of the match for backing into Avalos. It's about 10 yards outside the Boavista box, slightly to the left. Larsson shoots straight into the wall.
3 mins: Hartson wins another free after an aeriel collision involving himself, Anunciacao and Avalos. The No96 goes off to get treatment on a cut under his eye. Given how difficult it is to type his name, I'm hoping he doesn't come back.
4 mins: Mjallby concedes a throw-in just down by the corner flag. Boavista take a long throw-in to the Celtic box, which Lennon heads clear. Mjallby's hair is looking great, if anyone's interested. Shiny, blonde and swept back in it's usual Thor God Of Aloe Vera fashion.
7 mins: The first good chance of the game goes begging. Hartson chested down a long ball and threaded a neat pass into the box for Larsson. Ricardo sprinted out of the Boavista goal, but the Swede was unable to lift it over him as he and the ball were both running away from the goal and the angle was just too narrow.
8 mins: Anunciacao (yes, he's back) slips under pressure in the box and handles the ball. The stadium erupts with a penalty appeal. The ref judges it to have been accidental.
9 mins: "'E-mail Barry with your comments and offers,' it says up there. Exactly what sort of offers are you expecting?" enquires William de Quetteville. I dunno Will, I didn't write it. But seeing as you ask - money, sex, stuff made from ermine, a nice cup of tea, precious things ... I'm not that fussy. Celtic Park appeals for another penalty (handball again). This one is slightly less convincing. Claudio has a pop from distance for Boavista but slices the ball horribly wide. If he'd curled it the other way it would have been the greatest goal of all time.
15 mins: The match is still being played at a fair old pelt and hasn't really settled down. Celtic are definitely having the better of the early exchanges, although if Iraqi information minister Mohammed Al-Sahaf was doing this commentary, he'd probably tell you that Boavista were hammering the Scottish infidels 16-0, with an even bigger hiding to come in the second leg. Boavista win a corner after Duda takes the ball wide of Agathe, shoots and brings a smartish save out of Douglas.
18 mins: As Boavista play their offside trap, Eder slips. Nevertheless, he'd moved far enough to ensure that John Hartson was flagged as he tried to latch on to a Larsson through ball.
20 mins: Petrov shoots low and hard from about 15 feet outside the Boavista box. Wide as a ditch.
21 mins: Celtic win a corner through Didier Agathe. It's swung in to the far post but is a fraction too high for John Hartson to nod down. Celtic win a free-kick for handball on the left wing, parallel with the penalty spot (if you know what I mean). One poor Alan Thompson cross later and Ricardo gathers comfortably.
24 mins: Anunciacao shoots. His long range attempt goes wide. Not a bad effort all the same.
25 mins: The Celtic fans strike up a chorus of "Walking In A Celtic Wonderland", one verse of which (as I recall from a Glaswegian pal of mine murdering it on a regular basis while drunk) goes: "There's only one Bobby Petta/ He was sh*te, now he's better/ We brought him to mass and now he's got class/Walking in a Celtic wonderland." It's true what they say, the Lord does move in mysterious ways. Larsson attempts a low cross/shot from a narrow angle but his effort is deflected into Ricardo's arms.
29 mins: Boavista win a free-kick just inside the Celtic half. In the time it takes me to type that sentence, Celtic have cleared through Mjallby and Agathe tries to get on the end of a Mjallby hoof. Ricardo beats him to the ball. Valgaeren goes off to get a cut hand bandaged. Which begs the question: How the devil do you cut your hand playing football?
32 mins: Celtic are bossing the game with most of the possession and attacking, but they haven't looked like scoring yet. Boavista's devious scheme to close them down and mark with all the tightness of a rubber gimp costume is working well.
35 mins: Moor poor Celtic crossing, leaving John Hartson frustrated in the Boavista box. Ricardo, on the other hand, is delighted. He'll be able to catch those all night, although he has flapped at a couple so far.
37 mins: Celtic win a free-kick at least 35 yards out, straight in front of the Boavista goal. Thompson kicks it straight into the wall. A waste.
41 mins: Boavista go on a rare sortie into Celtic's half but concede a free. While the match hasn't been as excruciating as most, say, Liverpool games I've seen this season, it certainly ain't pretty. Speaking of which: "How long before Big Emile's hapless ball control get's a mention? It's always been the highlight of your commentaries and it seems a shame to leave him out at this stage of the competition," enquires Ian Edgar, who appears to have forgotten that Big Emile plays for Liverpool, who were eliminated in the last round. If it's gratuitous snipes at Mr Em's lack of finesse you're after, Ian, you've come to the wrong place.
43 mins: Celtic win a free-kick on the right wing which Alan Thompson plays into the near post. After a spot of head-tennis, somebody - I think Mjallby - loops a header over the bar and on to the netting. "Just want to complement you on your accurate and totally unbiased account of Scumchester Utd taking their fully deserved whipping the other night," writes Niall Mulligan, who I'm guessing isn't a season ticket holder at Old Trafford. That's certainly nicer than the mail I got accusing me of being a "Scouse bin-licker." And that was some of the more positive feedback I received.
Another nice polite e-mail to see us through half-time: Baz, you have a slight typo in the preamble. In the first paragraph, the letter 'e' is missing from the word 'welcome'. Willy." Tnhks Wlly. I thnik you'll ifnd thres prbabyl laods of typsos in this rport. However, at the risk of sounding pedantic, I'd have to argue that there's no such thing as a 'slight typo'. It's either a typo or it isn't. "Barry, the minute-by-minute match logo is so boring. What happened to the beer cans? I think a new logo should show someone banging their head against the screen after the obligatory system crash," writes Tracy Mohr. I'm sorry Tracy, but it's nowt to do with me. If I had my way the minute-by-minute logo would feature me at home drinking beer and playing G1 Jockey on the PlayStation, while somebody else sweated out of every orifice in their body to get here for 7pm to cover a match they thought started at 8pm.
45 mins: Boavista kick off, attack and Erivan strikes a left-foot effort high over the bar.
46 mins: Hartson does brilliantly to hold off Avalos, chest down a high ball and cross to Bobo Balde at the far post. He heads it back into the box and Anunciacao clears.
48 mins: GOAL!!! Celtic 0 - 1 Boavista A disaster for Celtic. Anunciacao crosses from the right and under pressure from Duda, Valgaeren slices an attempted clearance the ball into his own net at the near post.
49 minutes: GOAL!!! Celtic 1 - 1 Boavista Not such a disaster for Celtic, although I'm not entirely sure what happened. Hold on, here we go: A cross into the Boavista box from Lennon was controlled by Petrov and laid off to Larsson, who buried it past Ricardo from the edge of the six-yard box into the 'keeper's bottom right-hand corner.
52 mins: A spot of handbags after Boavista win a free-out. Balde jumped to contest a high ball with Ricardo and caught the Portuguese goalkeeper with his arm. Hartson got involved, then Anunciacao threw in his two cents. The referee sorts it out and Boavista take their free-kick.
54 mins: Amid all the excitement, William Loughran, typo-spotter extraordinaire, has mailed in again to say that the there's nothing wrong with the expression 'slight typo'. "It's the same difference as making a slight mistake and a big one," he says. Like paying £11 million for Emile Heskey is a big mistake, while paying £400,000 for Djimi Traore is a slight mistake, I suppose. Boavista win a free-kick just outside the Celtic box. Neil Lennon is the guilty man. He gets booked after tracking back to make an imperative tackle on Duda, but catches the striker's heel instead.
57 mins: Duda hobbles off the pitch for treatment, aided by two middle-aged bald men who look eerily similar. Perhaps they're twins. Pedrosa takes the free-kick, shoots it past the wall and forces a good save out of Rab Douglas, who dives low and to his left.
59 mins: The crowd appeal for another penalty after Avalos and Hartson go down in an ungainly heap (let's face it, heaps by their very nature are ungainly, and the presence of John hartson iin one is certainly not going to make it more aesthetically pleasing) in the Boavista box. The referee is having none of it. Avalos has already been booked by the way, having been carded for a foul on Lennon around the time of the two-minute goal festival.
63 mins: Wahey! My computer starts giving me some long overdue gyp. While I was waiting four minutes for it to save those four lines, Larsson shot low and hard from distance, making Ricardo dive low and to his left to prevent a goal. Neil Lennon is taking woeful abuse from the Celtic crowd whenever he gets the ball. I have no idea why. Perhaps it's because he's got a bad does of David Batty Syndrome and keeps passing it backwards.
66 mins: I've been so busy swearing at my PC and slapping the monitor (because that really helps solve technical problems and decaching issues), I forgot to mention that Marteklinho and Turra have both been booked for Boavista. The latter, who is wearing a very elaborate mask to protect a broken nose, will miss the return leg. As we already know, Boavista have a valuable away goal to take back to Portugal with them. However, I feel the need to tell you anyway, because that's what commentator's do.
70 mins: "What is Boavista's home record this season and in Cup games? How big is the stadium? How do their supporters compare? When is the second leg match?" enquires Tony Bryda, who appears to be labouring the illusion that I am either (a) John Motson or (b) a Portuguese Rothmans Yearbook. I'd answer all those questions for you Tony, but I think it'd be better for you if you looked them up yourself. (ie I haven't the foggiest). Hartson shoots from point-blank range and a tight angle. Ricardo parries involuntarily.
74 mins: Celtic win a penalty for handball, after a Thompson free-kick takes a wicked deflection. Larsson places the ball on the spot and takes a few steps back and ...
75 mins: ... Ricardo dives to his right and saves. Larsson holds his head in his hands. (His own head, not Ricardo's.) My apologies for the current excruciating delays in transmission. Unfortunately there's nothing I can do about it. Technical issues.
77 mins: Celtic substitutions: Huggy Bear lookalike (it's uncanny) Momo Sylla replaces Agathe. (pre-penalty) and Fernandez for Petrov. Celtic are really making this tie difficult for themselves. Not only have they conceded an away goal, now they're squandering chances handed to them on a silver platter. That's so unlike Scottish teams in Europe.
79 mins: Cafu, a second-half substitute for Boavista that I wasn't aware of goes off. He's replaced by Bosingwa. "Excuse my ignorance, what exactly is meant by a 'handbag'?"enquires Luis Correia, a Boavista fan in Toronto. It's slang for a feeble attempt at a fight, Luis. Imagine two ladies slapping each other repeatedly with their handbags.
83 mins: Celtic win a free-kick five or six yards outside the Boavista box. For some inexplicable reason, they let Thompson take it again. As per the script, he shoots it straight into the wall.
84 mins: Ricardo fumbles a Sylla cross, which drops at Hartson's feet. Without much backswing (not a criticism, he hasn't time), he threads it through the onrushing goalkeeper's legs but Turra hacks it clear off the line. Good effort from Hartson. Unlucky.
86 mins: Thompson crosses from the left, but Eder intercepts and boots it out for a throw-in.
87 mins: Sylla and Pedrosa go for a 50-50 ball and the Boavista man ends up in a crumpled heap on the ground, holding his knee. He gets stretchered off. Celtic win a corner.
89 mins: The corner is swung in, Ricardo drops it and Bobo Balde is penalised for standing nearby.
91 mins: "Why do you bother calling this stuff 'minute-by-minute' when it isn't?" enquires D. Hatter in the most mealy-mouthed email it's ever been my displeasure to receive. We call this "stuff" a minute-by-minute to give nit-picky goons like you something else to complain about, Mr Hatter (I'm assuming you're an anorak-wearing, bespectacled, greasy-haired bloke). From a corner, John Hartson sends a bullet-header wide of the far post. he should have scored.
Full time The match finishes all square, but Boavista have the advantage as they take an away goal home with them.
Another mail from D Hatter: "That's it, I'm off to the Sporting Life website," he harrumphs, zipping up his anorak and slamming the door with what little strangth he can muster on his way out. Conspiratorial whisper: Now that he's gone, I can tell the rest of you that the sad thing is, he's probably reading this minute-by-minute report in the bedroom he sleeps alone in every single night while simultaneously watching the match on television. I've had grumbles from his type before - you get to recognise them after a while. Anyway, that's all from me tonight. Thanks for your time and your emails, and have a very nice weekend.
Teams
Celtic: Douglas, Mjallby, Balde, Valgaeren, Agathe, Lambert, Lennon, Petrov, Thompson, Larsson, Hartson.
Subs: Marshall, Sylla, McNamara, Fernandez, Maloney, Smith, Crainey.
Boavista: Ricardo, Mario Loja, Paulo Turra, Avalos, Erivan, Eder, Anunciacao, Martelinho, Pedrosa, Duda, Luiz Claudio.
Subs: William, Rui Oscar, Jorge Couto, Bosingwa, Jocivalter, Cafu, Yuri.
Referee: F De Bleeckere (Belgium)

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[therock67]

Uefa Cup: semi-final, second leg
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Boavista 0 - 1 Celtic (agg: 1-2)

Larsson 80

Barry Glendenning
Thursday April 24, 2003


A Mountie, for Paul McDevitt (48 mins)

Preamble
The teams emerge from the tunnel. Boavista are dressed in a sort of black and white check chessboard number, while Celtic have opted for their mustard and green away ensemble. Chris Sutton is on the bench for Celtic, having returned from injury after breaking his wrist in mid-March. Celtic have made it difficult for themselves tonight, what with Joos Valgaeren's own goal and Henrik Larsson's missed penalty in the first leg at Celtic Park. However, Boavista are no great shakes (they've won seven out of 28 league games so far this season) so the Scottish champions should be well capable of beating them out the gate. A scoreless draw will see Boavista through to the final, while a 1-1 draw would result in extra time and possibly penalties. Any other score will produce a winner.
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1 min: Valentin Ivanov from Russia blows his shiny whistle and Boavista kick off playing from right to left. Almost immediately, Alan Thompson gets a knock on the leg. He's okay.
3 mins: The early exchanges suggest that Manchester United v Real Madrid this is not. Both teams are fannying around in midfield, probing like ... eh, something that probes a lot. A probe, perhaps. Very dull so far, but it is early doors.
5 mins: Hartson does his trademark chest-the-ball-down-hold-it-up-and-then-lay-it-off-to-someone on the edge of the box. By the time I've inserted all those hyphens, the ball has been cleared and I've forgotten who he laid it off to.
7 mins: Celtic are having the better of things so far, but judging by the quality of play that's like saying they're the tallest Pygmies in the village.
8 mins: A long ball into the big Boavista box finds its way to Larsson on the edge of the small Boavista box. (Hope that technical terminology isn't too complex for you. Try to keep up.) He wriggles his hips like a superfly pimp at a 70s disco and snakes his way between Messrs Avalos and Silveira, but doesn't get decent contact on the ball. Wide.
10 mins: Mjallby wellies a long ball from the edge of his own box to that of the Boavista box. Hartson leaps to attempt a knock-down but it's too high.
11 mins: Hartson wins a free-kick after a Boavista defender, identity unknown, attempts to rip the shirt off his back. Doesn't the Boavista player realise that that shirt is the only thing standing between the Welshman's enormous gut and an unsuspecting public? It's before the watershed after all, so there could be children watching. The free-kick is taken just inside the Boavista half and floated into the box. Ricardo rushes from his goal and holds it well.
14 mins: "I don't consider myself lazy but do you think the Guardian could make it so this page refreshes automatically for future matches? Okay, maybe I'm lazy," says Emmett Williams in New York City. Yes you are Emmett. You're lazy as sin. You could have refreshed the page 10 times in the time it took you to wrtie that whiney email. Shame on you.
16 mins: There's a couple of minutes of nothingness after Paul Lambert and Elpidio Silva go down in a heap after clattering into each other. After treatment, they both seem okay. Celtic win a free-kick which Thompson wellies into the box. Balde wins the header and nods it down to Petrov, who attempts a shot from the edge of the area. It's blocked down.
18 mins: Luis Pedrosa concedes a free-kick about 40 yards out from the Boavista goal for trying to - there's really no other way of describing this - mount John Hartson. And I don't mean in the taxidermy sense of the word. Thompson's delivery into the box is poor and another free-kick in a good position goes to waste. A goal for either side would really give this match the kick up the backside it's crying out for at the moment.
21 mins: Boavista win a free-kick a similar distance out at the far end. Pedrosa goes for goal and hits the ball ridiculously wide. On BBC, Mark Lawrenson correctly describes his effort as "a bit Hollywood".
22 mins: An ignorant Yank writes: "As an ignorant Yank, I may sound hopelessly naive, but do Celtic actually have any Scotsmen in their side?" enquires Tracey Mohr. Don't worry Tracey, you're not ignorant or naive. Well, at least not compared to the queries of some of our other American correspondents (An example from last night: "Why isn't soccer better than the NFL Draft?"). Anyway, to answer your question: there are two Scotsman on the Celtic team: Rab Douglas (goalkeeper) and Paul Lambert (midfielder). Also Neil Lennon (Northern Ireland) has red hair, which sort of makes him Scottish. John Hartson (Wales), on the other hand, doesn't have any hair, but the stuff that used to grow out of his head was red. That lends him a certain air of Scottishness too. Luis Poedrosa shoots from distance for Boavista. Wide as a ditch. This game is very, very dull.
29 mins: Celtic are definitely having the better of this all over the field, but still don't look like scoring anytime soon. You get the impression that if they could just get one then the floodgates would open. Why don't they just pretend they're playing Dunfermline?
31 mins: Paul Lambert goes off injured and is replaced by Chris Sutton. Meanwhile, a man called Daithi has sent me a very long-winded email voicing his irritation over a misplaced apostrophe (now corrected) on my part. A literary abberation, I know, but I am trying to type at 100mph here. That must be why I love it so much when pedantic spods write in to point out my typographical errors. Get a life man. Go out and meet some girls. And not ones that live inside your computer monitor! This game is excruciating. It's like watching myself play Pro Evolution Soccer II on PlayStation: I win the ball ... I give it away ... I run like an eejit and eventually win it back ... then I give it away again. Incidentally, if there's anyone at Nintendo reading this, I'd appreciate lots of free stuff for that blatant bit of product placement.
38 mins: Chris Sutton appeals for a penalty after being clambered all over in the Boavista box. The referee is having none of it.
40 mins: Erivan goes down like a sack of potatoes under a challenge from Chris Sutton just outside the Boavista box. Free-kick for the Portuguese. Celtic's delivery into the final third is really letting them down tonight.
41 mins: In an effort to alleviate the tedium, Danel Reilly has very kindly sent in this. Apparently it's a picture of a monkey riding a dog at a rodeo. I haven't had time to check it, so I hope that's all he's doing. Otherwise I'll be sacked for disseminating animal porn. Boavista almost score after Martelinho pelts down the right wing and crosses. Pedrosa gets his head to it and brings a smart save out of Rab Douglas.
45 mins: Well, hats off to Daniel Reilly, whose dog/monkey maybe-porn present contrived to freeze my computer for three minutes. Never mind, you missed nothing. This is a dreadful game. Celtic are by far and away the better team and will only have themselves to blame if they don't nick a goal in the second half and proceed to the final. They should be tonking this swarthy continental rabble.
Half-time
Half-time refreshments: "If and only if you need a filler, can any of your readers recommend a decent pizza delivery service in Reading?" enquires Jonathan Hall, the genius responsible for GU Football's Ormondroyd's Football Month.
Half-time pedantry: "'Hartson leaps to attempt a knock-down' Barry, I am very disappointed that you were not more descriptive of Hartson's leap. It is not like you to miss an opportunity like that. Did he leap like a salmon? Like a beached whale? I think we should be told," writes Seamus Darby from Tewksbury Massachusetts. Yerra, I'm tired Seamus. But I'm also intrigued. Are you by any chance the same Seamus Darby who came on as a substitute in the 1982 All Ireland Gaelic Football final and scored the injury-time winning goal that won the Sam Maguire Cup for Offaly, in the process stopping Kerry winning an unprecedented five-in-a-row? If you are, you're a prince amongst men. Even if you're not, rest assured that you'll always be welcome in Offaly with a name like that.
46 mins: Celtic get the second half underway. Or was it Boavista? I could scroll down and check by seeing who got the first half under way, but does anyone really care?
47 mins: Hartson attempts to release Larsson with a header into the box, but it's too close to the goalkeeper and Ricardo gets down to smother it.
48 mins: Celtic's players must have something better to do on the night of the Uefa Cup final, because they're making no huge effort to win this match. "Barry, how come there is no picture today?" enquires Paul McDevitt, in Toronto. Okay Paul, just for you, here's a nice picture of a Mountie. Never let it be said that there's no place for lazy national stereotypes on this site.
51 mins: A through-ball from a Boavista midfielder finds it's way to Valgaeren who beats Santos to the ball just outside the Celtic box. He passes to Thompson who makes a hash of his clearance. Like a wedding where too much drink has been taken and the bride's just found out that the groom's been sleeping with her sister, this is getting very messy.
53 mins: Valgaeren gives the ball away in midfield, wins it back and then gives it away again. Throw another couple of sisters, a drunk uncle and a bridesmaid or two into the scenario above and you'll have some idea of what this match is like. John Hartson is going berserk with his team-mates over the poor quality of delivery he's getting. it's fair to say that he's one beast you don't want to rile.
56 mins: "Barry, your text commentary always amuses me: perhaps we can be friends and share some really good times together. Just let me know," writes a man we will call Joe M, for that is his name. Eh, Joe, it's very kind of you to say that, but I'm afraid I have enough friends. I'll put you on my waiting list and get back to you if any of them die. Now, will somebody PLEASE score a goal.
58 mins: Elpidio Silvo misses the best chance of the match by far. After Rab Douglas had tipped away a cross from the right, he dived and connected with the ball, but his header went wide of Johan Mjallby's leg. A dreadful miss and a big, big let-off for Celtic.
61 mins: Joos Valgaeren gets booked. As is customary in such situations, I have no idea why. After 60 minutes, Celtic have had one shot on goal. One! And you can take it from me, Boavista are no Real Madrid.
63 mins: Kerryman Philip Healey writes, while I hang my head in shame at a shocking error (now corrected) in my half-time pedantry section: "The Sam McCarthy Cup? What about the Jules Ryan Cup or the prestigious Charity Badge? I suppose being from Offaly you wouldn't have much contact with the ole Sam Maguire, so don't worry about it."
What can I tell ya Philip - it was a typographical error.! It is, of course, the Sam Maguire Cup. Now come on Celtic - let's see if you can't win this semi-final and book your berth in the 2003 Worthington Cup final.
67 mins: Petrov pelts down the right flank and attempts a cross. There's nobody in a Celtic shirt anywhere near him. Hopeless. Luiz Claudio comes on for Boavista, replacing Elpidio Silva. That's a great idea. Take off the only player on the field that's given the impression he knows what a goal is.
69 mins: Martelinho crosses from the right, but Rab Douglas claims well. He throws it out and Sutton is fouled by Anunciacao. The delivery into the box is good and Boavista's defenders panic. After pinging around the box briefly, the ball rolls in the direction of Thompson who shoots well. His effort is deflected over the bar for a corner which Boavista clear.
72 mins: "Why do you give John Hartson such a hard time always?" enquires Tony Gibson. "It's not his fault that he is a horizontally, facially and folically challenged." I'll have to beg to differ with you there Tony. I think Mr Hartson's pretty good ... for a horizontally, facially and folically challenged bloke. He's certainly some man to trap a ball on his chest. Larsson is fouled on the left wing and Petrov's free-kick is woeful. Celtic have 15 minutes to redeem themselves, but the way they're playing at the moment I'd say they could keep going until midnight and still not get a sniff of a goal.
76 mins: Duda ambles up the left wing for Boavista. He gives the ball away. Celtic counter. They give the ball away. Usually when you type things in short sentences like that, it makes them sound exciting. But this. Is. The exception. To the. Rule.
80 mins: GOAL! Boavista 0 - 1 Celtic (Agg:1-2) My anti-Nostradamus qualities come to Celtic's rescue. Having given up on his team-mates, Henrik Larsson - who else? - makes and scores one himself. A surge into the Boavista box took him between two statuesque defenders and he thumped the ball past Ricardo, who flapped at it as it went past him into the net. A good strike, but a soft goal from a Boavista point of view. One of the defenders should have put a stop to Larsson's gallop, and the goalkeeper should have kept it out if he didn't have rubber wrists.
81 mins: As things stand, Celtic will be meeting Porto in the final in Seville in May. They are holding Lazio in Rome after tonking them in the first leg. Yuri replaces Pedrosa on the Boavista team.
85 mins: Johan Mjallby concedes a free on the left hand side of the Celtic box. It's swung in and Rab Douglas punches clear instead of catching it. Meanwhile, Brian Potter, who may or may not be the same Brian Potter who owns the Phoenix Club in Peter Kay's excellent Phoenix Nights has written in to tell me that he "often cycles down Glendenning Ave on my way to work these days." By way of evidence, he includes a map. Once again, I hope it isn't porn - bestial or otherwise.
89 mins: Agathe hoofs a clearance into the stand. With a minute to go, both teams have finally woken up. There will be four minutes of injury time.
91 mins: Boavista launch an aeriel assault on the Celtic box, but their long balls are meat and drink to the big men that comprise the Scottish side's defence.
93 mins: Thompson thumps the ball the length of the field to nobody in particular and wastes a few extra seconds. Boavista counter. Luiz Claudio wastes Boavista's last chance by scuffing the ball over the bar.

Full time: Celtic have made their first European final for 33 years by the skin of their teeth. they will face Porto in Seville in May. Meanwhile, this from a disgruntled reader: "I've been fired from work and strongly suspect that my internet/email abuse may have a lot to do with it," writes Ian Edgar, getting in one last bit of email and Internet abuse before he clears his desk.
Boavista fan Evanio Colberto has a question: "I'm confused," he says, seemingly oblivious to the fact that so is everyone else who reads these match reports. "I can undestand why a Celtic play football in Scotland, but who are these Rangers? I've never heard of them. Are they like the Scottish equivalent of the Mounties? Forgive me."
Well Evanio, how long have you got? Rangers are not like the Mounties, although a lot of their fans wear hats. Bowler hats, to be precise. They are in fact a football team from Glasgow, just like Celtic. Except with less trophies. Actually, now that I think of it, the light-sabre wielding business man in the ad at the top of this report looks like a thin Rangers fan.
Right, that's me done. Thanks for your time and your mails - a few more of which may find their way onto this report by close of business tonight. all the best - BG
Post-match row
"In case you never noticed,there were only three Englishmen in the Manchester United starting lineup against Real and only one of them was Anglo Saxon," writes Jim Geddes, who I'm thinking is referring to my answer to Tracey Mohr's question in the 22nd minute. "With a population almost ten times that of Scotland that is pretty sad. In any case if you knew anything about football you would know that Celtic are an Irish team."
Oh Jim. Aren't you the parnoid, wrong, angry man? Whatever you might think about Celtic, I can confirm that I am Irish. I can also confirm that Celtic are a Scottish team that are based in Glasgow, which is in Scotland. Celtic also play in the Scottish Premier League which, as the name suggests, is also based in Scotland. Just because they were founded by an Irish padre does not mean that they are Irish, even if they do have huge Irish support. Manchester United have huge Irish support, but you don't see David Beckham wearing a green felt hat, gnawing on a potato and waving a long knobbly stick in the air. Finally, I was not criticising Celtic for having only two Scottish players in their side. I was merely answering a query from someone who wanted to know how many Scottish players were playing for them tonight. And remember Jim, just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not all out to get you.
More reader ramblings
I have been brainwashed into being a Celtic fan but can someone please tell me why Rangers fans are called "huns" and should I hate them as I do the Green Bay Packers?" - Kathleen Higgins, Chicago. (I'll answer that privately when I've got a spare couple of hours, Kathleen! - BG)
"Do us a favour and make a gag up, something about how Ronaldo was alway going to destroy Man United as he is used to running around Rio with a ball anyway" - Ian Edgar
"You should have got a shot of a mountie with a mask. They are all over the streets of Toronto now because of SARS. Their horses are making a frightful mess and are picking fights with the bears and moose. I am afraid to go home tonight." - Niall O'Keefe
This is Patrick in Montreal. I'm following the match while reading up on Vygosty's views on Cognitive Development. I'm wondering if Celtic's earlier inability to score might not have been due to some sort of developmental lapsus Henrik Larsson might have experienced in his early childhood." - Patrick Culhane
"I think a picture of John Hartson standing on a scale eating a meat pie would be more amusing than the mountie. Surely you have one on file" - Mick Morrall
"Did you manage to get the monkey to ride his dog(41 mins)? The little fecker wouldn't perform for me. I've been waiting for a dog-riding monkey video for years" - Peter Lyons.
"Thank you for spreading the gospel of the monkey rodeo. We are going to make t-shirts. Do you want one?" - Dan Reilly
"Hate to be accused of being pedantic, but isn't PlayStation actually a Sony product? Or is the intent to get Nintendo to send free stuff so you'll use their wares instead of the PlayStation? On a completely unrelated topic, I'm thinking of returning to Blighty to open an all-you-can-eat establishment called Stuffed and Chuffed. Think it would have any chance of succeeding?" - Dan in DC
"I enjoy these broadcasts. The other day I learned what the term 'nutmeg' means, so now could you tell us about 'wellies' - Charlie Troxel
"The reason Celtic can't score as easily against non-Scottish teams can be summed up in one word. Goalkeepers." - Paul McDevitt
"Rubbish game. Nice to see the monkey though. It reminds me of the photo I have at home of a Indonesian monkeys wearing jockey silks and strapped on to to greyhounds in a real race. The trial was performed in Sydney just after the war to see if the monkeys could steer their mounts from crashing out of races at the first bend. Several monkeys were killed and the trial was discontinued" - Rozzer.

The teams
Boavista: 1-Ricardo Pereira; 16-Joaquim Martelinho, 3-Fernando Avalos, 5-Eder Silveira, 19-Mario Loja; 96-Filipe Anunciacao; 18-Pedro Santos, 27-Luis Pedrosa, 6-Erivan Lima; 8-Duda Ventura, 11-Elpidio Silva
Celtic: 20-Robert Douglas; 5-Joos Valgaeren, 6-Dianbobo Balde, 35-Johan Mjallby, 17-Didier Agathe, 18-Neil Lennon, 14-Paul Lambert, 19-Stilian Petrov, 8-Alan Thompson, 10-John Hartson, 7-Henrik Larsson.
Referee: Valentin Ivanov (Russia)
Kick-off: 8pm

---

[therock67]

Celtic 2 - 3 FC Porto (AET)

Larsson 47, 57 | Derki 45, 115, Alenichev 54,

Barry Glendenning
Wednesday May 21, 2003


Preamble
The pitch is in the Estadio Olimpico is balder than the absent John Hartson (back and calf injuries), while Celtic manager Martin O'Neill's side will also be forced to cope with temperatures in the 90s as they take on Porto in the UEFA Cup final of 2003. O'Neill names the same 11 that beat Dundee 6-2 last Wednesday, with Chris Sutton once again partnering Henrik Larsson, who is looking for his 200th Celtic goal. Celtic will once again have to upset the odds of they are to win their second European trophy since the Lisbon Lions won the European Cup under Jock Stein in 1967.


Porto are the favourites, having knocked Lazio out in the semi-final. Capucho and Deco remain as part of the set-up that saw off Celtic 3-0 in last year's Champions League, but the Scottish champions are boosted by the suspension of Porto's Helder Postiga.
In the event of a draw, tonight's final will be settled by a silver goal - if one team scores in the first half of extra time, their opposition will have the remainder of the half to bag an equaliser. If they fail to score, they lose.
By the way, the pitch isn't that bald. I just wanted to make a cheap gag at John Hartson's expense, which probably isn't very fair as I'm sure the big man's miserable enough already at the prospect missing out on tonight's match. If there's one certainty tonight, it's that Celtic are going to miss his presence up front.
1 min: Porto are playing from right to left in blue and white stripes, blue shorts and blue socks. Celtic are in their usual green and white hoops, with white shorts and white socks. Game on.
2 mins: Porto win a free-kick about 25 yards out, on the right-hand side of the Celtic box. Celtic put three men in their wall and the free-kick is blocked. Maniche Ribeiro smashes the rebound low and hard, bringing a smart save out of Rab Douglas.
4 mins: Larsson wins a free-kick after being hacked down by Jorge Costa just inside the Porto half. The ball is worked up to the edge of the box, where Petrov snatches at a shot and makes it easy for Baia in the Porto goal.
5 mins: Costinha attempts to welly the ball clear, hits a fresh-air shot and goes down in a heap holding his thigh. He appears to have hurt his ankle. He's stretchered off.
6 mins: "As usual Scottish football takes a back seat with Guardian coverage," writes Michael Thornton, who appears to be reading our coverage. "The seventh item to appear in 'Football' is the Uefa final with Celtic. If it had been Blackburn or even Liverpool in the final do you think the coverage would be seventh in the running order?" Well observed Michael. Last time I looked the Uefa Cup final was the first item, second item, sixth, seventh, eigth, ninth, 10th and 11th items on our football site (not to mention the two features and pictures across the top.) Is there any creature in the world more pathetic than a paranoid Scotsman with an inferiority complex and a chip on his shoulder?
10 mins: Agathe goes down injured after a clash with a Porto player, whose name I didn't catch. The game is very patchy and stop-start so far, and the bumpy pitch isn't helping matters.
12 mins: Douglas parries a Deco Souza free-kick and after a game of head-tennis in their own box, Celtic clear. Poor defending. The ball finds its way to Larsson on the half-way line, but he's unable to do anything with it.
14 mins: Deep in Celtic territory, Bobo Balde dithers over a clearance and eventually hacks the ball straight to a Porto player, who thumps it straight back into the Celtic box. The Scottish champions clear.
16 mins: This just in from Michael Thornton (6 mins): "The Uefa final now seems to be first in running order. Aye. Right!"
17 mins: Still very scrappy, with Porto relying on the long ball in these early stages. Probably not the cleverest scheme in the world when you're up against a back-three as monstrously large as Celtic's. Baia concedes a corner, needlessly. He then punches Sutton's inswinger clear needlessly when he should have caught it.
19 mins: My glamourous assistant is currently scouring the wires for a photo of events from the Estadio Olimpico. As soon as we get one we'll stick it up and reading this match report will be eerily similar to being at the match. Porto win a free-kick to the right of the Celtic box after Alan Thompson is harshly judged to have fouled Deco Souza. Nothing comes of it.
21 mins: Celtic win a free-kick about 20 yards out on the left of the Porto box. Larsson bends it around the Porto wall, but Baia gets down quickly to smother it.
22 mins: Derlei dummies well to set up Capucho in the Celtic box. The ball bounces at waist-height and the young striker swings wildly at it. A waste.
24 mins: "Does anybody know where I can see the game in downtown Rio de Janeiro?" writes Alec Reid, who is in Rio de Janeiro and wants to see the game down town. Having said that, I suspect he has no interest in football, but just wants to make the rest of jealous by letting us know that he's in Rio and we're not. Alternatively, he may be some sort of weird Petula Clark fetishist. Who knows? Still scrappy at the ball game. Hardly surprising since it's 90 degrees in the big bowl. Sutton attempts to dink a ball from the edge of the big Porto box into the path of Larsson on the edge of the small Porto box (sorry about all that confusing technical speak). It's cut out by a defender.
28 mins: "Can I start the pro-Celtic conspiracy?" enquires Alan Gardner who, unique among Rangers fans, appears to be able to write. "The fourth official is a brother in law of an ex-Celtic player (Lubo Moravick)." Meanwhile, will all those people who are writing in to say that "superior" English people like me are worse than paranoid Scotsmen with chips on their shoulders please desist. I am not, never have been and never will be English. Capucho and Deco break well, but thier attack comes to nought. Celtic break and Agathe crosses from the right to the far post. The forehead of the incoming Sutton misses it by this much. He'd stolen a yard on his man and has missed the best chance of the game so far.
35 mins: Celtic win a throw deep in their own half. That's honestly the last interesting thing to have happened in the last seven minutes. This is a very dull match.
37 minutes: "Regarding the silver goal," writes Gary Edwards, who I suspect is about to ask me a series of questions I don't know the answer to. "What happens in the second period of extra time if the team behind equalises before the end of the first period and it's all square at half time - is it golden goal? Also, what happens if the team who goes ahead in the first period goes two-nil up? Does the other team have 'til half-time to bang two in or is it goodnight Irene?" I honestly couldn't tell you, Gareth and was wondering the exact same thing myself. If anyone knows, let me know.
40 mins: Deco comes within an ace of scoring the opener for Porto after hooking the ball over his own head, turning on the proverbial sixpence and bursting between Balde and Lennon. From about six yards out, he shot low and hard across the face of the Celtic goal, but Douglas saved well. A great piece of individual skill from the little man.
43 mins: "Why Petula Clark?" enquires Alec Reid (24 mins), who also mentions that he's a teacher. "I'm old enough to remember her. I've tried every ersatz Irish pub in Rio and they are all crap. The only thing left is to log into you Barry and get slagged off at the same time." As I recall Alec, Petula wanted to go "downtown" as well.
44 mins GOAL!! Celtic 0 - 1 Porto Deco crosses from the left to Alenitchev, who shoots and brings a brilliant save out of Douglas, who can only parry it to his left. Derlei follows up as all good strikers should and slots it home with relative ease from a tight angle.
44+2 mins: To be honest, that's no more than Celtic deserve. Stilian Petrov is having a shocker, which means that Sutton, Larsson and Thompson are seeing very little of the ball. A bad end for Celtic to a scrappy first half. Conceding a goal on the stroke of half-time is always disappointing. Unlike, say, conceding one after 75 minutes. Which is great.
Half-time
Where the match is being shown in downtown Rio: The game is being shown in The Oscar Wilde (stage) Irish Pub, 245 Avenue of Jesus Christ the King, Rio. Next door to the "Rat and Carrot" who are not showing it - because they're English. That's for you Alec Reid, and when you get down there you owe Rory McPartland a pint for putting the information your way. If he's not there, leave the price of a beer behind the bar for him. It's the least you can do, even if you are on a teacher's salary.
Interesting Porto factoid, No312: "In possibly the worst global nickname for a set of fans, Porto FC 'adeptos' are called 'tripeiros' - the tripe lovers," writes Jon Jones. "Sort of surprised none of them are following your game commentary." Very droll, JJ. Very droll.
That silver goal business: "Basically, from my understanding, whoever is winning at the end of the first period of extra time wins," writes Matthew Curtis. "If it's still a draw then the second period of extra time is played just like the old days before this stupid 'golden/silver goal' nonsense."
Free plug for a regular reader: Emmett Williams is a musician. I have no idea whether he's any good or not, but this is his website. He has a show next Tuesday in New York, so could everyone please go to it. Thank you. And don't blame me if he's some rubbish, bearded, folkie playing dirgey David Gray cover-versions that are even more boring than the originals. Just have a few pints and make the best of it.
47 mins: GOAL! Celtic 1 - 1 Porto Henrik Larsson leaps like a gazelle/salmon/other-leap-metaphors at the far post to nod an inswinging Agathe cross back across the face of goal and into the net. Brilliant stuff.
49 mins: Derlei goes down under a challange from Mjallby. He clutches his ankle and starts rolling around like a pig in muck. Get. Up. You. Girly. Ponce.
51 mins: "I knew that when someone made a disparaging comment about you being English, you'd bring up that you weren't," writes Chuck Budd. "When the topic of the Major League Soccer comes up, suddenly you're English because you look down on it like an inferior league. You must forget you're Irish at that point, because the Irish Premier League SUCKS compared to MLS!!!" Hmm ... Chuck Budd. I wonder what nationality he is.
54 mins GOAL! Celtic 1 - 2 Porto: Dmitri Alenitchev latches on to a perfectly weighted through-ball into the Celtic box from Deco Souza and rolls the ball past Rab Douglas and into the empty net. A lovely piece of skill.
57 mins: GOAL!!! Celtic 2 - 2 FC Porto Henrik Larsson is left unmarked on the edge of the six-yard box by Rocardo Carvalho. He leaps, hangs in the air and then smashes an Alan Thompson corner past the hapless Vitor Baia with his big, juicy, frying pan of a Swedish forehead.
58 min: Neil Lennon, who is on a yellow card (sorry, I missed it), fouls Derlei. Once again, the Porto striker goes down as if he's been shot. Like a journalist pal of mine once said of ITV's Martin Bashir, he's a terrible man and he should be ashamed of himself.
61 mins: Apparently there's a virus going around that means on some people's computers, it may have seemed like I credited Porto's opener to Celtic in the score at the top of the page. I apologise to anyone whose hopes may have been dashed by this terrible technical error. Rest assured that (a) it, eh, wasn't just a case of me being a moron, and (b) that the score is now 2-2.
63 mins: Laursen (the Dane, as opposed to Larsson the Swede) comes on to replace Valgaeren on the Celtic team. It's a straight swap.
65 mins: For definitive clarification of that silver goal business, click here. Thanks to Alex Usher for that. We've heard from him/her before, but I can't remember if he/she is a he-Alex or a she-Alex. Thompson plays a lovely through-ball to Sutton down the left flank, but the big man is penalised for offside. He wasn't, you know!
68 mins: Celtic are definitely looking more likely to score here, although I'm loathe to say it as comments like that from me usually herald a flood of goals from the other team. The Scottish champions are turning the screw. Pedro Emanuel replaces Jorge Costa on the Porto team. Celtic attack again, but Sutton is dispossessed on the edge of the Porto box and swarthy continentals break.
72 mins: Celtic win a free-kick at least 35 yards out. Thompson drives it low and hard, gets it under the wall, but his effort is cleared by another defender.
75 mins: Celtic win a corner, which Thompson horses in from the left. It's cleared by Porto for a throw-in. Jackie McNamara comes on for Paul Lambert.
77 mins: In all the excitement at the start of the second half, I forgot to mention the quality male streaker who came out to the centre-circle in a ref's outfit, stripped it off, mooned at everyone and pelted down the field towards Baia's goal with an ad for a casino printed on his back. My thanks to Alan Kirkup for the disturbingly detailed reminder. Something of a lull on the field at the moment. Bobo Balde gets booked for a rash challenge on Capucho.
80 mins: Torben M. Welch, Esq. has written in to say he thinks Chuck Budd is Canadian. This is too surreal. Mjallby flattens Nuno Valente as both men clash in the air. Go Johan! His blond tresses, by the way, are looking as windswept as ever. Porto win a corner which Deco hoofs in. Dimitri Alenitchev volleys from the edge of the box. It looks impressive, but goes a mile wide.
87 mins: Sorry, my computer crashed. You've missed nothing.
88 mins: At least that's my story and I'm sticking to it. It could have been a veritable goal- and sending-off fest for all you know. I could be telling you lies. Packs of lies.
89 mins: The last 10 minutes of normal time have been played almost exclusively in the middle third of the field. Once I type that, Porto escape from no-man's land and attack through Alentitchev. He crosses/shoots to/at nobody/nowhere in particular and the ball sails harmlessly wide.
90 + 1 mins: Thompson does well to feed Sutton down the left flank. His low cross rolls behind Larsson along the edge of the six-yard box and Porto clear.
90 + 3 mins: Porto are applying pressure late doors, but Celtic break and Larsson is put through by Thompson. He nudges a defender, however, and gets penalised for his troubles when he looked likely to score.
90 + 4: Alenitchev fires high and wide for Porto after being let in by a dreadful pass from Celtic substitute Jackie McNamara. It's a let-off. The ref blows for full-time. Extra time, a possible silver goal or penalties await.
Extra time: For definitive clarification of that silver goal business, click here. But come back soon, because everyone knows that looking at other football websites for too long makes you go blind.
1 min: Celtic get the first period of extra time underway. They go forward. Which is nice to see.
2 mins: Bobo Balde horses the ball forward. Mjallby gifts the ball to Deco, who feeds Alentichev. He thunders into the final third of the field. Agathe alleviates the pressure with a fine tackle. Corner for Porto. It's swung in, it's deep and it's Mjallby who heads clear.
3 mins: Agathe gifts the ball to Valente after a communication breakdown between him and Laurson.
5 mins: Oh dear. Bobo Balde up-ends Derlei Silva and earns his second yellow card. He walks off, applauding the Celtic supporters as he leaves the field and makes his way to the dressing room.
6 mins: Celtic are still playing three at the back, with Jackie McNamara having dropped back to take up Balde's position. Capucho is replaced by Ferreiro for Porto - a forward for a forward.
12 mins: My computer crashes again. Nothing of note to report anyway - both teams are playing very cautiously.
14 mins: Stilian Petrov is replaced by Shaun Moloney.
Half-time in extra time
15 mins: Chris Sutton has moved back to anchor Celtic's midfield, with Maloney and Larsson playing up front. Porto aren't taking advantage of their extra man, while Celtic aren't prepared to sit back and wait for penalties. They win a corner but nothing comes of it. There's 15 minutes to go and if nobody scores, this Uefa Cup final will be decided by penalties. Porto kick-off.
16 mins: Alenitchev plays a nice pass out to Ferreiro on the right wing, but Mjallby shepherds him and the ball out of play. Good defending. Celtic win a free-kick just inside their own half.
17 mins: Porto win a free-kick approximately 10 yards inside their own half. It's taken, and the ball moves backwards once ... twice ... three times ... and ends up at the feet of Vitor Baia in the Porto goal. And there was me thinking Celtic were the team with 10 men.
19 mins: Porto win a free-kick on the right wing, which Deco swings in. His delivery is dire and the ball is easily cleared at the near post.
20 mins: Shaun Moloney tees up Larsson for his hat-trick with a perfect cross, but Nuno Valente saves Porto by nipping in behind the Swede on the edge of the six-yard box and getting his head to the ball first.
22 mins: "Why are you running 7 minutes behind soccernet?" writes Alan Nocker. Because I keep having to answer questions like that from folk like you, Alan. That's why.
GOAL! Celtic 2 - 3 Porto Disaster for Celtic. Valente tried to chip the ball over Rab Douglas. The Celtic goalkeeper could only parry and the ball rolled to Derlei. He side-stepped Alan Thompson's charge-down and slotted the ball home from about 10 yards. Douglas got a touch on it, but couldn't keep it out.
27 mins: Celtic have three minutes left to equalise. Baia goes down injured and needs treatment. Funny that.
28 mins: Alan Nocker has sent this in: "How about a bit of analysis? Who is going to win?" This from the guy who wonders why I'm seven minutes behind soccernet!!!!!
29 mins: Celtic win a free-kick just inside the Porto half. Thompson lobs it into the box and Porto concede a corner. It's wasted. There'll be four minutes of stoppage time.
30 + 1 mins: Celtic win a throw deep in the Porto half. They've piled everyone forward in search of an equaliser. Moloney makes room to get a cross in. Corner for Celtic.
30 + 2 Valente hacks down Thompson on the edge of the Porto box. Free-kick for Celtic, and Valente walks for his second bookable offence. Moloney makes a complete dog's breakfast of the free-kick, ballooning it over the bar. Why didn't Thompson take it?
30 + 3 mins: Porto win a free-kick deep in their own half, which Vitor Baia dilly-dallies over. He belts it up the field and the referee blows for full time. Poor old Celtic have been beaten by the Portuguese champions' late, late winner, which is a shame for the staggering number of fans that travelled to Seville to cheer them on.
After-amble: Celtic's players, some of them distraught, go forward to collect their losers' medals from lunch-eater supreme, hungry Lennart Johansson of Uefa. They look gutted, as does Lennart because he's standing in the middle of football pitch without a plate of sandwiches in sight. To raucous booing from the Celtic fans, Porto's players collect their winners' medals. Now that Celtic haven't won it, we can talk about how insignificant the competition is anyway, as it really only decides the 33rd best team in Europe. Jorge Costa takes the cup from Lennart and holds it aloft. Cue ticker-tape and the usual pictures of happy, rich young men bouncing up and down in celebration. Derlei Silva takes the man of the match gong, which is a shame because, despite his undeniable skill in front of goal, he's a horrible little play-acting tramp. Awardiung him the man-of-the-match trophy will only encourage him ... he declared pompously.
Celtic: 20-Robert Douglas; 5-Joos Valgaeren, 6-Bobo Balde, 35-Johan Mjallby, 17-Didier Agathe, 18-Neil Lennon, 14-Paul Lambert (captain), 19-Stilian Petrov, 8-Alan Thompson, 9-Chris Sutton, 7-Henrik Larsson.
Porto: 99-Vitor Baia; 22-Paulo Ferreira, 2-Jorge Costa (captain), 4-Ricardo Carvalho, 8-Nuno Valente; 6-Francisco Costinha, 15-Dmitri Alenitchev, 10-Deco Souza, 18-Maniche Ribeiro; 21-Nuno Capucho, 11-Derlei Silva.
Referee: Lubos Michel (Slovakia)
Kick-off is at 19:45pm

---

[therock67]

Celtic 3 - 1 Anderlecht

Larsson 11, Miller 15, Sutton 27 | Aruna 76

Barry Glendenning
Wednesday November 5, 2003


Frank and Deano: But were they happy?

Preamble
I'm late. The teams line up. Music. Handshakes. Blah-de-blah. Anderlecht in blue with white sleeves. Lots of pun potential on their teamsheet. Limited Kompany etc. Hendricks solo etc. Celtic in their usual hoops. Referee urges captains Baseggio and McNamara to "make it a good game."
1 min: Anderlecht kick off and, to a crescendo of booing from the Celtic hordes, move the ball all the way back to give Daniel Zitka, their goalkeeper, an early touch. This group is still anybody's, which is my way of saying that I haven't really looked at it and haven't a clue what'#s going on, either in the group or in general. However, I'm sure Celtic will be expecting to win this tonight, particularly after throwing away the three points in Belgium.


2 mins: Larsson and Sutton combine well on the right flank. The big Englishman attempts to cross into the on-rushing Petrov and wins a corner off Tihinen. Nowt comes of it. Goal kick for Anderlecht.
4 mins: Anderlecht win a free-kick deep in the Celtic half when Ivicia Mornar lollipops Stanislav Varga and is brought down. Nothing malicious - he was just too quick for him. The free-kick is taken and Celtic clear.
7 mins: Celtic win a free-kick just outside the Anderlecht D, after Larsson is wrasssled to to the ground. Hartson takes it too quickly, passes to Agathe who loses it and a great dead-ball scoring opportunity goes to waste. If some of these footballers had brains they'd be dangerous.
"I am GIDDY with excitement in anticipation of this game," writes Eric Smith, putting the word 'giddy' in upper-case letters in a quite disturbing manner. Still, it's nice that someone's excited about it.
10 mins: Celtic win a corner, Petrov swings it in and Anderlecht clear.
11 mins GOAL! Celtic 1 - 0 Anderlecht An absolute peach of a goal. Miller picked up the ball in midfield and passed it out to Agathe who was galloping down the wing from the right-back position. He played a perfect one-two with John Hartson, then whipped a perfect, early cross across the edge of the six-yard box, where a diminutive, shaven-headed Swedish man named Henrik Larsson was waiting at the near post to head past Daniel Zitka in the Anderlecht goal. Lovely.
15 mins GOAL! Celtic 2 - 0 Anderlecht The ball is played into John Hartson on the edge of the Anderlecht box. Liam Miller, rushing into the box in support, latches on to the Welshman's inevitable chest-down and buries the ball low and hard past the totally exposed Zitka.
18 mins: It's all Celtic. They're really turning the screw now. Scumbag Kev (it says here) writes, with regard to the complaints my report on Rangers 0 - 1 Manchester United elicited from the Ibrox press office a couple of weeks ago. "Have you had more complaints from the Huns today even though you were not commentating on their game last night?" he enquires. "Were you to blame for their soulless defeat last night or is it a mass papish conspiracy?"
Now, now Kev. Nobody likes a smartass. I can't stress enough that the views expressed on this match report are not necessarily those of the commentator. I'm just the messenger boy. Following orders etc. etc.
23 mins: Hartson releases Liam Miller down the right hand side, and the young man from Cork sends in a fantastic cross from the sideline that caresses the crossbar before dropping just out of reach of Henrik Larsson's desperate lunge. Could have been goal number three. Unlucky. Miller is playing a blinder in this, his first Champions League start.
27 mins GOAL Celtic 3 - 0 Anderlecht From an in-swinging corner, Sutton buries a header past the unfortunate Zitka, who was again left cruelly exposed by a defence for which the word "hapless" could well have been invented. The corner came from a brilliant Celtic move that saw Miller tee up Petrov with another beautiful cross, only to see his team-mate's bullet header tipped over the bar.
30 mins: Aruna and Sutton get involved in a spot of handbags on the halfway line. Celtic had put the ball out of play to enable a winded Henrik Larsson to get treated. Anderlecht took the throw straight away and didn't give the ball back. Boo! Hiss! Sutton gets booked.
32 mins: Anderlecht striker Aruna and Celtic goalkeeper Hedman go for a high, dropping ball. Aruna does a passable impersonation of Diego Maradonna circa 1986 and promptly gets booked for handball. Moments later, John Hartson gets booked for upending some hapless Anderlecht-ian.
35 mins: How did Celtic lose to this shower of no-hopers a fortnight ago? How? I saw the match and I still can't figure it out.
Apropos nothing, did anyone see 4 For Texas on Channel Four this afternoon? Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, Ursula Andres, some other fit actress whose name escapes me at the moment, Charles Bronson, the Three Stooges ... a stellar cast for a Wednesday afternoon matinee on terrestrial TV. I'm not sure why I asked that. Just curious because I thought it made a pleasant change from Jessica Fletcher on Murder She Wrote.
39 mins: Hartson splits the Anderlecht defence with a through-ball which Larsson runs on to. Peep! Offside.
41 mins: Stilian Petrov clatters Anderlecht's resident Swede, Christian Wilhelmsson, from behind. The referee awards a free to Wilhelmsson, who has a similar crusty-esque ponytail to David Beckham, but there the similarities between the pair end. Moments later, Larsson attempts to score with a cheeky back-heel from another perfect Liam Miller cross. The young Irish boy is, as they say, a bit special.
44 mins: Michal Zewlakow brings down Henrik Larsson right in front of the referee and gets a yellow card for his troubles. Stanislav Varga takes the free-kick from about 30 yards out, but doesn't score. Seconds later, a rebound drops his way and he has another crack. His low, hard pile-driver goes just wide of Zitka's right-hand post.
45 mins: For the Nth time, Liam Miller finds himself free on the right wing. He cuts inside, ambles towards the intersecion of the six-yard box and the goal-line and attempts to squeeze the ball past Zitka into either the goal or the on-rushing Petrov. Zitka gathers ... just about.
Half-time
Film trivia: "That would be Anita Ekburg," writes Dave Douglas, who very kindly puts me out of my misery regarding that used-to-be-attractive hottie I couldn't remember from the movie 4 For Texas (35 mins). Thank you. The emails are poring in, by the way and as soon as I get some funny ones I'll be sure to put them up. Standards are slipping, and not just at my end ... if you'll pardon the expression.
Second half: Celtic kick off and immediately go on the offensive courtesy of a large Welsh man with a big gut. While attempting to clear, Tihinen hacks the ball straight into his unfortunate team-mate Zewlakow's knackers. The poor sod drops like a sack of spuds. That would bring tears to a glass eye. However, it's funny because it happened to somebody else.
48 mins: Anderlecht manage to hold on to the ball for more than 10 seconds and then win a free when ... eh, something happens. A long ball is floated in and Tihinen heads it goalwards. Wide.
50 mins: "Could you use the half-time interlude to explain the exact nature of your oft-mentioned relationship with your friend Duff?" enquires John Doyle. I would John, but I'm afraid the interlude is now over. I also need clarification: Do you mean my drinking buddy Ciaran Duffy (aka Duff) or his lesser-known namesake Damien, international footballer and £17 million man at large? If, as I suspect, it's the latter, I', afraid we're not that close. I interviewed him once for 20 minutes and while he was a nice bloke, he didn't have a huge amount to say for himself. If he did, I'm sure he'd speak highly of me as well.
Anderlecht attack, but Petrov intervenes and puts a stop to what passes for their gallop.
54 mins: Finally, a Celtic attack down the right flank is foiled. Miller and Agathe combine well, but the latter is eventually dispossessed by Olivier Deschacht. Anderlecht clear.
56 mins: John Hartson shoots from the edge of the box and stings the palms of Zitka in the Anderlecht goal. Once again, he's is having an outstanding match for Celtic.
57 mins: Celtic win a free-kick on the right wing, just outside the Anderlecht penalty area. Miller dinks it in, but Kompany heads clear. Limited Kompany. Limited.
59 mins: Celtic win a free-kick just outsaide the Anderlecht box, on the left. Larsson has a pop, but it's high wide and handsome. Or rebounded off the wall. Or perhaps hit a post or crossbar. To be honest, I wasn't watching because I was answering my mobile. Sorry.
61 mins: "Wouldn't it be cool if the Celts got through and the Huns went out?" writes Fergal O'Shea, seemingly oblivious to the fact that neither team has a snowball's chance in hell of winning the Champions League. We'll have no small-minded, sectarian parochialism on this website. Now, where did I leave my bowler hat?
63 mins: Stanislav Varga, concedes a free deep in Celtic territory and earns a yellow card in the process. Mornar swings it in from the right, but Balde heads clear.
"That would be Anita Ekberg, not Ekburg (Movie Trivia)," writes Hakan Hansson. "Just thought I'd let you know." Thanks Hakan.
67 mins: As one, 67,000 supporters sing: "Are you Rangers? Are you Rangers? Are you Rangers in disguise?" However, they shut up fairly abruptly when Anderlecht get behind the Celtic defence, deliver a decent ball into the box and Aruna almost scores. Bobo Balde rides to the rescue again.
72 mins: Hats off to Andrew Jackson who's sent me this excellent alternative guide to Glasgow. Most amusing and entertaining, but you're not allowed read it until this match is over.
74 mins: Liam Miller walks off with a tweaked hamstring and takes the long way around to the tunnel for maximum applause milkage. Sunderland loanee Mickey Gray takes to the field to make his Champions League debut. Himself and Stanislav Varga in the Champions League. The irony.
76 mins: Celtic 3- 1 Anderlecht Aruna scores from the melee that ensues after Hedman saves a Mornar penalty. Aruna appeared to dive on the edge of the box with Bobo Balde in close attendance to win the penalty. Hedman saved the spot-kick, then saved Wilhelmsson's follow-up and at the third attempt, Aruna buried it. Hedman was justifiably furious with his team-mates for leaving him exposed.
80 mins: John Hartson fails to connect properly with a Chris Sutton cross and his skews his volley wide, much to the frustration of Stilian Petrov, who had embarked on a lung-busting run the length of the pitch to sweep it home. Celtic substitution: Maloney for Hartson.
84 mins: "And it would be Ursula AndresS by the way," writes Fiona in France.
86 mins: My thanks for the smutty jokes, URLs, photos of Anita Ekberg and pictures of Celtic-fans-standing-near-Ian Paisley-on-a-bus that everyone keeps sending me, but please stop. I appreciate them all, but they're too distracting. I haven't so much as looked at the football since John Hartson went off. Oh, go on then. Keep them coming.
88 mins: Balde hoofs a clearance straight up in the air and the ball goes so high that it almost leaves the earth's atmosphere. Most comical, but a yarn that gets sadly lost in the telling, I'm afraid.
90 mins: Anderlecht win a free-kick out on the left wing, deep in Celtic territory. Maloney, who has picked up a knock, is brought off and replaced by Sylla. Hedman does well to punch Hasi's brilliant delivery off Aruna's head. A bit lower and he'd have knocked the striker's noggin clean off his shoulders.
90 + 3 mins: Anderlecht win a free-kick, but Baseggio's delivery cannons off Lennon and out for a throw. The referee blows for full-time and Celtic take the points. Elsewhere in the group, Lyon look set to beat Bayern Munich 1-0, which means Bayern will be coming to Celtic Park desperate for a win. Thanks for your time and your emails. All the best ....
Celtic: 21-Magnus Hedman; 17-Didier Agathe, 4-Jackie McNamara, 23-Stanislav Varga, 6-Bobo Balde, 43-Liam Miller, 18-Neil Lennon, 19-Stilian Petrov, 7-Henrik Larsson, 9-Chris Sutton, 10-John Hartson
Anderlecht: 1-Daniel Zitka; 3-Olivier Deschacht, 6-Michal Zewlakow, 27-Vincent Kompany, 30-Hannu Tihinen, 10-Walter Baseggio, 14-Marc Hendrikx, 15-Besnik Hasi, 17-Christian Wilhelmsson, 19-Ivica Mornar, 26-Aruna Dindane,
Referee: Kyros Vassaras (Greece)

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VfB Stuttgart 1 - 0 Rangers

Refresh this page for all the latest action after 7:30pm. Email your thoughts, however banal, to [e-mail]

Barry Glendenning
Wednesday November 26, 2003
Preliminaries
The teams emerge from the tunnel, line up and engage in the usual pre-match Champions League frippery. Rangers are playing all in blue, while Stuttgart are kitted out in a largely white strip with added red bits.
1 min: Rangers kick off playing from right to left and almost immediately, Stuttgart's Alexander Hleb wins possession, skins Michael Ball down the right-hand side and squeezes a shot narrowly wide.

2 mins: Horst Heldt finds Andreas Kinkel down the right hand side, but the Stuttgart man is upended by, I think, Zurab Khizanshvili. The referee lets it go. Moments later, Stephen Hughes picks up a yellow card for a rash on his tackle. Sorry, a rash tackle.
4 mins: The emails are already beginning to pour in and needless to say most of them are unprintable. Interestingly, the last time I covered a Rangers match their press office rang up to complain because I called them Orcs. Some people have no sense of humour and according to the nice lady who rang up ... I'm one of them. Stuttgart are definitely having the better of the early exchanges, keeping Rangers entrenched deep inside their own half.
9 mins: Michael Ball clatters Alexander Hleb for the second or third time - he'd want to be careful or he'll get booked. Rangers get a goal-kick, Klos wellies it up the field and within seconds the ball finds its way back to Maurice Ross in the right-back position. With nobody to off-load it to, he's forced to concede a throw deep in his own half. Rangers are really under the cosh early doors.
11 mins: Maurice Ross fouls Kevin Kuranyi on the edge of the box and concedes a free-kick. Andreas Hinkel whips it across the face of the goal with considerable venom, but it fizzes wide without anyone getting a touch. This Stuttgart team isn't too bad at all, which is unfortunate for Rangers as this is a must-win game.
14 mins: Rangers launch a rare sortie out of their own half when the Georgian Shota Arveladze is sent clear. He tries to do to much alone and is dispossesed on the edge of the Stuttgart box. Cue another lightening fast attack down the right flank by Stuttgart.
17 mins: Philipp Lahm has a shot from distance, which sails high over the Rangers crossbar.
"I don't know how many cameras there are going to be at this game, but if I was Rupert Murdoch, I'd make sure all mine were trained away from the middle of the pitch, and looking directly at the right wing," writes Keith Parker. "In fact, now they're in Germany, I doubt if Rangers will be venturing anywhere near the left at all." Very clever. What? Oh.
20 mins: For some reason I can't quite put my finger on, looking at Rangers reminds me of the Queen's speech today. Black Rod knocking on the door of the House of Commons, lots of old men in ermine and a crown with gazillions of £s worth of jewellry perched on Her Maj's head at a jaunty angle. Very 21st century.
Rangers finally create a chance which falls to Ricksen on the edge of the six-yard box. He attempts to drive the ball past Timo Hildebrand, but the Stuggart goalkeeper stops it well with his left foot.
24 mins: For Stuttgart, Kevin Kuranyi is put through, one-on-one against Klos. The Rangers goalkeeper stands his ground and the Stuttgart striker slots it wide of the right-hand post. Good goalkeeping, but a diabolical miss. At least Ricksen had an excuse, being a defender playing in midfield.
27 mins: "Rangers have one Scot! What's the point?" writes David Brennan, before whingeing at length about various issues that I'm not going to entertain here seeing as his opening sentence was 100% incorrect. Meanwhile on the pitch, Imre Szabics goes down in a heap after getting an accidental boot in the chops from Zurab Khizanshvili. He'll live.
28 mins: From the edge of the Rangers box, Hleb nuges a lovely little pass over the Rangers centre-halves. Kevin Kuranyi beats the offside trap and controls the ball, but Klos gets down well to save brilliantly with his right hand from almost point-blank range. That's two sitters the Stuttgart striker has missed so far.
34 mins: On the edge of the Stuttgart box, Lovenkrands beats two defenders, but attempts to take too much of the ball and gifts possession to Andreas Hinkel, who clears.
35 mins: Rangers are well back in this match, after riding out the early onslaught. They're looking a bit impotent in the final third though. Oh, grow up.
36 mins: Meisner attempts a snap-shot from the edge of the Rangers box. A fantastic effort ... if he was Jonny Wilkinson and it was the closing seconds of extra-time in a Rugby World Cup final.
39 mins: Through excessive fannying around, Rangers defender Zurab Khizanshvili gives the ball away deep inside his own half and has to rely on Henning Berg to bail him out of trouble.
41 minutes: My thanks to all of you who have mailed in to say that if anyone had a right to complain about me calling Rangers players Orcs, it was the Orcs press officer, not his or her equivalent at Ibrox.
45 mins: "Is it common knowledge that 40+ Rangers supporters have been arrested already in Stuttgart?" enquires Claire MacKenzie. It is now Claire. Do you by any chance work for the Celtic press office?
45+1 mins: GOAL VfB Stuttgart 1 - 0 Rangers Stuttgart take the lead in stoppage time. From a Stuttgart free kick about 40 yards out, Maurice Ross and Paolo Vanoli both attempt to head the same ball clear and fluff it. It bounces beautifully for the onrushing Timo Wenzel, who sends a searing shot past Klos into the bottom right-hand corner. Rangers were unfortunate, as Stuttgart shouldn't have won the free-kick in the first place. They were offside.
Half-time
46 mins This from Josh Rogan: "Barry, you've become something of a cult* celeb on a certain website. (*obv joke about spellcheck here)." I see what you've done there Josh. Pass me a needle and thread while I stitch up my split sides. Stuttgart kick off.
48 mins: Stuttgart substitution: Tiffert for Heldt. Remember, unless they win, Rangers will not be winning the Champions League this season. It should go without saying that even if they do win they won't be winning the Champions League this year either.
50 mins: Stuttgart attack down the right wing again. The substitute Tiffert attempts to get a cross in, but it's defected out for a corner. It's swung in by Meissner and despite peeling off his man at the near post, Kuranyi puts his header well wide.
52 mins: For Stuttgart, Hinkel larrups a long ball down the right wing, which eventually finds its way to Klos in the Rangers goal. He boots it up the field and Ball concedes a throw-in deep in the Stuttgart half. Rangers substitution: Mols for Vanoli. The Dutch striker moves up front to partner Arvaladze, while Lovenkrands moves out to the left.
55 mins: Meissner gets a yellow card for a bone-crunching shoulder charge on Capucho. Meanwhile, this from Neil Armstrong: "With reference to Claire's comment (45 mins)," he says. "Having been wandering around Stuttgart today, a mere 40 or so arrests would seem a little hopeful from Rangers point of view." That's all well and good, but what I want to know Neil is which was more exciting: wandering Stuttgart or wandering around the moon?
59 mins: Rangers are looking fairly ragged at the back, with Capucho making extremely heavy weather of a clearance from a Hleb cross. Luckily for the Rangers man, his goalkeeper saves his bacon. From his clearance, Rangers attack and the ball almost falls for Mols in a scoring position. Close, but no cigar. In the Stuttgart goal, Hildebrand turns defence into attack with a fantastic throw-out and Soldo latches on to it before sending the ball narrowly wide. End to end stuff or what?
64 mins: "Don't worry, the majority of Rangers fans don't think of you," says Alan Gardner. "They just think you're rubbish at your job!!" Fair enough. At least I have a job.
67 mins: Ross finds Capucho with a throw deep in the Stuttgart half. Kuranyi wins the ball back for the home side and Khizanshvili concedes a free-kick.
68 mins: Ross pelts down the right flank for Rangers, but Kuranyi takes the ball off his toe with a superb tackle. Rangers substitution: Ostenstad for Ross.
70 mins: Alexander Hleb is on the ground rolling around in agony after being on the receiving end of a stout Fernado Ricksen challenge. Khizabshvili and Capucho combine well down the right to try and put Ostenstad through, but the sub is flagged for offside. Stuttgart substitution: Centurion for Hleb.
74 mins: Out on the right wing, Stuttgart win a free-kick on the edge of the Rangers box. The substitute, Centurion, attempts to sneak a shot past Klos at the near post, but the Rangers goalkeeper hurls himself across the line to avert catastrophe. He clatters his ribcage off the post for good measure, but is okay.
76 mins: Somebody's beating a drum in the crowd. If I was a Stuttgart player marking Ricksen, I'd feel obliged to ask him: "Can you hear the drums Fernando?"
Peter Lovenkrands currently going ballistic with the referee over something and gets cautioned.
78 mins: Stuttgart attack down the right and a cross is sent in from the touchline. Kevin Kuranyi beats Zurab Khizanshvili easily in the air, but steers his header across the goal and wide.
79 mins: The red mist has well and truly descended on Peter Lovenkrands. He's substituted and replaced by Chris Burke.
Meanwhile, this interesting, if not a little disturbing conspiracy theory from Colin MacKenzie: "As anyone who has the misfortune to have seen BBC Scotland's weekly free advert for Rangers will know, every single player in the Ibrox youth system is - somewhat surprisingly - a ginger," he says. "Despite this fact, there's very few copper-tops in the first team, which leads me to believe there's some sort of institutionalised hair-dying programme in place at Rangers. Presumably, this is either because the club's fine custodians fear that the playful and enlightened 'Gers fans will assume a team full of stunning redheads are of the Brendan persuasion and burn their season tickets in the streets of Govan."
82 mins: Chris Burke's first contribution since coming on for Rangers is an impressive one. In dogged pursuit of Soldo, he sticks out a leg, curls his foot around the ball, wins possession and feeds a team-mate.
84 mins: Fantastic stuff by Burke again. A deep cross from the right was going wide, but he performed miracles to keep it in play, retain possession and then lay it off to Mols on the edge of the six-yard box. Unfortunately, his team-mate showed no such innovation or enthusiasm and was quickly bundled off the ball. Rangers haven't thrown in the towel, but they're very short of ideas in the final third of the field.
88 mins: Stuttgart substitution: Serge Branco for Imre Szabics. Insert your own French rugby joke. Khizanshvili hofofs a long ball down the middle, which Timo Hildebrand gathers comfortably. With Manchester United beating Panathinaikos in Greece, it's going to be a head-to-head between Rangers and the Greek side to see who ends up in the Uefa Cup and who goes out of Europe altogether.
91 mins: A long ball up the centre from Hildebrand. Henning Berg takes possession and surges forward, but is dispossessed by Hinkel. Capucho wins it back and plays a cross-field ball into the left-hand corner for Burke. It's too high and goes out for a throw-in.
Full-time: Peep! Peep! Peep! Full time. Rangers go out of the Champions League. They didn't do too badly considering the number of injuries they had, not to mention the fact that Stuttgart are no slouches either. Whoever gets them in the last 16 will certainly have their work cut out to beat them. Tonight was their 13th or 14th clean sheet of the season. Anyway, that's yer lot. Thanks for your time and your emails.
VfB Stuttgart: 1-Timo Hildebrand; 2-Andreas Hinkel, 6-Fernando Meira, 3-Timo Wenzel, 21-Philipp Lahm; 20-Zvonimir Soldo, 7-Silvio Meissner, 16-Horst Heldt, 15-Alexander Gleb; 22-Kevin Kuranyi, 19-Imre Szabics.
Subs: Heinen, Amanatidis, Gerber, Tiffert, Centurion, Cacau, Branco.
Rangers: 1-Stefan Klos; 2-Fernando Ricksen, 25-Henning Berg, 15-Zurab Khizanishvili, 18-Michael Ball, 21-Maurice Ross, 16-Paolo Vanoli, 27-Stephen Hughes, 20-Capucho, 7-Shota Arveladze, 26-Peter Lovenkrands.
Subs: McGregor, Emerson, Ostenstad, Mols, Burke, Gibson, Smith.
Referee: Manuel Enrique Mejuto Gonzalez (Spain)

[therock67]

Champions League
________________________________________
Celtic 2 - 0 Lyon
Liam Miller 69, Chris Sutton 76

Barry Glendenning
Tuesday September 30, 2003


Alan Thompson snogs Liam Miller

Preamble: The Uefa big cheese other Uefa big cheeses call Le Grand Camembert, Lennart Johansson, steps away from the Celtic Park hospitality buffet for long enough to present his hosts with their Fair Play (You May Have Lost The Uefa Cup Final Last Year But Your Fans Were A Credit To You All The Same, To Be Sure) award. The teams emerge to a frightening cacophony of noise from the capacity home crowd. Teams line up. Fancy music. Handshakes all round. Blah-de-blah.

1 min: After their bad luck in Munich, Celtic must win their Champions League home games frome here on in. It says here. Lyon kick off, Celtic win possession immediately attack. Their early surge forward is thwarted by some stout gallic defending.
2 mins: Jackie McNamara concedes a free-kick just inside the Celtic half when he up-ends Carriere. The free-kick is larruped towards the edge of the box but man-mountain Bobo Balde clears his lines.
3 mins: Hedman boots a goal-kick forward and Hartson does his best albatross impersonation to flick it on. He concedes a free-kick halfway inside the Lyon half.
4 mins: Diarra scuffs a shot along the ground, which finds it's way to Carriere in a dangerous position inside the Celtic penalty area. Luckily for the Hoops, the ball gets trapped under his feet and he is unable to make room for a shot. Lyon are looking the more dangerous of the two sides at this early stage.
6 mins: Scrap that. Good work from Sutton sets up Hartson in the box and the big Welshman stumbles under pressure. The home fans appeal but no penalty is forthcoming. The ball pings off Thompson towards Larsson, whose close range shot is deflected.
8 mins: Lyon win the first corner of the match. Nothing comes of it.
9 mins: Poor defending on Edmilson's part gifts the ball to Alan Thompson about five yards outside the Lyon box. He shoots from distance when he should have perhaps taken on the defender. His pile-driver is deflected out for a corner, which Lyon defend well.
11 mins: After a great build-up which saw five different Celtic players spread the ball to and fro across the field, a weighted pass from Agathe drops beautifully for Sutton. His shot is high and wide. A bad miss. Celtic are retaining possession well in the final third, in the process spreading it around very fluidly and purposefully, particularly courtesy of Larsson, Sutton, Thompson and Hartson. Let's hope their finishing doesn't let them down too often. There's some lovely football being played here.
15 mins: Another great chance goes abegging for Celtic. Thompson does well to gouge a ball Larsson's way, but unmarked on the edge cof the six-yard box, the Swede fails to get hold of it properly and fires a half-hearted attempt straight at Coupet in the Lyon goal.
17 mins: Larsson goes down in the box under pressure from Deflandre. The home fans appeal for a penalty but none is given. Larsson doesn't grumble.
18 mins: Lyon get the ball out of their own half for what seems like the first time in about 10 minutes.
20 mins: A clever through-ball from Alan Thompson almost puts Larsson through, but the goalkeeper just beats him to it.
21 mins: Elber pulls away from Varga and gets a looping header on a wonderful ball over the top from Dhorasoo. It looks as if it's going to beat Hedman, but he contorts in mid-air to push it clear with his finger-tips. A good save, although he was off his line and would have looked a bit of a muppet if it had gone in.
24 mins: A long overdue lull. I don't know where these lads get their energy. Daniel Barron wants to know what I meant in the third minute when I said that John Hartson had done his "best albatross impersonation". I meant that he displayed his incredible wing/arm span and jumped into the air. Then went diving for pilchards and giving sailors the heebie-jeebies. What do you think I meant? Honestly.
27 mins: Celtic win a corner, it's taken short and seconds later the ball finds its way back to the halfway line. I don't claim to be a footballing expert (well, I do actually, but that's beside the point) but if I was a manager I'd substitute any player who took a short corner. I've never seen any good come of one that wasn't in a hockey match. That's field hockey, by the way ... for any Yanks who might be tuning in.
31 mins: For Celtic, Petrov surges forward and is brought down by Diarra, winning Celtic a free-kick in the process. Celtic's big men lumber into the Lyon penalty area and Thompson's free-kick falls beautifully for Hartson on the corner of the six-yard box. His header isn't meaty enough and is planted straight into the arms of Coupet in the Lyon goal. Another good chance spurned, although in fairness he had to get down good and low to get his forehead to it.
34 mins: Lyon win a free-kick about 30 yards out to the right of the Celtic penalty area. Edmilson and Juninho stand over it and the latter sends a vicious up-and-under looping over the wall. Hedman gets across the goal well to claim it. Good effort. Good goalkeeping.
37 mins: The mysteriously monikered DMcI has mailed in to enquire where I get my drugs. Like I'm going to tell him. Larsson gets a nudge in the back. In. The. Box. Penalty for Celtic.
39 mins: Alan Thompson shoots from the spot. Coupet saves. Needless to say, he was several yards off his line as the ball was struck and the referee, in the interests of worldwide inconsistency, does not order it to be taken again. Not that Thompson should need a second bite of the cherry. What is it with Celtic and penalties?
42 mins: Paul O'Sullivan has mailed in to bleat about the fact that French television is not showing this match. "They're showing Moanco against AEK Athens," he says. "There's probably about 4,000 spectators and the members of the Monaco Royal Family who aren't (this bit deleted due to a marked reluctance on the part of your reporter to get sued for libel by Prince Albert, Princess Stephanie et al) or getting remarried or both." Miaow.
Half time
Half-time hockey/ice hockey monologue from a disgruntled Canadian: Phil in Winnipeg has mailed in to pick over the bones of my 27th minute suggestion that Americans might not know the difference between ice hockey and field hockey: "Americans can't grasp ice hockey, field hockey or football/soccer," he confirms. "Recently, a US broadcaster tried to make ice-hockey easier for Americans to watch by digitally enhancing the puck so it glowed and had a tail when shot. Truly pathetic. If the Yanks can't see a black puck on white ice how are they going to find weapons of mass destruction in the desert?" A fair point, Phil, but surely weapons of mass destruction also glow and have tails when they're shot. I'm equally sure that, given their deep mistrust of everything Canadian, the Yanks will probably send some your way someday soon and you can mail and tell us what they look like before you're vapourised.
45 mins: On ITV1 at half-time, Gabby, Andy and Robbie were too busy discussing how far off his line the Lyon goalkeeper was when Thompson took his penalty to show us whether or not Henrik Larsson had taken a dive to win it in the first place. My first impression was that he got a little shove, but judging by some of your emails I could well have been mistaken. You're a very astute bunch consdiering you can't actually see the match. Celtic get the second half underway.
46 mins: Petrov does well to keep a volley of sorts down low, but it goes straight to Coupet in the Lyon goal. He was offside anyway, so Lyon get a free-kick.
48 mins: "Why can't Celtic sort out this penalty nonsense?" snaps a frustrated Edward Emerson.
50 mins: A lot of faffing around in midfield, which is my way of saying that I've managed to let the first five minutes of the second half bypass me completely. I'll start concentrating again now. Sorry about that.
51 mins: Agathe pelts down the right wing and hoists in a speculative cross. There's no Celtic player in the Lyon box to greet it however and his effort is cleared.
53 mins: With a trademark chest-down, big Johnny Hartson lays the ball off to Sutton who finds Thompson. Several passes later, the ball finds its way back to Hartson who uses all his strength to make room for a shot. He wins a corner. It's swung in and bounces off Edmilson's knee. Hartson, Martin O'Neill and 60,000 Celtic fans appeal for handball and are outraged when they don't win a penalty. I'm not sure why, because even if they got one there's no better team to miss it.
56 mins: With their fans roaring them on, Celtic press Lyon. Elsewhere in this group, Anderlecht have gone a goal up against Bayern Munich. Which is good for Celtic and good for those of us who've had a little bet on Anderlecht to do the business tonight.
58 mins: Handsome Stanislav Varga has a pop from distance. His shot is what Ron Atkinson would call a "Hollywood ball". Moments later, Larsson brings a smart save out of Coupet with a thunderous close-range shot. It's all Celtic at the moment.
60 mins: Agathe and Coupet go for the same ball inside the box. The Lyon goalkeeper spills it but the referee doesn't penalise the Celtic man. On his backside on the floor, Agathe can't react quick enough to capitalise on the loose ball. Celtic are all over Lyon, but will they score?
62 mins: Lyon substitution: Essian for Carriere. Celtic substitution: Liam Miller for Hartson. And hats off to Ciaron in Tallaght (Dublin) who not only had a tenner on Thompson to score first at 12/1, but also predicted that Miller would replace Hartson in the 65th minute. So close on both counts. That's a shame.
66 mins: Neil Lennon sends a low, hard screamer fizzing past the foot of Coupet's right-hand post. Wrong side of it, unfortunately. "It is always so entertaining to read emails written about how stupid we Yanks are in regards to football (and now hockey) and war-mongering," writes a peeved Jeff Slater. "Thank goodness I am too busy cleaning my guns in preparation to invade Canada, and watching baseball to notice anymore. I suppose it is a way for the Canadians at least to feel like they are in some way superior considering they are nothing more than a satellite state now anyway." Ouch.
68 mins: Lyon have been on the back-foot for so long that I don't think Magnus Hedman's had a touch of the ball yet in the second half. Lyon are sticking 10 men behind the ball and seem content to soak up Celtic's pressure. Not any more though because ...
69 mins GOAL! Celtic 1 - 0 Lyon All 5ft 7" of Irish 22-year-old Liam Miller jumps into the air and buries a Henrik Larsson cross from the left wing with a smashing header. It was the 25th touch in an uninterrupted succession of passes strung together by Celtic players, he types, adjusting his very thick spectacles while zipping up his anorak.
72 mins: Diarra whips in a beauty of a cross from the right wing, which Balde dives full length to head for a corner. It's taken and Thompson immediately concedes another one, which is cleared. Amid all these shenanigans, Lyon throw on another striker: Lyindula for Dhorasoo.
75 mins: If results here and in Anderlecht stay the same, all four teams in the group will have three points each after two rounds of games. Celtic are already starting to sit back on their lead here. Lyon hadn't had a sniff of their goal before Liam Miller scored, but are now doing all the attacking.
76 mins: GOAL! Celtic 2 - 0 Lyon That's put me back in my box. Twice. Just as Bayern Munich equalise in Belgium, Henrik Larsson retains possession on the left-hand side of the Lyon box before dinking a perfect ball onto the head of Chris Sutton. His header gives Coupet no chance.
80 mins: Diarra appears to elbow Sutton in the face and both players get booked. I'd have given both yellow cards to the Lyon player, myself.
81 mins: Celtic have worked very hard tonight and are well worth their two-goal lead. They're showboating now, passing the ball around as if in a training session, with the capacity crowd Ole!-ing every touch.
83 mins: This from John in Manhatten: "I can cope with smug London media types slagging off the USA, but not the bloody Canadians. You can keep your socialized healthcare, your SARS, your god awful ice-hockey (a far worse sport even than American footie). Toronto is shite, Montreal is full of idiot underage American frat boys and the rest a lifeless tundra."
84 mins: Sutton sprints to the near-post to get a glancing header on a Petrov inswinger. Close, but no cigar.
86 mins: Despite their lead, every single Celtic player is busily chasing every ball, however fruitless the pursuit. Lyon win possession and Elber gets a low shot on goal that Hedman saves easily.
89 mins: The rare sight of Lyon sweeping forward is interrupted by an interception from Bobo Balde. Sutton goes down with cramp, which is hardly surprising as he's run his feet into stumps tonight. There's been some superb individual performances on the Celtic side tonight, which have all added up to one big, fat, juicy collective effort.
90 mins: The referee blows his whistle for full-time and the Celtic players - knackered to a man (with the notable exception of their goalkeeper) - troop off the field to a standing ovation. In Belgium, Anderlecht and Bayern Munich have drawn one apiece. A lot done for Celtic ... more to do. That's your lot for tonight, thanks for your time and your emails.
Teams:
Celtic: Hedman, McNamara, Balde, Varga, Agathe, Lennon, Sutton, Petrov, Thompson, Larsson, Hartson.
Subs: Douglas, Gray, Sylla, Petta, Maloney, Kennedy, Miller.
Lyon: Coupet, Deflandre, Edmilson, Muller, Reveillere, Govou, Diarra, Dhorasoo, Juninho, Carriere, Elber.
Subs: Vercoutre, Essien, Malouda, Luyindula, Sartre, Berthod, Viale.
Referee: Eduardo Iturralde Gonzalez (Spain)

[bandage]

Had read of few of these before - working my way through them again - and they're quality. Their cricket over by over reports are superb too especially for the Ashes last summer and the two times my missives were published as part of the reports were the 2 proudest moments of my life!

[iamthelaw]

Yes, they're class, am again feeling I rushed into my one exalt/smite of the night (no I'm not staying up another hour)

[steamboatsam]

iamthelaw said:

Yes, they're class, am again feeling I rushed into my one exalt/smite of the night (no I'm not staying up another hour)

Law, i note you made this post at 3.06am - what's the jackanory with that, are you an insomniac? or is it the extent of your addiction to the freekick.com?

[iamthelaw]

steamboatsam said:

Law, i note you made this post at 3.06am - what's the jackanory with that, are you an insomniac? or is it the extent of your addiction to the freekick.com?

The latter is definitely the case anyway. Think I might have said it before but Thank God I've no internet in work at the moment.

[whyohwhy]

They're very good, yer man is some legend. "Orcs" arf arf

At least this post will bring this thread back up to the top where it belongs.

[bandage]

My over by over debut from the Ashes last summer. The great Seán Ingle quoting me (have changed my name obviously). A proud day indeed:

An exquisite cover drive from Flintoff brings up the 250. He then steers Warne through midwicket and, for the first time in his Test career, his batting average is now higher than his bowling average. "I went into the pub here in Dublin after work yesterday evening to find a load of lads watching the cricket - guy in a thick Dublin brogue goes, 'Once Vaughan goes past fifty he usually goes on to get a big hundred,'" says Bandage (any relation to famous person with same name?) "Wrong he may have been, but worrying for the future of my country nonetheless. There's even been an Ashes sweep in the office. Ed Joyce has a lot to answer for." When that happens, perhaps we should start calling England Great Britain and Ireland instead?