July 11 - 2008

Transfer rumors are so much better when sub-titled to scenes from Downfall. NSFW, if you have folks  reading over your shoulder.

July 10 - 2008

Via Unprofessional Foul and CNN:

Referee Sergei Shmolik was helped off the field with back pain while officiating a Belarus league match, but later was shown to be drunk.

And the next time anyone asks, “have you been drinking?” I’m definitely going with, “No, bad back.”

July 10 - 2008

Yep. Wayne wants it known that if you peel back his skin to reveal bone, you might find the following inscription:

“Just Enough Education to Perform”

Now, you might be thinking, “Hmmm. Somewhat clever.” Until, of course, you realize that “just enough” is actually “none at all.” England, you see, makes sure their footballers don’t bother with stuff like education. After all, how much education do you need if you’ re built like the Incredible Hulk and can kick a ball straight?

And anyway, it’s an album title from Wayne’s favorite band, Stereophonics. No, they aren’t good - unless you think it would be totally awesome if the Black Crowes and Audio Slave united and developed welsh accents.

But the real victim here is Colleen. Her chav-for-life not only got a “freeze-this-moment-in-time” band tattoo, he also entered the dangerous territory of “medical tattoos.” I can imagine worse choices, but still.

July 5 - 2008

You pretty much get carte-blanche for celebrating a Euro victory, and far be it from me to tell the Spanish what to do with their scalped jerseys…BUT: there are probably more respectful ways of marking your territory than conga-lining the post-game interviews. Like peeing under the door of the German locker room, or something.

July 3 - 2008

You might think it impossible be to shocked by the behavior of Joey Barton. “All the cigar-stubbing, pants dropping, and training ground-beating has pretty much sapped my ability to register surprise,” you say. Well, feast your eyes on the recently released CCTV footage of Barton’s infamous McDonald’s Christmas Assault. Or preserve your faith in humanity, and don’t.

Newcastle have been in the running for my support: if they don’t sack Barton purely on the madness captured in this clip, they will BE no longer.

July 2 - 2008

Watching a Euro final from the ruralest of rural America can alert one to some fairly significant conlusions…a few of which might even be about football. A sampling:

• For all the talk of the lumbering German center-backs, was that really what undid Germany?  How ’bout the fact Michael Ballack couldn’t control a midfield populated by diminutive Spanish gnats.
• In Sweet Home, Oregon, one can decry skyrocketing food prices even if one is 100-150 pounds overweight. This can be done without irony. Actually, anything can be done without irony, as it has yet to be discovered here.
• Spain, newsflash, are the best team in Europe. Coincidentally, they also won Euro 2008. And that’s why no one is complaining after Sunday’s final. The best team won, and don’t it feel right.
• My mother-in-law is obsessed with disinfectant wipes; Lysol, Clorox, and Windex have apparently cut out the paper towel middle-man, and now deliver their poison straight onto a wipe. She has the fuckers stashed everywhere. All this fretting about bacteria, and yet this is the same woman who gladly purchases ‘Manager’s Special” meat that is past the sell-by date. And it just hit me: maybe she wipes the meat.
• Germany had enough dead-ball opportunities to level the score, but the Germans forgot how to strike a ball. Thomas Hitzelsperger, a ball-striker extrordinaire if ever there was one, looked like Jeff Agoos
• .. Schweinsteiger’s technique wasn’t much better. The point is probably moot, however, as Casillas showed that he handles crosses better than any keeper in the world. Petr Cech is lining up tutoring lessons as we speak.
• My step-father-in-law took me fishing, and didn’t let me handle a fishing pole. Not once. He claimed it had to do with licensing, but it rang of bullshit. I can’t wait to invite him to a strip-club, then leave his ass in the car.
• Was there a team in the tournament who might have given Spain a serious hassle? Yes, and their name is Portugal. The ‘Geezers have the individual skill to match the Spaniards, and the Iberian fire to rile them up past their comfort zone. David Silva’s little head-nudge against Podolski turns into a
• Torres brushed Lahm aside for the game-winner. Lahm can now brush aside any notion of himself as a world-class defender.
• I fed a donkey yesterday.
• Ooohh, did Andy Gray become tiresome or what? I was excited to hear from Gray for the first week, then kind of ignored him, then became downright annoyed. Using super-slowmo to pick apart player’s technique should land you in some third ring of hell where you’re forced to watch, and critique, super-slowmo clips of pogo mishaps.

And so it’s on to Idaho - I’m sure that will be better. When does the Prem start again?

June 28 - 2008

Well, he’s locked up a profitable tournament - par, really, for the Czech man. To make things interesting, we’re giving him a $20 mythical wager on the final (he now stands at $141.78). Let’s see if he can close.

18-12: pretty damn good, if I do say myself! Should be an entertaining final, and I’m still pondering my pick as I write this. By the way, I watched Portland play Carolina in a USL matchup on Friday. Has anyone watched one of these games lately?? Well, it’s quite fast, out of control, and a strange mix of some really good players and some really bad ones. But the most interesting aspect of the game was when one of the announcers compared a relationship between two of the Portland players to that of Podolski and Schweinsteiger. WHAT? That guy do crack before the game?? Onwards….

(more…)

June 29 - 2008

Today, I will awake to the smell of elk steaks and biscuits. I will roll out of the hide-a-bed and into the kitchen. The sounds of Good Morning America blaring from a 21-inch TV will greet me. I will successfully deny a morning whiskey shot. I will attempt to deny, then be forced to accept, a Red Eye - half tomato juice, half beer. I will suck it down dutifully, wincing with every salty sip. Elk, biscuit, Red Eye…Elk, biscuit, Red Eye…

A pre-Eurofinal ritual? Nope. I won’t even see the game. I’m on family “vacation,” visiting the in-laws in a small logging town in the mountains of Oregon. “Sweet Home,” they call it. “Football-less prison of cultural dystopia,” I call it.

Not all is lost, however - an uncle with TiVo is recording the match while I’m fishing with “step-dad” (and by “fishing” I mean drinking heavily while pretending to listen to theories on lure choice and water temperature). With luck, I’ll be watching kick-off about the time fish guts are being mixed into “Nana’s” rose garden with a rototiller. Soon after, I hope to learn the answer to some pressing questions:

• Is Cesc Fabregas a more than adequate replacement for David Villa? If yes, and he steers the Spanish ship into the winner’s circle, does that make him the second best player in the world? It sounds a bit audacious, but I invite you to recall his abbreviated performances in this tournament and come up with another choice.
• Or is Michael Ballack the second best player in the world? He does nothing to pull the strings of my heart, but he is in top form. A performance tomorrow could cement his status as an all-time German great.
• Is Lukas Podolski a true flanker, or an out of position striker? One more good performance changes his position forever, and massively increases his transfer value.
• Is Marcos Senna the most underrated player in the tournament? That one is already a yes, but it’s always nice seeing opinions validated.
• Can I make it through ten minutes tomorrow without being called “soccer fag,” a “soccer pussy,” or a “gay soccer pussy?” Probably not. And definitely not considering my impending decision to wear a v-neck t-shirt and straw fedora on the fishing trip.

Enjoy tomorrow, folks - it should be a treat. The football, that is.

Update: Looks like Ballack won’t go. Sorry, immortality.

Update, Update:  Ballack did go…nowhere.  Nice cut, though.

June 25 - 2008

Lukey’s Russia pick was one of the most inspired selections in recent memory, if not one of the most historically ironic - who backs their former invaders? Can you imagine Ivan the Pole getting behind Nazi Germany? Or “Wind In His Hair the Sioux” placing bets on the US? Hard choices, my friends.

Those hard choices, though, have Lukey living in Profitsville: $147.58 to be exact. Let’s see what he has in the way of semi-final action.

Last time I Czeched, I was 17-11. I’m still baffled by Turkey and how they have survived this long, and yes, the Czech loss still stings. Frankly, I just can’t endorse Turkey against the Germans. Am I really to bet on a team coached by a dude that looks like a used camel salesman? I think not.

Really, it’s been quite a miracle that they have survived this long, and although I admire their fight it ends here. The Germans were great against Portugal, attacking football by the team that everyone considers so “efficient and robotic”. No more Turkish luck here, it’s nothing but brats and Becks from here on out….Achtung: Germans win!!!

Wow, how good were the Russians; what a pleasure to watch! By the way, my second experience of soccer in Chicago was great - never thought I’d be cheering on the Russians but there I was, going nuts as I watched Arshavin take apart the Dutch, as predicted. I really think Holland were a bit overrated and so it’s difficult for me to tell how good Russia really are. The biggest mistake you can make in betting is to let your emotions have a part in your decision making - not going to happen folks. Russia are young, fit, gifted, and attack with reckless abandon. And did I mention they have arguably the best player in the tournament? I’m on Russia again…Russia win…RU-SI-A, RU-SI-A, RU-SI-A!!!!

June 24 - 2008

Little over a day out from the semis and my quarterfinal buzz still hasn’t faded. Russia have stolen my heart, Germany and Spain have earned my respect, and Turkey have caused me to question the true nature of the cosmos. Honestly: Have you ever seen anything like their comeback against Croatia? I haven’t.

I know nothing of Turkey. I know nothing of Turks. And whereas I usually rely on ethnic stereotyping to explain success (”Those Germans - so efficient!”), in the Turk’s case I’ve got nothing.

Therefore, we might have to come up with some actual reasons why Turkey are able to continually fashion improbable victories from certain defeat. If you will:

• They know they are bad. As a result, they seem totally prepared to weather long stretches of the game in which the ball rarely leaves their own penalty area, let alone their own half. They don’t fray at the edges under the pounding, and they don’t turn on each other - they just take the abuse. Once the other team lets up, Turkey don’t even need time to regroup; they transition seamlessly from poundee to pounder.
• They hit the ball on target. From what I can gather, Turkish children split their time equally between prayer and finishing drills. I’d be surprised if there were another team at Euro 2008 with a higher proportion of shots on goal. When they get chances, they make good.
• They are fit. You can’t produce last minute heroics without legs under you. In every match, Turkey seem as lively in the final moments, if not livelier, than they do in the first moments of the match. In the Czech Republic game, the Turks literally looked like they could go another hour, while the Czechs were over it after 80 minutes.
• They are desperate. All but twelve of Turkey’s players are now injured, suspended, or both. The result is an “all hands on deck” mentality that places the survival of the team above all else. Just fielding a team is an exercise in courage.
• They pursue the ball. Sorry. Couldn’t resist.
• They don’t quit. Painfully fucking obvious, I know, but Turkey really do believe that the game should be played to the final whistle. Watch the replays of the Croatian goal celebrations: those guys won, the game was over, and they knew it. Luka Modric was elated, collapsed to the ground, and started thinking about the semis where they would face a team they had already beaten. Slaven Bilic was ready to do some drugs and bang some metal groupies. Croatia was in the dressing room. Turkey? They were looking to get the ball forward. And score.
• Their coach, though needing to fasten a button or two, has his players ears. Scorer of two game-winners now, supersub Semih Senturk said of coach Fatih Terim, “Our coach treats every player like he is their father…When he comes to me he says ‘just play football, I know your talents’. He is the best coach I have ever worked with.” That level of respect can squeeze every last drop out of a performance.

That’s a start. And while I don’t have any stereotypes to fall back on, I do have wikipedia: it says that Turkey have been fighting with Greece for over 1000 years. Apparently the national hatred runs deep enough to cause Turks to, even today, youtube low production value hate-videos with atrocious spelling and Smurf-techno scores. Maybe it’s hatred for the Greeks that gives the Turks that extra push against their opponents. Regardless, it’s been a fun ride, but I’m betting the machine like, scat-porn loving Germans end this Turkish fairytale.