You would think the English, of all people, would have taken the principle lesson from Beowulf and that is, of course, to avoid hubris. But they thought it was a done deal after Israel's incredible win over Russia last weekend that they would qualify for EURO 2008 and the discussion turned immediately to "Wow, Steve McLaren is vindicated" and "Ohhh, will Beckham be selected for the tournament?" and nobody considered that, without Terry, Owen, Rooney or humility, the team was surely doomed.
Skybet had the English side as 1/10 favorites to win today, with a 4-1 win given equal odds as a 2-2 draw. Hubris, and I knew I should've taken those bets but we live in a puritan society where betting online is akin to child porn as far as ethics and so on are concerned. Otherwise, I'd be a rich man because I really thought England were dooming themselves to humiliation by being so sure of themselves.
And, they faced massive humiliation. Not only losing, but losing to Croatia. Going down 2-0 in 14 minutes. Coming back to tie, and the thrill and relief that comes with it. Having that utterly devastated just 12 minutes later. Just, completely blowing it. At Wembley. Beckham stuck on 99 caps. I mean. The destruction and embarrassment is almost too much. The English not qualifying for EURO is one thing, but the English not qualifying is such thorough, horrific style. I mean, my God.
Now. There will be some clamoring for the placement of foreign player limits in the Premiership. Or, I guess, there has already been a lot of clamoring and now the clamorers will likely win. This will not raise the level of the English national team, of course, but it is natural and easy to blame their terrible performance on the big bad Africans and South Americans and Eastern Europeans instead of on their own selves. The truth is, not enough English players are good enough to play for the Big Four and probably not even the top 6 or 7 clubs in the Premiership. This is not a flaw of the league, of course, but rather a flaw of England. All a foreign player limit does is lower the quality of football being played in the sport's mother country, by filling the clubs with lesser players who happen to have the right kind of parents. In fact, the top level English players are exceptionally lucky that they have a passage into such a great league simply because of their nationality. Would Frank Lampard really start for Chelsea if he had been born French, or Peruvian or something? I sincerely doubt it.
A bigger idea is to try and send more English players to the leagues on the continent. The concept that a National Team is irrevocably tied to the Domestic Leagues of its country is laughable in today's football. Even Italian players are leaving Italy at this point, and the English should follow.
In a world where a foreigner limit is imposed in England, The Big Four would have to field line-ups with the likes of Gareth Barry, Paul Robinson, James Milner, Dave Kitson. I mean, there's this weird idea that the level of the Premiership is static no matter who plays there. This is just basically, obviously not true. Imposing the limit would not make the English national team any better, but it would definitely make Arsenal, Chelsea, Manchester United, and Liverpool worse.
11.21.2007
11.13.2007
A Cynical Era
We are living in a cynical era. Nobody believes in hope anymore, or the American dream, except old people. I wonder, has it always been only old people who believe in the American dream? Is the whole thing based on nostalgia? Is the idea of a bushy-eyed 18-year-old being sent off by his extended family to fight in some extremely just war because he believes in the Stars and Stripes Forever a myth? Was there ever such a thing as food rationing, fireside chats with the President, 4th of July parades and stickball in the street? Obviously life was never like Leave It To Beaver but was it, at least, ever like The Sandlot? Or are these things just lies and bizarre fantasies passed down from generation to generation? I'm tempted to believe that since the 80's are now being propped up as a time of great goodwill and apple pie and so on rather than a time of gas gouging and Noriega and giant multinational corporations sucking the life out that fireside chat bullshit. I talk like this, and I'm a capitalist! I (heart) Giant Multinational Corportations and I loath Fireside Chats, but I still act with angst about the 80's. As I said, we live in a cynical era.
I spoke earlier about Jerry Rubin, though, and Didier Drogba. So there must be some line in the sand that I draw regarding greed. I think $$$ is super-duper and I applaud the pursuit of it, but there is something disgusting and perverse about ex or current revolutionaries parading around with their wallets bulging. I can't put my finger on it, but I can say quite surely that Che Guevara was a lot more Rockefeller than Zapata, and if that wasn't true when the butcher was alive, it is certainly true now. Felicitaciones, Castro, you pig. You've managed to profit wildly on the idea that $$$ is evil. Lived the American Dream, in that sense. But why is Castro or Che a great hero and someone like George Steinbrenner or Roman Abramovich is a great villain? Or that Thai slaughter fiend who bought Man City this year? He's a bad guy, I'm pretty sure. If the Mullahs in the Taliban had come with a load of cash and bought up Coventry City, would we as a people have allowed that? In the name of tolerance and open-mindedness? Even if they'd made the players wear veils? And would that be okay? I wonder.
The question of capitalism v. socialism, especially as it pertains to sports, is a curious and interesting one. One of the only things you could legitimately claim improved under Castro's regime is the performance of Cuba in international athletic competition. Their baseball team is as good as any in the world, including the US and Japan, and they regularly pump out boxers and swimmers and runners that sweep up at the Olympics and Pan American Games and so on. Cynics would point to how well Soviet athletes performed as compared to their Russian counterparts and say, well, every athlete in Cuba is an amateur so it's not really a level playing field. The Cubans would say it dilutes the purity of sport if athletes are performing for lust and avarice rather than the Love Of The Game. And, as much as our Democratic sensibilities are offended by this, we kind of agree, don't we? As a people? We yearn for the days (which, incidentally, never happened) when people played solely because they love the game and not because it was possible to make loads of cash. We look at greed-heads like Alex Rodriguez and Kobe Bryant and we hate them and say they destroy the innocence we're trying to recapture by following their games. We loath the Yankees and Chelsea for buying championships. We mourn the collapse of Shoeless Joe (who was playing in that love-of-the-game era, but nevermind that) and Pete Rose to the powers of personal gain, and especially its influence when your alternative is chivalry.
According to the company line, there would never be a Shoeless Joe or Pete Rose in Cuban baseball because there's no opportunity for Profit. In reality, Livan and Orlando Hernandez and Jose Contreras are Cuba's Pete Rose. Because, you see, what our innocence means to them is almost absolutely nothing. And it shouldn't. It shouldn't mean anything to El Duque if I am offended by his desire to make his living while he lives. Because the truth is, love of the game or no, El Duque was confronted with a clear choice. Continue to live in Cuba, play for the love of the game, viva la revolución, blah blah blah and also die on a filthy, poverty-stricken island with no hope for making a better life for his family. Or, he could abandon mantras and abstractions like "innocence" and "purity" and opt for some of the real comforts of life by becoming a multi-millionaire almost instantly. Realize, the professional life of an athlete is cruelly short. And his own life is much more important than your idea of purity. So, this is why I always support Cuban refugee athletes. I think they're doing the Right Thing.
However, this doesn't excuse the likes of Drogba and I'm sure my reasoning is intellectually unsound. If someone in the inner city, say, brings it on themselves to get an education and starts a business or something, we applaud it. If the same person makes the same $$$ in gangs or crime syndicates, then they're a shame and a Bad Person. To me, signing with Chelsea even if you didn't want to (as Drogba claims to have done in a recent interview, even saying he hoped he failed his physical so the deal wouldn't go through) is about the same as hustling to feed your family. So, hell, we can be pro-$$$ and anti-corruption, can't we?
This was well too scattered to be a proper essay on the subject and well too organized to belong here. I'll do better next time! Suerte.
I spoke earlier about Jerry Rubin, though, and Didier Drogba. So there must be some line in the sand that I draw regarding greed. I think $$$ is super-duper and I applaud the pursuit of it, but there is something disgusting and perverse about ex or current revolutionaries parading around with their wallets bulging. I can't put my finger on it, but I can say quite surely that Che Guevara was a lot more Rockefeller than Zapata, and if that wasn't true when the butcher was alive, it is certainly true now. Felicitaciones, Castro, you pig. You've managed to profit wildly on the idea that $$$ is evil. Lived the American Dream, in that sense. But why is Castro or Che a great hero and someone like George Steinbrenner or Roman Abramovich is a great villain? Or that Thai slaughter fiend who bought Man City this year? He's a bad guy, I'm pretty sure. If the Mullahs in the Taliban had come with a load of cash and bought up Coventry City, would we as a people have allowed that? In the name of tolerance and open-mindedness? Even if they'd made the players wear veils? And would that be okay? I wonder.
The question of capitalism v. socialism, especially as it pertains to sports, is a curious and interesting one. One of the only things you could legitimately claim improved under Castro's regime is the performance of Cuba in international athletic competition. Their baseball team is as good as any in the world, including the US and Japan, and they regularly pump out boxers and swimmers and runners that sweep up at the Olympics and Pan American Games and so on. Cynics would point to how well Soviet athletes performed as compared to their Russian counterparts and say, well, every athlete in Cuba is an amateur so it's not really a level playing field. The Cubans would say it dilutes the purity of sport if athletes are performing for lust and avarice rather than the Love Of The Game. And, as much as our Democratic sensibilities are offended by this, we kind of agree, don't we? As a people? We yearn for the days (which, incidentally, never happened) when people played solely because they love the game and not because it was possible to make loads of cash. We look at greed-heads like Alex Rodriguez and Kobe Bryant and we hate them and say they destroy the innocence we're trying to recapture by following their games. We loath the Yankees and Chelsea for buying championships. We mourn the collapse of Shoeless Joe (who was playing in that love-of-the-game era, but nevermind that) and Pete Rose to the powers of personal gain, and especially its influence when your alternative is chivalry.
According to the company line, there would never be a Shoeless Joe or Pete Rose in Cuban baseball because there's no opportunity for Profit. In reality, Livan and Orlando Hernandez and Jose Contreras are Cuba's Pete Rose. Because, you see, what our innocence means to them is almost absolutely nothing. And it shouldn't. It shouldn't mean anything to El Duque if I am offended by his desire to make his living while he lives. Because the truth is, love of the game or no, El Duque was confronted with a clear choice. Continue to live in Cuba, play for the love of the game, viva la revolución, blah blah blah and also die on a filthy, poverty-stricken island with no hope for making a better life for his family. Or, he could abandon mantras and abstractions like "innocence" and "purity" and opt for some of the real comforts of life by becoming a multi-millionaire almost instantly. Realize, the professional life of an athlete is cruelly short. And his own life is much more important than your idea of purity. So, this is why I always support Cuban refugee athletes. I think they're doing the Right Thing.
However, this doesn't excuse the likes of Drogba and I'm sure my reasoning is intellectually unsound. If someone in the inner city, say, brings it on themselves to get an education and starts a business or something, we applaud it. If the same person makes the same $$$ in gangs or crime syndicates, then they're a shame and a Bad Person. To me, signing with Chelsea even if you didn't want to (as Drogba claims to have done in a recent interview, even saying he hoped he failed his physical so the deal wouldn't go through) is about the same as hustling to feed your family. So, hell, we can be pro-$$$ and anti-corruption, can't we?
This was well too scattered to be a proper essay on the subject and well too organized to belong here. I'll do better next time! Suerte.
11.08.2007
Baseball & Politics, for Real This Time
Okay. Now that evil Rangers have been dispatched into the wilderness by the mighty goodness of Barcelona, we can get back on track. And that is, as promised, some thoughts on baseball and politics.
The big news, obviously, is steroids steroids steroids but let's be clear that none of that shit matters. Athletes have been taking drugs since there have been athletes and any self-righteous old-timer who thinks he did it the right way because he didn't inject HGH in his ass between series when he was, instead, hopped up on amphetamines to get by on those awful, cruel day games right after night games is as delusional as he is hypocritical. And, I'm not saying I'm talking about Hank Aaron, but who else could it be? At least Willie Mays, maybe the biggest speedfreak this side of Abby Hoffman, has the balls to stand by Barry Bonds, swollen head and all, while he shatters the record of the aforementioned Hammerin' Hank. If anything, I'd say, these old players might have the right to be disappointed that their drugs weren't as potent or useful as the ones Bonds, Giambi, et al have been ingesting. But any kind of moral outrage is obscenely hollow and short-sighted. These people are Liars or, worse, Naive. Someone should do something.
The real weirdness in the whole steroid thing is that humans are willing to risk everything for something as arbitrary as the home run record. If someone had found copious amounts of horse growth chemicals swimming around the coked-out skull of Ken Caminiti's carcass and said to themselves, "This would definitely be an appropriate price to pay to win the 1996 NL MVP," then I would have to disagree. But there are loads of folks who evidently do think that the lesson from Mark McGwire is less "It is a bad thing to embarrass yourself and your family in front of Congress" and more "Man, wasn't 1998 awesome?!" The Mitchell Investigation is about to name names, and there will be 11 current free agents on the list. No word on whether that includes Mike Cameron, who is already suspended for the first 25 games of next year for abusing some banned substances, or at least not knowing how to use a Whizzinator. We can run down the list of people who've actually been busted for steroids and think that they were all pretty likely targets. Troy Glaus? Obvious. McGwire, Canseco, et al, very obvious. But what about Wally Joyner and Lenny Dykstra and Jorge Piedra and Marvin Benard and Bobby Estalella? I think those are pretty good counterpoints, myself, but what the hell? The world needs a good witch hunt now and again, and since commies are all eradicated and all the Terrorists are being swung up on hooks and beaten like piñatas at Gitmo and Siberia or wherever, who better than Major League Baseball players? Do you hear that, Julio Lugo? We're coming for you, and we're pissed!
The freakshow of the primary candidates for the Presidential Election is another reasonable topic, although I'm a little worried I have nothing to say about them. The Republicans have sent out a whole host of folks who sounded like good candidates in 2004, but this is karmic revenge for selling their souls and probably asses to Karl Rove and BushCo for the last 8 years. You could have Big Bird and Mr. Rogers run on a platform of "Smile, everybody!" and they'd still lose if they ran as Republicans. Even if they promised to make Gandhi the Sec. of State and Orville Redenbacher the Sec. of Yummy. They're doomed.
Well, they should be. The Democrats aren't as good as they look, and if that's not a thought that sums up the Democratic party as a whole, I don't know what is. Clinton is a weird, fiendish matriarch, like an old schoolmaster out of a Dickens novel, only with a little bit better haircut. She said in a debate that Washington lobbyists represent ordinary Americans, and this was a good hint that she's been eating too many mushrooms out of the Capitol's staffer stash or, I fear, maybe she is just very very stupid. She doesn't seem too stupid, though, does she?, so mushrooms is the only logical conclusion. Nevertheless, a bunch of howling idiots support her candidacy, maybe because they're anxious to have a little more estrogen on the evening news. Ah, who the fuck am I kidding? No one watches the evening news. And Hillary would add about as much estrogen to the party as Bill did. To her credit, though, that's far more than has been emitted from Corazón Aquino, Margaret Thatcher, Andrea Merkel, et al. So, good luck with that. After she and Obama (possibly a decent man?), the crowd gets thin. Any liberal who's all pumped about the field of candidates this year would do well to remind himself that Joe Biden is the one that makes the most sense in the debates and then would do well to downgrade the tequila and rum he drinks to things a little more like rubbing alcohol in both flavor and lethal tendencies.
What freaks. The best possible scenario is a Clinton/Giuliani match-up where Bloomberg runs as an independent and Ron Paul carries his internet support to get his 5% for matching funds in 2012, even though it won't matter by then because nobody will win a majority, it will go to congress, who will fight it out for several years before turning it over to the Supreme Court. Then it will get ugly. I suspect Nancy Pelosi will take Clarence Thomas and Anton Scalia hostage and torture them in her horrible basement dungeon every night until they swear under oath that the Constitution is a living, breathing document. Just as they emerge, though, they'll all be killed in a hail of gunfire by a resurgent Tom DeLay, who will then install a grotesque and grisly Dick Cheney, since wounded heavily in the chariot races that Sitting President Charlton Heston instituted on the Mall (reflecting pool paved over and made a kind of luxury box for Mel Gibson and a raving mob of anti-semites to bet wildly and shout "Crucify Him! Crucify Him!" whenever a Jewish rider or even a circumcised horse runs by) as Emperor For Life. No, of course, I am not wishing Dick Cheney to be instituted as Emperor For Life but it'd be a hell of a lot more fun than what's going to happen, a stupid frontrunner election that comes down to who wins Ohio or, worse, New Mexico.
In closing, Vegas seems to be offering stupid odds on the NBA Championship this year. Hint: a 7 game series is a hell of a lot more fluky than an 82 game season. So, even if San Antonio and Phoenix are the most likely to win it all, and surely the most likely to win the Western Conference, if you can get good odds on decent teams from the Eastern Conference, take them. Figure the 7th best team in the Eastern Conference is more likely to make the Finals than the 3rd best team in the Western Conference since the West is so top heavy. And you can get Washington at 80-1 right now. You're welcome in advance.
The big news, obviously, is steroids steroids steroids but let's be clear that none of that shit matters. Athletes have been taking drugs since there have been athletes and any self-righteous old-timer who thinks he did it the right way because he didn't inject HGH in his ass between series when he was, instead, hopped up on amphetamines to get by on those awful, cruel day games right after night games is as delusional as he is hypocritical. And, I'm not saying I'm talking about Hank Aaron, but who else could it be? At least Willie Mays, maybe the biggest speedfreak this side of Abby Hoffman, has the balls to stand by Barry Bonds, swollen head and all, while he shatters the record of the aforementioned Hammerin' Hank. If anything, I'd say, these old players might have the right to be disappointed that their drugs weren't as potent or useful as the ones Bonds, Giambi, et al have been ingesting. But any kind of moral outrage is obscenely hollow and short-sighted. These people are Liars or, worse, Naive. Someone should do something.
The real weirdness in the whole steroid thing is that humans are willing to risk everything for something as arbitrary as the home run record. If someone had found copious amounts of horse growth chemicals swimming around the coked-out skull of Ken Caminiti's carcass and said to themselves, "This would definitely be an appropriate price to pay to win the 1996 NL MVP," then I would have to disagree. But there are loads of folks who evidently do think that the lesson from Mark McGwire is less "It is a bad thing to embarrass yourself and your family in front of Congress" and more "Man, wasn't 1998 awesome?!" The Mitchell Investigation is about to name names, and there will be 11 current free agents on the list. No word on whether that includes Mike Cameron, who is already suspended for the first 25 games of next year for abusing some banned substances, or at least not knowing how to use a Whizzinator. We can run down the list of people who've actually been busted for steroids and think that they were all pretty likely targets. Troy Glaus? Obvious. McGwire, Canseco, et al, very obvious. But what about Wally Joyner and Lenny Dykstra and Jorge Piedra and Marvin Benard and Bobby Estalella? I think those are pretty good counterpoints, myself, but what the hell? The world needs a good witch hunt now and again, and since commies are all eradicated and all the Terrorists are being swung up on hooks and beaten like piñatas at Gitmo and Siberia or wherever, who better than Major League Baseball players? Do you hear that, Julio Lugo? We're coming for you, and we're pissed!
The freakshow of the primary candidates for the Presidential Election is another reasonable topic, although I'm a little worried I have nothing to say about them. The Republicans have sent out a whole host of folks who sounded like good candidates in 2004, but this is karmic revenge for selling their souls and probably asses to Karl Rove and BushCo for the last 8 years. You could have Big Bird and Mr. Rogers run on a platform of "Smile, everybody!" and they'd still lose if they ran as Republicans. Even if they promised to make Gandhi the Sec. of State and Orville Redenbacher the Sec. of Yummy. They're doomed.
Well, they should be. The Democrats aren't as good as they look, and if that's not a thought that sums up the Democratic party as a whole, I don't know what is. Clinton is a weird, fiendish matriarch, like an old schoolmaster out of a Dickens novel, only with a little bit better haircut. She said in a debate that Washington lobbyists represent ordinary Americans, and this was a good hint that she's been eating too many mushrooms out of the Capitol's staffer stash or, I fear, maybe she is just very very stupid. She doesn't seem too stupid, though, does she?, so mushrooms is the only logical conclusion. Nevertheless, a bunch of howling idiots support her candidacy, maybe because they're anxious to have a little more estrogen on the evening news. Ah, who the fuck am I kidding? No one watches the evening news. And Hillary would add about as much estrogen to the party as Bill did. To her credit, though, that's far more than has been emitted from Corazón Aquino, Margaret Thatcher, Andrea Merkel, et al. So, good luck with that. After she and Obama (possibly a decent man?), the crowd gets thin. Any liberal who's all pumped about the field of candidates this year would do well to remind himself that Joe Biden is the one that makes the most sense in the debates and then would do well to downgrade the tequila and rum he drinks to things a little more like rubbing alcohol in both flavor and lethal tendencies.
What freaks. The best possible scenario is a Clinton/Giuliani match-up where Bloomberg runs as an independent and Ron Paul carries his internet support to get his 5% for matching funds in 2012, even though it won't matter by then because nobody will win a majority, it will go to congress, who will fight it out for several years before turning it over to the Supreme Court. Then it will get ugly. I suspect Nancy Pelosi will take Clarence Thomas and Anton Scalia hostage and torture them in her horrible basement dungeon every night until they swear under oath that the Constitution is a living, breathing document. Just as they emerge, though, they'll all be killed in a hail of gunfire by a resurgent Tom DeLay, who will then install a grotesque and grisly Dick Cheney, since wounded heavily in the chariot races that Sitting President Charlton Heston instituted on the Mall (reflecting pool paved over and made a kind of luxury box for Mel Gibson and a raving mob of anti-semites to bet wildly and shout "Crucify Him! Crucify Him!" whenever a Jewish rider or even a circumcised horse runs by) as Emperor For Life. No, of course, I am not wishing Dick Cheney to be instituted as Emperor For Life but it'd be a hell of a lot more fun than what's going to happen, a stupid frontrunner election that comes down to who wins Ohio or, worse, New Mexico.
In closing, Vegas seems to be offering stupid odds on the NBA Championship this year. Hint: a 7 game series is a hell of a lot more fluky than an 82 game season. So, even if San Antonio and Phoenix are the most likely to win it all, and surely the most likely to win the Western Conference, if you can get good odds on decent teams from the Eastern Conference, take them. Figure the 7th best team in the Eastern Conference is more likely to make the Finals than the 3rd best team in the Western Conference since the West is so top heavy. And you can get Washington at 80-1 right now. You're welcome in advance.
11.07.2007
Politics and Baseball will have to Wait
Because, at the risk of sending the whole thing spinning into a spiral of hellish, hubris-biting hexation, Barcelona are currently sending Rangers a strong message about who is who in Europe. I don't necessarily agree with Leo Messi that Rangers played anti-football in their first match in the Champions League, because if I was Rangers and I was welcoming the Catalan attack machine into my home, I would probably forget all about offense and hunker down in pursuit of a 0-0 tie myself. Because the strike force of Messi, Thierry Henry and Ronaldinho is as dangerous a weapon as has ever been unleashed in the world of club football (I would even say it is better than the Argentinian trio of Messi, Carlos Tevez and Hernan Crespo but maybe not quite on par with the Brazilian threesome of Ronaldinho, Robinho and Kaka) and the only reasonable thing for a B-list, sectarian, blood-thirsty, drunken Scottish clusterfuck club like Rangers to do is dig into the trenches, put everybody but Cousin in the box and hack away at the knees of the glorious invading forces. Sure, they did what they had to do.
But, when they come to the Nou Camp, they can forget all about defending themselves because it is impossible. Also-rans like Rangers have no choice but to stand gawking at the majesty of the Barcelona kingdom and just enjoy the sights and sounds of the thing and hope that Stuttgart beats Lyon. (They probably won't. They're down 3-1 right now.) So, Henry sent a clear message in the 6th minute and that message is, "Fool me once, blah blah blah, fuck you Rangers." That Messi, the lightning fast 20-year-old, with his anti-anti-football would slot one in right before the half is just about perfect, in terms of demonstrating that while Rangers may have won the battle at Ibrox, they never had any chance of winning the war and they never will.
I would say Barca fans are kind of spoiled, since Henry and Ronaldinho have both been the target of some extremely unjust speculation and hearsay this year, but we deserve to be because rooting for Barcelona is rooting for everything good in the world. Someone has to stand up to the fascist influence of Real Madrid, and counteract the juggernauts of the world with some beautiful 40 yard passes and a shirt that is sponsored by UNICEF instead of a phone company or somebody. Not that Barca don't have $$$, but you have to, and they spend it on players who mean something revolutionary, instead of players who make the cover of Four Four Two. The truly depressing thing is when Barca-style players sign with Madrid, because even good and radical freedom fighters sometimes sell out for the safety and comfort of Big Business. Just look at Jerry Rubin. Or Didier Drogba. This summer, when all the talk was of the golden-boy Kaka moving to Madrid, it couldn't have happened for the same reason the Penguin can't beat Batman, except for dramatic effect. Kaka may be playing for the Mafia at AC Milan, but that's a long way from playing for Franco and his Fascists in Madrid in terms of amorality.
Anyway, loving Barcelona is the same as loving beauty and truth (all ye need to know) and so when some crossbow-firing, vitriolic hate machine like Rangers engages in savagery to keep the good things of the world from victory, we know that's Not Right. And, sometimes the cynics among us believe that things that are Not Right happen all the time and that's just the way of things, but other times, Barcelona gets their revenge by popping in 2 against the supposedly impenetrable Rangers defense before the half, and then maybe there's reason for hope.
I don't necessarily mean that Barcelona winning today means we're entering a golden age of an Obama/Paul ticket winning the white house, or an eradication of sectarianism worldwide, but it's a start. Of course, the game's not over, and the Champions League is a long and grueling fight that still has oligarchs and fascists and mafiosos and gangsters and thieves alive and well, so, like El Pipila says, Aún hay otras Alhóndigas por incendiar. Look it up.
But, when they come to the Nou Camp, they can forget all about defending themselves because it is impossible. Also-rans like Rangers have no choice but to stand gawking at the majesty of the Barcelona kingdom and just enjoy the sights and sounds of the thing and hope that Stuttgart beats Lyon. (They probably won't. They're down 3-1 right now.) So, Henry sent a clear message in the 6th minute and that message is, "Fool me once, blah blah blah, fuck you Rangers." That Messi, the lightning fast 20-year-old, with his anti-anti-football would slot one in right before the half is just about perfect, in terms of demonstrating that while Rangers may have won the battle at Ibrox, they never had any chance of winning the war and they never will.
I would say Barca fans are kind of spoiled, since Henry and Ronaldinho have both been the target of some extremely unjust speculation and hearsay this year, but we deserve to be because rooting for Barcelona is rooting for everything good in the world. Someone has to stand up to the fascist influence of Real Madrid, and counteract the juggernauts of the world with some beautiful 40 yard passes and a shirt that is sponsored by UNICEF instead of a phone company or somebody. Not that Barca don't have $$$, but you have to, and they spend it on players who mean something revolutionary, instead of players who make the cover of Four Four Two. The truly depressing thing is when Barca-style players sign with Madrid, because even good and radical freedom fighters sometimes sell out for the safety and comfort of Big Business. Just look at Jerry Rubin. Or Didier Drogba. This summer, when all the talk was of the golden-boy Kaka moving to Madrid, it couldn't have happened for the same reason the Penguin can't beat Batman, except for dramatic effect. Kaka may be playing for the Mafia at AC Milan, but that's a long way from playing for Franco and his Fascists in Madrid in terms of amorality.
Anyway, loving Barcelona is the same as loving beauty and truth (all ye need to know) and so when some crossbow-firing, vitriolic hate machine like Rangers engages in savagery to keep the good things of the world from victory, we know that's Not Right. And, sometimes the cynics among us believe that things that are Not Right happen all the time and that's just the way of things, but other times, Barcelona gets their revenge by popping in 2 against the supposedly impenetrable Rangers defense before the half, and then maybe there's reason for hope.
I don't necessarily mean that Barcelona winning today means we're entering a golden age of an Obama/Paul ticket winning the white house, or an eradication of sectarianism worldwide, but it's a start. Of course, the game's not over, and the Champions League is a long and grueling fight that still has oligarchs and fascists and mafiosos and gangsters and thieves alive and well, so, like El Pipila says, Aún hay otras Alhóndigas por incendiar. Look it up.
11.06.2007
Sunday Afternoon is the new Friday Night
I do not like American Football but I know it. This is an advantage when it comes to betting, because I have no emotional attachment to any Team or Player. The only exception to this rule is a vicious and brutal hatred for the Dallas Cowboys and New England Patriots, but I bet on both of them on Sunday and won, so the lesson is clear.
I gave 2-1 on the Patriots and 5.5 points on the Cowboys and I was confident enough to have doubled either bet, which almost came back to bite me with New England but never with Dallas. Hubris got the best of me in the Cowboys/Eagles game, though, because I gave 28 points when they were up 38-10 and lost what I would have won on the original bet. So, another lesson learned. One I should've learned from Beowulf but evidently did not.
Zakis felt good about the Eagles bet from the beginning. I offered to double the bet for 10 points after the Eagles went up 7-0 but he wavered and I backed out. I should've known, though. Tony Romo is a movie star and a below average quarterback on a very good team, the Joe Namath of his day, and Wade Phillips is a perpetual malcontent with no history of winning at anything. But the defense, especially the secondary, is a highly trained killing machine. Terence Newman is like the stealth bomber, only more deadly, and Roy Williams is the first player in recent memory to have a whole rule invented to prevent the kind of ugly and efficient slaughter he routinely hands out on hapless backs and receivers. Finally, of course, Terrell Owens is a madman with an axe to grind and if you can't ever really trust him, you should always fear him. Some days, he'll bowl over every pathetic and scared cornerback in the league and some days, he'll try and overdose on pain pills and then blame the whole thing on his publicist or Bill Parcells. I would never suggest relying on him, especially in the long term, but he gives you a pretty good contrast to Romo and Phillips because it seems like the only thing he cares about is destroying everything that's in his way. For his teammates and coaches, this can be deadly, because sometimes he thinks that they are the ones in his way. But, when he doesn't, I don't know what teammate I'd rather have.
I was counting on Owens being in deadly form when I made that 28 point bet with Zakis, who I knew would take it because he's a gambling addict and a man who Likes Football. I don't think he was relying on the shifty apathy of Wade Phillips, but that's what I was wary of, and that's what lost me the bet. This is why the Cowboys will not win the Super Bowl this year. They have the talent, and nothing would make me happier than watching Roy Williams horse collar Randy Moss in the Big Game, but Phillips is a loser and Romo is a maricon. They have No Chance.
Anyway, American Football is unspeakably boring under normal conditions for anyone with the attention span of an adult, but fun to watch if you fill yourself up with enough wine, cigarettes and marijuana and also have some money riding on the thing. I highly recommend spending some Sunday afternoons this way, and if you can find some place that also shows Premiership, La Liga and Serie A matches, then you should be in regular heaven, as long as you don't have any emotional attachments to outcomes. Never Bet On Your Own Team. It is crushing enough to watch your team lose without knowing you will be hurt financially because of it, and it distorts the purity of your team winning if you're partly excited because of Avarice. That's a deadly sin, you know, though I don't think it's one of the commandments. Either way, there's a circle of Hell for people like me, and probably you, but don't worry because there's no such thing as Hell.
What a fun way to start the thing. Maybe I'll talk about the election next, or baseball. Those are, at least, things I care about for some reason besides $$$.
I gave 2-1 on the Patriots and 5.5 points on the Cowboys and I was confident enough to have doubled either bet, which almost came back to bite me with New England but never with Dallas. Hubris got the best of me in the Cowboys/Eagles game, though, because I gave 28 points when they were up 38-10 and lost what I would have won on the original bet. So, another lesson learned. One I should've learned from Beowulf but evidently did not.
Zakis felt good about the Eagles bet from the beginning. I offered to double the bet for 10 points after the Eagles went up 7-0 but he wavered and I backed out. I should've known, though. Tony Romo is a movie star and a below average quarterback on a very good team, the Joe Namath of his day, and Wade Phillips is a perpetual malcontent with no history of winning at anything. But the defense, especially the secondary, is a highly trained killing machine. Terence Newman is like the stealth bomber, only more deadly, and Roy Williams is the first player in recent memory to have a whole rule invented to prevent the kind of ugly and efficient slaughter he routinely hands out on hapless backs and receivers. Finally, of course, Terrell Owens is a madman with an axe to grind and if you can't ever really trust him, you should always fear him. Some days, he'll bowl over every pathetic and scared cornerback in the league and some days, he'll try and overdose on pain pills and then blame the whole thing on his publicist or Bill Parcells. I would never suggest relying on him, especially in the long term, but he gives you a pretty good contrast to Romo and Phillips because it seems like the only thing he cares about is destroying everything that's in his way. For his teammates and coaches, this can be deadly, because sometimes he thinks that they are the ones in his way. But, when he doesn't, I don't know what teammate I'd rather have.
I was counting on Owens being in deadly form when I made that 28 point bet with Zakis, who I knew would take it because he's a gambling addict and a man who Likes Football. I don't think he was relying on the shifty apathy of Wade Phillips, but that's what I was wary of, and that's what lost me the bet. This is why the Cowboys will not win the Super Bowl this year. They have the talent, and nothing would make me happier than watching Roy Williams horse collar Randy Moss in the Big Game, but Phillips is a loser and Romo is a maricon. They have No Chance.
Anyway, American Football is unspeakably boring under normal conditions for anyone with the attention span of an adult, but fun to watch if you fill yourself up with enough wine, cigarettes and marijuana and also have some money riding on the thing. I highly recommend spending some Sunday afternoons this way, and if you can find some place that also shows Premiership, La Liga and Serie A matches, then you should be in regular heaven, as long as you don't have any emotional attachments to outcomes. Never Bet On Your Own Team. It is crushing enough to watch your team lose without knowing you will be hurt financially because of it, and it distorts the purity of your team winning if you're partly excited because of Avarice. That's a deadly sin, you know, though I don't think it's one of the commandments. Either way, there's a circle of Hell for people like me, and probably you, but don't worry because there's no such thing as Hell.
What a fun way to start the thing. Maybe I'll talk about the election next, or baseball. Those are, at least, things I care about for some reason besides $$$.
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