This classic treasure was rescued from a heavily damaged 3.5 floppy disk that also featured some irreverent nonsense on the true meaning of “Modernity”. That particular scholarly construct has profoundly irritated your beloved ghostwriter in a manner beyond what most any wordsmith is capable of withstanding. Recently I came upon a paper that referred to “Liquid Modernity”. We have reached the absolute end of humanity. Should someone refer to “Gaseous Modernity”, all is lost.
The subsequent content was banged out on an archaic dinosaur of a computer running Windows 2000 in an unassuming alcove of the First Floor LSU Computer Lab. All content has been retroactively formatted to comply with standardized template I eventually developed.
While some content was regrettably irretrievable, I personally have made every effort to revive the “spirit of the times”…….Okay…..My Zeitgeist may not necessarily conform to your “Zeitgeist”. You don’t like my Zeitgeist?? I don’t like yours! He/she happens to be quixotic sociopath who insists upon a depiction of the past equivocally halcyon and thus psychologically debilitating. Er..wait…a second. That would be my Zeitgeist. Dammit. Seriously, idealizing and sentimentalizing the past remains the most profoundly stupid ways to approach your inevitable “self” moments. Took me nearly thirty years to slay that tendency, ten to recognize it and twenty to work on it. My next objective shall be to reduce the number of times I ask, “Who am I and what have I accomplished in life?” to a mere twenty six times per hour.
Reviewing the befuddled ramblings of a confused nineteen-year-old 110 Lbs college Freshmen has been interesting, if somewhat unimpressive. Those looking for sparkling turns-of-phrases and trademark wit might find themselves slightly disappointed. Our young, embryonic chronicler clearly had a great deal of growing up to do. He shyly flirts with striking cadence, much in way he cautiously approached striking women. Ultimately however, his sex life at that time provides an apt metaphor for the finished product: rough, utilitarian, and prone to sloppiness.
Oh well. At least one can observe that the kid has potential. How far he has come over the past decade! From an irascible and misanthropic underachieving dreamer forced to contend with a bunch of surly assholes who resent every fiber of his being to….er……..well….perhaps that’s enough narcissistic rumination for now. :):) In all actuality, this constitutes a pleasant opportunity to look back on how it all began. Although some sections have been swallowed by time, what can be verifiably documented is every last line, forever enshrined in a yellow-paged, dog-eared black book. Leafing through this little jewel, I find myself desperately wishing I could deliver my feelings of heartfelt gratitude to all those who placed a bet. It was because of you that this tradition emerged.
As of the early ‘naughts, I had not yet had the privilege of meeting most of you. What truly yanks at my heartstrings concerns the fact that I have not seen, heard from, or the chance to riff with most of the initial participants since we were all a bunch of young fools capable of little other than drinking and bullshitting about how we were to make our revolutionary impact upon the world. Thanks to all of you, wherever on this spinning blue globe you happen to find yourself. The harsh reality of life presents us with a string of challenges. Each new challenge brings with it a new set of worthless cunts that force us to divert our energy and focus. As the rat race drains every drop of our concentrative capacity, those whose company we genuinely enjoyed fade from memory in conjunction with the expanding waistlines, the receding hairlines, and the diminishing faith in humanity that our new tasks bestow upon us. L Thanks to Jan, Mohammed, and Liu. I wouldn’t have kept writing were it not for you guys. Thanks to Thomas, Amidou, and Luis. Way to call in your bets! Thanks to Ping, We-fang, and Ru-Jing! I’ve made new Chinese friends over the years, but I’ll never forget our little “salon” lunches. Thanks to Saleh, Umar, and Fariq. It remains impossible to think about the situation in Tunisia without recollecting you guys, wondering how you’re doing. :)
My first group of international friends. :) I learned so much from you. :) Our time together was far too short, and our ensuing correspondence equally too brief. Though we may never see each other again, your engagement birthed this Sportsbook; a tool that serves to unite all of us globally-minded souls, if only for a few days over the summer. Furthermore, you live forever in my little black book, your names and the pleasant memories attached to them scrawled permanently in the one and only possession I give a shit about should the house catch on fire. :) Miss you. Every single one of you. I hope you’ve found contentment and peace in your lives.
Whew. Now that I’m sufficiently misty-eyed and possessed by the awkward urge to give a complete stranger a passionate hug, I do believe the time has come to set the mood Casey Kasem style. Ahem. The year was 2002. There were some really shitty movies in the theaters. There was some unforgivable crap streaming forth from the radio. Television shows…existed. The hot fashion trend was so useless it’s not even worth mentioning. America was captivated by something that….it later forgot. “The Bayou” burnt down on State Street. :(:( The loss of a solid bar where one can comfortably drown one’s sorrows eclipsed everything else to prove the most seminal tragedy of the year. In spite of this seemingly insurmountable setback, a group of heroic young men braved the dead hours of the sweltering Louisiana night, rising gallantly at 2:30 a.m. in valiant pursuit of the honorable aim of drinking beer and watching football. Let the adventure begin…
Introduction
Greeting to all of those who have lost money with my NFL
Sportsbook,
As of this glorious Louisiana morning, I wish to proffer you a chance to lose even more money on a sport that you barely understand. Since returning from Europe, I’ve relayed the sad anecdote of watching Germany’s 5-0 loss to England during the qualifying stages to anyone too stoned and polite to walk away from me. The pathetic spectacle of my father fighting back tears; the nightmarish scenario of a pub actually running out of beer; the somber editorials of a nation professing to “grieve with” its players.
What, you may rightly ask, can engender such uniformly
radical behavior across a diverse group of adults? In the States it apparently
takes a massive disaster. Elsewhere in the world it’s something much more fun.
To quote the great stadium anthem played on pitches all over the continent,
“The name of the game? FOOTBALL”.
Soccer you say? Fair enough. Whatever your naming preference, this is
the world’s game, and it happens to be a powder keg that will soon set the
planet ablaze. Today happens to be “The Day of the Fair”. Don’t miss out on
this one, Chrono :)
Editor’s retroactive notes:
Awww….such an adorable little infantile tyro. :) The reference to previous NFL Sportsbooks draws subtle attention to a very important truth that I will share with everyone. These words constitute the first time I actively cared about the sport that I’ve come to have a borderline unhealthy infatuation with. Certainly I was a casual fan, but the bulk of my childhood was devoted to being as American as possible. Dudes in shiny shorts kicking a ball across a well-manicured pitch were hardly on the radar. The image I preferred to project was that of a Philly Boy who lived and died by his Eagles, Flyers, and Phils. There were proximate affections as well. Throughout Middle and High School, I vividly recall entire weeks being thoroughly ruined by some insignificant choke job of Gerry Dinardo’s LSU Tigers. Wow. What a difference a few years, a few travels, a few more ditzy ex-girls, and an inescapable plethora of vomit-inducing “Geaux Vitter” signs makes.
I look
back with pride at the couched 9/11 reference. At least I was not so blatant as
to go off on some regrettable tangent. The same cannot be said of the use of
the construct “naming preference.” This shall be the first of many times I
throw up in my mouth. Yes, that would be a “Chrono Trigger” allusion rounding
out the paragraph. J In the precise words of Charlie Murphy, “I WILL
NOT APOLOGIZE!!”
If you’ve never taken the time to watch an entire football
game, I may personally attest that it’s one of the more relaxing experiences
you’ll ever have. No commercials, no screen scrolls, no “game breaks”, and no
sideline reporters. Plus there are flags, songs, and a great opportunity to
swap a few inappropriate ethnic jokes with your friends! Who doesn’t love that?
Most importantly, this summer you’ll have the perfect excuse to wake up in the
middle of the night and immediately proceed to get blitzed. Everyone’s excited!
A story in today’s Gray Lady details the travels of two rabid England fans who
traveled to South Korea…IN THEIR CAR. Even Kerouac wouldn’t have the balls to
stay on the road that long. It’s time to get into the spirit. Kick back, relax,
set the alarm, and let this LSU International Studies Major take you on a
whirlwind tour of the world’s game
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
And so
the seeds were sown. From an ESPN-addicted domestic sports nut who cared only
about the NFL and NHL to an avowed football enthusiast with a penchant for
pedantic lectures on the superior nature of a worldwide sport. J Consider me disingenuous? I
respectfully request that you vacate your position on my nut sack. Katy Perry
once released a gospel album. Douglas Adams once wrote dramatic radio scripts.
You yourself went through so many embarrassing phases during your tween years
that I feel nothing but pity and shame for the very essence of your wretched
and weak character. J People are allowed to change! This young man
finally discovered who he was! He was an LSU International Studies
Major….whatever the hell that means.
First the rules:
For those of you who have bet with me before, I assure you we’re sticking with the same system. We’ll employ standard spread betting with a few modifications. Bet the line. Should the line be met precisely, the bet is nullified. Should you beat the line, you’ll win. For those new to the system, lets go over an example line just for clarity's sake.
Germany vs. USA 
vs. 
vs.
The Line: Germany +2
The Favorite is favored to win by 2 goals. If you bet on
the U.S., there are three ways you can win the bet:
1) USA loses by less than 2 goals.
2) Match is a draw
3) USA wins
Conversely, there is only one way to win if you bet
on Germany
1) Germany wins by more than two goals
Should Germany win by precisely two goals, the bet is a
wash.
Alles Klar? For the initial round, bets between $5 and $25
are taken. Increments of $5 are the way to go. In subsequent rounds, we might
bump it up higher.
OTHER IMPORTANT THINGS TO KEEP IN MIND:
1) Your Bookie takes bets on a FIRST COME, FIRST SERVE
BASIS. The bookie reserves the right to not take a bet when he has a serious
conflict of interest. Send in your picks via phone call or e-mail, and I'll
confirm your booking via e-mail. BETTING CLOSES AT Midnight on the day of the
match
4) A "STRAIGHT UP" bet is just that. Fuck the
lines. Pick your team.
Here are our 32 countries (going from Group A down):
Denmark
Denmark
Yes, these pesky peninsulars have managed to claw and scrape their way into the tournament. L A mere few days after letting Northern Ireland place their qualification is serious jeopardy, they recovered to smack the shit out of the Bulgarian knats that threatened their spot. There exists a buzz around this team newly managed by former captain Morton Olsen. They call them the “Olsen Gang”, after some criminal detective series the likes of which I’m sure makes Tintin look interesting. They should call, them “Olsen Gang” in honor of the fact that practically all of their players are over thirty.
All indications are that the legoliers will perform as
flaccidly as their inadequately protruding peninsula suggests. Nothing to say
here. Let’s move on.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
This
section screams for updates! Over the years the Danish team has been redubbed
“Olsen’s Eleven”…and they still suck. Two topics once chosen to emphasize how
boring the Danish team was have become hot items. Tintin is now the star of a
Hollywood blockbuster and every third video game features Lego figurines. Hmm.
Go figure. Finally, your friendly bookie Vicey still makes the occasional
poorly written and wholly inappropriate dick joke. At least some things haven’t
changed :)
Senegal
Do you know where Senegal is? LSU will send you to Senegal! This would form the cornerstone of my pitch..had the LSU Office of International Programs been smart enough to hire me. :( This team appears in its first ever World Cup and will likely serve as cannon fodder for the European teams.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Aaaaaahhh.
Apologies all around. How humiliating it was to read through these sentences
and know that they had to be kept in. Presumably some early devout Christians
felt similarly when editing the Gospel of Mark. Look at that poor lout placing
himself on the cross and whining “My Lord, my lord, why have you forsaken me?”
Ugh. Such self-pity makes one sick to one’s stomach. Two months after this was
written LSU-OIP did hire me, affording me the experience of my life. I owe
essentially all that I am to that office. There will be plenty more schmaltzy
words for the amazing people I worked with and the brilliant mentors who
stewarded me through in successive years. For now let’s just saying dealing
with international and internationally-minded students while talking with
others about traveling all day was the greatest gig in the world.
A
special shout out to all my peeps from the Senegambian Steppe. Hi to Roger,
Pierre, and Malik. Sorry I knew nothing about your country. I was ONLY
nineteen.
Uruguay
This one time powerhouse hasn’t even qualified for the past twelve years.
Uruguay won two World Cups back when Pele was a mere lad. Over the past fifty years they’ve gradually faded into obscurity, their glory confined to days when a soccer ball was a brown roughly spherical lump of leather. Apparently, this is supposed to be the year they reclaim some respect. A very young team that features a host of top Premiership stars looks to lead the way.
France The defending world champs are back, moody and unpredictable as ever. The word on this squad happens to be that Chirac met with them and was unimpressed with their chemistry. Following this summit, he solemnly remarked that “Life eez shit” took a long drag off a Gauloises and stared intently into a black & white camera for 45 minutes while doing nothing of interest or meaning. Trezuguet, Sagnol, and Cisse are the untested youngsters. 1998 Cup Star Zidane is charged with reining them in.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Bwahaha. The mercurial froggies always provide a reliable
laugh. I took great personal pleasure in realizing that the French political
establishment was inappropriately sticking its fat wine-veined nose into its
club locker room as far back as 2002. Such is the mind of a Gaullist.
“Hmm..it’s now 10:30 a.m. Have I shamelessly intruded upon some contemporary
political issue that has nothing to do with me, my country, or my party in the vain
hope that some geopolitical actors might consider me relevant? No, I believe
not. Thus far I’ve merely focused on doing my job. How disappointing. How could
I have possibly forgotten to brazenly pretend as if I am important force on the
geopolitical stage and hence self-righteously inserted myself into a
conversation that I have no business being in!” Note to Froggies: We shall no
longer refer to it as “The Franco-German Engine” We’ll take it from here. Have
fun with your puppet show :)
Spain
Everything’s later in Spain. The train schedules are mere suggestions. Dinner may take place at any time between 9:30 and 11:30 p.m.. Again, just a suggestion. We may very well eat around 1:00 a.m…..ish. Office hours? We’ll get around to working those out. Appointment times? Eh…what’s the rush? We’ll get to you eventually. A German befriending Spaniards is fated to learn a hard lesson. “Hi guys! It’s 6:34 and I’m at the bar. What? I thought we were meeting at 6:35! Oh..well in that case I’ll just keep drinking.” By the time they show up I’m completely sloshed. :(:(
Accordingly, the Spanish seem to consistently put together a
team that shows up too late. This poor “country” must endure unimaginable
heartbreak every time their clumsily cobbled together team of regional rivals
finally opts to act as a cohesive unit…two games after it might have mattered.
True, they seem somewhat competent on the European stage. Their World Cup
record is uglier than Aznar’s moustache. Fifty bucks says these hombres choke.
Any takers?
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Time to eat crow. Ahem. Felicitaciones. I for one welcome
our new Spanish overlords. All hail the European/World Champions. Cabron, Saluda
el campeon!
Paraguay Roque Santa Cruz plays for Bayern. Keep an eye on this kid. He looks to be the next explosive manifestation of footballer. Trust me…or don’t.
They call these boys “Bafana, Bafana” (The Boys, The Boys). A short eight years after the end of Apartheid, this country has a truly representative team fighting for them. Isn’t that decidedly frigid? They’ll probably finish in last place.
Editor’s retroactive notes:
Er…… “decidedly frigid”? As promised, time to throw up in the mouth. In eight short years they would host one of the greatest WMs ever…and also get eliminated in the group stage. C’mon, boys! Have you seen “Invictus”? They’re basically making fun of you.
Slovenia Now entering the arena… a former YSR on the fast track to EU Membership. A very intriguing country with a very intriguing football team. Evidently they beat out the Ukraine for a spot in Euro 2000. How does that feel, Yanukovich? Sometime during the Protestant reformation this group of Slavs decided they were a people…and now they have a football team.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
In 2004 Slovenia joined the EU as a full member state.
For the first six months of 2008, they presided over the rotating EU
presidency. Türk somehow managed to do a highly competent job of chairing the
council meetings. Eastern Europe: The ultimate mystery. There are these people
that have always existed in the cracks between empires. They have oddly Slavic
sounding names that mix Germanic languages with Greek, Latin, Russian, and
Arabic. Their enigmatic behavior cannot be augured, especially considering they
cleave themselves into ever-smaller ethnic groups. If you understand the
Balkans, congratulations! You are officially smarter than most U.S policymakers
post-Clinton. You’ve also surpassed most EU policymakers and their bewildering
lack of knowledge of what transpires in their own back yard.
Brazil The perennial favorites, it would appear that this squad is too stacked with talent to falter. Ronaldo finds himself at the apex of his powers. Rivaldo appears frighteningly good. We clearly have our favorite. The Samba Kings will not be denied. When the cup is hosted in Europe, they appear to come down with a sudden case of the “fuck-its” Neutral territory is another matter.
Turkey
Hello, working Germans. For those of you unfamiliar with the
history, allow me to facilitate a quick refresher: In 1969 the ever growing
industrial economy of West Germany, itself facing the perils of an
overqualified workforce, came to the conclusion that it might be prudent to
invite Turkish guest-workers to work in factories and on construction sites for
a period of two years. Nearly three generations later, Germany and Turkey are
for all intents and purposes the same country. I welcome my Turkish brothers. They barely qualified,
smacking down a hungry Ukraine side at the last moment. Welcome to Europe :)
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Nearly
ten years later….I still cannot read, write, or even passively think about
Turkey without craving a Döner Kebab. The American Gyros is a paltry
substitute. Döner…Döner…must have…Döner. Anyone wish to guess what the first
week of the “Return to Europe” diet will consist of?
Costa Rica
CONCACAF. This would be the easiest region to qualify from. What is this team doing here? Honduras, Guatemala, Panama, El Salvador, Trinidad & Tobago, Cuba, and the Dominican Republic couldn’t make it. Feel not sorry for those other incommensurate countries. They are but isthmus midgets who wish to think themselves great. The dream ends soon.
The People’s Republic of China
Rujing, I miss you. You were discerningly cute when you spoke of those “fascist insects” known as the Japanese. You were my perfect little Chinese Flower. I miss every facet of your being. I miss your English and your German. May you find everything you were looking for at Uni-KA. Your team hasn’t a chance, but you do. :):)
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Er…perhaps
some explanation is in order. To begin with, Uni-KA is now referred to as KIT
(Karlsruhe Institute of Technology). Secondly, I once loved a Chinese girl more
than I loved my own gentleman parts. Damn. Should you ever find yourself in
love with a symmetrical Asian honey….never walk away. She was intelligent. She
was gorgeous. She was innocent in a way I was never quite comfortable with. So
goes the story of every Asian Affection you are likely to have. Take a page
from Woody Allen. Just do it.
South Korea
One of our two host countries, these “red devils” needed not lift a finger to qualify. Football continues to hang out on the periphery of the Sports scene in Pacific Rim countries. Baseball enjoys better popularity in Japan while the Koreans prefer…fuck if I know….drinking heavily and preparing Kim Chi. The Chinese are busy doping Olympic athletes and the Filipinos can’t shake the fascination with slap fighting. No World Cup has ever taken place so far east before. (Strike up the pan flute music in the background.) Astonishingly enough, no Asian team has ever made it past the group stage (pan flute music rises a few decibels. Subtle indistinguishable Confucion/Buddist/Shinto chanting to be heard).
Who will rise to defend the honor of those from the yellow
persuasion? Who will exhibit the will of the warrior, forever dispelling the
myth that those with slanted eyes cannot kick a round ball? Which oriental
county shall let them hang low (or as low as can reasonably be expected)? The
Koreans appear to be the best bet, armed with their secret weapon: Manchester
United’s hot young commodity Ji-Sung Park. Expectations are high that this team
will break the curse. Okay…the pan flute music in my head may cease now. No,
seriously. I’ve had enough. Yes, you honor me. Knock it off already. STOP IT!!
United States
First the good news: It is simply inconceivable that this team can play anywhere near as horrid as the 1998 squad, which lost three games by decisive margins whilst utterly failing to get the ball anywhere near the offensive half of the pitch. That atrocious assemblage didn’t even manage to generate one single scoring chance. The entire performance was analogous to you picking up the girl for a date and pissing yourself before you got her in the car.
That steaming pile of excrement is behind you forever. No
combination of fiber, protein, and dairy will ever be able to replicate a piece
of shit displaying such volume and consistency. Your team will play better. The
bad news is that envisioning the U.S. getting out of this group proves next to
impossible. The Koreans enjoy the same inherent home field boost that propelled
an anemic ’94 U.S. Squad into the Round of 16. Making matters more difficult,
the European giant Portugal appears impassable. Pick up your slingshot and with
it your hopes of slaying Goliath. Merely know that Jewish fables tend to be…what’s
precisely would be the rhetorical device I need here…ah yes…I found it above: a
load of shit.
Let me tell you a bit about your players. Cobi Jones is the
final holdout from an era during which American Soccer players were judged by
their quirky looks and eccentric grooming styles instead of their talent. Thank
God Alexi Lalas is gone. You won’t miss him. Claudio Reyna plays for Manchester
City in the premiership and looks to be a fine mid-field general. Demarcus
Beasley, who plays for Glasgow Rangers, joins him giving you some real speed
and talent to drive the ball forward. Brian McBride is your lead striker and
best player. He’s a hulking, powerful forward who used to play in England and
might yet return. Beyond that, you’d do well to concentrate on the U.S. Women.
They won their World Cup in 1999…and are the real soccer stars in America.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
A twenty-year-old Landon Donovan was also on this team and scored a beaut of a breakout goal late in the third group match. How bittersweet to review the optimism with which I viewed Reyna and Beasley, who proved to be nothing short of absolute garbage on the international pitch. Many will recall that the U.S. Team did remarkably well this year, reaching the Quarterfinals before succumbing to a superior German Squad in controversial fashion. This happened to be the summer that that gave birth to the now infamous “Sam’s Army”, giving the rest of the World fabulous grounds to laugh at how overwhelmingly stupid the U.S. can be. :)
Portugal
Carefully study the following names: Luis Figo, Sergio Conceicao, Nuno Gomez, and Hugo Viana. This, American fans, shall be the reason you are going nowhere. They call this team the Navigators, after Prince Henry. Isn’t that cool?
Poland
Much like Der Führer in Woody Allen’s “Zelig”, I wanted to tell a good joke about Poland, but was rudely interrupted by some imbecilic presence. In my case, some chick from my English class decided to saunter on by and now I’ve forgotten everything, L I think it had something to do with East Prussia. Oh well. Anyway, as fate would have it, the Poles will not be able to advance without first defeating the Germans. We all now how well that typically works out..
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Bah-ha. The poor poles L Europe’s
punching bag. In 2002 they were forced to sit in a group with the Germans. In
2004 they didn’t even qualify for Europe after the Latvians decided that even a
former SSR could kick the piss out of them. In 2006 they reclaimed their pride
and qualified for the World Cup….only to have to sit in a group with the
Germans. They mustered up enough strength to qualify for Euro 2008…only to have
the luck of the draw place them in a group with the Germans again. After
returning to the Warsaw Airport with head in hands, thy once again salvaged
what pride they could and embarked upon their 2010 Qualification Campaign. Both
the Czech Republic AND Slovakia sodomized them down to near last place finish.
When will it end? As hosts of Euro 2012, the Poles have automatically
qualified. They’ve drawn the Russians. Yeah…I’d say it’s about the Ruskies turn
to smack that bitch up.
Germany
Glorius fatherland!
“Einigkeit und Recht und Freiheit,
Für das Deutsche Vaterland,
Danach lass uns alle streben,
Brüderlich mit Herz im Hand
Einigkeit und Recht und Freiheit,
Sind des Glückes Unterpfand
Blüh im Ganze dieses Glückes,
Blüh deutsches Vaterland!”
Yes, I would love to brag about my team. J
Unfortunately the reality is much gloomier. We barely qualified with a bunch of
misfits led by a coach with the worst facial/cranial hair combination ever. Say
what you will, Voeller looks like a clown. Marco Bode and Oliver Bierhof are
proven veterans. The remainder of the cast is a bunch of inconsistent novice
nobodies. Honestly don’t see us going very far.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
If you don’t remember who the hemorrhaging fuck Marco
Bode and Oliver Bierhoff are, don’t feel to bad. I can barely recall their time
on the pitch either. Among those “novice nobodies” I mentioned were Michael
Ballack, Christoph Metzelder, Miroslav Klose, and Torsten Frings. They all
contributed amazing performances, propelling our beloved Mannschaft all the way
to the final. This was the summer that the DFB realized that young standout
stars were the key to creating a team that will always make the quarterfinals.
Alright. To be honest old man Beckenbauer didn't truly learn this until 2004,
when they brought back too many of the old hares and embarrassingly didn’t get
past the group stage. Since then we’ve all been satisfied. All we demand is
satisfaction. Semi-finals or you're fired. Period.
Republic of Ireland
Hail, hail the Micks are here! This tiny and disproportionately influential little isle all too often fails to qualify. Thanks to them we’ll be treated to names like Quinn, Keane, Dunne, Morrison, Kelly, Duff, McMurray, and O’Brien this summer! They’ve never made it past the group stage and expectations are low. Nevertheless, who doesn’t love a Guinness or a cozy Irish Pub? Alright. I must admit to something that would lead me to crucified by some of my best friends I did not like “The Boondock Saints”. It was a great movie until we learned that the “animal” in prison was actually the boys’ father. What a cheesy twist to end on.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Why have I chosen to be so hard on myself? This negative
review of “The Boondock Saints” was both poignant and prescient. Bear in mind
this was BEFORE I heard of the documentary “Overnight”. This was BEFORE I came
to the conclusion that Troy Duffy was a douche bag after listening to him on
the Adam Carolla Show. This was BEFORE I was cognizant of the fact that Sir.
Duffy elected to name his posse/followers “The Syndicate” Fuck you, Troy. I
happen to have a real “syndicate”. I identified them as such based on ACTUAL
bets. Also, “Boondock Saints II” was even worse than “Another 48 Hours”. Suck
my fat Aryan cock, Irishman.
Cameroon
Africa’s best football club joins us once again. Of all the Dark Continent sides in this tournament, I reserve the highest hopes for the “Indomitable Lions”. They play gorgeous football and are rumored to be poised for a semi-final run with this crew. Fronting the team is former Karlsruher SC trainer Winifred Schäfer, who I’m told pulled off a masterful job casting a European wide scouting net. He’s collected a group of top pros all at the pinnacle of their form. This team should prove a treat to watch.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Kerrrsplat.
What a flop this team turned out to be, in both this and subsequent years, I’ve
lost more money on Cameroon than any other African Nation. Apropos lost money,
where exactly did this amateur football fan and inaugural bookie get all of his
“inside information” from? The entire piece is rife with tacit allusions suggesting
I had been conferring with experts in modestly lit betting parlors. Well…I did
study a bit and can recall trying to read up. The inception of this particular
“tip” was a drunken hobo I ran into in a Karlsruhe Park. Oh, yes. I knew what I
was doing! Presumably the only lesson one can glean from this pertains to the
fact that it may be ill-advised to buttress analysis based on the slurred
opinions of an unkempt and foul smelling vodka-sot in a Karlsruhe park…but I’m
simply not prepared to go that far yet. In a post housing-bubble economy, I’d
sooner trust a Penner to help me diversify my stock portfolio.
Saudi Arabia
Also joining us is this anachronistic and primitive kingdom that supplies us with oil, hookahs, and terrorists. A nation of repugnant and putrid man-children will be cheering them on. (Women are not allowed to watch the matches….or drive…or vote….or go out in public without male relatives for fear of exposing a sexually provocative ankle that might potentially force a man to have impure thoughts.) Prolonged sigh. In light of the events of the past year, I find it fairly reasonable to assume that God/Allah is on extended holiday. Such a shame considering He would be the only one to prevent these imbeciles from humiliating themselves.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Hmmm….now
that I find myself an older, more culturally sensitive man with a few Saudi
friends, perhaps the time has come to issue some retractions. Ahem. First, I
regret not going into further detail about your deplorable human rights record.
Second, “imbeciles” was decidedly too weak a word. Finally, it was
irresponsible to imply that God/Allah may actually exist, when we all know that
you base your malevolent suppression not on some divine truth, but on the
patriarchal superstitions of a bunch of primordial barbaric savages with whom
you share in common a lack of intelligence and a preponderance of ego. Now
where was I? Right. I just lost both of my Saudi “friends.”
Look.
Even a bleeding heart cultural pinko such as myself must stand somewhere. Here
I stand, feet firmly in the 21st Century. Come have a drink with me
and I promise I’ll listen without interrupting. That does not mean I’m prepared
to agree with bigotry, or bondage, or executions/mutilations in accordance with
some bullshit religious code developed by a bunch of hypocritical fucktards who
obtained their authority from an invisible lie. Put in a slightly more clichéd
way, to hell with tolerating your useless intolerance. Apologies to my Arab
friends. I know it sucks to have some outsider wave his spuriously
sanctimonious finger in your face with everything else you have to deal with.
By all
means continue your internal debates and bring about progress internally. Who
doesn’t applaud the democratic reforms in Saudi Arabia? Free local council
elections! A promise of female participation in five years! All you’re doing
has been done without direct outside interference and you will be the ones to
herald progress yourselves. In a very specific sense, my quarrel is not with you,
but with all the ditzy little self-entitled self-professed budding “female
cultural scholars” I cannot seem to seem to stop encountering. Oh yes. In the
process of claiming their niche as the new revolutionary thinkers in already
crowded subjective humanities fields, they are prepared to argue…for their own
subjugation. “Perhaps I shouldn’t be allowed to dress slutty,” they say
“Perhaps their culture has something to offer us.” Yikes. You know what? Why
are we fighting? Let’s put them all in burkas, shut them the hell up, and move
on.
Sweden
Don’t laugh. The Swedes are stwacked and swet to shwoot their way to the swemi finals! Okay, that was so lame that there simply isn’t enough pot in Mexico to make that funny. This notwithstanding, the Swedes are a force to be reckoned with. Team Captain Fredie Ljunberg is one of the best players in European Football. Few give this team a chance, since they share a group with England and Argentina. Conventional wisdom dictates that England will choke and Sweden will roll on.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Fredie
Ljunberg now enjoys a comfortable retirement playing in MLS here in the United
States. He is joined by other geriatric has-beens Thierry Henry, David Beckham,
and Brian McBride.
England
Even if you know nothing about football, chances are you know who David Beckham is. The English captain and Manchester United striker has earned all honorifics for his almost superhuman set pieces strikes. Together with fellow midfielder Paul Scholes, this team appears invincible when presented the opportunity to kick the ball from the spot. Michael Owen and Emile Heskey are the young strikers who are said to be erratic. One might say the fate of this team rests in the amount of fouls its pitch players are likely to draw. Sounds too risky to me.
Argentina Here’s my pick to win it all and I’ll tell you why. With home-field advantage virtually nullified in Asia, either Brazil or Argentina will win this thing. Such was the case the last two times the World Cup was held on “neutral ground”
1986-Mexico (Argentina wins)
1994-USA (Brazil wins)
After studying the history of this tournament, I’m fairly
certain that European ground will always produce a European winner and South
American ground will likewise abide by this rule. When the tournament is held
on “neutral” ground, the spontaneous improvisational style of the South
Americans wins out over the more mechanical European technique.
The European game relies heavily on lateral movement. Play
is spread out with the ultimate objective of feeding the ball out to the wing.
This leaves little room for the astounding individual play, where one
exceptionally talented player dazzles, breaking four or five tackles to make a
sparkling individual run and opening all sorts of options. When playing on
European soil, EU players are able to “feed” off the energy of the crowd and
unleash such impromptu plays. The South Americans live for such moments and are
less impeded by thoughts of strategy and tactical spread.
I hereby christen this the “EU-Wing Theory” and declare that
I confidently support Argentina in this tournament. They have an awesome team,
led by captain Juan Sebastian Veron. He happens to be the true Manchester
United Superstar. Watch and see.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Holy
Shit! If I may humbly request a moment, the screwing back of my eyeballs into
my skull is an exigent matter! I had completely forgotten about this nascent
construct and never brought it up again. The “EU-Wing Theory” is obviously a
play on Bill Simmons’ famous “Ewing Theory”. At this time, Simmons was the only
columnist I read religiously and my head swam with all his magic fingers
produced. I remain a steadfast Simmons Apostle and would melt in the same
manner he did when meeting Lary Bird should I ever catch a glance of him in the
flesh. What makes this passage worthy of a tangent is that we may now
quantitatively assess this theory to ascertain if it had any merit. True, Spain
smashed the whole hypothesis to pieces in 2010, along with Germany and Holland.
However, the unusual appearance of Uruguay in the Final Four plants a lingering
seed of doubt. Following an inevitable Brazil win in 2014, I eagerly anticipate
the 2018 Russian and 2022 Qatari tournament. Those back-to-back “neutral
ground” contests will climactically determine whether 2010 was an aberration or
not. Will Europe or South America prevail? I can scarcely believe how excited I
am to witness my 39th birthday!
Nigeria
The “Super Eagles”. What an irresistible name! Pure Green. Oh, I love it. This team has reached the Round of sixteen both in ’94 and ’98. It is tempting to think that they might do so once again. Alas, they find themselves in the “Group of Death” England, Argentina, and Sweden. Hope springs ephemeral.
Mexico
Hossa, Hossa! How good are the Mexicans at soccer? Really? If you find yourself flipping through the cable channels in search of a station that will make you laugh with a poorly produced telenovela….you might be tempted to deduce wrong. They’ve only reached the quarterfinals twice. Both times the tournament was held on their soil. Tell the Mariachi band to play something a little more low-key.
Italy
I’m supposed to be from here, but simply cannot believe it. I lived in Rome during the 1990 World Cup, the one the Germans eventually won. Without question it was the worst year of my life. I hate these people. My father and I went on vacation in Italy a few times, and now I REALLY hate these people. They walk around in a circle, chatting on their cell phones about absolutely nothing while a couple of German guys sit back and watch the whole sordid spectacle, aghast at how dense a bunch of beautiful women can be. Fuck this country. I learned a new word recently: “Wop”. You’re all a load of greasy wops. Dago wops. GUINEA, DAGO, WOPS!
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Tears
well up. Look at the little boy, discovering his first hateful slurs. J Sniff. This may be the first
time I typed the word “wop”. Oh, how precious. :) This needs to be printed out
and framed. :) Since first acquiring this word, I have been
positively unrelenting. My hated for you greasy, overly dramatic, woefully
immature, sacks of Mediterranean shit has not diminished one iota since I
learned that you may be cut into little cubes of olive-oil scented nothingness
with my tongue. May Mario Monti drag your country into turmoil whilst Mario
Draghi stomps on what’s left of the ECB. I fucking hate you people. I’d happily
round you up for free red-wine bitching sessions and then send you straight to
the gas chamber. Should anyone possess the gall to point out that I have
committed to hating at least 50 percent of myself, allow me to counter that I
would consider that progress. :) Ciao!
Croatia
We arrive at the people who cannot quite decide whether they are Yugoslav or European This newly established nation stunned everyone in 1998 by making it to the semi-finals and winning the third place match. The mere prospect of predicting their run in this tournament makes me want to run to the union and grab a candy bar. Okay…I’m back. Still no clue.
Ecuador
I think I need another candy bar. We have our first World Cup debutante! They’ve never been here before and I don’t know what to say.
Japan
Manga. Video Games. Hentai. Soft-core porn. Japan has given us so much. The other day I found myself derailed by the thought that American youths have unwittingly been influenced by the hard work of Japanese peons from last generation. Yes. Swirl that around for a moment.
Belgium
Though this team has attained the title of “Red Devils”, I prefer to call them the “Brussels Sprouts”. Beyond Bruge and Anderslecht, there exists no perceptible reason to give two shits about Belgium football…let alone the country itself. Douglas Adams once bleatingly fictionalized an instance in which Belgium was the most obscene intergalactic insult. Good for him. I cannot expect to top that.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Reading
the notes on the past four countries, memories surface of the dank LSU computer
lab, smelling faintly of removed asbestos. This young writer was desperately
pushing the pedal to the floor, unequipped to deal with the reality that he was
running out of gas. As I recall, he began to wonder what he was doing typing up
something that no one would ever read. His thoughts turned to his youth,
feasibly better spent getting high and laid. Against all odds he produced some
farsighted and judicious words about Belgium; the current world record holder
for longest period after elections that a coalition was actually formed. Eight
fucking months. Iraq occupies second place with seven. Have we some idea of how
futile this state is?
Russia These are not you’re grandfather’s Soviets. They’ve done significantly worse since they ceased being a doping nation. In spite of this there is cause for optimism among the ex-Soviet crowd. The new premier Putin seems adept at his job and the much talked about “Second Cold War” seems a thing of the past. Hell, even Bush looked into Putin’s soul and saw a decent man. Things are looking up on the Eastern Front. Within a few years we might have a functionally capitalist society! I’m excited to watch this team!
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Dear
lord! You want Zeitgeist? A 2002 mentality something that you’re interested in?
“New guy Putin seems adept at his job”?!? “Within a few years we might have a
functionally capitalist society”?!?! This is….this is fucking incredible! Now I
must locate all of the NYT editorial pieces that led me to such conclusions.
Microfiche here I come. Don’t look back they say. Fuck that. Look all the way
back to see what asinine geopolitical comments you made. Look ALL the way
back!!
Tunisia
“A Night in Tunisia”. After I’m done writing these lines I absolutely must go home and listen to “A Night in Tunisia”. Miles takes care of everything. He even stopped my cat from crying…which is why the cat’s name is “Miles”.
