Welcome Again Stateside Betters,
No one cramping up on me yet? Welcome to Part Two of the Summer that shall henceforth be known as “The Season ofDiscovering Your Inner Feminist”. Apart from a disproportionate amount of discussion about cramps, I may blithely declare that these games have been every bit as entertaining as a comparable men’s tournament.
These girls are just as talented. We’ve got blistering long-range efforts/crosses, sublime dribbling, gorgeous through balls, and all the bends, curls, and arcs you’d expect from the top male players. We’ve got phenomenal set piece designs, rivalry, intrigue, and heart. We’ve got….cramps. Okay ignore those and appreciate how beautiful this game really is.
It is only with the greatest hesitation that I don my Women’s
Football cheerleading outfit and directly address some of the concerns sent to
me by some to-remain-nameless syndicate members. Rather than address some
misconceptions about the inferiority of the women’s game, I’d personally much prefer
to present to you my puerile anthology of double-entendres so that we may all
get drunk and snicker We’ll have to get to our licentious fun in a moment as it
occurs to me that one aspect sorely lacking from this experiment is all the
soaring rhetoric about football’s role as a global unifying force.
The absence of over a third of the world precludes such talk. So long as a notable number of nations on the planet treat their women as second-class citizens--or livestock as the case may be--we face a world in which the Eurovision Song Contest is a more all-inclusive and engaging international event than this one. Believe me, no one wants that.
The absence of over a third of the world precludes such talk. So long as a notable number of nations on the planet treat their women as second-class citizens--or livestock as the case may be--we face a world in which the Eurovision Song Contest is a more all-inclusive and engaging international event than this one. Believe me, no one wants that.
I would appreciate it if all the Lena fans spared me their
hate mail. I would further appreciate it if I did not receive any links to
articles concerning “The Proud Tradition of Suppression Female Identity
Politics” (Yes, that means you, Iranians and French Muslims). Finally, I’d
appreciate it if all syndicate members simply bear with me whilst I attempt to
make a point very close to my heart.
I promise we’ll arrive at the Nightclub Act momentarily.
I promise we’ll arrive at the Nightclub Act momentarily.
Misconception #1 –“Women don’t Unleash Enough Long Range
Efforts”
Evidently no one informed Alexandra Popp (at 1:26), Kim
Kulig (at 1:45) or Christine Sinclair (at 2:00). There’s three in one game. How
many Champions League matches have that many?
Sweet Jesus, when is the last time you saw Kaka pull off a
stunner like this one from Monica Ocampo (at 1:03)
Need two more in one game? How about Sandrine Bretigny (at
0:25) and Louisa Necib (at 1:02)
…or perhaps Ri Ye Gyong (1:19) and Alex Krieger (1:48)?
Misconception #2: “Not Enough First Touch/Volley Finishes
in the Women’s Game”
I hope you’re kidding, because Yuki Nagasato (0:25) and
Amber Hearn (0:43) just proved you doubly wrong.
Brazil’s Rosana also has something to say about that (at
1:12)
Misconception #3: “Too Little Urgency/Speed in the
Women’s Game
Check out the dazzling clear off the line from Colombia’s
Natalia Gaitan (at 0:26):
Finally, Equatorial Guinea’s Anonman deserves her own full
highlight reel. When is the last time you saw Nani have a game like this?
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Very
proud of this section. Classy, well sourced, and thoughtful
I rest my case.
These are but a taste of what you’ve been missing should you have elected to
disregard this tournament. Now that we know these girls can play, let me take
off this itchy pantsuit and commence with the callowness. Surely over 16 hours
of intense viewing and possibly as much time defending the ladies over the past
five days have earned me the right to be somewhat ribald.
Allow me to share my favorite “double entendres”. All of these are actual comments by actual female commentators made about actual women, actually punched-up by yours truly. Enjoy.
Allow me to share my favorite “double entendres”. All of these are actual comments by actual female commentators made about actual women, actually punched-up by yours truly. Enjoy.
[after Canadian keeper Erin McLeod punched a corner kick
clear]
“She’s an excellent fister.” –Julie Foudy
Vicey: Hmmm…I bet she is. That’s quite frankly all I need to
know about that.
[after Canadian keeper Erin McLeod made a routine save on a
straightforward effort from Kim Kulig]
“She usually eats those balls up.” –Julie Foudy
Vicey: Now we’re talking! That’s my kind of girl!
[after France’s Louisa Necib unleashed a vicious effort]
“There’s the money shot!” – Cat Whitehall
VIcey: Er….shouldn’t the ‘money shot’ come at the end of the
tournament?
[after every invariable golden scoring opportunity missed
thus far in the tournament]
“She’s having trouble finishing” –Every female announcer
Vicey: Fairly routine football commentary. In most every
match a footballer will miss a wide-open net, sending it over the bar,
whiffing, shooting wide etc. Such standard commentary is rarely worth a second
thought. However, after eight games, dozens of near misses, and approximately
246 comments about women having trouble finishing, I’m beginning to feel as if
this is somehow all my fault. Not entirely sure how many more references I can
take.
This is, of course, the last thing any man wishes to hear. Next time I see a football cutie despairingly placing both hands on her head while entreating the heavens from her knees, I will consider it my ceremonial duty to burst through the screen onto the pitch, cuddle her for a few seconds, and assure her that we can try again in a matter on minutes. Bottom line: Not finishing, not the end of the world.
This is, of course, the last thing any man wishes to hear. Next time I see a football cutie despairingly placing both hands on her head while entreating the heavens from her knees, I will consider it my ceremonial duty to burst through the screen onto the pitch, cuddle her for a few seconds, and assure her that we can try again in a matter on minutes. Bottom line: Not finishing, not the end of the world.
[after an impressive header from Japanese Midfielder Mizuho
Sakaguchi]
“Sakaguchi is all about the head” –Cat Whitehall
Vicey: Duly noted. Nice to see that in a woman these days.
[on the injury to Canadian Captain Christine Sinclair]
“In the women’s game we don’t go down as much” –Cat Whitehall
Vicey: If that’s not part of a woman’s game…perhaps I should
give the whole homosexuality thing one of those patented academic “re-thinks”
[upon entering half-time of the Japan-New Zealand Games]
“Love to be a fly on the wall in those dressing rooms” –Rebecca Lowe
Vicey: My sentiments exactly. Well…I think I’d prefer to be
a showerhead..perhaps a washcloth.
[on the likelihood of substitutions during the last 20
minutes of the Japan-New Zealand Game]
“Fresh legs are at a premium. I would have thought we would have seen some fresh legs by now. [to partner] When do you think we’ll see a new set of legs?”—Beth Mowins
Vicey: If it we’re up to me, as soon as possible. Now please
stop talking tickling my fetish! I actually have some things to concentrate on
today.”
[On the ability of the Japanese Midfield to create space for
the forwards]
“Japan does a great job of sucking all those defenders over until they’re where they need to be.” –Cat Whitehall
Vicey: I should certainly hope so. To quote Bill Hicks, “I
think you’ll know when I’ve had enough.”
[after a blatant flop by Mexico’s Guadalupe Warbbis]
“You almost never like to see women dive on each other like that.” –Kate Markgraf
Vicey: Speak for yourself. I thought that was what the
Internet was for.
[after a botched possession by England’s Faye White in
Space]
“Unfortunately it slipped right through her spread legs and
she’ll be having nightmares about it for the rest of the World Cup.” –Kate
Markgraf
Vicey: Oh come on! Don’t be so dramatic. Her shame will wash
off in the shower.
[On the bold, defensive heading of Ellen White]
“She’s young, naïve and willing to stick her face into things.” –Kate Markgraf
Vicey: I hope I never have a daughter.
[on the need for England to take advantage of the youth of
16-year-old Mexican goalkeeper Cecilia Santiago]
“Great penetration by the English forwards, but you need to put her under harder pressure. She’s inexperienced.” –Kate Markgraf
Vicey: I REALLY hope I never have a daughter!
[On the aggressive play and awesome turn shot of U.S.
Substitute Alex Morgan]
“She wants a sniff. She’ll do anything for a sniff.” –Julie Foudy
Vicey: As would I. Damn good thing smell-o-vision hasn’t
been invented yet as the sultry smell of pheromones emanating from these
gorgeous sweat-drenched beauties would have forced me to seek immediate help
for an erection lasting over four hours. Trust me, those are very
uncomfortable! Give it me…that funk…that nasty….that gushy…enough.
[On the frequent water-breaks during injury intervals]
“The girls will have real problems retaining fluids in this kind of heat.” –everyone
Vicey: No, no, no. You’ve got me all wrong. No snarky
comment about climax and secretion here. I simply have no idea why they keep
emphasizing this! Men sweat. Men have trouble retaining fluids. I’m the
sweatiest creature at the Rec, the most drenched player after every co-ed
match, and so rank after even a light jog that I sometimes take three showers
per day. (All of this may have something to do with the fact that I also cough
up the most phlegm after pretty much any strenuous physical activity).
Nevertheless, I DEMAND TO KNOW IF THERE IS SOMETHING I’VE MISSED. I am not aware of any physiological differences between male and female sweat patterns. Any input from syndicate members in the medical disciplines would be greatly appreciated. No anecdotal evidence, please.
Nevertheless, I DEMAND TO KNOW IF THERE IS SOMETHING I’VE MISSED. I am not aware of any physiological differences between male and female sweat patterns. Any input from syndicate members in the medical disciplines would be greatly appreciated. No anecdotal evidence, please.
[On the importance of the U.S. recovering from first-half
torpor]
“How you ride is incredibly important.” –Judy Foudy
Vicey: Don’t forget the object of the sentence, Judy! Now you’ve
given me the opportunity to remind all women that how you ride is in fact
incredibly important. Specifically, it is important that you position yourself
so that the well-hidden camera can pick up ever last intimate gyration. The
Internet awaits!
[on the parity and comparative low scores in tournament thus
far]
“The games have been tight, the teams appear to be tight.” –Beth Mowins
“I think the reason for the tightness is youth.” –Cat
Whitehall
Vicey: “Young girl….get out of my mind…my love for you is
way out of line.” Don’t look at me! I don’t trust any woman under 30!
[On the laser of a point-blank shot by Equatorial Guinea’s
Anonman on Norwegian Keeper Ingrid Hjelmseth]
“She shoots directly onto her chest!” –Beth Mowins
Vicey: Hmmmmm….at least it wasn’t the eye.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Very
proud of this section. Lewd, spontaneous, and shameless.
Whew! Draining stuff. Anyone else think it’s time to wind
down? From my perspective, I have merely enough vitality left to snuggle up
with the lines and whisper some tactical pillow talk. Let’s get cozy, everyone.
Allow me to stroke your hair and softly speak sweet musings into your ear until
you drift off into a world of tranquil harmony, forever secure in my comforting
embrace. You deserve to be held all night long..
Of course I’ll still be here when you wake up! No, I really
mean it this time! There’s nothing on C-Span I particularly want to watch
tonight. I’ll be here. No…..look….fuck Prime Minister’s Questions….forget about
what happened last time….oh for fuck’s sake….how could bring that up now?
Completely out of context…..she has nothing to do with this! That was only that one time! Now you want to bring my mother into this? That bullshit is all in your head! Oh hell with it. In the words of Samuel L. Jackson, “GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP!”
Completely out of context…..she has nothing to do with this! That was only that one time! Now you want to bring my mother into this? That bullshit is all in your head! Oh hell with it. In the words of Samuel L. Jackson, “GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP!”
All lines are calculated personally by your friendly bookie
Vicey….an eccentric contemporary manifestation of Don Draper. The
correspondence that follows is, as always, crafted with sincere amity for those
who appreciate sharp wit and an extra spot of fun in their day. Should you
prefer solemnity, drama, and conflict… kindly return to streaming “Drive Angry”
on Netflix.
Thursday--------
France vs. Canada
vs. 
Necib and Fillgno…two Barbie girls in their Barbie world. This one is definitively worth watching if only to check out everyone’s new favorite future Penthouse Pet Louisa Necib. She’s been dubbed the “female Zinidine Zidane” over 3,452 times now, presumably because she gives good head. Sorry, couldn’t resist. Anyway, don’t forget Jonelle Filligno and Kayln Kyle on the Canadian side. This looks to be one sexy match up between to irrelevant countries with little to offer beyond grating accents and halfway-decent booze.
Impressive performance by the Canadians, FINALLY cracking
the German defenses and coming on late with some truly impressive play. Always
great to see teams figure things out in the last twenty minutes and catch fire.
It’s the perfect metaphor for that debilitating cycle of tormenting writer’s block
that you finally break out of……twenty minutes before the deadline. While this
piece is lost, confidence carries over….until one of your parents calls to tell
you how disappointed they are in you and you’re stuck again.
That last part absolutely does not apply to this group of high-flying Canucks! Sinclair’s almost instantaneous turnaround from the broken nose to the bending of that fabulous free kick has them energized and invigorated. In spite of the superior flank play of the froggies, it is too difficult to bet against the momentum of the Reds.
That last part absolutely does not apply to this group of high-flying Canucks! Sinclair’s almost instantaneous turnaround from the broken nose to the bending of that fabulous free kick has them energized and invigorated. In spite of the superior flank play of the froggies, it is too difficult to bet against the momentum of the Reds.
Thankfully, my cat Mauser sensed how torn and uncertain his
master was (as is often the case). After going back and forth on this line for
a solid half-hour, I was finally forced to retreat for a contemplative, pacing
smoke break. After this hiatus, I returned to find that Mauser had generously
sat on the keyboard in order to contribute his own thoughts. In addition to
selecting Less Than Jake’s “Short Fuse Burnin’” from the i-tunes, play list he
had the following observations:
“weirafqewrrer32qwersdfowqwefeqcoeqqefwqwfp”
Eureka! Messages do not get any more lucid! We have our
first even line of the tournament. It’s a “pick 'em”, Gentlemen. Fuck Paul the
Octopus! I have a cat brilliant enough to know that there is such a thing as a
split-decision!
THE LINE: Pick ‘em
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
RESULT:
France 4, Canada 0. How the lamentably lacerating fuck did I neglect to mention
that this was a “Colonial Battle”? This was an aggressive rectal examination
from start to finish. The Lady Leafs spent a full 90 minutes ball-watching. For
those unfamiliar with this most egregious of football infractions, it
specifically refers to acute laziness when shadowing the offside trap. Les
Femme Fatales gushed through all afternoon long, a veritable torrent of blue
blood. No other way to cover this spanking than to detail all four of the
pulsating penetrative goals.
We
begin in the 24th. Necib set up the froggy attack with all her
customary flair. Eventually she picked out Bussaglia, whose thumping effort
smacked Emily Zurrer flat on those nose. The Canadian fullback went to ground
immediately and three of her sisters halted their play. As a result, no one was
available to pick up Gaetene Thiney as she headed in the tail end of the
parabolic flight. 1-0 Froggies after the Mounties simply quit playing. A
quarter of an hour into the restart, Zurrer attempted a dangerously foolish
ground combo out of the central backfield.
Thiney disposed of her with the greatest of ease, then blasted in a curling dart from thirty yards that left McLeod without a prayer. Chapman and Matheson might have gotten in the way, but they appeared too busy standing idle whilst they digested what just happened. 2-0 Froggies. Thiney Brace. Canadians once again guilty of doing their deer-in-the-headlights number.
Thiney disposed of her with the greatest of ease, then blasted in a curling dart from thirty yards that left McLeod without a prayer. Chapman and Matheson might have gotten in the way, but they appeared too busy standing idle whilst they digested what just happened. 2-0 Froggies. Thiney Brace. Canadians once again guilty of doing their deer-in-the-headlights number.
The
third tally came six minutes later when Desiree Scott forgot to contest an
aerial service against Camille Abily. The Lyon midfielder rose to meet Sandrine
Soubeyrand’s corner while her Vancouver Whitecaps counterpart remained firmly
rooted to the pitch. 3-0 Froggies after another player inexplicably quit. Necib
angled in a gorgeous cross-field pass for Elodie Thomas in the 84th.
The newly substituted striker zipped past a split defense of Zurrer and Chapman, both of whom overcompensated their directional momentum and didn’t bother giving chase. Thomas flicked it past a desperately oncoming McLeod for the fourth goal. Zurrer and Chapman were already lining up for the kickoff.
The newly substituted striker zipped past a split defense of Zurrer and Chapman, both of whom overcompensated their directional momentum and didn’t bother giving chase. Thomas flicked it past a desperately oncoming McLeod for the fourth goal. Zurrer and Chapman were already lining up for the kickoff.
One
needn’t have been a skilled lip-reader as Erin McLeod mouthed a subdued “I’m
sorry” to any teammate that approached her after the final whistle. This bookie
still wonders what in the hell she was so sorry about. McLeod appeared the only
player on the pitch to be continually trying. Had she not dove face first to
fend off Necib and Marie Delie
late in the first half, this would have been even worse of a rout. Never
stop playing. Even if you have to vomit. Casually blow chunks out of the side of
your mouth if you must. Keep those legs moving!
“Storia
della bellezza – With Umberto Eco Vicey (Part I)
“Umberto
Eco he is not. What’s to stop him from pretending? Here are some thoughts ‘On
Beauty’ from your friendly bookie.”
At
first glance Gaetene Thiney appears relatively plain. While her profile remains
intriguing, the indiscriminate observer will quickly dismiss a frontal shot of
her face for a whole myriad of reasons. Yes, the overall width of her face
almost belies a subtle symmetry that tends too far toward the masculine. Her
mouth, nose, and forehead exhibit disproportionate girth and her jaw line is
slightly too pronounced.
Such imperfections are rendered completely immaterial by a striking attribute that elevates her to the realm of the undeniably beautiful. Clearly visible capillaries irrefutably enhance a woman’s beauty. While skin tone ordinarily counts for little in the looks department, who can resist the captivating power of the “involuntary blush”?
Thiney’s capillaries are perfectly positioned pentagonal patterns that run from the top of her respective cheekbones to the base of her lips, taking an elegant 35-degree turn from the bubble protrusions of her nose. She may very well be as tough as nails, but the rosy red cheeks of her “involuntary blush” perpetually transmit the image of a charming dainty with a shy, innocent allure. We thus commend Gaetene Thiney and all girls with an “involuntary blush”. You emanate a resplendent aura with every smile. Keep smiling girls.
Such imperfections are rendered completely immaterial by a striking attribute that elevates her to the realm of the undeniably beautiful. Clearly visible capillaries irrefutably enhance a woman’s beauty. While skin tone ordinarily counts for little in the looks department, who can resist the captivating power of the “involuntary blush”?
Thiney’s capillaries are perfectly positioned pentagonal patterns that run from the top of her respective cheekbones to the base of her lips, taking an elegant 35-degree turn from the bubble protrusions of her nose. She may very well be as tough as nails, but the rosy red cheeks of her “involuntary blush” perpetually transmit the image of a charming dainty with a shy, innocent allure. We thus commend Gaetene Thiney and all girls with an “involuntary blush”. You emanate a resplendent aura with every smile. Keep smiling girls.
Germany vs. Nigeria
vs. 
A Dominant performance by the Krauts in spite of a very nervy finish. The Final twenty minutes of blunders, blown markings, and all-too-tentative flow were deserving of the title “Deutschland Schafft sich ab”. C’mon, Mädels! Spirit of (Turbine) Potsdam! Discipline! Regimented Football!
Apart from the fact that German disciplinary breakdowns once again make them their own worst enemy, I will say that the managerial decisions were both gutsy and deft. The courageous moves to place d'Mbabi and Behringer in the starting eleven, however unpopular, paid huge dividends. Popp and Grings were inspired substitutions, providing a crucial spark at just the right time.
It would appear that our Nationalelf cannot be stopped, at
the very least not yet. An all-too often-porous defense (man that sounds horrifyingly
familiar) may eventually herald our downfall. This notwithstanding, Midfield
general Kulig looks to be in fantastic form. Garefreckas is one hungry broad
and she will be sated. Prinz is well rested and prepared for a Klose-like
match.
Of course, you are familiar with my strict rules concerning betting against my beloved Fatherland. Should you wish to exploit my pride, I invite you to attempt to do so for the “n”th time. Nine years I’ve been siphoning cash out of you petty pricks J Why stop now? Yes, the hatred and resentment burns within you. It may, however, be wise to bear in mind the cautions of Omar from David Simon’s “The Wire”:
Of course, you are familiar with my strict rules concerning betting against my beloved Fatherland. Should you wish to exploit my pride, I invite you to attempt to do so for the “n”th time. Nine years I’ve been siphoning cash out of you petty pricks J Why stop now? Yes, the hatred and resentment burns within you. It may, however, be wise to bear in mind the cautions of Omar from David Simon’s “The Wire”:
“You come at the king, you best not miss”
Not much to report on Nigeria, excluding the fact that
seemingly all of you of you have e-mailed me over the past few days to insist
that I condemn the Nigerian coach for bigoted comments about homosexuality and her
deplorable bid to kick off all suspected lesbians from the team. Such
inexcusable conduct I am glad to vehemently condemn.
That being said, I wish to emphasize that there are probably dykes on her team despite her disgusting endeavors, and they still need your support. Don’t censure an entire team that worked unimaginatively hard to get here based on the backwards views of their designated deluded figurehead.
The issue of gay rights remains a horribly depressing subject in sub-Saharan Africa. Forgive me if I happen to believe lecturing Africans about disposing of their archaic, absolute bullshit religions a mere half-century after they were lectured about the importance of converting to this nonsense strikes the absolute wrong tone.
That being said, I wish to emphasize that there are probably dykes on her team despite her disgusting endeavors, and they still need your support. Don’t censure an entire team that worked unimaginatively hard to get here based on the backwards views of their designated deluded figurehead.
The issue of gay rights remains a horribly depressing subject in sub-Saharan Africa. Forgive me if I happen to believe lecturing Africans about disposing of their archaic, absolute bullshit religions a mere half-century after they were lectured about the importance of converting to this nonsense strikes the absolute wrong tone.
Oh…..we require a lighter topic. 73,000 fans at the opening
match!! Was that not amazing? Yes, we love our Women’s Football in Deutschland.
If you don’t believe be, google Turbine Potsdam or ask me to tell you about the
off-the-hinges time I had attending one of their matches by complete accident.
Germans have also been spotted masquerading as fans of whatever team they happened to get tickets for; any excuse to dress up and have fun. Already ESPN’s camera’s have caught seven of the most Aryan guys I’ve ever seen sporting green pants, afro wigs, while forming “N-I-G-E-R-I-A” across their bare chests. There has also been no shortage of Krauts who got in the spirit and had the flags of Japan, Mexico, Columbia, Brazil, and even Equatorial Guinea painted on their faces.
Sadly, I also spotted two Skinhead Neo-Nazis voicing their support for North Korea with a placard reading “Wir unterstützen Teufel” (we support devils).
Nobody’s perfect. At least we’re trying very hard…….
Germans have also been spotted masquerading as fans of whatever team they happened to get tickets for; any excuse to dress up and have fun. Already ESPN’s camera’s have caught seven of the most Aryan guys I’ve ever seen sporting green pants, afro wigs, while forming “N-I-G-E-R-I-A” across their bare chests. There has also been no shortage of Krauts who got in the spirit and had the flags of Japan, Mexico, Columbia, Brazil, and even Equatorial Guinea painted on their faces.
Sadly, I also spotted two Skinhead Neo-Nazis voicing their support for North Korea with a placard reading “Wir unterstützen Teufel” (we support devils).
Nobody’s perfect. At least we’re trying very hard…….
THE LINE: Deutschland +2
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
RESULT:
Germany 1, Nigeria 0. Ugh. An ugly game through and through, punctuated by the
ugly scene involving Birget Prinz. After Sylvia Neid yanked her eight minutes after the restart, she proceeded to take out her frustration by flaring what
looked like a mixture of methane and sulfur out of her nostrils. As she
progressed down the line of tunneled teammates, she got visibly more aggressive
with her handshakes. Finally, the tantrum reached its coda when the
heavy-heaving Prinz unleashed an explosive impromptu attack on a waste bin just
past the edge of the bench. Sigh. How sad it is to witness women engaging in
such huffing hysterics.
I assure you, ladies. Never have I observed a woman in the throngs of an apeshit outburst and thought, “Wow. That’s some really powerful outrage.” This includes female family members, who have contributed plenty of legendary meltdowns over the years. No ladies. I’m neither intimidated nor impressed. The whole pathetic theatrical display merely resembles a lemming fitting and strutting its hour upon the stage before being devoured by a hawk.
To prove I’m not completely sexist, male tantrums are equally as stupid. In their case one might experience a fleeting moment of fear…before remembering that he’s merely a mentally challenged gorilla beating his chest and mumbling unintelligible phrases behind bars before the zookeeper swings by with the electric cattle prod.
I assure you, ladies. Never have I observed a woman in the throngs of an apeshit outburst and thought, “Wow. That’s some really powerful outrage.” This includes female family members, who have contributed plenty of legendary meltdowns over the years. No ladies. I’m neither intimidated nor impressed. The whole pathetic theatrical display merely resembles a lemming fitting and strutting its hour upon the stage before being devoured by a hawk.
To prove I’m not completely sexist, male tantrums are equally as stupid. In their case one might experience a fleeting moment of fear…before remembering that he’s merely a mentally challenged gorilla beating his chest and mumbling unintelligible phrases behind bars before the zookeeper swings by with the electric cattle prod.
Prinz
should not shoulder the brunt of the burden for the ugliness in this one. As
many as fourteen challenges warranted bookings. The worst involved a clumsy
tackle of Melanie Behringer by Stella Mbachu around the half hour mark.
Behringer could not continue, forcing Neid to switch to an awkward looking
4-2-2-2 with the introduction of Popp. The uneven formation spelled doom for
Prinz, never much of a passer, and the ugliness rose to a boil.
The hosts had managed nothing of note prior to Laudehr’s 54th minute breakthrough. Kim Kulig forced Precious Dede into a save, but the ball was headed well wide anyway. Laudehr’s goal constituted yet another example of the importance of staying with the ball, even when the pinball of a crowded penalty area tempts one to throw one’s hands in the air and proclaim “fuck it”. It may be an appropriate reaction, but keep your head in the game.
The hosts had managed nothing of note prior to Laudehr’s 54th minute breakthrough. Kim Kulig forced Precious Dede into a save, but the ball was headed well wide anyway. Laudehr’s goal constituted yet another example of the importance of staying with the ball, even when the pinball of a crowded penalty area tempts one to throw one’s hands in the air and proclaim “fuck it”. It may be an appropriate reaction, but keep your head in the game.
“Storia
della bellezza – With Umberto Eco Vicey” (Part II)
“Umberto
Eco he is not. What’s to stop him from pretending? Here are some thoughts ‘On
Beauty’ from your friendly bookie.”
Simone
Laudehr and Alexandra Popp have bad teeth. Not exactly British bad, but they
still sport a snarl. Does this somehow disqualify them from the heights of the
Mount Rushmore of Beauty that I suddenly conceived of without warning? As
someone who has always resented his own Diastema, I might have once answered in
the affirmative. Yet, these two most certainly qualify as “very pretty”. What
makes them so? Blond hair? Blue eyes? Chiseled faces? No, we’re not going down
that road. Neither one of them meets complete Aryan criteria anyway.
Both have an hourglass figure punctuated by muscular thighs. These facets they’ve worked hard to maintain. The most prominent property in the image of Simone Laudehr sprinting forth, fists clenched, shoulders hunched, and mouth agape is her bulging right ulterior gammon flank; a protruding section of thigh muscle that signals to the world that she’s a footballer. Popp possesses a similar flawless physique. For all those unable to invest the long hours (and I count myself among you when things get hectic) know that the pair possess eminently pretty faces irrespective of their teeth. Gaps matter not.
Both have an hourglass figure punctuated by muscular thighs. These facets they’ve worked hard to maintain. The most prominent property in the image of Simone Laudehr sprinting forth, fists clenched, shoulders hunched, and mouth agape is her bulging right ulterior gammon flank; a protruding section of thigh muscle that signals to the world that she’s a footballer. Popp possesses a similar flawless physique. For all those unable to invest the long hours (and I count myself among you when things get hectic) know that the pair possess eminently pretty faces irrespective of their teeth. Gaps matter not.
Friday-------
Japan vs. Mexico
vs. 
Underwhelming performance by both of these sides in the opening round. Other than Ocampo’s stunner, terrible touch exhibited by non-factors Mayor, Rangel, and Vinti. Though the “Cartel of Cuties” may yet discover their game, but they looked horribly out-of-sync. Also slow out of the game are our Blue Samurai with the Pink dot. Sloppy finishing, lousy lateral use of the pitch, and unimaginative dribbling limited what should have been a dominant debut to an eked-out victory. Predicting which squad will shake off the languor tear up the pitch is no easy task.
One is tempted to declare another “pick 'em’”. Alas, the arbitrary animal remains stationary. I’ll throw my lot in with the team bedecked with “The pink dot of the ideal woman” and their legions of swaying prop schoolchildren. Here’s some reasoning:
1) RAW TALENT--What constitutes the “ideal woman”? The best
answers I’ve obtained as of yet are highly clichéd juxtapositions such as
“strong, yet supple” or “elegant and forceful.”….blah…blah…blah…the woman we
all wish we could find. “ultra feminine without the whining” As hackneyed as
such idioms may be, players like Miyama, Sameshima, and Nagasato look to
deserve it. Great first touches. Set-piece mastery. These girls have some
serious skills yet to show and I don’t see the senoritas matching up
2) SUPER SUBS—What catalysts are on offer off the bench?
Japan has the Messi-like phenom Mana Iwabuchi. No stopping this little
firecracker. Mexico has robust Stanford-alum Alina Garciamendez, a statuesque
Left Back I mistakenly labeled “The shy girl next door” in my primer (“shy girl
next door” is a registered trademark of “Girls Gone Wild: Plastered on
Frenchmen Street”)
In reality she is a mediocre player who compensates by playing very dirty; the lost love-child of Elizabeth Lambert and Kevin-Prince Boateng In addition to pulling Rachel Unitt’s hair and poking Jill Scott in the eye, she initiated three highly dangerous late tackles. Ugh. This girl has mud wrestling in her future. Advantage Japan.
In reality she is a mediocre player who compensates by playing very dirty; the lost love-child of Elizabeth Lambert and Kevin-Prince Boateng In addition to pulling Rachel Unitt’s hair and poking Jill Scott in the eye, she initiated three highly dangerous late tackles. Ugh. This girl has mud wrestling in her future. Advantage Japan.
3) INEXPERIENCE-- How about the play of Mexican goalkeeper
Cecilia Santiago? Watch your mouth! That girl’s only sixteen! You heard me.
“She’s only sixteen…..only sixteen….though you love her so…..but she is too
young to fall in love….and you are too young to know…”
4) NEVER TRUST A TEAM THAT FLOPS—Playing like the wops to
waste time and preserve a draw? Inexcusable! Disgraceful! Three cheating
wetbacks spent a large chunk of the final twenty minutes on their wetbacks,
writing in faked agony after some mild kicks to the crotch. Sorry, ladies. Hard
to believe it hurts that much.
THE
LINE: Japan+2
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
RESULT:
Japan 4, Mexico 0. Vindicated by a half-assed breakdown. The “ideal women”
forced home two snapshots in quick succession for an early lead. El Tri never
looked like they might muscle their way back in. Natalie Garcia hauled down
Kozue Ando to the left of the area with what can only be described as a
“vicious boob grab” in the 13th. Were I on the pitch, I’d likely
receive a straight red for inappropriate grabbage in the 7th. Aya
Miyama took the free kick and delivered a real gem for captain Homare Sawa to
head in.
Shinobu Ohno doubled the lead two minutes later found herself on the end of an expert flick on from Yuki Nagasato. After coolly lining up an effort with a skilled first touch, she peeled off a neat little laser that was just plain pretty all the way.
Shinobu Ohno doubled the lead two minutes later found herself on the end of an expert flick on from Yuki Nagasato. After coolly lining up an effort with a skilled first touch, she peeled off a neat little laser that was just plain pretty all the way.
The
up-front partnership of Ando and Nagasato functioned merely as a red herring,
with Sawa and Miyama exploiting the left and hogging the lion’s share of the
chances. The two constitute a dwarfish pair, neither one of them topping five
feet. Nevertheless, it was Sawa rising to over Saucedo and Garciamendez in the
39th to head in her second off a Miyama corner. Beaner coach
Leonardo Cuellar did everything within his power to interject some pace into
his side, trying first with Mercado, later with Robles, and finally with Teresa
Noyola.
The substitutes could accomplish little beyond mitigating any further humiliation. Beyond a bold long-distance looper from Stephany Mayor, the Cartel of Cuties seemed content to sit back and defend the constant onslaught.
The substitutes could accomplish little beyond mitigating any further humiliation. Beyond a bold long-distance looper from Stephany Mayor, the Cartel of Cuties seemed content to sit back and defend the constant onslaught.
Sawa
completed her Hat Trick in the 80th after Lahm-like rightback Yukari
Kinga charged all the way to the touchline before serving up the Japanese
skipper with a super cutback. The first time swoop finish made for a fitting
masterstroke. Without verifying, I’d venture a guess that it was the only Hat
Trick scored in Leverkusen all season.
“Storia
della bellezza – With Umberto Eco Vicey” (Part III)
“Umberto
Eco he is not. What’s to stop him from pretending? Here are some thoughts ‘On
Beauty’ from your friendly bookie.”
Homare
Sawa affords us a wonderful occasion to discuss the controversial issue of
aging women. Some gentle jokes aside, I consider myself in the male minority
when it comes to this delicate subject. It is with great disdain that I note
how many men who would consider themselves deep thinkers behave shallowly when
it comes to casting off their own age cohort, trading them in for a younger
model. Truly a disgrace.
Whether you are a zealously devout Christian (think Mel Gibson), a meditative and reflective Buddhist (think Russell Simmons or Richard Gere), or an agnostic yet socially aware humanist (think George Clooney), the one gospel all men seem to agree on is the importance of dating a girl at least twenty years younger than you. Yes, your philosophy of life notwithstanding, the philosophy of the dick remains the same.
Whether you are a zealously devout Christian (think Mel Gibson), a meditative and reflective Buddhist (think Russell Simmons or Richard Gere), or an agnostic yet socially aware humanist (think George Clooney), the one gospel all men seem to agree on is the importance of dating a girl at least twenty years younger than you. Yes, your philosophy of life notwithstanding, the philosophy of the dick remains the same.
Wait.
It gets even worse. It’s not even the fresh, unblemished skin, the accelerated
metabolism, or the tighter cunt that men are after. They simply find it easier
to have someone less experienced and considerably dumber than them around. It’s
less taxing on the ego, requires less work, and allows us to remain wrapped up
in ourselves and our own petty meanderings. The younger women who boast that an
older man “selected” them for their “uncommon level of maturity” always
facilitate a good laugh. I’ve gotten to the point that I may sit straight-faced
while you describe how “exceptional” and “unique” you are for dating an older
man.
“Yes, you really are something special,” I’ll remark while dutifully nodding my head. My inner-emotions remain a mixture of pity and Schadenfreude. You poor little tarts just don’t realize how patently stupid you are. You’re worse than a trophy. You a pet, owned by man too immature and lazy to maintain a partnership.
“Yes, you really are something special,” I’ll remark while dutifully nodding my head. My inner-emotions remain a mixture of pity and Schadenfreude. You poor little tarts just don’t realize how patently stupid you are. You’re worse than a trophy. You a pet, owned by man too immature and lazy to maintain a partnership.
In the
unlikely event that there’s a young woman reading this, she’ll surely conclude
that I speak out of personal bitterness or deep-seated spite. You’re more than
entitled to your opinion, but there exists no buried animosity here. As a man,
my aging process doesn’t perturb. On the contrary, life continues to improve
exponentially as I get older and I relish the prospect of growing more grizzled
still. Give yourself some time, sweetheart.
Time, an unrelenting menace not even close to being on your side, will catch up to you too. When it finally does, just remember that only a less hollow man will find the extra pounds you’ve packed on in the mid section, the grey streaks running through your hair, the crow’s feet nestled underneath your eyes, and the wrinkled crevices dominating your blotched face still attractive. Then you’ll truly be “something special”.
Time, an unrelenting menace not even close to being on your side, will catch up to you too. When it finally does, just remember that only a less hollow man will find the extra pounds you’ve packed on in the mid section, the grey streaks running through your hair, the crow’s feet nestled underneath your eyes, and the wrinkled crevices dominating your blotched face still attractive. Then you’ll truly be “something special”.
This
brings us back to Homare Sawa. Only thirty-two years of age, repeated exposure
to the most physically demanding of athletic endeavors leave her looking as if
she’s in her mid-forties. Her skin appears well worn. The bags under her eyes
exhibit a dark-yellowish hue. Wrinkle-folds invade her neck. A close inspection
reveals her hair begins to gray. Is she still beautiful? I happen to think so.
Nothing wrong with a vehicle with 170,000 miles on the odometer.
So long as it still runs, there’s quite a bit one can do with it. Trust me. Nothing rides like a classic. Don't bet on me pulling an Ashton Kutcher anytime soon. I still contend they don’t make em' like they used to. Too many younger women are appallingly bad in bed anyway.
So long as it still runs, there’s quite a bit one can do with it. Trust me. Nothing rides like a classic. Don't bet on me pulling an Ashton Kutcher anytime soon. I still contend they don’t make em' like they used to. Too many younger women are appallingly bad in bed anyway.
New Zealand vs. England
vs. 
The “Football Ferns”. Very Nice. So relieved I no longer have to refer to my little darlings as the “All-Cunts” Magnificent play at the back from this talented squad. Everybody’s back helping with crucial tackles and thrusting up with some dazzling long runs and cutting crosses. This ragtag group of American rejects also has some intricate set pieces at their disposal. If there is one knock on an otherwise tenacious, feisty, and scrappy squad, might I ask whose brilliant idea it was to wear the facial war paint in Ninety-Degree heat?
Don’t get me wrong. I thoroughly enjoyed watching Hayley Moorwood, Ali Riley, and Hannah Wilkinson constantly lifting their shirts to wipe off the smear….just don’t be a tease. You’re set to make me some money.
Having made some bank at the expense of you Limey bastards
in round one, I am prepared to talk yet more smack against your beloved “Three
Lionesses”. You goofball islanders consistently find a way to choke on
practically every global stage. If we were to hold an International Strippers
Convention, your cockney, toothless representative would stumble drunkenly onto
the stage, mumble something incomprehensible, slide clumsily off the pole and
proceed to wet herself!
Terrible debut for Rachel Yankey, Eniola Aluko, Karen Carney, and Kelly Smith. As usual, your best players find themselves in horrendous form…much like your food, your weather, and your latest national budget.
Terrible debut for Rachel Yankey, Eniola Aluko, Karen Carney, and Kelly Smith. As usual, your best players find themselves in horrendous form…much like your food, your weather, and your latest national budget.
WELCOME TO OUR FIRST UPSET SPECIAL!!
THE
LINE: New Zealand +1
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
RESULT:
England 2, New Zealand 1. An authentically fun match from start to finish, even
as the upset special didn’t end up panning out. Football Fern head coach John
Herdman scrapped his previous formation, presenting a 4-3-1-2 with Betsy Hasset
anchoring the forward duo of Hearn and Gregorius. Though it took some time for
the new attack to find its footing, the Kiwis eventually opening up the scoring
in the 18th with a magnificent team goal. Riley, covering a switch
on the left flank sent it forward for Katie Hoyle, who immediately squared for
Hasset.
Hasset threw it back to Bowen on the flank, who then sprung Hearn. Hearn raced up, patiently allowing Gregorius to split the defensive pairing of Rachel Unitt and Casey Stoney before threading in a perfect cross for Gregorius to step into. Six consecutive touches before hitting pay dirt showed that they were up and running like a well oiled machine.
Hasset threw it back to Bowen on the flank, who then sprung Hearn. Hearn raced up, patiently allowing Gregorius to split the defensive pairing of Rachel Unitt and Casey Stoney before threading in a perfect cross for Gregorius to step into. Six consecutive touches before hitting pay dirt showed that they were up and running like a well oiled machine.
The
goal had been scored against the run of play. The Lionesses looked threatening
early, attempting in vain to get the ball to towering central midfielder Jill
Scott (the female Peter Crouch) on a series of corners and set pieces. They
continued to generate pressure after the goal, though stalwart defending from
Abby Erceg and Rebecca Smith precluded any bonafide test of Kiwi keeper Jenny
Bindon. Instead it was Riley on one of her trademark runs forward who nearly
set up Gregorius again with a more or less identical cross in the 35th.
This time Unitt and Stoney stood tall.
After
trying to link up with Jill Scott all afternoon, Alex Scott finally managed to
successfully do so in the 63rd with the lanky beanpole of a girl
headed home with flair. The goal lit a fire under the lionesses’ posteriors,
Rachel Yankey, Ellen White, and Kelly Smith nearly swiping the lead with
several rapid-fire chances in the subsequent five minutes. Riley calmed things
down a notch with some fine possession. She rushed forward again to cross for
the newly substituted Rosie White in the 72nd, only for the latter
to badly misfire on the excellent delivery.
None other than Jill Scott orchestrated the decisive goal. Minutes after she teed up Ellen White with a daisy-cutter of a pull-back, she placed an incisive pass directly on the boot of substitute Jessica Clark, who hammered an 81st minute go-ahead into the back of the net. The remaining ten minutes or so belonged solely to the Lionesses, Fara Williams coming closest to making it 3-1 were it not for a brave kick save from Bindon.
None other than Jill Scott orchestrated the decisive goal. Minutes after she teed up Ellen White with a daisy-cutter of a pull-back, she placed an incisive pass directly on the boot of substitute Jessica Clark, who hammered an 81st minute go-ahead into the back of the net. The remaining ten minutes or so belonged solely to the Lionesses, Fara Williams coming closest to making it 3-1 were it not for a brave kick save from Bindon.
“Storia
della bellezza – With Umberto Eco Vicey” (Part IV)
“Umberto
Eco he is not. What’s to stop him from pretending? Here are some thoughts ‘On
Beauty’ from your friendly bookie.”
Okay,
Vicey. What precisely is it that makes Ali Riley so gorgeous? Insofar as I can
surmise it’s her highly intriguing genetic alchemy. I honestly cannot even
attempt a guess as to her spawning stock. I know she was born in the states,
attended Stanford, and obviously has a parent from New Zealand. Beyond that,
I’ve no clue what she is. She boasts some Asian features that for some
unexpected reason express themselves subtly. Asian genes are normally so dominant
that they overpower any European recessive mutations.
Off the top of my head I can think of at least a dozen Asian-Caucasian couples I know who have elected to breed. In eleven of those cases the kid comes out looking so Chinese/Korean/Japanese/Phillipino/Vitenamese/Cambodian that the wife might as well have been cheating. No one will ever know. Of course, genetics transcends the simplicity of the Mendel Charts we all studied in grade school. In the one remaining case, one can barely tell that of friend of mine was born to a Japanese mother. Only after concentrating intently on the nuances of his mien can you see the Hibachi behind the Mangrate.
Off the top of my head I can think of at least a dozen Asian-Caucasian couples I know who have elected to breed. In eleven of those cases the kid comes out looking so Chinese/Korean/Japanese/Phillipino/Vitenamese/Cambodian that the wife might as well have been cheating. No one will ever know. Of course, genetics transcends the simplicity of the Mendel Charts we all studied in grade school. In the one remaining case, one can barely tell that of friend of mine was born to a Japanese mother. Only after concentrating intently on the nuances of his mien can you see the Hibachi behind the Mangrate.
Given
that human beings come in such a wide variety of hues and skeletal structures,
the permutation that you can’t place never fails to fascinate. Ali is such a
specimen. Two very different people opted to mix it up and they ended up
accidentally discovering a valuable new element/inventing the most delicious
cocktail ever/concocting a cure for cancer/stumbling upon the “Powerpuff Girl”
formula.
Yes, chemistry is fun. Whenever I’m forced to cook I dump whatever I can find lying around the house into some diced tomatoes in search of the Holy Grail of pasta sauces. I mix alcohol with any item in the fridge that hasn’t begun sprouting hairs. Sometimes I blunder upon a glorious solution in the most unexpected of areas. Did you know that Mayonnaise, Gin, and Tony Chacheres seasoning in a blender makes for one heavenly smoothie? How about whisky, V8, and Tabasco? It’s damn good. Trust me. Spicy seasoning also perks up most any light beer.
Yes, chemistry is fun. Whenever I’m forced to cook I dump whatever I can find lying around the house into some diced tomatoes in search of the Holy Grail of pasta sauces. I mix alcohol with any item in the fridge that hasn’t begun sprouting hairs. Sometimes I blunder upon a glorious solution in the most unexpected of areas. Did you know that Mayonnaise, Gin, and Tony Chacheres seasoning in a blender makes for one heavenly smoothie? How about whisky, V8, and Tabasco? It’s damn good. Trust me. Spicy seasoning also perks up most any light beer.
I
stand firm in the belief that we humans almost have an obligation to mix it up
on behalf of the species. Our lives are so insignificant that some evolutionary
experimentation appears a solemn duty. If, by some miracle, I ever made enough
money to start a family, I might very well take a page from Eddie Murphy’s
“Raw” and head down to Namibia to pull the girl with the biggest afro out of
the bush. (with her permission of course). I’d be madly curious to see what we
could make. Never dated a blonde haired, blue-eyed girl. Honestly, what’s the
point? I could just make out with myself in the mirror. Er…not to say that I do
that….regularly…anymore.
Saturday--------
North Korea vs. Sweden
vs. 
The paucity of details surrounding any North Korean team typically leads to them being overrated. No one dares to predict that the unknown shall turn out nothing more than a dud. The same might be said of those Taepodong missiles.
Anyway, the dwarflike teens from the People’s Republic face a terrifying mismatch. The tallest team in the tournament can obliterate them aerially. The Swedes are also Panzer-like in their challenges. Somehow, one cannot escape the image of a Saab bearing down on a bicycle.
“The Swedish steamroller” they shall be called. Watching
these women for 90 minutes, I cannot help but be reminded of my Saab. Somehow,
they are configured entirely wrong. Round One was all about unforgettable
moments from big, lanky girls with an oddly indefinable style.
Whether it was Jessica Langstrom running over Natalia Gaitan, Caroline Seger body checking Nataly Arias or Lotta Schelin splitting defenders with pure brute force…….I am captivated by these women. They like it rough. There is simply no way the little teapots of North Korea will be able to compete on the crosses or indeed any set piece play.
Whether it was Jessica Langstrom running over Natalia Gaitan, Caroline Seger body checking Nataly Arias or Lotta Schelin splitting defenders with pure brute force…….I am captivated by these women. They like it rough. There is simply no way the little teapots of North Korea will be able to compete on the crosses or indeed any set piece play.
Prepare for the REAL lightning strike!
THE
LINE: Sweden +3
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
RESULT:
Sweden 1, North Korea 0. Another astonishingly intrepid performance from the
Striking Sisters of Socialism. Very nice defensive work from Jong Pok-Sim and
Song Jun-Song, who kept Schelin frustrated the entire match. Excellent power
from Kim Su-Gyong, whose thunderbolt would have gone in if not for an unfortunate
deflection. A beast of game also from North Korean keeper Hong Myung-Hoi, who
turned away spectacular efforts from Schelin, Landström, Seger, and Öqvist. The
lone goal came in the 64th off the toe of central midfielder Lisa
Dahlkvist. Linda Forsberg swung in a cross from the left flank that Therese
Sjögan artistically one-touched back for her. Once again it was Pagan fertility
circle time.
A very sexy celebration indeed. Little else to report from this one. I became rapaciously excited when Sara Thunebro appeared to clear a ball off the line with her breasts. That would have been first and only tit clearance I had ever witnessed. However, replays confirmed that, behind the obscuring forward, she had actually headed it clear. Damn shame.
A very sexy celebration indeed. Little else to report from this one. I became rapaciously excited when Sara Thunebro appeared to clear a ball off the line with her breasts. That would have been first and only tit clearance I had ever witnessed. However, replays confirmed that, behind the obscuring forward, she had actually headed it clear. Damn shame.
“Storia
della bellaza – With Umberto Eco Vicey” (Part V)
“Umberto
Eco he is not. What’s to stop him from pretending? Here are some thoughts ‘On
Beauty’ from your friendly bookie.”
The
very pretty Lotta Schelin has a very pretty smattering of freckles. For the
second time in this installment we salute girls with features that
inadvertently make them look sweet, innocent, even somewhat shy. One should not
equate the connotations of these traits with what a guy typically wants in a
woman. There is such a thing as too docile, too domestic, too sad little puppy
dog. Passion, zeal, and a firecracker personality side are important as well.
A few times in my life I’ve crossed women that were sweeter than a milk chocolate binge. A guy such as myself has no idea how to handle such innocence. I certainly can't fuck its brains out. If she’s a virgin…well…reminds me too much of a daughter or little sister. Looks like you’ve acquired a new big brother. He’ll be nice and kind to you, never even thinking of touching you. Seventy-two virgins don’t sound like paradise to me. It sounds like my own personal hell. I can’t help that many girls with their papers!
A few times in my life I’ve crossed women that were sweeter than a milk chocolate binge. A guy such as myself has no idea how to handle such innocence. I certainly can't fuck its brains out. If she’s a virgin…well…reminds me too much of a daughter or little sister. Looks like you’ve acquired a new big brother. He’ll be nice and kind to you, never even thinking of touching you. Seventy-two virgins don’t sound like paradise to me. It sounds like my own personal hell. I can’t help that many girls with their papers!
USA vs. Columbia
vs. 
What an atrocious first-half! Thought I was watching the U.S. Men’s Team for a hot minute. All frustration was poured into a rambling manifesto addressed to U.S. coach Pia Sunhage, angrily insisting on serious alterations to starting eleven. Thankfully, an awe-inspiring resurgence from “Sam’s Angels” led me to scrap it.
I blame ESPN’s pre-match coverage for jinxing our girls. Shame on them for that Hope Silo Desk Piece. Since when does a keeper bitching about something constitute news? Moreover, did we absolutely need a piece on the Dresden Firebombing immediately prior to kickoff? “Tens of Thousands of people were burned alive………now who’s ready for some FOOTBALL?”
No bother. The Dresden Frauenkirche has been restored and so
has the U.S. Frauen-Mannschaft. Spectacular intelligent play from Lauren
Cheney. That splendidly directed headed was the best effort I’ve seen from a
Sociology major all year. Wambach and Lloyd appear be in great form. Shannon
Boxx still plays (and looks) all-too choppy, but seems fit nonetheless. Rampone
also found her legs late in the match. That’s fantastic news. Ali Krieger is
right at home in Germany, having defined her career with the Frankfurt Frauen.
After a serviceable tune-up, she’s poised to be a factor in Round 2. Alex Morgan is your Alexandra Popp. Both are voracious little tigers with the ability to lift scorchers off their thunderous thighs. Speaking of “eager beavers”, Meghan Rapinoe is also one fiery fighter. She would have had a late-goal, were it not for the evolving American tradition of unjustly disallowing one. It was a straight-up 50-50 challenge!!
After a serviceable tune-up, she’s poised to be a factor in Round 2. Alex Morgan is your Alexandra Popp. Both are voracious little tigers with the ability to lift scorchers off their thunderous thighs. Speaking of “eager beavers”, Meghan Rapinoe is also one fiery fighter. She would have had a late-goal, were it not for the evolving American tradition of unjustly disallowing one. It was a straight-up 50-50 challenge!!
Columbia’s defense looks far too porous, with three balls
cleared off the line and three badly miffed Swedish scoring chances in
Tuesday’s loss. All set for a romp?
THE
LINE: USA +3
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
RESULT:
USA 3, Columbia 0. What a delightful romp for “Sam’s Angels”. Hope Solo even
came within a few inches of cracking a smile. Sundhage sat Shannon Box in favor
of Lori Lindsey and the move reaped dividends. After much speculation, the rest
of the midfield remained in place. O’Reilly and Cheney played an excellent
match. Carli Lloyd also adjusted well after switching sides. This was the match
in which Amy Rodriguez was revealed to be something of a hindrance for Wambach.
She was subbed at halftime for Meghan Rapinoe, who proved herself a much better
complement to Wambach’s style of play.
The
Colombians sang in the tunnel, as a dour-faced Hope Solo appeared to be staring
intently at a few molecules of dust that had severely pissed her off. Sam’s
Angels saved their singing for the field, we’re they were seldom outplayed over
the course of 90 minutes…if one can even say they were outplayed at all. The
scoring got underway already in the 12th when Heather O’Reilly laced
a sloppy turnover a stunning thirty yards for an absolute cracker of a goal.
O’Reilly would later strike the post in her bid for a brace while all Wambach
and Rodriguez could do was sky some golden opportunities.
Sundhage
had finally seen enough and introduced Rapinoe at the half. She proved herself
to be an immensely talented footballer within five minutes of her introduction,
brilliantly touching a Lauren Cheney pass outside of her marker before booting
it home from just outside the 18. Yes, this was the infamous goal that she
celebrated by running over towards the effects mike adjacent to the right
corner flag and singing “Born in the USA” into it. Foxier than Knoxy.
Rapinoe saw her attempts at brace defied by the crossbar and Wambach looked nothing short of snake bit. Carli Lloyd padded the lead with another breathtaking long distance effort in the 57th. Though another goal wasn’t forthcoming, the American women ran roughshod over a hopelessly outclassed Colombian side for another half hour plus. In fact, the only decent effort the South Americans could muster was a Katerin Castro goal rightly disallowed, as she was miles offside.
Rapinoe saw her attempts at brace defied by the crossbar and Wambach looked nothing short of snake bit. Carli Lloyd padded the lead with another breathtaking long distance effort in the 57th. Though another goal wasn’t forthcoming, the American women ran roughshod over a hopelessly outclassed Colombian side for another half hour plus. In fact, the only decent effort the South Americans could muster was a Katerin Castro goal rightly disallowed, as she was miles offside.
“Storia
della bellaza – With Umberto Eco Vicey” (Part VI)
“Umberto
Eco he is not. What’s to stop him from pretending? Here are some thoughts ‘On
Beauty’ from your friendly bookie.”
As
I’ve already remarked several hundred times, there simply wasn’t a fugly face
on this team. We surely won’t get away with covering one single player this
time, not with a predominantly American readership. Not entirely sure I would
wish to focus on one of them anyway. Much like the presenter of the AVN Award for
“Best Anal Sex Scene”, I simply feel too bad that if can’t give all the girls
their due credit. They’ve all worked so hard! Hence, we shall blitz out a compilation that touches em’
all. Er…that it to say….well you know what I mean.
Hope
Solo earns her stripes, as I’ve already mentioned, through her attractive
eyebrows. Heather Mitts is sexy in the more generic Playboy Playmate way.
Christine Rampone is perhaps a little too butch in the face, but has nice
curves. Becky Sauerbrunn earns her cuteness via the nebulous “girl next door”
factor. Tobin Heath, Alex Morgan, and Rachel Buehler work that angle as well.
Morgan in particular has one of the cutest noses I’ve ever seen.
Amy
LePeilbet has nice eyes. Shannon Box has a nice ass. Amy Rodriguez sports a gorgeous
pair of legs, along with the freckle factor. Carli Lloyd has very nice skin,
accentuated by well-placed capillaries. Stephanie Cox will be my “a note to
follow so” in that she’s beautiful in exactly the same way. Ali Krieger has the
same basic features of Danica Patrick, and happens to be ten times as
strikingly beautiful.
She should be doing those “Go Daddy” commercials. Lauren Cheney has a darling face to go along with her inviting hips. Lori Lindsey emits a nice MILF vibe. Meghan Rapinoe and Abby Wambach blow the stereotype about women with short hair right out of the water. No, I don’t care what you think. I find them both attractive. The answer would be yes. All day, every day, even on sober holidays.
She should be doing those “Go Daddy” commercials. Lauren Cheney has a darling face to go along with her inviting hips. Lori Lindsey emits a nice MILF vibe. Meghan Rapinoe and Abby Wambach blow the stereotype about women with short hair right out of the water. No, I don’t care what you think. I find them both attractive. The answer would be yes. All day, every day, even on sober holidays.
That
about takes care of everyone except the two back up keepers. Have I gotten to
everyone? Not quite. We've still have the Southern Belle who barely edged out
Ali Riley for the dubious honor of “Vicey’s hottest girl in the tournament”. I
speak of none other than Georgia’s own Kelley O’Hara. After spending a drunken
evening ruminating on why I found myself so infatuated with the former Stanford
Cardinal and current Boston Breakers midfielder, it hit me like a ton of
bricks: She looks almost exactly like a girl I had a crush on in Junior High.
Yikes. Did I just write that for anyone and everyone to see? Fraid so. Oh well.
At least no one’s reading this.
Oops.
This just in. Apparently someone from a U.S. Appellate court was reading and
I’ve been ordered to keep a distance of 200 feet from anyone involved in the
U.S. Women’s Soccer team at all times. No problem. The joy of writing this
section was well worth the restraining order. This isn’t the first time I’ve
been ordered to get the hell away from a bunch of female soccer players by a
judge in good standing.
Sunday--------
Australia vs. Equatorial Guinea
vs. 
The Black Queens have proven incredibly entertaining to watch, unleashing blistering strikes and playing with a fiery tempo! Christ, what amazing power from future Potsdam Striker Anonman! Norwegian Keeper Ingrid Hjelmsseth will have bruised boobs for a solid week. Here are your notes on the historic masterpiece executed by Anonman: Twelve shots, over sixty touches, and an unrelenting presence all over the field. We have a word for that, gentlemen: heart. What an outstanding performance! Never seen anything like that in my life. Diala and Adriana were fantastic too, though they cannot help but be overshadowed.
This one should be a real treat. Unfortunately, it will
likely end in another late letdown for our African Heroes. The speed of their
game is a banquet for the eyes, if not a terrible glaring vulnerability. Some
crisp cycle passing along with timely and effective goalkeeping can stymie
their rhythm easily. This illustrates the problem with an offense as
one-dimensional as a Maureen Dowd column.
Though Paul Krugman may fill you up with fiery venom and faith in one approach, you cannot help but be skeptical of formulaic partisanship. The fact that a retarded emu on acid can out-reason Ross Douthat does not justify reliance on the logic of Gail Collins. Eventually, David Brooks shows up with a bland, centrist, self-contradicting version of “Deep Thoughts” by Jack Handy, and the day is won. Not following me you say? I merely invoked everyone on the NY Times Editorial Staff to convey the point that Australia will win by playing boring and balanced.
Though Paul Krugman may fill you up with fiery venom and faith in one approach, you cannot help but be skeptical of formulaic partisanship. The fact that a retarded emu on acid can out-reason Ross Douthat does not justify reliance on the logic of Gail Collins. Eventually, David Brooks shows up with a bland, centrist, self-contradicting version of “Deep Thoughts” by Jack Handy, and the day is won. Not following me you say? I merely invoked everyone on the NY Times Editorial Staff to convey the point that Australia will win by playing boring and balanced.
Ah Shit. I forgot Charles M. Blow.
Thus the course is set. The “Waltzing Matilda’s” must slow
the tempo. Who can help but have confidence in Van Egmond and de Vanna to clog
up the midfield while keeper Melissa Barbieri to does the rest? No, I do not
have any wise “cracks” about Australian Midfielder Tameika Butt.
THE
LINE: Australia+1
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
RESULT:
Australia 3, Equatorial Guinea 2. What a game! Five goals, including two
moments of magic from Anonman. At least fifty solid scoring chances and one
bizarre moment for the history books. The Waltzing Matildas struck first,
already in the 8th. After Heather Garrick’s point blank bullet
proved too much for E.G. keeper Mirian to handle, Leena Khamis pounced on the
rebound to finish. As she ran to the right sideline, pulling down her shirt collar
with both hands, male viewers around the world got terribly excited.
Turns
out she wasn’t in the mood to flash her tits after all. She merely wanted to
show us her club logo printed on the T-Shirt she was wearing underneath. What a
letdown. One day a female footballer will treat us all to the best goal
celebration in the entire history of the game, including the men’s version.
After smacking home a fifty-yard thunderstrike, she’ll go full Brandi
Chastain…then go even further. Unclasp that sports bra, sweetie, and give us a
taste of those puppy noses. This only needs to happen once for Women’s football
to become the most popular sport around world for the whole of eternity. All we
need is one fearless and shameless heroine. It never needs to be repeated. Men
will watch endlessly in the hope that it might. Who will rise?
Back
to this spectacular match. Khamis put another effort on frame seven minutes
after some the goal and E.G. defender Bruna, probably thinking that the play
was offside, picked up the rebound, holding the ball in her hands for a solid
two seconds. Either the referee was screened or she decided to let the
brainfart pass. In any event, it was absolutely shocking that a penalty wasn’t
awarded. Poor Aussie centerback Servet Uzunlar had a nightmare of a game. She
took an exorbitant amount of time to dribble out of the back in the 21st.
Anonman made her pay for the agonizingly shitty rookie decision, dispossessing her easily. Anonman then faked out on-rushing keeper Lydia Williams with one of the most spine-tingling moves you’ll ever see. There are dekes. There are über-dekes. There are sick über-dekes. There are “just-plain-sick-überdekes”. Then there’s what Anonman did to Williams. I’m yet to see a man dance like that.
Anonman made her pay for the agonizingly shitty rookie decision, dispossessing her easily. Anonman then faked out on-rushing keeper Lydia Williams with one of the most spine-tingling moves you’ll ever see. There are dekes. There are über-dekes. There are sick über-dekes. There are “just-plain-sick-überdekes”. Then there’s what Anonman did to Williams. I’m yet to see a man dance like that.
Collette
McCallum (more on her later) came the closest to restoring the lead, rattling
the crossbar just before halftime. The Outback Ovaries re-established supremacy
two minutes after the restart. Our “almost flasher” Leena Khamis flipped in a
juicy cross finished well by Emily van Egmond. Three minutes later it was
McCallum with an exquisite through ball for De Vanna and a 3-1 advantage.
Anonman continued to dazzle, twice shaving the woodwork with inspired efforts.
She would halve the deficit in the 83rd, once again picking
Uzunlar’s pocket and duping Lydia Williams. Fantastic stuff. I don’t recall
sitting the entire match.
“Storia
della bellaza – With Umberto Eco Vicey” (Part VII)
“Umberto
Eco he is not. What’s to stop him from pretending? Here are some thoughts ‘On
Beauty’ from your friendly bookie.”
Ask a
dude what precisely it is that merits “girl next door” status and you won’t
receive anything close to a coherent answer. As articulate a man as I consider
myself, I cannot compose something that supercedes American Football Player
Interview Speak:
“Uh….yeah…you
know….uh….the ‘girl next door’…she’s…like….uh….the girl who be….all
bashful….and stuff.”
Yes.
The eloquent writer finds himself reduced to sounding like “Miss Teen South
Carolina”. As one fumbles for some sort of useable definition, all that comes to
mind concerns her proclivity towards reticence. But the “girl next door” need
not be quiet and reserved. I’ve lived next some who were wild and crazy freaks
in the sack. Perhaps the essence of the “girl next door” relates to the moment
when you catch that passing glimpse while trying to insert the key into the
lock and also trying to juggling your mail.
That brief glance is all you need for a dirty little fantasy to abruptly flit through your head before just as quickly disappearing. She’ll never know of this vision, in part because it raced in and out of your mind too rapidly for your face to react. So there we have it. The “girl next door” happens to be the one you hope is DECEPTIVELY tame; the one who uncorks with a screeching, (PLEASE STOP READING NOW IF YOU HAPPEN TO BE ONE OF MY RELATIVES) “fuck my pussy! fuck it harder!”
That brief glance is all you need for a dirty little fantasy to abruptly flit through your head before just as quickly disappearing. She’ll never know of this vision, in part because it raced in and out of your mind too rapidly for your face to react. So there we have it. The “girl next door” happens to be the one you hope is DECEPTIVELY tame; the one who uncorks with a screeching, (PLEASE STOP READING NOW IF YOU HAPPEN TO BE ONE OF MY RELATIVES) “fuck my pussy! fuck it harder!”
Wow.
Please feel free to take a shower as the unfortunate Collette McCallum doesn’t
deserve to be introduced like this. She’s a befreckled redhead (Nine times out
of ten she’s a redhead. Love me some redheads) with an adorable smile. She’s
the type of girl you’d be content just to cuddle with, holding her tight all
night long. But…wait a second…she’s not satisfied merely lying in your arms
while you kiss her neck. She’s got a surprise for you….
Brazil vs. Norway
vs. 
vs.
Isn’t the mandatory braided hair of the Norwegian women the
most adorable coordinated exercise you’ve ever seen? Awwww…such precious little
sweeties; an entire team fit for a “Swiss Miss” Cocoa Box. One envisions a
harem of Nordic Blondes barely able to suppress their girlish giggles as they
braid each other’s silky hair in the locker room. Did this team have a cameo in
Monty Python’s “Search for the Holy Grail”?
Beyond stereotyping, Haavi, Stensland, Ronning and Gardsjord
have this team playing at least as soulfully as “Jan Gabarek plays with a bunch
of moaning Pakistanis”. We’re not quite on “Jan Gabarek plays with the Hilliard
Ensemble” level yet, but we’ll get there. A few more kinks remain: more fluid
passing, more precise finishing, and better communication. I predict they'll be playing with all the majesty of their interwoven locks before the end of Round
3. Plenty more to come from this squad. Stay tuned.
Regrettably, they find themselves facing off against “Mighty
Marta.” Oh…she’s got sweet moves. She can “Sura del Bunda” me anytime. She was
unusually quiet during the first match but Rosana, Maurine, and Aline proved
more than adept at picking up the slack. The female canaries are on the verge
of exploding.
THE
LINE: Brazil +1
Revised
Championship Odds
Germany
2-1
USA
2-1
Sweden
3-1
Brazil
3-1
France
6-1
Japan
6-1
Canada
7-1
New Zealand
8-1
England
8-1
Australia
9-1
Equatorial Guinea
10-1
North Korea
12-1
GENTLEMEN,
ENTER YOUR WAGERS
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
RESULT:
Brazil 3, Norway 0. Finally we got to see what amazing moves “Mighty Marta” was
capable of. To be fair, her first goal came at the expense of some rather
hideous play. After Erika played it in her general direction with a splendid
cross-field pass, she needlessly pushed an already stumbling Nora Holstad Berg
to ensure sole possession en route to Hjelmseth. As unsports(wo)manlike as the
shove might have been she made up for it by throwing off Hjelmseth with even
more gorgeous footwork than Anonman had earlier displayed.
To recap then: There are dekes. There are über-dekes. There are sick über-dekes. There are “just-plain-sick-überdekes”. Then there’s what Anonman did to Williams. Further still, then there’s what Marta did to Hjelmseth. The men may be as adept as the women when it comes to dancing. The women just do it more often. Women are more reliable when it comes to turning tricks….I mean…dammit…not again…you know what I mean.
To recap then: There are dekes. There are über-dekes. There are sick über-dekes. There are “just-plain-sick-überdekes”. Then there’s what Anonman did to Williams. Further still, then there’s what Marta did to Hjelmseth. The men may be as adept as the women when it comes to dancing. The women just do it more often. Women are more reliable when it comes to turning tricks….I mean…dammit…not again…you know what I mean.
Marta
kept up the show one minute into the restart. An incredible spell of possession
drew the entire back line toward her. This left Rosana open for a 46th
minute goal. Two minutes later Marta had her brace, albeit in a somewhat
flukish fashion. The rebound from Christiane’s shot fell directly to her. For
the second time in one match, Marta allowed her guilt to govern her. Rather
than put away the easy chance, she danced around for a full four seconds so
that her goal might be earned.
That, my friends, is a woman. To hell with taking what one gets. Fight and scrape for everything, competing only against yourself if necessary. The Norwegians never came close to making a game of it. There were tears from elf-girl Emilie Haavi. This time they were not tears of joy.
That, my friends, is a woman. To hell with taking what one gets. Fight and scrape for everything, competing only against yourself if necessary. The Norwegians never came close to making a game of it. There were tears from elf-girl Emilie Haavi. This time they were not tears of joy.
“Storia
della bellaza – With Peter Weis” (Part VIII)
“Umberto
Eco he is not. What’s to stop him from pretending? Here are some thoughts ‘On
Beauty’ from your friendly bookie.”
What
better way to conclude this misconceived little serial than with a look at
Marta’s vigorous tenacity? She takes every stroke of luck and stamps it with
her own signature. From time to time in my life I’ve found myself lying spent
in the afterglow, passing a bit of pillow talk with some girl I picked up. Many
times they express admiration at your initiative. “I can tell you’re the type
of guy who sees what he wants and takes it,” they say…or at least something that
effect.
This happens to be much more than a woman not so subtly suggesting that she hopes you can one day make enough money to take care of her. There’s a bit of that in there, but the infinitely more important point concerns the “seize the day” mentality that can make or break our lives. Man or woman, you’ve got to let those metaphorical balls drop. If there’s even the vaguest inkling of a moment lurking somewhere in the recesses of your head, take your chance.
This happens to be much more than a woman not so subtly suggesting that she hopes you can one day make enough money to take care of her. There’s a bit of that in there, but the infinitely more important point concerns the “seize the day” mentality that can make or break our lives. Man or woman, you’ve got to let those metaphorical balls drop. If there’s even the vaguest inkling of a moment lurking somewhere in the recesses of your head, take your chance.
No, it
won’t always work out. In point of fact, it will work out far fewer times than
you’ll be prepared to commend yourself for your bravery. One mustn’t allow
one’s failures to rule you. Put in a more clichéd way, never allow your past to
determine your future. Most assuredly, there is a time for hanging back to let
things breathe. Make the most of it. Tell your hesitant friend to go for it
when it would be counterproductive for you to do so.
In the process of telling him or her, you might just realize that it’s not so counterproductive after all…..or not. I’ve had girls give me the “Get away from me now, loser” line more than a few times. At the end of the day, I still maintain that a bitch a’int one of my ninety-nine problems. Watch the way Marta moves. Watch how she grabs every chance by the balls and out-shines the sun and the moment it gave her. It holds true for both women and men. Seize your moment. You won’t regret it.
In the process of telling him or her, you might just realize that it’s not so counterproductive after all…..or not. I’ve had girls give me the “Get away from me now, loser” line more than a few times. At the end of the day, I still maintain that a bitch a’int one of my ninety-nine problems. Watch the way Marta moves. Watch how she grabs every chance by the balls and out-shines the sun and the moment it gave her. It holds true for both women and men. Seize your moment. You won’t regret it.
