Saturday, June 30, 2012

EM 2012--Goodbyes and Championship Pick


“To my dearest friends both old and new”,
EM 2012

Ten years ago a burgeoning writer gradually emerging from the harrowing tribulations of adolescence chose to employ this sincerest of greetings. After a month of hammering out flippant and facetious content, he could no longer resist conveying his genuine affection for a solid core of over a hundred individuals who graciously shared their time and wit with him. A decade has passed. Many of us have grown old together. Even though the responsibilities of adult life have shifted our priorities, we’ve retained the priceless character traits levity, perspicacity, and (of course) true heart.

When we began we were but children; soul-searching wanders, united merely by a rapacious sense of curiosity and “Wanderlust”. The beautiful game afforded us a pleasant distraction; a mood-elevating diversion we happily engaged in with hopes of parlaying our renewed vigor into the future. As the arrow of time has moved along its inevitable linear path, more and more of us have found our place in this world. I thank my wonderfully beautiful syndicate members for every last detailed reports on the new locations, new careers, and new families. Though I write a similar iteration on this theme every year, it has been an especially touching one. My heart sings at the news of your triumphs; triumphs of the lionhearted over an all-too-often petty and unkind world. You sharp ones deserve every last bit of success you presently enjoy.


Editor’s retroactive notes:

Looking back at it all, I’m genuinely grateful for all my struggles, false-starts, and near misses. They enabled me to speak to you from the heart. Thanks for speaking back ; )

Then there are those who must still struggle through despair and doubt. These month-long festivals are, as always, dedicated to you. Though the more heartfelt exchanges cannot compete with the snarky ones in terms of entertaining copy, I assure you they outnumber those selected for the mailbag 20-1. It is precisely because of these communiqués that I can easily be so nonchalant when dealing with what might otherwise be one or two piercing personal attacks. To those ‘on the brink’ of the personal fulfillment they seek, I offer you the heartfelt promise that the Syndicate will always be there for you. More importantly, this Shadow Scholar will ALWAYS be here for you. I refer to you ‘on the brink’ of your individual aspirations, because I will not allow you to fail. Whatever anguish and dejection currently ails you, I will not allow you to face it alone. Your friendly bookie will never stand pat, picking you up and carrying you on his shoulders if he must. No one gets left behind in our circle. Absolutely no one. This world has place for all of us yet. We’ll strive until the very end.



No rest for the weary. If anything, my personal failures only strengthened my determination to let NO ONE ELSE experience similarly dark moments. I’ll be there for you. I promise.

New members, new friends, and the poor souls who stumbled across this site when randomly googling something EM-related may be surprised that we finish in such an austere and even thoughtful fashion. It has always been so. Our core, now nearly 300 strong, constitutes an actual team. One might even say that we’re family. Once a year we get to relive the carefree, halcyon days of youthful indiscretion through some frivolous fluff. We’re quite the international crew, from every last continent on earth (except Antarctica…no penguin members that I’m aware of). There’s a very good reason winnings aren’t disseminated until the end of tournament. It takes me the better part of three days to calculate over 500 bets taken in U.S. Dollars, Canadian Dollars, Australian Dollars, Euros, British Pounds, Polish Zloty, Swedish Kroner, Czech Kroner, Swiss Francs, Mexican Pesos, Argentine Pesos, and a whole host of ridiculous African currencies. Christ, now you at least know why I’m so adamant about preserving the single currency.


Editor’s retroactive notes:

The next bit covers “misfits”; a fitting term to describe those of us who, in spite of an unrelenting commitment to hard work and self-improvement, still must suffer under the duress of our own existential dilemmas…along with a few that others will invariably heap upon us. It’s all dedicated to you, brothers. Keep at it. Keep working. Keep striving. There’s no other way to get where you’re going. We’ll all end up somewhere reasonably tolerable. I’m sure of it ; )

We are the world’s misfits, the international journeymen of Generation Y, a ragtag group of pseudo-intellectuals who are always up for a heavy conversation over a beer. We’ve got opinions on political elections taking place all over the world. We’ll debate songs, films, or books with you until the sun comes up. As much as we love waving our own flags, someone who waves another will always remain more intriguing. We are global citizens, never fully content to stray from the cracks between nation states for too long. We crave the stimulation of the undiscovered harder than the most hardcore of junkies. WE ARE THE SYNIDCATE…..and we even have a motivational address that we traditionally close with:

“Peace with the Metric System”

“I don’t know what to say really. Three minutes to the biggest battle of our professional lives. All comes down to today. Either we heal as a team, or we’re going to crumble. 2.54 centimeters by 2.54 centimeters…set piece by set piece….til we’re finished. We’re in hell right now, gentlemen. Believe me. And…….we can stay here, get the shit kicked out of us, or………..we can fight our way back…….into the light…….we can climb our way out of hell. 2.54 Centimeters at a time.

Now I can’t do it for you. I’m too old. I look around, I see all of these young faces and think……..I mean……..I’ve made every wrong choice a bookie in his late twenties can make. I…ah…. pissed away all my money, believe it or not. I chased off anyone who’s ever loved me. And lately, I can’t even stand the face I see in the mirror.

You know, when you get old in life, things get taken from you…. I mean that’s…that’s…...that’s part of life. But, you only learn that when you start losing stuff. You find out life’s this game of 2.54 centimeters. So is football. Because in either game, life or football, the margin for error is so small…..I mean…one half a step too late or too early, you don’t quite make it. One half second too slow, too fast, you don’t quite kick it. The centimeters we need are everywhere around us! They’re in every break of the game, every minute, every second.

In this book, we fight for those 2.54 centimeters. In this book, we tear ourselves and everyone else around us to pieces for those 2.54 centimeters. We claw with our fingernails for those 2.54 centimeters! Because, we know when we add up all those centimeters, that’s gonna make the FUCKIN difference between winnin and losin!!!!!!!! Between living and dieing!!!

I’ll tell you this: In any fight, it’s the guy who’s willin to die, who’s gonna win that 2.54 centimeters. And I know, if I’m gonna have any life anymore, it’s because I’m still willing to fight and die for those 2.54 centimeters!!! Because….that’s what livin is!!! The 15.24 centimeters in front of your face!!

Now I can’t make you do it! You’ve gotta look at the guy next to you. LOOK INTO HIS EYES!! Now I think you’re gonna see a guy who will go those 2.54 centimeters with you. I think you’re gonna see a guy who will sacrifice himself for this team because he knows, when it comes down to it, YOU’RE GONNA DO THE SAME FOR HIM. That’s a team, gentlemen. And, either we heal, NOW, as a team……..or we will die…as individuals. That’s football guys. That’s all it is. Now………..WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?!?!?!?!”
 
And what of the future of our ‘team’? Difficult to say. You know your friendly bookie would cover virtually every international sports tournament if he could. Though the Olympics would be too over-scoped, I’d write on the African Cup of Nations, the IIHF’s International Ice Hockey Tournament, even 2013’s WORLD BASEBALL CLASSIC. It all comes down to how much hobby time I can wrest from other obligations. In any event, I can ABSOLUTELY, IRON-CLAD promise Syndicate Members two things:

1) The new hobby-writing website will be completed before 2012 is out. As inferred above, ALL still-seeking syndicate members need to come with me. If you’ve been unable to carve out your niche yet, I’ll create your home. As a frequent reject myself, I know that those of us who live to assault the keys need their own home. “Extreme Makeover: Vice Edition” will ensure that we all have a room over our head, under which we can practice our love in peace.


Editor’s retroactive notes:

The website WAS completed. Unfortunately, only one solitary writer could find time for it. I harbor no animosity, brothers. Live your lives. Just check in when you can ; )

2) We shall all met again next summer for the Confederations Cup “Dry Run”. One year prior to the World Cup, the continental champions congregate for a little trial/test. The U.S. will be there. Spain too. Brazil as host. South American, Asian, African, and Oceanic Champions as well. Back in 2009, the U.S. even made it to the final. Stay tuned.


Editor’s retroactive notes:

This promise is being kept as we speak….against all the odds. It’s happening ; )


Supreme Champion of the European Football Universe—Italy vs. Spain


Italy vs. Spain

Thirty-three days ago, we kicked off “EM 2012—Syndicate Resurrection”. The following words heralded the advent:

“Welcome to Europe Syndicate Members,

I bring you tidings from the gloriously picturesque campus of a highly accredited European technical institution. Radiant sunshine and a gentle spring breeze graces our presence. This Eden-like setting has succeeded in imbuing us all with a sense with a sense of sublime tranquility and unbridled optimism. Every last one has been seduced by the enchanting day: the birds pleasantly chirping in the shady trees, the bumbling absent-minded professors stumbling late to a lecture they forgot they were supposed to give, the schizophrenic graduate students pacing around reciting their presentations, even the skinny-jean clad, overly gelled hair hipster scum occupying the bench adjacent to mine discussing Kierkegaard. It is indeed a day doing it’s utmost to instill an indomitable sense of warmth, comfort, and hope to ALL of us below-average individuals preoccupied with mundane tasks. Yes Sir. Life is damn good.   

Yes, I’m drinking. No, it’s not forbidden. Though one shouldn’t falsely conclude that it is encouraged, I legitimately bought this ONE EURO BEER (roughly 85 cents) from the bar next to the library. Shall we allow that last sentence to sink in for a spell? Yes, “the bar NEXT TO the library.” I’ll provide you with the precise measurements in both Metric and Anglo. By “next to” I mean approximately 15 feet or 4.5 meters away. Welcome to Europe, Gentlemen. As Vincent Vega would say, we do things “just a little bit different” over here….at least for the time being. Were you to believe the Cassandra Hacks working for The Economist, you’d almost be convinced that all of this might disappear in a whiff of smoke emanating from a bond-vigilante-mushroom-cloud next Tuesday. Well, I’ve news for everyone, even the sensationally erudite: We are Europe and we’re not going anywhere….at least not for the time being.

Speaking of Hack writers, an obscure ghost used these words to describe Europe back in the fall of 2009:

“Bizarre Micro States galore! We’ve got ethic enclaves, medieval fiefdoms, breakaway republics, “kingdoms” that have been a part of the U.K. for 600 years, bitterly dived realms that can’t decide on a nationality, new countries that were formed yesterday at 3:34 a.m. when no one was paying attention, land’s whose teams have goats and sheep playing for them, States who have survived centuries of warfare by functioning merely as a picturesque tax shelter and a newly approved treaty that aims to make sense of the whole tangled mess! Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the quirky inheritor of feudal Christendom… I give you a veritable patchwork quilt of technocrats squabbling over milk subsidies. I give you EUROPE! (Turks, Israelis, Russians, Kazaks, Azerbaijanis, and Nordic Colonial islands also welcome. Everyone join the party!)”

The “treaty” at that specific juncture was Lisbon, rammed through on a second try past an obstinately cautious Irish electorate. Now we are pleased to present the EFSF (European Financial Stability Facility) and it’s little, shier sister, the EFSM (European Financial Stability Mechanism). Together they pack a punch of over 500 billion Euros. Add the IMF’s contribution and we’ve got 750 billion Euros protecting yield spreads. Add the potential of flexible credit lines from either the IMF and World Bank and we’re over a trillion. Give the Chinese a polite phone call and we’ve met the requirements elucidated by the honorable Hans Beinholtz:


Europe: Eat dinner at ten. Take a nap at two. Meet your lover at four. Meet your mistress at five. Meet your lover’s mistress at six. Even if my beer-fueled back-of-the-envelope casual calculations don’t add up (imagine that), I’m fearlessly confident in the proclamation that we shall always exist. Nobody gets past the troika, not even “Mr. Pudding”. Now if we could all leave the needless, obsessive, and ultimately narcissistic pontificating to the those poor, lamentable souls who happen to comprise my immediate family, why don’t we all get together and enjoy what appears to be one of the most promising football tournaments ever?

All the traditional powerhouses are present. For the first time, insofar as I can remember, no major stars are injured. Poland, Sweden, the Czech Republic, the Ukraine, and Ireland are all back after furloughs of two years or more. Defending European and World Champions Spain are determined to make it three in a row, bringing an estimated 785 million Euros (nearly a billion dollars) worth of talent. In terms of salaries, only Germany comes close with a roster pushing 525 million. That isn’t to say that insanely talented Portuguese, Dutch, Czech, Wop, English and Swedish sides don’t have a nearly equal chance to contend. Who knows? In 2004, the Greeks shocked us all. The Irish, Ukrainians, Danes, Croats, and new-look French all stand ready to do the same.

Who’s ready for some football? It’s been nearly a year since I’ve had the honor of posing that question. Back into the library to set the syndicate up.”  

Why do I bring this up? Mostly because I’m picking Italy. Sorry, La Roja fans. Del Bosque reminds me too much of Löw in that his confidence in selecting a lineup has passed the danger threshold. Those who have been following closely know that I’ve been screaming at him to start to Llorente at striker for a good month. He may very well finally capitulate, but it will too little, too late. Pirlo will give every last ounce in his farewell game. Balotelli surfs cloud nine. This Spanish side just doesn’t inspire confidence. I’ve watched as they’ve experimented with the front three: Fabregas, Torres, Pedro, and Negredo. There simply isn’t a solution, not after the Navigators found a way of neutralizing the “ticky-tack” short-passing scheme. Prandelli may have fewer options, but the blueprint is there for everyone to see.

I reprint this introductory passage to remind everyone that, WE ARE STILL EUROPE! Just as I sincerely wish that those Syndicate Members presently pinned-down by worldly travails rise up for our final match, I need to see Europe unite and ignite together. ALL BETS ARE OFF, as they should be. One way or another, a gigantic party will commence on Sunday evening. It doesn’t really matter who wins. I want to see Spanish fans join the Italian parade if the Azzuri take it. Likewise, I want you Wops to hoop it up with your Latin brothers should you come up short. My message to all Europeans: Time to put the flags away. It matters not which country we belong to. The time has come to get drunk together. Another four years will pass before we can all forget the borders and dance as one. This is OUR time. Plenty of room in Europe for all of our brethren. EU Policy wonks will tell you otherwise……but guess who writes their policy papers?

Fuck the divisions. All together now, my European brothers. We are one, united behind a common flag. Let’s celebrate what it means to be a part of enlightened Western Democracy. Let us all rejoice in the common ground we share on human rights, economic justice, personal liberty, and true freedom. The States beat us on the GDP front, but we’re the ones who truly know how to give people the freedom to do as they please. Sorry, Americans. Out criminal code represents true liberty.

AUF GEHT’S EUROPA!!

THE LINE: ITALY +1 Goal


Editor’s retroactive notes:

RESULT: Spain 4, Italy 0. An immeasurably joyous final. By far the most action-packed final that I’ve ever witnessed. Goals and intrigue throughout. Coarsing through the Goodbyes Section always leaves me a bit misty-eyed. You’ll have to excuse me if the usual intricate analysis seems unbecoming. I’ll cover the goals in as brief a flit as I can manage: Fabregas served up Silva for a 14th minute opener. Barça’s beast then topped himself with an unthinkable feed to Jordi Alba in the 41st. Xavi then outdeked the entire Italian midfield to assist Torres in the 84th. Torres then provided a nifty give-and-go for Mata in the 88th. 4-0 La Roja. Game(s) over.

Why spend do little time on the history that was made that evening? Because our history overshadowed anything that transpired on the pitch. Spain captured their third consecutive crown. Big deal. We closed our tenth consecutive Sportsbook. Go us. All bets were off. This night belonged to everyone. Winners and losers alike. Everyone’s a winner when the final match rolls around ; ) 

Friday, June 29, 2012

EM 2012--Day Eighteen Recap


Day 18: Recap

EM 2012 (Classic)
Record—
Spread: 9-21
Straight up: 13-12-5

Hot Girl Standings---
Country
Tally
Games Played
Ukraine
101
3 (finished)
Spain
82
5
Germany
75
5 (finished)
Italy
72
5
Greece
70
4 (finished)
France
61
4 (finished)
Poland
51
3 (finished)
England
50
4 (finished)
Sweden
49
3 (finished)
Ireland
44
3 (finished)
Portugal
44
5 (finished)
Russia
32
3 (finished)
Croatia
22
3 (finished)
Netherlands
21
3 (finished)
Czech Republic
20
4 (finished)
Denmark
15
3 (finished)

What sort of sound do a collective 12,000+ disappointed German fans emit? It’s one very potent aggregate “Aaaaaaaaaacchhhh”. As timid and inwardly pacifist a people as they may be, they’ll dust off some rather salty language after the Italian fans start racing up and down THEIR streets, waving the Neapolitan in their faces. The German word “Schlampe” doesn’t merely mean “slut”. The connotations are far worse. It’s “cunt” meets “bitch” meets “slut” seasoned with a sprinkling of “cocksucker” and “motherfucker”. Don’t use it on your worst enemies, I beg of you.


Editor’s retroactive notes:

Deeper research into the linguistic nuance of the German language actually suggests that this assessment is wholly INCORRECT. The world “Schlampe” turns out to be as innocuous as “ho”. Oops. 

Americans must be wary of using the word “cunt”, the nuanced overtones of which far exceed the casual British/Australian/South African use of the term. Similarly, the word “slut” approaches the positive end of the spectrum, at least among American males.

(An aside to a male friend) “C’mon, man. There’ll be SLUTS there! Grab you're your keys.”

(In the throngs of passion, a verbal spank if you will) “You’re a naughty little SLUT, aren’t you?” 

No such evolution in German. When a downtrodden and despondent German fan sees a horn-honking car speeding down the avenue with a cute girl hanging out the window waving the Italian flag, the retort, “Verpiß dich du Schlampe!” can be loosely translated as “Fuck off you dirty motherfucking cunt whore!” It’s not nice.

Long trudge back from the Fan-mile. A walk of at least 5 kms or more. The dejected bunch of Krauts also adapted the syllabic cadence of the universal football anthem:

“Whoa…oh,oh,oooh,oooh,…oh
  Whoa…oh,oh,oooh,oooh,…oh”

“All…ITALIENERN..SIND SCHEIßE
  All…ITALIENERN..SIND SCHEIßE”

C’mon, Brüder. What are you doing? IT’S ONLY A GAME! I know it hurts, but it can’t possibly hurt as much as losing nearly half of one’s Sportsbook earnings in one bloody night? (Yes, congratulations Wops. You wiped out almost half of my earnings). In spite of the historic hit I took, I’m still not THAT bitter. Such a sad day when Peter Weis finds himself the Apostle of graceful acceptance. Perhaps the world will end in December after all.

Oh how disheartening it is to see German fans behaving in such a puerile fashion. Nevertheless, I grieve with them. This loss was especially devastating, the eighth consecutive one to the ultra-nemesis Italians in international tournament play. Much like in 2006, the German press opted to pretend as if we were already past the Azzuri and into the final. Hopes we’re so high. Attendance was through the roof.

Every last cute girl in the country was out last night, scantily clad with face painted and flag waving. All of them had to walk home, head hung in shame, while a bunch of haughty dickless male Wops taunted them. A particular subject of frustration came from watching more than a handful of them succumb to the advances of those pumped up Dagos. I may report directly from the Fan-mile: The Italians beat us and went home with our women. Doesn’t get much more depressing.

As much as we all must admit that football is nothing beyond a frivolous escape, it’s always a difficult day in the Fatherland when one must put away the flags. No worries, world. We know the drill. We made a deal and will not renneg on our part of the bargain. The flags are all gone, removed from our cars and windows. You’ll not see them in our shops or public spaces for at least another two years. No more German national anthem. No more German pride until the Summer of 2014. Thank you for allowing us the opportunity to express ourselves for these past three weeks. We very much appreciate being allowed to act like a normal country for this brief holiday. Recognizing that our time is up, we shan’t trouble you any further. Back to work….


Editor’s retroactive notes:

I’ll stand by this one, however. Show some class, people. Present yourselves with dignity. It’s only a game!!

Goodbyes Section

Deutschland (5 games played, 9 goals, 12 points, 75 Hot Girls)


Can we get some more beer over here, Mädel? Danke Schön. Sigh. I should have known. Here’s what I had to write a scant 72 hours ago:

From the Semifinals Section:

The line shall remain low. Buffon and Neuer will keep it close. Anything can happen with Balotelli heating up. I’ve the distinct impression that he’s nowhere near finished. Yes, wop enthusiasts, anything remains possible. Just to err on the side of caution, however, I recommend you keep your hopes lower than the over/under.

Not only is he “not finished”, this kid’s just getting started. At the tender age of 21, he’s already overcome the greatest challenge life will ever throw at him: Rampant Italian racism. Go ahead and take your shirt off, “Reptile”. You deserve it. Anyway, onwards to the future prospects of my beloved Mannschaft. This densely populated country often has the odd distinction of perpetually being the youngest team in the tournament. The reason is none other than a total citizenship of 85 million plus.

Were Ballack a Swede, he would still be playing. German national team retirement age hovers at an unnaturally low 30-years-old. That means Klose (at an outrageously atypical 34-years-of-age) has most certainly played his last. It was courageous of Löw to insert him into the restart eleven. Nevertheless, consider it his swan song. Gomez will get company from sometimes forwards Christian Träsch and Sven Bender. Three young forwards from the U-21 squad will also earn call ups: FC Nüremberg’s Alexander Esswein, 1860 München’s Kevin Volland, and 1899 Hoffenheim’s Peniel Mlapa. Mlapa in particular looks to be our next great “Foreign forward”, following in the tradition of Podolski, Klose, Asamoah, Kuranyi and Gomez. We’re ready for the Togolese phenom. He should be ready for us in two years time.

The German midfield remains one crowded territory. Kroos, Götze, Reus, Schürrle Podolski, Khedira, Schweinstegier, Özil, and Müller are young enough to return. Lest we forget Lars Bender, also a natural midfielder. They’ll be challenged by Lewis Holtby, Patrick Funk, Christoph Moritz, Sebastian Rudy, Patrick Herrmann, Moritz Leitner, Sebastian Roder, Marco Terrazzino, Julian Weißmeier, Abu Bakarr Kargbo, Steven Zellner, Lukas Rupp, and the ever tenacious Ilkay Gündogan. Damn, that’s a list. If only we had more natural strikers. In the most danger of sliding out of the lineup are the still unfit Schweine, the non-clutch Kroos, and the under-pressure Poldolski/Bender/Müller axis.

In defense, Phillip Lahm will return to captain the team. He’ll be joined by Holger Badstuber, Matt Hummels, Benedict Höwedes, Marcel Schmelzer, Jerome Boateng, and a Per Mertesacker I promise you will play better for the Gunners this season. Challenging them will be Shkdoran Mustafi, Mattias Zimmerman, Bjarne Thoeleke, Sebastian Neumann, Lasse Sobiech, Christoph Avevor, and a Dennis Aogo who I assure you will play better.

The greatest danger facing the Nationalelf as we move forward will be Löw’s attachment to his favorite players. He’s been a superb coach, and one can hardly fault him for giving Kroos a chance at Müller’s spot last night. It will be a surprise move that we’ll be discussing for twelve months or more. Still, his seemingly flawless record of attaining the semifinals every year will come back to haunt him if he becomes too comfortable with the cadre he’s assembled. As much as we all love lionhearted players like Lahm, Kroos, Podolski, Hummels, Schweinsteiger, and Özil, he’ll have some exceptionally tough decisions to make when it comes time to preserving some sense of team chemistry while also keeping streaking players in the lineup. We’ll almost certainly qualify for Brasilia in 2014. At the risk of sounding too pessimistic, it looks to be a “feel out year” as opposed to a championship one.

Hey, Mädel! Einer geht noch! Right over here.


Editor’s retroactive notes:

We’ll be back. Don’t you fucking doubt it.

Grades

Professor Pete is in a  pissy mood….and he needs another “Frustbier”. Mädel! Diese Richtung, bitte!

Italy

Mario Balotelli
A+
Gianluigi Buffon
A+
Giorgio Chielleni
A+
Leonardo Bonucci
A
Antonio Cassano
A
Andrea Pirlo
A-
Claudio Marchisio
A-
Federico Balzaretti
B+
Andrea Barzagli
B+
Alessandro Diamanti
B
Antonio Di Natale
B
Riccardo Montolivo
B-
Thiago Motta
C
Daniel De Rossi
C-

Pirlo must be tested for steroids.

Germany

Marco Reus
A+
Manuel Neuer
A
Toni Kroos
B+
Sami Khedira
B+
Thomas Müller
B+
Mesut Özil
B
Matt Hummels
B
Jerome Boateng
C+
Holger Badstuber
C
Lukas Podolski
C-
Mario Gomez
C-
Miroslav Klose
D+
Phillip Lahm
D
Bastian Schweinsteiger
D-

I’ve never seen either Lahm or Schweine play so bad. I hope I never see it again.

Best Euro-trash List Fillers

All the way to 500, syndicate members. Don’t slack off now. The Sky’s the limit.

1) “Fairytale Gone Bad” –DJ Gollum Remix

Vicey: We can cry the pain away, we can find the words to say. As Euro-trash as such lyrics ma be, DJ Gollum has a way of reminding us that this song speaks to all of us who once met a girl who was convinced it was “destiny”.

2) “Love is on Fire” –The Italo Brothers

Vicey: dub..do..dat..da..doo…dub…doo…da…da…da. Skat with the Italo brothers. They’ve no clue what it means to skat, but neither did “Skatman Jon”. Do it anyway.

3) “Unfaithful” –Rihanna

Vicey: Huge hit in Europe. For the uninitiated, this is the song where the cheating girlfriend labels herself “a murderer”. You’re not a murderer, honey. Most every guy has gotten with a girl that had a boyfriend. Furthermore, most every guy has been cheated on. Very few guys have cheated on their girls (I personally have never). Nevertheless, we understand that relationships are formed through such actions. No hard feelings. You’re not a ‘murderer’. Relax.

4) “Hips Don’t Lie” –Shakira (feaut. Wyclef Jean)

Vicey: Love me some Shakira. This Columbian cutie has an amazingly strong voice. She belts it out like a Broadway actress. “This time for Africa” was one incredible World Cup Anthem. This song was even halfway decent. Yet, my apologies to the Fugees fans, Wyclef has been underachieving for years. His shitty English isn’t his fault. Our boy happens to be a Creole Haitian. Still, homeboy keeps cranking out shitty songs like “Gone til’ November”

“I dedicate this record to all of you brothers takin’ long trips,
Down south to Virginia, Baltimore, all around the world.”

Yo, Wyclef. Not only is Baltimore not in the South, how the ignorant fuck you gonna mention Virginia and Baltimore before saying “All around the world”. A’int nobody show you a damn map, motherfucker?

AMERICAN VICEY

“Yo…dis your boy Vicey
I dedicate this record to all those brothers takin’ long trips,
Down south to Houma, Opelousas, all around the world.”

GERMAN VICEY

“Yo…dis your boy Vicey
I dedicate this record to all those brothers takin’ long trips,
Down south to Ettlingen, Pforzheim, all around the world.”

Bottom Line: Wyclef don’t know what the sweet-mickeying fuck he’s talking about. Thank the fuck Christ they disqualified him from the election. Sorry, mates. He fucked up this song too.

 5) “I Turn to You” –Scarlett

Vicey: Actually, don’t turn to me. Turn in the opposite direction. More hope lies there.

6) “Dancing Queen” –ABBA

Vicey: This shitty band (along with the A-Teens) should join Aqua and Masterboy for the red carpet inauguration of their own original list.

7) “Christmas in my Heart” –Sarah Connor

Vicey: You’re right. You’re right. Her awful Euro-trash #1 hit doesn’t compare to the Christmas Album. Germans love a Christmas special. They’re soft like that.

8) “Castles in the Sky” –Paul van Dyke

Vicey: Hate to put a fellow Berliner on this list, but it must be done. Yes, I question my life. Yes, I wonder why. Yes, I can’t hear this song anymore. Lyrical techno wears one out like nothing else.

9) “Verdammt, ich lieb dich” –Matthias Reim

Vicey: No, he didn’t realize that “Dammit, I love you” carried a minor connection to “The Rocky Horror Picture Show”. It wasn’t his fault. He also didn’t realize that the 80s were over.

10) “Heaven” –Bryan Adams

Vicey: I’m sorry. No, you don’t understand. I’M REALLY SORRY. This song has been remixed by something like 1400 European DJs. It’s been sung to me by what feels like 700 ex-girlfriends. It’s only with the heaviest of hearts that I blow my whistle. Have I mentioned that I liked the original “Country Roads” as well?

“Baby, you’re all that I want

Vicey: “Are you sure? Sure you don’t want some more money?

When you’re lying here in my arms

Vicey: Such a nice feeling. Ephemeral as all hell, but why not?

Love is all that I need,

Vicey: HA! Hahahahahaha. What is this “love” you speak of? Undying
affection for someone even though they’ve become boring and predictable? A deep sense of affection for someone in spite of their deviation from your pragmatic plans? A chemical reaction? Endorphins released by your Freudian desire for comfort and security? There we are. That’s “all that YOU need”.

And I found it there in your heart.

Vicey: Do you know what ‘heart’ is? I thought not. Do you know how good it feels to find another human being who makes you feel as if you have it? Thought so.

I’m finding it hard to believe
Vicey: Er….you’re not the only one

We’re in heaven

Vicey: Good for you. No, seriously. I’m honestly quite happy for you. Please enjoy it while it lasts.


Editor’s retroactive notes:


Can’t wait to get back to work on this compilation. ; )

E-mail Riff of the Day

(Female) Reader: I don’t understand why people would voluntarily cheat on their papers. It makes no sense that they would deliberately choose to sacrifice their own education and all that they might gain from it. Can you please explain?

Vicey: Awww, sweetie. You really picked the wrong guy on the WRONG DAY. I’ll provide you an answer so cynical; you’ll want to jump off the next bridge that crosses your line of sight.

Your (obviously undergraduate) naiveté conjures up all-too-familiar images relating to the adorable idealism of youth. I too once believed that hard work and a genuine commitment to accruing new knowledge might be enough to propel me innovatively forward. Sadly, after you complete your post-graduate “Volunteer Year” (The public service aspect of which we all applaud), you’ll find yourself searching for a SLIGHTLY better paying job. You won’t find it. The job market doesn’t appreciate your sharp skills in diplomatic management. It only values the ridiculously primitive algorithmic talent of those failed mathematics majors who are now suaving their way into Wall Street Firms.

Eventually, you’ll come to the conclusion that you must obtain further credentials and head to American Graduate School. You can chuck all of your ideals out the window, as it’s nothing more than a thinly veiled Ponzi scheme designed to milk money out of patsy consumer cogs. They’ll fill your head with all manner of platitudes while gratefully accepting your money. It’s about then that you’ll need someone like me to help you with your papers. Someone who knows precisely what these overpaid (and overworked) deluded Pedagogical Pissants are looking for.

Only then will it all come to fruition. I apologize again, as IT’S BEEN A VERY BAD DAY, and you asked me a question at THE WORST POSSIBLE TIME. The best a Shadow Scholar can close with…………just keep believing in yourself. Fuck those useless bastards. They’re completely useless, and you can trust me on that…..



Editor’s retroactive notes:

Profuse apologies all around. Believe me when I tell you that I’m actually NOT a spiteful dick….at least not on most days. 


Enjoy the final, everyone… 

Thursday, June 28, 2012

EM 2012--Day Seventeen Recap


Day 17: Recap

EM 2012 (Classic)
Record—
Spread: 9-20
Straight up: 13-11-5

Hot Girl Standings---
Country
Tally
Games Played
Ukraine
101
3 (finished)
Spain
82
5
Greece
70
4 (finished)
France
61
4 (finished)
Italy
54
4
Germany
52
4
Poland
51
3 (finished)
England
50
4 (finished)
Sweden
49
3 (finished)
Ireland
44
3 (finished)
Portugal
44
5 (finished)
Russia
32
3 (finished)
Croatia
22
3 (finished)
Netherlands
21
3 (finished)
Czech Republic
20
4 (finished)
Denmark
15
3 (finished)


Hmmm…well so much for an “epic battle for the ages”. Last night’s match was by no means an “instant classic”. The extremely tense, tactically tight fixture facilitated plenty of intrigue, but mostly for us football connoisseurs. We saw plenty of brave headers, interesting give-and-goes, and chess match positional reshuffling. The infamous La Roja “Ticky-tack” short passing gambit was nowhere to be found. Veloso, Moutinho, and later Custodio did an effective job of choking it out.

Over the course of 120 minutes, two sides nearly peerless in the technical aspects of the game essentially neutralized one another. The La Roja celebrations I partook in afterwards were by no means subdued. Fair enough considering the spirit will be repressed come Sunday. Make no mistake, La Roja escaped by the skin of their teeth. They were a bit unlucky that a penalty wasn’t awarded for Pepe’s back pass in the 110th and Iniesta would have scored off that Jordi Alba cutback in the 115th over 90 percent of the time. Still, to illustrate how UNAMIGINABLY razor-thin this ticket to the finals is, ONE MORE MILIMETER further downward on Bruno Alves’s penalty and ONE MORE MILIMETER to the left for Fabregas would have yielded a different result. Unbelievably close. They may as well have tossed a coin.

Goodbyes Section
Portugal (5 games played, 6 goals, 9 points, 44 Hot Girls)

Tough luck, Navigator fans. I’ll admit it was a little tough to get it up for the Spaniards afterwards. I had the football fandom equivalent of Whiskey Dick. Fortunately, the two fan bases actually like another a great deal and everyone was able to get drunk together. The two Iberian neighbors understand each other well, even if their languages are radically different. Ronaldo’s face after the Fabregas penalty said it all. It’s hard out there for a member of “A Selacçao”. Portugal has now been eliminated in the semi-finals of three European Championships. To that we’ll add the semifinals defeat in the 2006 World Cup, the stunning failure to take Europe on home soil in 2004, and the nasty knockouts by the Czechs in 2000, the Germans in 2008, and the Spanish in 2010. Checking into the heartbreak hotel…..once again.

When will the drought end? There exist plenty of grounds for optimism in 2014. Though the tournament is being played in Brazil, we might as well consider it home soil. Plenty of Brazilians will back the Portuguese on days when their own team isn’t playing. C. Ronaldo is not only 27-years-of-age; he’s in good enough form to reclaim his “World Footballer of the Year” title. Twice last night he was again only centimeters away. Postiga and Almeida will be back, though last night’s showing likely proves the latter’s best days are behind him. Veloso, Moutinho, Quaresma, Meireles, and Nani will all return. Ricardo who? Rui Patricio looks awesome. He’ll be up there with Buffon, Casillas, and Neuer in no time.

Some rebuilding will be necessary in defense. While Bruno Alvez is only 30, the Russian turf has a way of prematurely aging a player. Pereira and Pepe also appear past their prime. Look for Pedro Mendes and Luis Martins to make the quick leap. Also one level down are phenom strikers Rui Fonte and Wilson Eduardo, meaning there will be plenty of options to join Ronaldo in attack. With 2014 qualification looking easier than a suppressed Methodist on Prom night, will see you in two years. Looking forward to it already.


Editor’s retroactive notes:
The Navigators continue to fire on all pistons. Don't be surprised if they upset their Portuguese counterparts next year. 

Grades

Professor Pete gets his grades in (on average) 20 some odd hours after the match. Hey…that’s not all that bad.

Spain

Iker Casillas
A+
Sergio Ramos
A+
Gerard Pique
A+
Jordi Alba
A+
Xavi Hernandez
A
Xavi Alonso
A
Alvaro Arbeola
A-
Andres Iniesta
B+
Cesc Fabregas
B+
Sergio Busquets
B
David Silva
B
Jesus Navas
B-
Alvaro Negredo
C-
Pedro
D

Can we start Llorente now? I’m really fucking tired of writing on it.

Portugal

Rui Patricio
A+
Christiano Ronaldo
A+
Miguel Veloso
A+
Bruno Alvez
A
Pepe
A
Joao Moutinho
A
Fabio Coentrao
A-
Custodio
A-
Raul Meireles
A-
Joao Peirera
B+
Silvestre Varela
B+
Nelson Olivera
B
Nani
C+
Hugo Almeida
D

Yes, Ronaldo get’s an “A+” even though he missed that crucial chance minutes from time. He had a beast of a game. Looks as my assertion that the Navigators wouldn’t miss Postiga turned out to be completely wrong. The great thing about writing something like this is that I’m privileged to be completely wrong every single day. How lovely it is when life surprises you.

Best Euro-trash List Fillers

Thanks for the response, syndicate members! I don’t have enough time to get to most of them. Moreover, I can hardly comment on songs I’ve not yet heard of. Nevertheless, we’ll rock some of my obvious omissions. All of them from readers

1) “Deep in the Night (you touch my tra-la-la)” --Gunter

Vicey: How could I have forgotten this one? Oh that’s right. As a German, I simply HAD to block it out. This has to be the most embarrassing song EVER to come out of the Fatherland. To make matters infinitely worse, an artist named “Gunter” produced it. Thanks to this song, American girls I randomly meet in bars sometimes ask me “Do I have to touch your Ding-Ding-Dong?” when I tell them where I’m from. Ugh. Let’s move on.
2) “Xantic” –Bjorn Akesson and Jwaydan

Vicey: A techno anthem like no other. I’ll even concede that I initially liked it.

“No more waiting,
no more standing,
in the dark,
no more wondering,
no more walking,
on a broken path.”

“No existing,
without breathing,
in the life I have”

“So I’ll wait,
till the light comes back.”

These lyrics proved pretty catchy to a writer. Know something? They STILL prove catchy. I like this song…no matter what anyone says. It’s not written that a conspicuously Euro-trash song can’t be a GOOD song as well. Long live Euro-trash!

3) “Don’t Go Away” –Fun Factory

No need to even bother with the lyrics. The name of the band is “Fun Factory”. Similarly, there’s no reason to ever bother with listening to a song written by “Up with People”. The name says it all.

4) “The Cha-Cha Slide” –DJ Caspar

Stay away from all things “dance craze”. Whether it’s the “Electric Slide” or “The Macarena”…just let it go.

5) “The PF Project” –DJ Ayla

Ayla’s still going strong. However, I’ve heard this one more than Miles Davis’s “Kind of Blue”. Can’t hear it anymore.

6) “Di-Jane” ---???

No, I don’t remember the artist either. I just remember the song went something like this:

“Di-jane!
Nyah…nyah..nyah..nyah..nyah,nyah,nyah 
Nyah…nyah..nyah..nyah..nyah,nyah,nyah 
Nyah…nyah..nyah..nyah..nyah,nyah,nyah.”

I also remember formulating a re-mix for one of my favorite college professors

“Diaspora 
Nyah…nyah..nyah..nyah..nyah,nyah,nyah 
Nyah…nyah..nyah..nyah..nyah,nyah,nyah 
Nyah…nyah..nyah..nyah..nyah,nyah,nyah.”

7) “Don’t want no short dick man” –Gillette

Ah yes. This one actually made it to the states, where the radio edit went “Don’t want no short, SHORT man.” Had totally forgotten about this one. (Probably for the best)

8) “I give you my heart.” –Mr. President

So someone other than me remembers “Mr. President”? That’s two people too many, I’m afraid.

9) “Seize the Day” –ReOrder and Stine Grove

Cool. A contemporary one! Yes, Europeans love their trance…for some reason. They’ll also get into Drum & Bass, but regrettably on special occasions.

10) “Dove c’e Musica” Eros Ramazotti

You’re right! What was I thinking? I suppose I was thinking, with some degree of humiliation, that I actually attempted to translate an Eros Ramazotti song during the 2006 Sportsbook. He’s Euro-trash all the way….and I bought his album.

E-mail Riff of the Day

Reader: Loved how you found “George Washington Whiskey” for 5 Euros and posted a picture for all of us to see. Any news on cheap beer?

Vicey: I’m soooo glad you asked. One of the first things I enjoy doing upon entering Germany is a thorough scouting of the local discount supermarket. “Aldi”, “Lidl”, and “Penny Markt” were a mite disappointing this time around. Fortunately, I struck gold over at “Netto”…quite literally. I struck “Schloss Gold”. A six-pack of this generic beer costs 1.69 Euros. It tastes almost as bad as the Walgreen’s Beer in the States, but here’s the twist. Thanks to progressive German recycling laws, the Pfand (or deposit) on the bottles totals 1.50 Euros. For those capable of some quick arithmetic, that’s a 19-CENT SIX-PACK OF BEER. Good Lord. I don’t know who fucked up on this one, but I have a new advertising slogan for the marketing department (free-of-charge, of course)

“Schloss Gold: We’re practically PAYING YOU to drink this swill.”


Editor’s retroactive notes:

That was last Summer. This Summer it’s all about “Big Flats 1901 Premium Brew”!!!


Yes sir. And on that happy note, enjoy Germany vs. Italy everyone…..