Day 1: Recap
Editor’s retroactive notes:
Editor’s retroactive notes:
Three
Rules for writing with a hangover:
1)
Broach your mistakes. Asserverate them if you must.
2)
Keep a glass of water handy. Try to quaff every third sentence or so.
3)
Keep it concise. Everything will be better after breakfast.
Record—
Spread: 0-2-0
Straight up: 0-1-1
Damn you Poles!
It’s called FINISHING!
Hot Girl Standings---
Country
|
Tally
|
Games
Played
|
Poland
|
10
|
1
|
Russia
|
7
|
1
|
Greece
|
4
|
1
|
Czech Republic
|
0
|
1
|
The Poles benefited heavily from the opening ceremony and
all those wide angle shots of a disappointed crowd. Far too many shots of fat
shirtless Greek men in the audience. Those a’int the titties I’m looking for.
Errrr….is there some sort of correlation between girth and back hair?
An admirable performance turned in by the Russians. Those
girls will be headed to an Eastern Seaboard city near you soon via a cramped
shipping container. The Czechs came close to registering once or twice, but
your friendly bookie ultimately employed the following common dismissal
technique:
“Eh? Hmmm….nyah. Maybe? ……nyah. Drunk? ……nyah”
“Ramble On, Vicey”---
--One day we in Europe will learn how to put on an opening
ceremony that doesn’t look like a bad acid trip.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
And
yet….two hundred silicon sun reflectors can prove remarkably alluring.
--I’m with stupid (Thoszewski). Damien Perquis is a Frenchman
who attained Polish citizenship last autumn by way of his maternal grandmother.
He also missed two scoring opportunities that MY maternal grandmother could
have converted. C’est la Merde.
--Greeks got you confused? Avraam Papadopoulos sustained injury
in the 37th when Kyriakos Papadopoulos replaced him. Sokratis
Papastathopoulos was carded in the 35th sent off on double yellows
in the 44th. I hope this clears up any confusion generated during
the ten-minute “papa blitz”.
--Yes, we’ve got pictures of hot fan girls. No, I don’t have
time to post them yet. Forget my camera at a very sullen Czech watering hole
and I’m running late as it is.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Three
Tips for retrieving something you left behind……with a hangover:
1)
Broach your mistakes. Asserverate them if you must.
2)
Keep a glass of water handy. Try to quaff whilst explaining that you were there
last night and stupidly forgot something in the heat of a passionate
discussion.
3)
Keep it concise. Everything will be better after breakfast.
--Congratulations to Woijcech Szczeny, who just lost his job
as Arsenal’s starting keeper…if I were in charge.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Damn
right.
--Nice to see Giorgios Karagounis get carded for bitching.
Also nice to se him blow that penalty. Also nice to see his set up of an
offside Salpigidis was disallowed. Overall, I’m quite satisfied with the Greek
captain’s complete debacle of a match.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Damn
right.
--In addition to thoroughly condemning Damien Perquis, I
also wish to admonish Marcin Wasilewski, Luduvic Obraniak, and Eugen Polanksi
for fucking up royally and ensuring that Polish President Branislaw Komorowski
wore a uninterrupted frown. And where in the hell was Donald Tusk? You’ve got
50,000 rabid fans screaming “Polska! Polska!” Fuck the EU Summit meeting!
--Does Nutella even still need to advertise? It’s fucking
pure chocolate nougat that one wolfs down by the spoonful when one’s too drunk
to operate the toaster oven. Hey….that’s pretty catchy.
--Hats off to “Schwanz Befürworter” for coming through with
another brilliant lineup perfect for the occasion. Dzagoev on the right was an
unconventional choice (or so I wrote in my notebook), but he grabbed the brace
that put it beyond doubt. Kerzhakov too played a splendid game. He made the
right choice with Malafeev and strategically subbed in Kokorin and Pavlyuchenko
so as to slowly build their confidence. Sigh. Sadly, I should have been
partying with the Russians.
--One simply can’t fault the Russian fan who threw the lit
flare on the pitch after Dzagoev’s opener. He had been planning that move since
he poured vodka over his cornflakes yesterday morning.
--The Sexual Euphemism Awards for day one go to all the
British announcers who remarked that the tight inner defense of the Greeks and
Russians precluded satisfactory penetration. German broadcasters earn an
honorable mention for the fact that “Zhirkov” sounds suspiciously like “jerk
off” when pronounced in German while “Shirokov” faintly resembles “she’ll jerk
off”.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
This
isn’t going away. Are we all on the same page? Good.
--Someone needs to tighten Petr Cech’s head clamp. Three
quarter turn to the right should do. Granted, he can hardly be faulted for
three of the four goals. He had no chance. Still, he’s wandering out from the
goalmouth far too much for any Czech fan’s comfort.
--Pavlyuchencko and Plasil currently run neck-and-neck for
the best goal of the tournament thus far. Plasil calmly swept around an
onrushing Malafeev for the fantastic finish. Pavlyuchencko booted in a beauty
whilst fending off a well-position Hubnik. My sincerest apologies to both Roman
and Andrei Arshavin. It would appear the embattled Russian duo isn’t so washed
up after all.
--Leaping up from one’s seat, stomping on the ground,
shouting obscenities at the screen, inadvertently calling the play-by-play…yes
it’s obnoxious. It’s also how your friendly bookie watches a game. Sorry.
--The final entry in this writer’s notebook from last night:
“79th minute. Dzagoev grabs a brace and seals the
Russian victory. You’ve just lost a lot of money. Stop writing in this stupid
fucking notebook now. It’s time to get drunk.”
Here’s hoping tonight’s entry sounds a mite more cheerful….
