Полюбіть вас syndicate members,
Man do I love every last one of you. You’re exhausting and I intend that to be taken as a most sincere compliment. Twenty hours a day is often not enough to keep up with the keyboard assaulters of the syndicate. Those of you who know me most intimately know that this coffee-guzzling info fiend wouldn’t have it any other way. Keep it coming, football fans. The advent of the knockout stages means matters are only getting more interesting. We can all rest come July 1st. Eight teams continue to vie for a European crown that lasts as long as a Presidential Term. A place in next summer’s Confederations Cup awaits. There can be only one. No one is to tune out until the Gathering is complete.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
The Gathering in “The Highlander” always invariably ends
with one friend slicing off another’s head. That blows. The Gathering of “The
Syndicate” always invariably ends with a bunch of friends reconnecting with one
another in the most rejuvantive of senses. That’s much better.
Yaaaawwwn. As desperate as this multitasking shadow scholar
may be for a night off, I promised you a Simmons-Style Mailbag. There may not
be enough space/time/words/brain cells to accommodate everyone, but we’ll give
it the old “college try” anyway. Off we go..
Mailbag
Reader:
Yo, Vicey. If you’re planning on doing a Sports Guy mailbag, you’ll have to
fill the following parenthetical response quotas:
1)
(searching for a comeback) x 5
2)
(nodding politely) x 3
3)
(afraid to say anything) x 3
4)
(something original) x 1
Vicey:
Bwahahahaha. (nodding politely, searching for a comeback, and laughing
uncontrollably). You forgot (raiding the mini-fridge for more small bottles).
Everyone can relax. No syndicate members are out to stalk or outwit Simmons.
The only sad reality pertains to the fact that….yup…we are among his millions
of readers.
Reader:
Thanks to you, I can no longer subconsciously appreciate a passing shot of a
hot fan girl. You and your damn standings
Vicey:
I….I’m so proud…I can barely contain myself. Can I get some Kleenex over here?
I’ve accomplished what most human beings can only dream of. I’ve called
attention to the blatantly obvious. That’s it. I’m through. Go ahead and shoot
me now. No reason for me to exist any longer.
\Reader:
Do you ever get tired of being perpetually sardonic?
Vicey:
Based on that last answer….you do the math.
Reader:
Your frequent misspelling of player names reflects irresponsible journalism.
Vicey:
Yeah, the misspellings are a real deficiency. The problem is….I am actually an
editor and this happens to be my hobby. I have neither the energy nor the will
to comb through my own text looking for player misspellings, homonyms,
misplaced conjunctions, or any of the other mental blind spots I spend most of
my waking life correcting. Moreover…..wait a second…did you just say
“journalism”? Journalism? JOURNALISM?!?! What the Woodward and Bernsteining
fuck are you talking about. “Journalism”!! Christ, I don’t know what you’re
huffing in your mom’s basement, but I sure would like some. “Journalism”.
Hahahaha. “Journalism”
Reader:
Hey, Peter. Why did you use a scale model of the ICE as a vibrator metaphor?
You could have referenced the Beate Uhse Rabbit 4000.
Vicey:
Um….okay. You’re right. Can’t say I know much about vibrators myself…anymore.
(Female)
Reader: Women are united in their hatred for you.
Vicey:
Oh please. Women are not united on where to have lunch. What planet are you
living on? You’ll have to do better than that, girl. Give me something like
this….
(Female):
I’d call you a douche, but that would insinuate that you occasionally get close
to a vagina.
Vicey:
Hehehe. Brilliant. Loved it. This clever counter had me reeling for an entire
morning. I don’t even want to contemplate a comeback. It’s enough to share it
with everyone. Let this be a lesson to all the prissy little bitches who have
seen fit to waster their own time sending me hate mail over the past two weeks.
I’ve received pathetic attempts at vitriol from every last species of insecure
cunt.
I’m a
guy. Your feeble and petty attempts to take me out by the shins won’t work. I’m
not one of the sweet girlfriends you viciously bring down to your level so you
can have someone else to be miserable with. I’m not a novelty you can tame and
cage to make yourself feel better. Call me fugly all you wish. I honestly don’t
care. Try to psychoanalyze me if it improves your self-esteem. I assure there
isn’t even a remote chance I might give even the slightest of shits. Write the
fourteen-point treatise on “whatta man” you have and how his sensitivity dwarfs
mine. It’s going straight into the trash, but write it anyway.
If you
really are so disturbed that you want my attention, flex your creative muscle
and show some wit. The “Hot Girl Standings” are tongue-and-cheek irreverence.
I’ve fallen madly in love with the slightly less-attractive girl you keep
around to make you feel like a goddess plenty of times. Laughs always trump
looks. The more seriously you take yourself, the uglier you are.
Reader:
I’ve composed a poem to keep Fernando Torres out of the lineup:
“When
you walk through the pitch,
you
better watch your back.
don’t
give in to the itch
walk
the straight and narrow track
If you
walk with Llorente,
He’ll
save your soul,
You
better keep Torres,
WAY
DOWN IN THE HOLE.”
Vicey:
Will you be my personal hero?
Reader:
Goddamn fucking mountain monkey inbred lazy pot-smoking Pagan worthless pickled
herring-eating socialist self-righteous shit beer-making anti-American polar
bear infested permanently winter-stricken slutty alcoholic overrated Swedes!
Vicey:
He’s not even finished yet. Here’s the e-mail from one minute later:
Reader:
….and ABBA sucks too. Come on, Sweden. Grow a set and pick a fucking side to be
on. What a fucking bunch of neutral bastards. At least the Swiss back the pope.
Vicey:
I’m no Simmons, but can’t I plagiarize “Yup, these are my readers” just this
once? No, you say. Oh well. I’m just happy we’re all together again.
Actual
Reading ex-girlfriend: Just the same as you always were, Peter. Indelibly cute
until you open your mouth.
Vicey:
(afraid to say anything)
Reader:
Do you realize what a pathetic loser you are for sitting in front of these
games with your notebook and spending entire afternoons writing about them?
Vicey:
Er….well, the short answer is ‘yes’. Considering that I’ve been at it for ten
years, you’re a bit late with that revelation.
Reader:
Why do you refer to Denmark as the “flaccid peninsula”? Everyone knows that
Italy deserves that title.
Vicey:
An interesting point, but the Wops (as much as I hate them) resemble more of a
geographic “swinging dick”. At the very least, Josh Brolin in “No Country for
Old Men” confirms that this idiom still works. The Danish Peninsula conjures up
images of Japanese porn. Sorry, but I’m sticking with my reasoning.
Reader:
So many misspelled names. Are you dyslexic?
Vicey: I
accept your criticism of the names. What remains unforgivable is your failure
to include a Val Kilmer/”Tombstone” reference. Can a shadow scholar get a
little bit of “Let’s have a spelling contest”? C’mon. I don’t believe I’m
asking too much.
Reader:
So much hate in your descriptions of the Croats. Have you considered joining
the NAZI Party?
Vicey:
No, not really. I have, however, considered taking that job at FOX News.
Sometimes I sound like an ignoramus with nothing but ill-informed and poorly
thought-out bile to spew. I could be Hannity’s new partner.
(Female)
Reader: What did your mother do to you?
Vicey:
Hey…that’s none of your damn business!! She’s a good woman who frequently feels
the need to sharply criticize. Rather like you actually….do you have dinner
plans?
Reader:
What hint are we Danes supposed to take?
Vicey:
No hint. It’s just…well…the wife and I have our Samba Dancing class tomorrow.
After that I have to drive her to crocheting class and pick up the kids from
soccer practice – not so subtle yawn – and then there’s the bi-monthly
community garden meeting – another not so subtle yawn – which should be
finished around nine, just in time for me to – third consecutive not so subtle
yawn – come home to pickle the cucumbers and water the plants. I wouldn’t waste
your time with all of this minutia…but I love me some hint-takers. Yes sir.
Nothing like those who know how to take a hint. Have I mentioned that you’re
the hint-takingest hint takers that ever took a hint?
Reader:
Will we finally behold semi-finals that features teams that are actually IN
Europe?
Vicey:
2008 is in the rear view. No Russia. No Turkey. Only Czechs, Wops, Frogs,
Krauts, Navigators, Greeks, Limeys, and Spaniards. All eight are firmly under
the EU umbrella. Six out of the eight even use the single currency….for now.
That may be reduced to five out of eight eventually, but let’s forget about it.
Whew. And on that happy note, I say we move on to other
business.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
The mailbag must stand as it is. No retroactive comments.
Well done, brothers. You deserve FAR more than you’ve received. Remember that.
My
Updated Stats
Spread: 6-18
Straight up: 9-10-5
Out of the tweeds, though still not chipping off the
fairway, oddsmaker wise. Quite a lot of money going to charity this year.
Goodbyes Section
Russia (3 games played, 5 goals, 4 points, 32 Hot Girls)
Looks as if the initial assessment has been vindicated. They were wildly overrated….and you can transmit that information to Vladimir. Schwanz Befürworter has only himself to blame, sticking with Arshavin and Kerzakhov despite their inconsistent play and insisting on using Pavyluchencko as his go guy. These mediocrity stradlers burst out of the gate to stun us all one-punch Ivan Drago style. I had them ranked at the top at the beginning of Round Two. As the group phase progressed, we learned that they weren’t machines. THEY WERE (fallible) MEN!! We observed the first scrape in the second fixture as Polish captain Blaszczykowski all too easily swept past a 34-year-old Konstantin Zyryanov while Zhirkov and Denisov were caught napping. Fatigue soon set in. This group of aging stars struggled to keep their legs alive. Arshavin and Kerzhakov began the third match noticeably out of gas and Advocaat took far too long to switch to either Kokorin or Pogrebnyak.
Advocaat implemented one half of the bold moves recommended
by this bookie in the preview section. The elevation of a streaking Malefeev to
number one backstop worked out well. We shall never know how far this team
might have progressed had Advocaat intrepidly replaced the supplanted
Kerzakhov, the demoted Arshavin, or the in-crisis Pavlyuchencko with new Fulham
frontman Pavel Pogrebnyak. The
legendary Dutch trainer remained steadfast in his obstinate refusal to shake
things up until the bitter end. He wouldn’t administer wholesale changes after
the embarrassing failure to qualify in 2010. He wouldn’t tinker during a
sluggish spell during qualifying. He wouldn’t juggle his lineup as his team
crashed and burned all the way out of this tournament. Sbornaia fans should be
glad he’s leaving.
Let’s talk future. After six years under two Dutch managers
it’s time to go domestic. I fully expect assistant coach Alexandr Borodyuk, who
briefly served as caretaker in 2006, to be promoted come July 2nd.
The former Soviet National team star has over ten years of experience coaching
either the Russian U21 or A-Squad. Zyryanov, Semshov, and Sharaonov are the
only players we can definitely wave goodbye to. No huge losses Depending on
their club team performances. Arshavin, Pavlyuchencko, Malafeev, Ingashevich,
Kerzhakov, and Izmailov might all be back. Based on the new up-and-comers,
things look quite bright in tournaments to come. What a spectacular debut for
Alan Dzagoev, who will now get practice in against the best athletes in the
world at the tender age of 21. Pogrebnyiak approaches his peak, but he
shouldn’t be past it come 2014. Kokorin will be a super striker someday and
Glushakov appears a solid future anchoring midfielder. The Ruskies drew an
auspicious group for 2014 qualifying. By all accounts the two slots belong to
them and the Portuguese. Israel, Azerbaijan, Luxembourg, and Northern Ireland
are nothing more than cannon fodder. Hence, we’ll see them in 2014. A promising
next generation leads me to believe we’ll see them in 2016. In 2018, they
automatically qualify as hosts. An exciting era dawns for Russian football. Who
would bet against them on synthetic turf?
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
The udder-less Russians are making a play. They’ve surged
past the Jews to earn second place in their group. Pogrebnyak continues to
shine radiantly.
Poland (3 games played, 2 goals, 2 points, 51 Hot Girls)
Polska, Polska, Polska. I did not anticipate having to write your necrology so soon. How could you flounder so thoroughly? The chants of your fans, the unprecedented euphoria, the most talented squad you’ve ever had, the unflinching love/faith of a loser bookie…..WHY?!? Over the past ten years you’ve evolved from my favorite subject for an easy barb to one my favorite EU countries. Now you’ve let me down. You’ve let your country down. You let an absolute minimum of 51 hot girls down. Keep those heads down…where they belong.
In previous tournaments you’ve been cursed in the group
draw. Now you’ve summarily failed to break out of the “Group of Life”.
Difficult to ascertain where it all began to go to shit, but I blame Perquis,
Murawski and Wasilewski; three players you need to dump faster than a girl with
daddy issues. Smuda’s persistent neglect of Wojtkowiak and Wawrznyiak
rightfully earned him an unceremonious dismissal. The defense was simply too
soft up the middle. All three opponents exploited it early and often. I’ve no
interest in debating the merits of the goalkeeper controversy, for this was
most certainly NOT the problem. In addition to having terrible fullbacks, Smuda
never devised an adequate solution for central midfield or his wingers. Dudka,
Polanksi, and Murawski never looked comfortable passing to one another.
Pisczech, Rybus, and Obraniak rarely made it out to the flanks, let alone had
the opportunity to work in crosses.
While the outfielders all possessed above average talent,
there simply wasn’t any chemistry. At fault may have been the lack of truly
competitive matches during the qualifying stages. Automatically qualified as
hosts, the Bialo-Czerwoni played only friendlies. The laid back pace of such
meaningless matches appears to have precluded any chance for the Barber Shop
Poles to coalesce. One may assemble all the capability one wishes. Teams crystallize
only under pressure. Natural diamonds don’t form in the crust.
Here’s where we’re headed: Nowhere. The White Eagles need a
new coach and a new mentality in less than three months. The 2014 Qualifying
Campaign does not look promising. They’ll have to fend off England, the
Ukraine, and (in all seriousness) a decent Montenegrin side just to earn a
playoff spot. Pisczech, Blaszczykowski, Lewandowski, and Szczeny are all very
young in addition to being especially gifted. There we have the good news. The
“magical trio” can carry Polska through if nothing else. Holding out hopes of
seeing you soon, brothers.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Polska may consider themselves all but eliminated. Shitty
performances from Lewandowski and Blaszczykowski have them pushed down by the
more menacing Ukrainians. It’s unlikely we’ll see them next Summer.
Denmark (3 games played, 4 goals, 3 points, 15 Hot Girls)
What might have been had captain Thomas Sorensen not incurred that last-minute back injury? They were almost good enough without him, thanks to excellent defensive play from Agger, Kjaer, Simon Poulsen, Jacobsen, and Andersen. Krohn-Dehli, Kvist, Erisken, Zimling and Bendtner provided us with some highly entertaining offensive fireworks. Everything hinges on whether the “Olsen’s Eleven” Era will continue or come to a close.
From Round Two:
“Just
how significant was the Danish Delight? They’re now at even odds to advance out
of the “Group of Death”. The “Danish Dynamite” are back! The most significant
victory for the Legoliers since 1992. Twenty years after taking Europe, it’s
not entirely impossible they might do so again. If they survive this group
anything remains possible, even a Rehhagel Run through the group stages. The
Danish Football Association showed tremendous patience with Olsen, refusing to
part ways even after his gang failed to qualify for two consecutive tournaments
in 2006 and 2008. Next up for the legend: The Navigators. Can an underdog
Cinderella knock off the mighty Portuguese? Er…well it has been eight years.”
As of this column, Olsen remains head trainer. He has,
however, hinted that burnout may force him to do the Klinsmann. It remains
unclear what sort of identity this team may have without him. Though the entire
talent core will return, the Danes have not done well historically without a
steady coach. The phenomenal partnership of Sepp Piontek and Richard Møller
Nielsen spanned seventeen glorious years, culminating in the “Danish Dynamite”
European Championship victory of 1992. All the Poulsens, Rasmussens, Sorensens,
Nielsens, Jorgensens, Larsens, and Thomasens need a reliable father figure in
order to thrive. Yes, this peculiar little flaccid peninsula with fewer
surnames that Iceland cannot function without the guiding hand of a benevolent
shepherd. Here’s hoping Olsen retains the cane.
It’s likely kits up for Christian Poulsen, Lars Jacobsen,
and Dennis Rommedahl. Sørensen missed his final encore. At thirty-seven years
of age he won’t be back. Otherwise, no shortage of legitimate reasons to be
giddy about this very young team’s prospects. Eriksen is only twenty, Kjaer
only twenty-three, Pedersen only twenty-four Lasse-Schöne twenty-six, Agger,
Kvist, Zimling, Simon Poulsen twenty-seven. Look for a thrilling team,
captained by emerging star Krohn-Dehli to blow past the Czechs and Wops to
become the first surprise qualifier for 2014. I’m confident after the display I
saw.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
The Danes find themselves deep in the hole. One win and
three draws leaves them without much hope, especially considering they have to
face the Czechs, Bulgarians, and Wops again. Six points against Armenia and
Malta won’t prove enough…assuming they even get those.
Netherlands (3 games played, 2 goals, 0 points, 21 Hot
Girls)
’ve written so much about the Dutch disaster that I can hardly be bothered to summon an original thought. Bert van Marwijk should have been fired yesterday. Geerd Wilders could have done a better job coaching this team. Promote Phillip Cocu and let’s start from scratch. Ditch Robben and don’t call up back up until he gets that bald head of his straight. Ditto Ron Vlaar. Extra ditto Jetro Willems. Extra rabid ultra ditto Nigel De Jong. Recall them when they’re ready to play again.
Given the imminent retirement of Mark Van Bommel, we’ll need
a new captain. Van der Vaart did an admirable job with the armband on Sunday,
so let him keep it. Schneijder can serve as alternate. Huge question marks as
we embark on the road to 2014. Jan Huntelaar, Kuyt, Mathijsen, and Heitinga.
All are young enough to return, but are at they age when their form might begin
to dip precipitously. All we know for sure is that Wilfred Bouma is finished
and van Persie will star in at least two more tournaments. Time to give Kevin
Strootman, Luuk de Jong, and Ibrahim Afellay a very serious look against the
meeker qualifying opponents. That the Dutch will qualify for 2014 is already a
forgone conclusion. They’ve drawn the weakest group. Only the Turks and
Romanians pose a modest threat. They have two years to find a new coach and a
somewhat new look. All that remains is to leave you with the initial assessment
of the squad this bookie picked to top the group. Such immense talent. Such
high hopes. I too am shell-shocked.
“Clockwork
Orange returns in grandiose fashion after nine wins in ten qualifying matches.
This team has it all: Speed, impeccable lateral ability, and unstoppable short
game. They can attack you from every angle, whether it’s Robben tearing up the
flanks to unleash one of his pinpoint switches or van Persie, Kuyt, and
Sneijder working a give-and-go up the central pitch with an elegant flair that
would drive a Ballerina to suicide. They’ve lost nothing since their Sherman’s
march to the Final in 2010. In fact, if anything they’ve improved
significantly. Klaus Jan Huntelaar’s game has improved by leaps and bounds.
Footballer of the Year Robin van Persie is in the best form of his career.
Sneijder and van Bommel are lighting up Serie A for their respective Milan
clubs. There’s not a kink in the chain as proven by their gorgeous, almost
flawless pace on the pitch. If you’re looking for a favorite to capture Europe,
look no further.”
Sob. There’s even a solid THREE MORE PAGES of that.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
The Dutch are virtually guaranteed a spot. When they last
failed to qualify (2002), it stood as nothing more than an aberration. At
present they stand five points clear of their nearest challengers. They’ll pad
those stats with more lopsided wins against Hungary, Romania, and Turkey. I do
believe they’ll have no difficulty destroying Estonia and Andorra. Anyone up
for a SEVEN GOAL Spread?
Croatia (3 games played, 4 goals, 4 points, 22 Hot Girls)
Suspend them. Kick them the fuck out. Make them ineligible for 2014 and beyond. The Turks and Russians have more class than these tubs of trash. If you haven’t been following my anti-Croat tirades, they’re strewn about this book like cigarette vending machines in Germany. You won’t have to wander far to find one. One block North, South, East, or West. You can’t miss them. I’m counting on you, Serbs, Scots, Macedonians, Welsh, and Belgians. Don’t let these dirty savages back in! Defend the citadel! Had mostly only kind things to say about the Blazers before this tournament. You’ve officially lost me now and forever.
The Croats may very well find themselves in an unthreatening
transitional mode anyway. Stick a fork in Simunic and Pletikosa as they’re more
well done than a Drusilla steak. Srna and Pranjic have worked the wings long
enough. They’re running on stumps. I previously instructed Slav enthusiasts to
press the Jelavic panic button and I wasn’t kidding. After scoring in the
opening match, he tanked badly. Also did not like what I saw of Vukojevic. No
clue what was wrong with Niko Kranjcar, but there had to be some reason we
didn’t see more of him.
Of course, the bulk of the evidence overwhelmingly suggests
that we won’t have a road-flare free tournament in Brazil. Many talented
youngsters, notably Strinic, Perisic, Modric, Rakitic, Modric, and Mandzukic,
had excellent tournaments and are just getting started. Barring some unforeseen
miracle, they will qualify for 2014. Fuck. Now I’m in a really shitty mood.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Prepping the hate sensors for their return. All circuits
flowing? All systems go? FUCK YOU!!
Ireland (3 games played, 1 goal, 0 points, 44 Hot Girls)
From Round 3:
“We
love ya, Micks. Come back anytime. Since we’ve already covered their sheer
unadulterated awesomeness, let’s indulge in a brief discussion of where the
Boys in Green are headed. Trappatoni remains under contract until the end of
the 2014 World Cup. The FAI will certainly not fire him, not after he elevated
this meek squad all the way to the Euros. Likewise, Trap appears unlikely to
resign. He’s far from finished and most definitely doesn’t want to return to
Germany, Switzerland, Austria, or his home country. Hence, it looks as if the
partnership will continue for at least another two years.
2014
will prove EXTREMELY difficult to attain. The Irish find themselves drawn in a
group that features both the Germans and the Swedes, with room for only two to
advance. Moreover, it appears unlikely that the core stars of the team can hang
on for another 24 months. At thirty-six years of age, Shay Given is finished.
Keiren Westwood cannot fill his boots, so you’re on the hunt for a new keeper.
Richard Dunne, John O’Shea, Keith Andrews, Damien Duff, and captain Robbie
Keane are also likely kits up. Trappatoni may be a superb motivator, a shrewd
tactician, an expert judge of talent, and even a keen substitute selector. One
thing one cannot label him is a “re-builder”. He’s not proven adroit at
incorporating new talent into a squad and introducing new players. This was
perhaps his major failing as the Italian head coach. Stubborn sage that he is,
he’ll stick with his boys through thick and thin. Unfortunately this means we
won’t be seeing the Irish in Brazil. At least another four years until Erin
hangs with us.”
Little has changed since this was written. Trapp remains
coach and we await his decision. We also await Robbie Keane’s official decision
on retirement. We also wait for 2016…dammit I can’t go four years without the
Irish.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Fight you bloody bastards, FIGHT! C’mon, Micks! WE NEED
YOU! First place in the group belongs to my Fatherland. WE STILL NEED YOU. Beat
the crap out of those Austrians. The Land of Hitler must be defeated.
The Ukraine (3 games played, 2 goals, 3 points, 101 Hot
Girls)
Sob. To describe the impending reformation as “the end of an era” would not accurately convey the massive changes this mainstay will shortly undergo. It’s the “end of an aeon”. For over twelve years we’ve known that this team would feature Andrei Shevchencko, Anatoly Tymoschuk, Vcayslav Shevchuk, Andrei Voronin, Serhiy Nazarenko, and Ruslan Rotan. Now they’re all gone, put out to pasture, left to wander in the wilderness with Dynamo Kiev. That’s all folks. They even face a daunting 2014 qualifying group. Doubtful we’ll see them again for some time.
Any rebuilding recipe begins with shipping the youngsters
out to cut their teeth on the level of play in Europe’s best leagues.
Thankfully, the new crew played adroitly enough to engender some interest from
top European clubs. Defender Denys Harmash let fly impressively a few times,
meaning a few Bundesliga teams will try to snatch him up on the cheap. Oleh
Gusev also demonstrated some latent long-range ability. Plenty of teams east of
the Danube will want a closer look. As many bugs as there are in the Yarmolenko
software program, Liverpool, Bremen, Lazio, and Wigan are rumored to be
interested in rewriting that code. Milevsky has been linked to several second
Bundesliga sides. Rakitisky looks to have booked a ticket out of Donetsk.
Oleh Blokhin can only keep his fingers crossed that the
burning intrigue from abroad doesn’t fizzle out. The primary reason this team
failed concerns the lack of any players considered good enough to play outside
the domestic league. Voronin barely hung on at Dynamo Moscow while Tymoshuck
saw his contract with Bayern terminated. Other than them, the entire squad
played for one of the Ukrainian Dynamos, Metalists, or Shakthars. An infusion
of new talent can actually turn out to be an uplifting influx. Nevertheless,
unless these players are afforded the opportunity to hone their skills against
sharper competition, one might as well write off the country for years to come.
So it’s all over my beloved Ukrainians. Yes, we can focus on
freeing Julia now. Just make it quick and make sure retires. I don’t want to
discuss this woman anymore.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
As noted above, the Ukrainians have doused the Poles and
are nearly free. Julia still isn’t free, but I honestly can’t be bothered with
her.
Sweden (3 games played, 5 goals, 3 points, 49 Hot Girls)
From Round 3:
“Now,
this IS a surprise. Adios Hamren and the parsimonious Ibrihimovic. Feel not
sorry for these perpetual qualifiers. They’ll best Ireland to make the grade
for 2014. The entire squad will be back. Perhaps even Mellberg and Wilhelmsson.
Hardly worth wasting space on these salutary Scandinavians. Shed not a single
tear. Their fate was well deserved. Ibrahimovic is nothing more than a
narcissistic ball hog. Why do you think Inter, Barça, Ajax, and Juventus were
willing to part with him?”
I stand by these words. With the notable exception of 2010,
the Swedes have not missed a tournament in over sixteen years and I’m fresh out
riffs involving Saab, Volvo, Ikea, meatballs, Stockholm Syndrome, buxom blondes
and absurd accents. It’s likely the end for Hamren, who has now twice failed to
recapture the mojo of the Lägerback era. Rebuilding time for the Swedes, who
will most certainly now lose Anders Svensson, Olof Mellberg, Johann Elmander,
and Christian Wilhelmsson. A looming point of contention concerns whether
Ibriihimovic should retain the armband, or hand it over to Källström.
They need a new lead striker. Rosenberg was a bust in his
debut. Hyssen is too old and Toivonen….well, let’s cut him some slack. He did
as well as reasonably could have been expected. Nice smash home from Sebastian
Larsson last night. Ibrihimovich remains agile enough to pull of a 45-degree
trike. They’ll qualify for 2014. Bet your restructured mortgage on it.
Onwards to the lines. I remind syndicate members that a
shootout win counts as “+1.” PLEASE READ THAT SENTENCE AGAIN TO AVOID ANY
MISUNDERSTANDINGS. Got it? The actual differential of goals scored during the
shootout is IMMATERIAL. A team may win on penalties 5:3, 3:1, 4:0, whatever. A
shootout win counts as a ONE GOAL win.
All lines are calculated personally by your friendly bookie
Vicey….The only male chauvinist who volunteers his time for political advocacy
that relates to women’s rights. “The correspondence that follows is, as always,
crafted with sincere amity for those who appreciate sharp wit and a small extra
spot of fun in their day. Should you prefer solemnity, drama, and conflict…
kindly return to watching the “Dallas” reboot.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
It’s all over. Forget it, Blaugults. Toivonen can’t lift
this team. No way.
Thursday
Czech Republic vs. Portugal
vs. 
Four years have passed since Ronaldo, Quaresema, and Deco pelted the hapless Czechs 3-1 in Geneva. Here’s what I wrote in anticipation of the match.
From the 2008 Sportsbook, Round 2:
“Brückner
has to sit Koller. It’s Barros’s turn anyway. Bring the old man on in relief.
He’ll also have to make substantial changes to the midfield if he wishes to
stop that Ronaldo-Deco-Simao Axis. The Czech 4-5-1 is conducive to absorbing
the Portuguese 4-2-3-1. On the scrap of paper I just scribbled it on the Czechs
are looking very vaginal indeed, with Jarolim, Galasek, and Polak absorbing the
phallic Deco-Nuno Gomez thrust. Yes, I’m spending my time in the library
wisely. At least I’m decent enough to quietly scrawl some vaguely sexual
fenestrations on a scrap of paper. The girl behind me hasn’t stopped talking on
her cell phone for the past half hour. We’re in the library, bitch! Shut the
fuck up!
Where
was I? Oh right. The cavernous pocket of the Czech midfield should be able to
withstand the undulating pulsations of the Portuguese attack long enough to
make this match competitive. Eventually, however, Portuguese penetration will
lead to a climactic copulation the timing of which cannot yet be determined…Now
if you’ll excuse me, a certain yapping Soristitute is begging to have her
mobile slapped away from her face.”
Some things have changed, others are radically different.
I’m still surrounded by irritating women, but the diagram looks so completely
non-sexual that I’m fully flaccid. The Czechs ditched the conspicuously vaginal
4-5-1 in favor of the phallic 4-2-3-1. They stuck with it even as Rosicky
missed the third fixture. Conversely, the Navigators have done away with the
ultra phallic 4-2-3-1. The Navigators now sport the “diaphragm formation”, a
well-spaced 4-3-3. Jan Koller no longer plays, but a young Czech midfielder
that can easily be confused for him does. I bring up Daniel Kolar because it
looks as if he’ll have to fill in for Thomas Rosicky again. The Arsenal
talisman continues to struggle with his Achilles tendon. The Czechs are not the
same without their captain. This happens to be a big fucking deal.
Apart from this loss, plenty of grounds for optimism in the
Narodak camp. They’ve finally cracked the midfield code. Pilar and Jiracek have
bagged two goals apiece. Plaisil appears sharp as ever. Hübschmann hasn’t been
spectacular, but he gets the job done. Limbersky, Kadlec, Sivok, and Gebre
Selassie have gelled at the back. Michal Kadlec in particular is rearin' and
ready to go, prepared to upset the Iberians just as his father Miroslav did in
the 1996 Quarterfinals.
We won’t see a blowout. One must also take the minutes of
Paulo Bento’s starting eleven into account. Only Postiga, Meireles, and Nani
have been well handled. The rest are either at or close to the full 270. As
tired as C. Ronaldo may be, I believe his full throttle adrenaline rush will
carry over from the Dutch match. Postiga should have enough leg to endure for
120 if necessary. Varela evinced his power off the bench. We’ve not yet seen
Almeida, but he’s a beast as well. We’ll set a somewhat inflated line to
encourage participation. It’s also possible the Czechs might quit after the
match moves beyond their grasp. They’ve already done so once in this
tournament.
Projected Lineups:
“Narodak”
Milan Baros
|
Vaclav Pilar D. Kolar P. Jiracek
|
Jaroslav Plaisil Thomas
Hübschmann
|
David Limbersky M. Kadlec T. Sivok T. G. Selassie
|
Petr Cech
|
“The Navigators”
C. Ronaldo
Helger Postiga Nani
|
J. Moutinho
M. Veloso R. Meireles
|
Fabio Coentrao Joao Pereira
|
Pepe Bruno Alves
|
Rui Patricio
|
Prop Bets (as always, feel free to offer your own):
Over/Under ---4 Goals
120 Minutes— straight up
Penalty Shootout— 2 to 1
C. Ronaldo brace—straight up
C. Ronaldo hat trick---2 to 1
C. Ronaldo set piece goal—straight up
Nani brace---2 to 1
Helger Postiga brace—2 to 1
Rui Patricio howler—2 to 1
Bruno Alves goal—3 to 1
Meireles substitution (75+)—straight up
Pepe substitution (60+)—2 to 1
Moutinho substitution (80+)—2 to 1
Oliviera start—3 to 1
Varela substitution (85)+--2 to 1
Quaresma substitution (75+)---straight up
Miguel Lopes substitution (55+)—2 to 1
Rolando substitution (65+)—2 to 1
Ricardo Costa substitution (90+)---3 to 1
C. Ronaldo booking—straight up
Rui Costa straight red—3 to 1
Pereira double yellows---4 to 1
Rosicky start—straight up
Jiracek brace—2 to 1
Baros brace—3 to 1
Plaisil from outside the 18---3 to 1
Cech howler—straight up
Peckhart substitution (60+)---2 to 1
Necid substitution (80+)---straight up
Hübschmann substitution (75+)—2 to 1
Darida substitution (90+)—straight up
Hubnik start—3 to 1
Hubnik substitution (70+)—2 to 1
Limbersky substitution (75+)—straight up
Sivok straight red—3 to 1
Gebre Selassie double yellows—3 to 1
THE
LINE: Portugal + 2 Goals
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
RESULT: Portugal 1, Czech Republic 0. Ronaldo showed up
sporting a ridiculous “gangster haircut.” Why not begin with that? Bilek also dropped
Kolar in favor of Darida. That aside, we’ll go ahead and focus on Cristiano
Ronaldo’s haircut.
Rather than spike up his hair like your typical American
teenage douchebag, Ronaldo slicked it back like a true douchebag. Darida
produced a sumptuous cross that Baros almost latched onto…but it was no match
for the oiled-down Ronaldo. The slimy motherfucker greased his way past FIVE
Czech defenders to face Cech one-on-one five minutes before the close of the
opening half.
Darida would be substituted out in the 61st.
Jan Rezek came on in his place, but no one was touching Ronaldo. Not on this
evening at least. Within a couple of minutes, Ronaldo nearly bested Cech via
one of his polished free kicks. The outside post intervened. Nani, Moutinho,
and Postiga soon furnished Cech with actual challenges. The Chelsea Number One
deflected them all with the ease of a First-Grader batting away a Frisbee. He
similarly stonewalled Meireless just after the hour mark. Though the save could
hardly be described as epic, Kadlec cleared the leakage off the line for the
second consecutive match.
Hugo Almeida had been trying all night to justify his
early substitution. Finally he found Nani on the left wing, and the ManU
Mainstay switched over to Joao Moutinho on the right. Moutinho then lifted up a
lingering cross that Ronaldo had plenty of time to deal with. Goal Navigators.
The precision header in the 79th deflated the Czechs so thoroughly
that they had nothing else of note to offer. Game, set, and match to the man with
the oleaginous du.
Friday
Deutschland vs. Greece
vs. 
This is not happening. I’m having one of my patented nicotine fever dreams. No, no, no. Wake up Vicey! You don't have to write on the most contentious snafu that the EU has ever faced…..yet again. It’s all an over-caffeinated hallucinatory nightmare. You won’t have to compose still more words on the crisis that will inevitably tear Europe apart at the seams. It’s all an illusion. The Matrix has you. Wake me up, Morpheus! I want to learn kung-fu!
Standing by to awake via my usual morning yell of sheer
unadulterated horror. Ready vocal cords. Vocal cords check. Prompting craving
for three cigarettes and an extra strong pot of black coffee. Cravings in
position. Check. Cue morning whisky breath, crusty flakes from both eyes, bed
hair, and a dark foreboding sense that I made a drunken ass out of myself the
previous evening. All wake up realizations prepped and ready. Check. Alarm
clock set to unreasonable hour? Check, check. Do we have morning erection
liftoff? Check. Profound sense of self-hatred and general disappointment ready
to dominate front temporal lobes? Check. All systems go. T-minus
10….9…8…7….main cognitive capacity start….6…..5…..4….we have head
stir…..3….2…1…..
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”
Oh thank Christ. It was all a dream. I don’t have to write
about the European Financial Stability Facility for the 234,834th
time in over two years. No more analysis. No more papers. No more data. No more
explanations and apologies. The universe has kindly bestowed upon me nothing
more than the divine relaxation that comes with frivolous football watching. My
vacation remains intact. It was all a dream. Ask the syndicate members. They
were in it. It was all a…..hold up just a second….WHERE DID I GET THESE LINES
FROM??!?
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”
Fuck me. What the Eurobarometric fuck does a Shadow Scholar
have to do to catch a break? I bust my ass a solid 330 days a year to bring in
annually less than 1/20,000th of what these footballers make in a
week. (Yes, I actually did the calculations). All I ask for is one measly month
during which I can concentrate solely on football. No such things as weekends
in my world. Vacations? Ha. Maybe I can afford one week a year. I’ve already addressed the most salient
points of the protracted and prolonged conflict in this very Sportsbook. I’ve
covered the future of Europe in my opening remarks. I’ve offered the Greeks
Olive Branch after Olive Branch in the preview sections. I’ve acknowledged
German responsibility and admitted that we let the politics of
Meckenburg-Vorpommern get in the way of coherent EU policy. I’ve congratulated
the Greeks on their successful re-vote on Sunday and the decision to stay in
Europe. I’ve been sympathetic. I’ve been truthful. I’ve even called for unity,
fellowship, and an outright truce during the festival. WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS
TO ME??
Dammit, you amphora-suckling bastards! You not supposed to
be here. Curse you for making me think about ACTUAL work. You’ve crossed the
line. All I wish to do is talk football. I don’t want to call you bunch of
unkempt ogres. I have no desire to rechristen you the Butt “Piratiko”. My
country has consistently fucked you in the ass using the Escrow Account Wires
EVERY DAY for the past sixteen months. Must we really do so on the pitch as
well? Do you actually like it when a stranger fucks you in the ass? Hmmm…well
you are Mediterranean.
Enough. No more. Let’s talk football and nothing else. The
Greek Pirate ship takes on a fair amount of water. Captain Giorgios Karagounis
is suspended on double yellows. He deserved it after a flagrant dive (no
argument, syndicate brothers. It wasn’t pure simulation, but he deserved it for
embellishment). Jose Holebas also has to sit after his delay of game antics
against the Russians. Avraam still hasn’t recovered from his injury and
Sokratis and Gekas are rumored to be hurt. The Uni-brows should have no real
trouble actually fielding a team, but it will be an old and slow one. They’ve
little choice but to switch to a 4-4-2.
As events in Gulf of Aden will make plain, Krauts are
nowhere near as good as the Americans at shooting Pirates point blank in the
face. I expect a very tightly contested match, one that may even go 120.
Fitness issues force my hand. The line must remain low.
From the Day 10 Recap:
With
only four days left before the quarterfinal clash, I’m concerned for the
overall fitness level of the following players:
1)
Mesut Özil
Just
look at his face. He and Lahm both look red and sunken after giving it their
all. I carry a similar face after running for 90. It takes a solid three days
before the soreness dissipates.
2)
Thomas Müller
Taking
nothing away from him. It was indeed an extraordinary save from Stephan
Andersen in the 6th. Nevertheless he needed to come pout well before
the 84th. His placement was all over the pace, a bigger mess than a
chronic masturbator underneath a ceiling fan.
3)
Sami Khedira
By no
means the dullest knife in the drawer, he was less than sharp in both his
positioning and midfield conducting. Give him an extended rest cure over the
break.
4)
Bastian Schweinsteiger
Schweine’s
season-long struggle with injury cannot help but induce heart palpitations
anytime one sees him running. How much pressure can that reconstructed ankle
take? I’d feel more comfortable if we made doubly sure that he’s not pushing on
it too hard.
Löw may have some surprises for us in his starting eleven.
He hasn’t even touched Reus, Götze, or Gündogan yet. In all likelihood,
however, he’ll spare them (and Kroos) in the event that he needs fresh legs in
extra time. Boateng or Bender? Intriguing question, but it’ll most certainly be
Boateng for now. Very little doubt that we’ll emerge victorious. A sixth sense
conveys to me that we’ll have to work disproportionately hard to attain the
Semis. They’ll try to raise Hellenic Hell, but German patience will prevail.
Projected Lineups:
“Die Mannschaft”
Mario Gomez
|
Lukas Podolski Mesut Özil Thomas Müller
|
Bastian Schweinsteiger Sami Khedira
|
Phillip Lahm Holger Badstuber M. Hummels J. Boateng
|
Manuel Neuer
|
“To Piratiko”
Theofanis
Gekas Giorgios Samaras
|
Ionnis Maniatis Dimitris Salpigidis
|
Grigoros Makas Kostas
Katsouranis
|
G. Tzavelas K. Papadopoulos S. Papstathoupoulos V.
Torosidis
|
Michallis Sifakis
|
Prop Bets (as always, feel free to offer your own):
Over/Under ---3 Goals
120 Minutes— straight up
Penalty Shootout— 2 to 1
Gomez brace—straight up
Gomez hat trick---2 to 1
Klose goal---straight up
Özil from outside the 18---straight up
Lahm from outside the 18—straight up
Schweinsteiger set piece goal—2 to 1
Neuer howler—4 to 1
Bender start—straight up
Schmelzer start—3 to 1
Gomez substitution (90+)—2 to 1
Khedira substitution (75+)—2 to 1
Götze substitution (90+)--3 to 1
Kroos substitution (85+)—2 to 1
Schürrle substitution (60+)—2 to 1
Höwedes substitution (90+)—2 to 1
Schweinsteiger booking---straight up
Badstuber penalty---3 to 1
Gekas goal—2 to 1
Samaras goal---straight up
Liberopoulos start—straight up
Torosidis howler—3 to 1
Sifakis howler—3 to 1
Avraam start----straight up
Sokratis substitution (60+)---2 to 1
Gekas substitution (45+)---straight up
Fortounis substitution (55+)---2 to 1
Fotakis substitution (55+)---2 to 1
Maniatis substitution (75+)—2 to 1
Gekas dive—straight up
Kyriakos double yellows—3 to 1
THE
LINE: Mannschaft +1 Goal
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
RESULT: Germany
4, Greece 2. Löw finally began earning his salary….or so said the dude
sitting next to me as we watched Marco Reus pound in the 72nd minute
deal-closer. He actually said “Löw hat seinen Verdienst endlich verdient”…and
that’s my best guess insofar as a translation is concerned. My father was
unavailable to watch the match with me. Scheduling conflict. No bother. I found
the dingiest bar on the Fußgänger and got straight to work by firing up the
laptop. Don’t ask me why a dirty bar full of tattooed bikers had wireless
Internet access. It makes no sense to me either.
Löw instituted massive lineup changes. Klose would start
in place of Gomez. Reus would take Poldi’s place on the right. Schürrle would
occupy Müller’s position on the left.
It was almost as if Löw had listened to all the ignorant and our
incessant bellowing about Klose, Götze, and Reus. Faced with a weakened
opponent, he wished to give us all what we craved….whilst also signaling to his
players that he was mercurial enough to give others a chance should someone
fail to perform.
The Masterstroke worked out splendidly. Without
Karagounis, the Greek midfield came nowhere close to controlling Schweine,
Özil, or Khedira. The peppy midfield ended up criss-crossing to Klose for an
early disallowed goal. Badstuber, Reus, and Özil also supplied near misses as
the half wore on. To Piratiko never came close to threatening Neuer. A full 40
plus yards outside the 18 Lahm received an Özil pass and unleashed a dipping
shot for the opening 39th minute goal. His bending arc was very much
reminiscent of the opener he scored against Costa Rica in the 2006 World Cup.
None minutes after the restart, Salpigidis squared for Samras and the score was
suddenly level.
None of this troubled the bikers in the bar. They knew
that the Greek Pirate Ship couldn’t possibly withstand such an onslaught. They
waved their flags in the most tumultuous of circles. It wouldn’t be long.
Not long indeed. Six minutes later, Boatend found Sami
Khedira’s chest. After a well-balanced touch, the head-banded Tunisian bashed
home a volley that would have left the Incredible Hulk jealous. Seven minutes
later it was Klose’s turn. Klose wouldn’t allow himself to be pestered by the
defensive pairing of Kyriakos and Papastathoulous. He rose above them both to
ram in the third goal with a sublime header. Reus blasted home the fourth after
another six minutes. His booming effort from well outside the 18 bulged the
net. It officially became an embarrassment. Salpingidis was awarded a late
penalty after Boateng was ruled to have handled the ball one minute before
injury time. He converted the subsequent penalty to make the scoreline seem as
if it wasn’t a complete slaughter. Trust me. This one was never in doubt/
I tried to take a few pictures of the tattooed bikers
afterwards, but they literally slapped my camera away. Apparently, they thought
me some sort of renegade reporter who wished to make them a glitzy Internet
star. I apologized in slurred German, explaining that I was merely a Shadow
Scholar hoping to make a few memories. After the third guy threatened to kill
me, I packed up my briefcase and took the Tram home.
Saturday
Spain vs. France
vs. 
It’s a Pyrenees border battle! A re-match of the classic 2006 Round of 16 brawl I was just reminiscing about.
From the Day 12 Recap:
--Finally, it is with great sadness that we mark the
passing of French play-by-play announcer Thierry Roland. From 1962 onward he
called thirteen World Cups and nine European championships. Homages to his
legendary voice are springing up all over Youtube. I’ll personally never forget
the France vs. Spain match in the 2006 World Cup Round of 16. Zidane scored a
brilliant goal deep into injury time and Viera waved him over to the fans for a
touching encore. Roland described it with a soft touch that still exhibited his
trademark flair.
Play-by-play announcers are nothing short of Gods. They
instill every special moment of these tournaments with the gravitas that
ensures we’ll never forget how privileged we were to watch. This is why I watch
goal calls in as many languages as possible. We were all sad to learn that
Roland’s declining health would preclude him from traveling to Poland and the
Ukraine. Such a double whammy to learn that he has now left us forever. Hurry
up and savor these montages before some $15 per hour girl sitting in a cubicle
(whom I likely ghostwrote through undergrad) takes down the videos for
copyright infringement.
Sorry. Had to fit my unrelenting affection for broadcasters
back in somehow. Anyway, can the Froggies spoil the fiesta with yet
another monumental upset? Before dismissing them offhand, consider that Menez
and Cabaye are likely to return. Philippe Mexes will be out, but that actually
counts as a positive after he lost his game. The 4-5-1 simply didn’t work
without Menez on the flank or Cabaye distributing from the sweeper spot. Les
Bleaus found their footing against the Ukrainians in the second fixture. Blanc
altered the training schedule so as to implement adjustments of superior
quality. He groomed both Menez and Cabaye for dream matches. Though he couldn’t
compensate for their untimely loss, it was clear to the observer what the plan
was. Ribery was to “pinch in” off the left flank in order to let M’Vila move
out wide while he drew double coverage. Nasri had a similar charge, ideally
freeing up Ben Afra.
The two veterans fulfilled their part of the bargain, while
the youngsters succumbed to nerves. Damn shame the plan fell apart as it should
have been clever enough to work. Svensson and Källström took the bait. Don’t
doubt that Blanc will devise something equally devious for this fixture. It might
even prove enough to pull it off. After all, Nasri, Ribery, Menez, Cabaye, and
Benzema are quite the dangerous quintet. Benzema has been underachieving all
tournament long. Evra can fill in for Mexes, possibly to Les Bleaus advantage.
Lloris appears in every bit as a good a form as Casillas. I personally have
never witnesses a quarterfinal round that didn’t contain at least one major
upset. Why not one here? It’s not unforeseeable.
Gut check time for the Pillsbury Doughboy. Del Bosque has to
do something bold if he wishes to keep this mercurial mesh afloat. So the
triplicate midfield axis of Silva-Fabregas-Iniesta didn't work….or so they say.
I thought it appeared to be clicking and needed more time. Torres as center
forward initially produced favorable results, but we got a glimpse at how much
his form has truly dropped as he made horrible touch after vomit-inducing touch
during the Croat match. To my mind, del Bosque must either restore the
triplicate midfield axis or pick a new striker. La Roja cannot afford to wait
and see if Torres can gain early traction and thereby crucial confidence.
Ordinarily this would not even constitute an issue. The
striking third of the bench features no fewer than four other attractive
options. Pedro, Juan Mata, and Llorente haven’t left the bench. Negredo came in
for an impressive one-minute time-stalling ploy in the waning moments of the
Croat game. Dropping any one of these admittedly capable strikers into the fray
when they haven’t even logged any minutes in this competition may very well be
asking too much. They will need at least one half to integrate themselves into
the pace. Again, time La Roja do not have. This pickle, combined with an
exhausted midfield, means we may very well herald the end of the Spanish Superdynasty
as soon as Saturday.
For now, a lowly bookie must give the inventiveness of
players such as Silva, Iniesta, the Xavis, and proven super-subs Fabregas and
Jesus Navas the benefit of the doubt. Surely they will find some way to climb
ahead early and maintain their lead. Consider yourselves warned, however. It
becomes impossible to envision this squad repeating if del Bosque can’t find a
way to get the rest of the striking corps involved.
Projected Lineups:
"La Furia Roja”
Andres Iniesta
F. Torres D. Silva
|
Xavi Hernandez Xavi Alonso
|
Sergio Busquets
|
Jordi Alba S. Ramos G. Pique A. Arbeola
|
Iker
Casillas
|
“Les Bleaus”
Karim Benzema
|
Frank Ribery Jeremy Menez
|
Yohan Cabaye Samir Nasri
|
M. Debuchy P. Evra A. Rami G. Clichy
|
Hugo Lloris
|
Prop Bets (as always, feel free to offer your own):
Over/Under ---3 Goals
120 Minutes— 2 to 1
Penalty Shootout— 2 to 1
Torres brace—3 to 1
Fabregas brace---3 to 1
Iniesta brace---straight up
David Silva brace—2 to 1
Busquets from outside the 18—2 to 1
Sergio Ramos set piece goal—3 to 1
Xavi from outside the 18—straight up
Xavi Alonso from outside the 18—2 to 1
Llorente start—straight up
Pedro start—3 to 1
Negredo start--3 to 1
Torres substitution (55+)—straight up
Busquets substitution (65+)—straight up
Sergio Ramos substitution (45+)—3 to 1
Javi Martinez substitution (75+)---2 to 1
Juanfran substitution (90+)—2 to 1
Arbeola substitution (60+)—2 to 1
Raul Albiol substitution (85+)—straight up
Casillas howler—5 to 1
Sergio Ramos straight red---3 to 1
Jordi Alba booking—straight up
Benzema brace—2 to 1
Benzema hat trick—3 to 1
Ribery brace----3 to 1
Cabaye from outside the 18---straight up
Malouda start—straight up
Giroud substitution (80+)---straight up
Valbuena substitution (90+)—2 to 1
Ben Afra substitution (45+)—3 to 1
Marvin Martin substitution (60+)—straight up
Lloris howler—4 to 1
THE
LINE: Spain + 2 Goals
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
RESULT: Spain 2, France 0. Lept across the border to
witness this massacre alongside third generation Alsatians in Strasbourg. “Zey
are FRENCH. Ze af’ always been FRENCH!” The Dailies contain a fare amount of
cutting-edge commentary addressing the very Avant Garde experience of watching
the French get demoralized in front of a bunch of fatalistic Frenchmen.
Additionally, there’s some insightful analysis of the Spanish Street Parade
that ensued after the hometown team went down in flames.
Blanc implemented most of the lineup changes, and even
openly challenged his tyro tots to justify the faith he placed in them. After
an opening 20 minutes of clinical “El-ticky-tack” play, Iniesta hustled past
Cabaye to locate Jordi Alba, who in turn made mincemeat out of Debuchy to cross
for Xavi Alonso. The Real Madrid vet delivered a precision header a full meter
beyond the reach of Lloris.
Alonso would later convert a 91st minute spot
kick to seal a brace along with a decisive win. Inbetween Deuchy and Cabaye ran
their legs off in an apparent attempt to atone for their defensive errors. Both
of them made doubly sure Casillas remained on his toes with quality chances
down the stretch. Still, the Froggies never really looked like scoring. Plenty
of hope for the future, but this match essentially constituted the inverse of
what transpired during the 2006 Quarterfinals in Germany.
England vs. Italy
vs. 
Skip church ye of some misplaced faith. No one misses this most fascinating of the quarterfinal matchups. Perennially underachieving St. George has a real chance to make the semi-finals for the first time since 1996! The “coach who shall not be named” did a decent enough job steering them out of a surprisingly weak group. Now he must, ABSOLUTELY MUST, get them past the Wops in 120 minutes. The Three Lions don’t do shootouts. Should the game come down to penalties, go ahead and pencil the Azzuri in for the Semis.
The Portuguese were the pesky menace in 2000, 2004, and
2006. The Germans spat in their face in 1996 and 2010. In between their
termination also came at the hands of the Brazilians and Argentines, two global
superpowers one can hardly blame them for losing to. The “coach who shall not
be named” has a bit of work to do. As we shall see, however, he won’t have to
tinker much. The Wellbeck-Rooney pairing works well enough and will only get
stronger as the two gradually rebuild their Man U intuition. He’d be wise to
ditch Parker for Oxlade-Chamberlin. He’d be even wiser to dump Milner for
Walcott. I see no reason why the latter switch won’t commence. If I see Milner
in the starting eleven, I’ll know we’re doomed once more. Terry, Cole, and
Johnson are playing as if they were five years younger. Lescott still adjusts,
but he’s getting there. Joe Hart has manifested himself as the rarest thing
since an edible British meal: An English keeper who can actually make
impressive saves. I’m positively flummoxed.
Unfortunately for the Limeys, Prandelli will have realized
the error of his ways just in time to start Balotelli. Why always him? Because
he’s the best Italian footballer since Totti. He even complements Cassano
remarkably well. Di Natale retains just enough life in his legs to come off the
bench and decide a close match. Pirlo still has the boot if you give him some
time to set up. Prandelli abandoned the 3-5-2 in order to secure a critical win
against Eyre. In order to accommodate a speculative 4-1-3-2, he moved up Motta
and De Rossi for a midfield formation that played uglier than cellulite-ridden
hindquarters all night long. We’ve seen the last of that formation,
particularly after Chielleni had to hurry back to help Balzaretti and Barzaglia
until his gassed ass had to be yanked in the 57th.
The return to the 3-5-2 presents its own set of problems.
Cheilleni and De Rossi look to be running on empty. Bonnuci’s holiday didn’t
last long either after he was recalled to relieve Chielleni. In summation, the
dogged line of the Azzuri is now dog tired. They won’t be able to withstand
Rooney and Wellbeck for longer than a half. Gerard and Ashley Young will
encounter little difficulty scooting around the likes of Marchisio and
Giaccherini. They’ve got long-range ability as well. With Balotelli in the
starting eleven, the guineas have a chance…..until Prandelli loses his patience
far too soon. Then the rout is on.
Projected Lineups:
“The Three Lions”
Danny Wellbeck
|
Wayne
Rooney
|
A. Young A. Oxlade-Chamberlin S. Gerard T. Walcott
|
A. Cole Joleon Lescott J. Terry G. Johnson
|
Joe Hart
|
“The Azzuri”
Antonio
Cassano Mario
Balotelli
|
Emmanuelle Giacherrini Claudio Marchisio
|
Thiago Motta Andrei Pirlo Alessandro Diamanti
|
Giorgio Chielleni D. De
Rossi Leonardo Bonnucci
|
Gianluigi Buffon
|
Prop Bets (as always, feel free to offer your own):
Over/Under ---4 Goals
120 Minutes— 2 to 1
Penalty Shootout— 3 to 1
Rooney brace—straight up
Rooney hat trick---2 to 1
Wellbeck brace---2 to 1
Andy Carroll goal—2 to 1
Steven Gerard set piece goal—2 to 1
Alex Oxlade Chamberlain goal—2 to 1
Jermaine Defoe goal—3 to 1
Stewart Downing substitution (80+)—2 to 1
Milner start—straight up
Jordan Henderson substitution (65+)—3 to 1
Glen Johnson substitution (55+)--3 to 1
Ashley Cole substitution (75+) ---2 to 1
Leighton Baines substitution (90+)—2 to 1
Phil Jones substitution (70+)—2 to 1
Joe Hart howler---straight up
Balotelli brace—straight up
Cassano brace—straight up
Diamanti start---2 to 1
Pirlo set piece goal—straight up
De Rossi substitution (70+)—2 to 1
Chielleni substitution (75+)—2 to 1
Balzaretti start----2 to 1
Abate start---2 to 1
Buffon howler---4 to 1
Balotelli straight red—2 to 1
De Rossi double yellows—2 to 1
THE
LINE: England + 2 Goals
GENTLEMEN,
ENTER YOUR WAGERS
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
RESULT: Italy 0, England 0. (4-2 PSO). A full report on
adventures in the Südstadt may be found in the Day 16 Recap. The match proved
historic on so many different levels. The Three Lions produced another
heart-wrenching epic flop of epic proportions. The Wops defied the odds for a
historic fifth time. Vicey, historically, met the first Italian girl he didn’t
immediately wish to brutally murder. A night of firsts it was.
Prandelli’s unique 4-1-3-2 yielded immediate results.
Ricardo Montolivo nearly set up Daniel De Rossi for a spectacular opener inside
of five minutes. Conversely, Roy Hodgson’s 4-4-1-1 didn’t prove too shabby
either. Steven Gerrard’s fine distributive play found James Milner on the right.
Milner did well to link up with Glen Johnson in an improvisational mood. Had
the Liverpool Right Back done a slightly better job of anticipating his First
Touch, St. George might have also pulled ahead in the opening quarter of an
hour.
Johnson continued to belie his positional assignment,
charging ahead on three separate occasions over the course of the first half.
His Wanderlust might have produced an opening goal, were it not for the
well-timed tackles of Abate and Balzaretti. In the final half hour, Balotelli
gave us a taste of things to come with a pair of stuttersteps and a two
powerful efforts that fell wide of the mark.
Substitutes Allesandro Diamanti and Antonio Nocerino
provided the only sparks in an additional thirty minutes marked by tired and
sloppy play. Fortune appeared to favor the cursed Lions after the shootout’s
intial two rounds. Gerrard and Rooney easily beat Buffon while the Wops found
themselves a Balotelli strike and a Montolivo miss behind. Fortunes were
reversed however, when Ashley Young struck the crossbar and Buffon saved a weak
Ashley Cole spotter. Pirlo, Nocerino, and Diamanti aimed high to beat Joe Hart.
The rest was agonizingly ironic history.
