Festa Em Syndicate Members,
Will we have a “South American Final”? Most of the proximate
fans will go crazy for that one! How about an “All European Final”? Precedence
has something to say about that. The Germans defeated the Dutch to win the 1974
World Championship. It was quite the fixture…or so I’ve read.
Will Europe and South America clash? Argentina dismantled
the Dutch in 1978. They then proceeded to bitchslap the Germans in 1986. The
Brazilians beat Sweden for their first title in 1958. They took care of
Czechoslovakia for their second one in 1962. They dispensed with Italy in 1970
and 1994 for their third and fourth respectively. They even (see below) kicked
the everlasting shit out of Germany for their fifth in 2002.
We’re in for a good time no matter what. I’ve received word
that yet another special guest wishes to help me deliver the lines. It’s Dr.
Cornell West! Welcome Sir! Dr. West is a friend of the Syndicate. He last
checked in with us ten years ago during Euro 2004. Take it away, Dr West!
From EM 2004—Round Three
Tuesday
Italy
vs. Bulgaria
vs. 
….
…
…
If you
feel your much endeared Azzuri will finally prevail against this sham of a
nation, ushering in feelings of historic elation, decisive vindication, and
justified recompensation….well you’re not only insane. You’re black preacher
insane. Here I am sounding like Dr. Cornell West all of the sudden. Look, so
long as I’ve positioned myself behind the pulpit, allow me one final
opportunity to counsel you away from your vainglorious bet of absurd ignorance.
You know I only have your best interest at heart, my dearest filthy wops.
Ahem.
My brothers. Your team lacks the fire…the rapid oxidation, the tantalizing
scintillation, the combusting conflagration….for the amelioration of your
situation. You have the motivation and there will be no capitulation. Yet the
termination of your station is your most certain destination. Brother Gattuso
is suspended, shut out, precluded, prevented, refused, rejected and restrained.
What will you do, my brothers without your midfield captain, your rock, your
anchor, your general, your chairman, your consulate, your czar, your chief? Who
will replace Cannavaro, your aegis, your armor, your moat, your fortress? Vieri
is hurt, his wounds bleed for you my brothers, but his legs cannot bring you
closer to God if they don’t work. My brothers the time has come to accept what
God has in store for you. We shall meet again in the paradise of World Cup
2006. Jesus shall show you the way.
Thank you, Dr. West. Always remember, my brothers:
“One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish.
Ooops, I’m outta time. My bacon’s smelling fine!!”
Onwards to the placements. More extensive coverage of the
eliminated teams can be found in the Dailies.
8th Place- Belgium
Well…at least the N-VA will form a stable coalition
government. Bart de Wever will form a governing coalition that will remain in
place all the way through 2016, when you’ll seriously contend for the European
Title. ; )
7th Place- France
Speaking of teams that will contend in 2016….hope endures,
Froggies. You really look to come back strong. Pogba, Griezmann, Varane, and
Sakho are well on the upward trajectory.
6th Place- Costa Rica
PURA VIDA!
PURA VIDA!
PURA VIDA!
When will your friendly bookie stop using that phrase? When
there’s a cold day into the hell that he’s headed for : )
5th Place- Columbia
So close. Dry your tears, “Hammer”. You’ll be back. You’ll
also be driving a Lamborghini soon. ; )
Tuesday—
Deutschland
vs. Brazil
vs. 
So….we have nothing to worry about, right? Thiago Silva is
suspended and Neymar is out injured. Easy-peezy-lemon-squeezy? Not exactly.
Dante should be considered a more than adequate replacement for Silva. Ramies
and Gustavo can still wreak havoc on the flanks. Moving the passionate Hulk up
to Center Forward may turn out to be an ingenious idea born out of rough
circumstance. Willian can take over his spot…and work a few useful upfield
balls while he’s at it.
Scolari is no slouch. He’ll piece together a competitive
eleven that will effectively neutralize a Kraut side still rife with problems.
It’s unclear whether or not Jogi will have the courage to keep Lahm at the
Right Fullback position. Khedira and Özil are still playing well below their
potential. The decision to start Klose as lead striker didn’t work at all. Who
will step up if Germany desperately needs a goal with ten minutes remaining? No
one. Only Mertesacker can serve as an emergency striker, and he appears to have
lost his starting job for now.
I’ll reiterate that the Krauts are fully satisfied. We made
the semi-finals and thereby secured our guaranteed seven match days. That’s all
that matters. The Brazilians also stand to benefit from biased officiating.
Both the team and the whistle-blower will feed off of the energy from the
crowd. Argentina vs. Brazil is the final the audience demands. That will
influence calls, albeit in a manner both subliminal and subtle.
Syndicate Members are still welcome to exploit my Kraut
pride. Your friendly bookie nevertheless has little choice other than to make
this line a pick. We’re happy no matter what. I’ll throw you a diminutive bone,
but that's all you get as I enjoy the match irrespective of the outcome.
Projected
Lineups:
“Die
Mannschaft”—(4-3-3 )|
Thomas Müller
|
|
Andreas Schürrle
Meshut Özil
|
|
B.
Schweinsteiger Sami Khedira
|
|
Toni Kroos
|
|
B. Höwedes M. Hummels J. Boateng P. Lahm
|
|
Manuel Neuer
|
“A
Selecao” (4-2-3-1 )|
Hulk
|
|
L. Gustavo Oscar Ramires
|
|
Paulinho
Willian
|
|
Marcelo
Maicon
|
|
David Luiz Dante
|
|
Julio Cesar
|
Prop
Bets (as always, feel free to offer your own)
Over/Under— 2 Goals
120 Minutes—Straight Up
Penalty Shootout—Straight Up
Hulk brace—2 to 1
Ramires Goal —Straight up
Dante Goal—Straight up
Maicon Goal—2 to 1
Hernanes start—3 to 1
Jo substitution (70+)—2 to 1
Fernandinho start—2 to 1
Cesar howler—2 to 1
Dante from outside the 18—2 to 1
Gustvo straight red—3 to 1
Alves start—Straight Up
Bernard start—Straight Up
Schürrle start—Straight up
Klose start—2 to 1
Durm start—2 to 1
Mertesacker start—2 to 1
Draxler start—4 to 1
Podolski start—2 to 1
Klose substitution (85+)—2 to 1
Müller goal—2 to 1
Khedira goal—2 to 1
Kroos set piece goal—2 to 1
Kramer substitution (80+)—2 to 1
Götze substitution (70+)—Straight Up
Schweinsteiger substitution (90+)—Straight Up
Lahm Goal—2 to 1
THE
LINE: “Pick Em”
Have we been here before?
Oh God yes. We have ourselves a rematch of the 2002 Final!
As was the case with many finals, it wasn’t exactly what one might call a
“firecracker”. You’ll nevertheless have a bit of fun if you journey back with
me to 2002…back to “The Dawn of the Syndicate”….back to the moment of inception.
Back we go. All the way back to the moment Leonardo Di Caprio planted the idea
into my mind…..
From WM 2002: Goodbyes and Championship Pick
To my dearest friends old and new,
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Sob. How sweet. Time for a swift walk around the block.
I can scarcely believe that within a few hours we shall
have no excuse to talk to one another. What a tragedy! L
A short month ago I found myself friendless and clinically depressed.
Loneliness cuts deeper than any other adverse emotion, particularly when it
descends upon an eccentric character such as myself. Contact buoys one’s
perspective in so many subtle metaphysical ways. Hearing from every last one of
you has kept me afloat…even those e-mails that respectfully indicated that the
sender had no fucking clue what I was talking about. The World’s Game has
brought us all together, and reminded a soul wandering astray of the undeniable
importance of scope. Such a wide-open realm of possibilities we live in…wide as
the perfectly manicured football pitches I’ve spent the better part of this
summer staring at. The money is appreciated, but all of you have given me
something that is impossible to quantify…you’ve once again revived my
understanding of how incredibly large and complex this earth on which we all
live is. Such a beautiful intricacy! Such a magnificent snafu! It’s filled with
amazing people, all of whom I have privilege to know.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Waaaaaahhh! Can’t take it. Need another walk around the
block. Why are we all so distracted? Why is our instinctual reaction to all the
inner-torment to spread more misery around? What fucking good does it do to
drag others down to the level of your insecurity via some petty protectionisms?
Why all the gossip, games, lies, exaggerations, and chest pounding? What
precludes us from reaching out to one another in the spirit of good will and
harmony? Sigh Since none of the questions posed fit the answer of “forty-two”,
I confess to be thoroughly un-enlightened with respect to the deeper quandaries
of the human race. Incidentally, should anyone be interested (which they’re
likely not), these old “Goodbye” sections are excruciatingly painful to
re-read.
The cheers echo all across this continent, through the
heart of Europe, to the Southernmost tips of Africa and South America, all the
way through Eurasia to the cradled islands of the Pacific Ocean. Great show,
Lads. Bravo, boys. Gratitude to all footballers and football fans.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Anyone
ever have the feeling that the theme from “Nobody’s Fool” runs on a constant
uninterrupted loop in their head?
The issue of who takes the ultimate prize almost seems
immaterial. Nevertheless we shall press on with the Picks. The final match will
be nothing more than a Pick. All bets are off for a game I wish solely to enjoy
for its own sake.
….
….
….
Supreme Champion of the Football Universe—Germany vs.
Brazil
vs.
Allow me to reiterate: ALL BETS ARE OFF. A bet against
the Fatherland corresponds to self-mutilation, and not of the chic emo-teenager
kind! We haven’t a chance without Ballack L L
With any luck the earth will be destroyed to make way for a Vogon Hyperspace
bypass and we’ll all cease to be anything but a whiff of hydrogen, absent the
memory of how big a letdown this match was. My heart wilts at the thought of
millions of Krauts getting hysterically drunk, their hopes and enthusiasm
rising in tandem with their Blood-Alcohol content, only to realize that their
team cannot match the spontaneous flair of the Samba Kings and instead settling
on some really unsatisfying sex with a overzealous vamp they had previously
been capable of avoiding. Ugh. Not good times!
None of this precludes us from viewing the Grand Finale
with dreams, aspiration, and the very special sensation that emanates from a
belly full of “liquid courage”. For this reason I obstinately refuse to put my
money where my mouth is. I’d much rather wrap my mouth around a nice, cold tall
one and refrain from thinking about anything so serious as spreads, exchange
rates, and malicious attempts to play mind games with my mates. Let’s all give
the world’s game the fond farewell it deserves. Grab some friends and some
brewskis. Kick the rock around a bit afterward. Mannschaft über Alles!
THE
LINE: Deutschland +1 Goal
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
RESULT:
Brazil 2, Germany 0. No travesty occurred here. I had a blast watching the game
and reveled in the exoneration of a life turned around. If one might allow but
a concise final foray into the realm of the spiritual, I again emphasize that
this project’s concept was borne out of boundless desolation and despair. The
exact same applies to the sequel that I’ll now proceed to mark up. Sure, I
exacted some financial gain from the whole spiel, but to say that such writing
was driven by the pure pursuit of dollar signs would be like saying that women
fantasize about bathing in money when engaging in intercourse with an old fat
dude. Okay….perhaps a better analogy might have suited my sincere point in that
instance. Regardless, I’ve surely earned less in ten years than Paul Krugman
rakes in for yet another hackneyed column entitled “I understand Economics, no
one else does, and things still suck.” on any given Tuesday. I’ve never even entered the vicinity of
the outer solar system of making a living from words on printed page. The
Simmons, Klostermanns, Pierces, Blunts, Eggers, and Mandees of the universe are
conflagrating Red Giants to my infinitesimally small speck of dirty comet dust.
A modest improvement in cash flow was not the primary motivating factor in
sitting down to write: That would be the arduousness of crawling out of one’s
bed. Not one among us hasn’t been there. The weight of an internal succubus
bears down upon us, pressing down even the slightest impulse of will, a torrent
of negative thoughts interrupting the signals to move we relay to our muscles.
Nothing seems possible, for what could possibly yield something? If only we
might realize that the mere act of initiating the endeavor constitutes victory.
Within minutes the fear subsides, the task crowds out the visceral demons, and
focus reigns.
Naturally,
relief comes sooner when one engages in one’s own endeavor. Work that someone
else arbitrarily deemed significant obviously presents a wholly different
challenge. Thankfully that can always be pushed aside indefinitely while you
compose a polished letter to an old friend, strike up a text you’ve been
meaning to read, go for a run with a song you’ve gone too long without hearing,
translate an article merely for your own edification, or….work on your own
warped version of a document that comes straight from the heart. JJ
In a
freakishly prescient sense, the sign-off “Kick the rock around a bit afterward”
presaged the now trademarked “Go kick a ball with a stranger.” The latter
phrase owes its origin to the 2003 Documentary “The Other Final”, climactically
finished on the very day of the Germany vs. Brazil clash. Two Dutch filmmakers
found themselves so frustrated with the qualification collapse of their beloved
Netherlands that they elected to invite the two lowest ranked football nations
for an exhibition match. On this day in 2002, the Caribbean Isle of Montserrat
and the obscure Himalayan Kingdom of Bhutan met in the thin air of Asia Minor.
The result, much like the one above, was ultimately inconsequential. Go kick a
ball with a stranger.
Wednesday—
Argentina
vs. The Netherlands
vs. 
Van Gaal can concoct whatever uniquely permutative starting
eleven he wishes, I still don’t see the Brilliant Orange getting through here.
Rojo returns. Zabaletta and Garay are on a hot streak. Demichelis looks good
back in his old center-back role. The superb back four can shut down Robben and
van Persie. They’ll be cancelled quicker than a John Stamos sitcom.
Van Gaal must still confront serious problems in midfield.
With de Jong unlikely to recover in time, he’s got to find a better option than
Wijnaldum….and he doesn’t have one. Classie and Fer are too green. De Guzman
makes the most sense, but Depay looks to be finished. A sort of goofy formation
that looked more like a 3-4-3 now that I’ve had a chance to think about it
might have successfully kept Los Ticos at bay, but it won’t work here.
Messi and (hopefully) Agüero are too strong. They’ll
overpower Blind and Vlaar given the amount of minutes that pair has logged.
Bear in mind that they only have to break through once. After that, they can
sit back and defend for the duration. That’s how your friendly bookie sees it
transpiring. Welcome to the finals, Albicleste.
Projected
Lineups:
“La Albiceleste”—(4-3-3) |
Gonzalo Higuain Sergio Agüero
|
|
Lionel Messi
|
|
Maxi
Rodriguez
Fernando Gago
|
|
Javier Mascherano
|
|
M. Rojo E. Garay M. Demichelis P. Zabaletta
|
|
Sergio Romero
|
“Clockwork
Oranje” (4-3-1-2) |
Robin van Persie Arjen Robben
|
|
Wesley Sneijder
|
|
Memphis Depay
Jonathan de Guzman
|
|
Dirk Kuyt
|
|
D. Blind S. de Vrij R. Vlaar P. Verhaegh
|
|
Jasper Cillessen
|
Prop
Bets (as always, feel free to offer your own)
Over/Under— 2 Goals
120 Minutes—Straight Up
Penalty Shootout—Straight Up
Messi brace—Straight Up
Messi Hat Trick —3 to 1
Agüero Start—Straight up
Di Maria Start—2 to 1
Alverez Start—Straight Up
Campagnaro Start—2 to 1
Fernandinho start—2 to 1
Mascherano substitution (70+)—2 to 1
Messi from outside the 18—Straight Up
Gago Straight Red—3 to 1
Romero howler—3 to 1
Wijnaldum start—3 to 1
Krul Start—3 to 1
Kongolo start—2 to 1
De Guzman start—2 to 1
Van Persie set piece goal—4 to 1
Van Persie brace—2 to 1
Robben brace—2 to 1
Kuyt goal—4 to 1
Vlaar goal—Straight Up
Lens goal—3 to 1
Martins-Indi substitution (65+)—Straight Up
Depay substitution (80+)—Straight Up
Jan-Huntelaar substitution (90+)—Straight Up
Blind substitution (90+)—Straight Up
Sneijder Goal—Straight Up
De Vrij goal—3 to 1
THE
LINE: Argentina +1 Goal
Have we been here before?
We have….and Christ was it a bad match. ; ( ; ( One expects
low-scoring conservative affairs when one gets to the Quarters and Semis, but
these two fought to a nil-nil draw in the Group stages back in 2006. Goals may
be at a premium come Wednesday, but it can’t possibly be worse than last time.
From WM 2006—Round Four:
Wednesday
Netherlands
vs. Argentina
vs,
For
the third consecutive time slot we arrive at match between two Round of 16
Qualifiers jostling for first place in the group. With one more round to go
before the slate is wiped clean of yellows, Van Basten has indicated that he’ll
rest Robben Heitinga, and Van Bronckhorst. Van Nistelroy and Van Persie are
playing well enough up front to merit only two strikers anyway. The
back-to-back “man of the match” is in line for break. Will we see Mark van
Bommel, Wesley Sneijder, and Dirk Kuyt? Anyone’s guess but I rather doubt it.
Van Basten appears fairly committed to integrating Laadzat and Van der Vaart
into the team at any cost. He’s all set to use this match as a confidence
booster for them.
Projecting
lineups for both of these teams is next to impossible. Both have a surplus of
talent and it’s unclear whether they truly wish to play for the win. Pekerman
will presumably also wish to sit his yellows, making me tentatively scratch
Heinze, Crespo, and Saviola. Gonzalez and Sorin are hurt. Fuck. Excuse while I
go fiddle around with the chalkboard some more.
Okay.
Professor Pete returns, prepared to upgrade his lecture from “clueless” to
“subpar”. Pekerman will be unable to resist calls to start “the Kid” next to
Tevez. Hence, all my speculation about the Dutch is hereby declared an
intensively irrelevant waste of time. The formula presently reads as follows.
“The Kid” crushes a dopey lot of Flemish-Germanic clowns. Q.E.D.
THE
LINE: Argentina +2 Goals
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
RESULT:
Argentina 0, Netherlands 0. Yes, when I was a child my parents bought me a
chalkboard. Twenty years later they’ve not ceased to drop both subtle and overt
hints about what they feel I should be doing with my life. Until this moment I
hadn’t fully connected the dots with respect to this gift. Who gives a
six-year-old a chalkboard? “Look son, never to early to start preparing your
lectures!” Man. How miserable it is to grow up the only son of two scholars.
They concoct endless theories about you that would make for fine hypothetical
broad strokes yet ignore the reality that you’re a living, thinking entity. Go
to them with your problems and the best they can do is list a dozen more
problems you might not have thought of while carefully eluding any concrete
solution. Bring home your 2nd Grade Science Essay and they’ll
immediately begin to pontificate on its worthlessness. Should you break the
lamp, you get an ACTUAL lecture…on the chalkboard they gave you last Christmas.
The
pain never relents. Before one knows it, one is all grown up, facing the
selection of one’s own corner niche of bullshit to spend the next forty years
toiling in mediocrity. Fighting the urge does absolutely no good. What else are
you going to do there, killer? It’s not as if you can build an Artesian Well or
design fighter jets for Lockheed. Even the army doesn’t want you. Soon raging
against the urge becomes a full-time gig. You’re helping hundreds cheat their
way through school while spewing acrid anti-academic tirades all over the place
like a chronic mental masturbator. Where does it all end? Scale the Ivory Tower
or not, it all ends in the same place. Eventually you return to dust, the very
same dust that collects on your life’s work after people rapidly stop giving a
shit. The very same dust that accumulates on everything that ever mattered to
you after your relatives clean out your office, take out the trash, and decide
where they’ll have the celebratory meal.
Such a
morose monologue fits this game nicely. Professor Pete and his chalkboard did a
piss-poor job of predicting the outcome. The Lineup forecasts were close to
fully accurate. Messi did start along with Tevez, Van der Vaart and Landazaat.
However, the possibility that these teams would simply cancel each other out
was not allowed for. There weren’t even any memorable misses…or so I’m told.
After twenty minutes of stagnation I said, “fuck it” and watched the Africans.
GENTLEMEN,
ENTER YOUR WAGERS
