Make no mistake, I'm a homer.
As a Liverpool fan, I see the world through red-tinted shades. I regularly sip the cherry Kool-Aid. Without many exceptions, my rear end can be found parked squarely behind LFC whenever an issue that requires side-taking is raised.
That isn't to say, however, that I possess an utterly blind faith, lack reason or operate within a reality-distortion sphere. I enjoy thinking for myself and am rather capable of it, thank you very much.
His out-of-the-blue (but ultimately, dead-on) attack on Sir Alex Ferguson this past winter is well documented. There have also been more than a few dust-ups with Gillett and Hicks. If you've ever listened to a Rafa Benitez press conference, its obvious he's not afraid to make his feelings known, although often in a passive-aggressive manner.
Like an uncle you know is going to get drunk and take his pants off at any given family event, I've come to expect this petulant behavior from Rafa. While I won't make excuses for it, I'm not embarrassed -- it's just part and parcel, a small price to pay for the greater good.
One of my favorite Rafa Benetiz press conference 'moves' comes when a reporter asks a question Rafa doesn't want to answer; He'll just answer with a non-sequitar."Rafa, what do have you say about Manager X's comments about your possible pursuit of Player Y?"
"Yes, I am very happy with the way the team is training. We look forward to the opportunity to get three points tomorrow."
So, it's not shocking that Rafa has struck out once again, this time focusing on a former transfer target, Gareth Barry. (seriously, we all thought that story was done and buried.... please?)
Like a lover still scorned, Rafa hit out at the England international for choosing Man City over Liverpool this summer:At this level everyone earns big money. The question is do you make the right decisions and do what is best for your career? If it's just for money sometimes you will make mistakes and I've been surprised by some decisions this summer – like Barry. I won't say too much but it was clearly 100% for money. The most important thing for me, though, is the passion of the players.
MEEEEE-OW.
Then, in practically the same breath, Rafa does his best Clint Eastwood Squint of Warning towards the summer's most coveted central midfield pair, Xabi Alonso and Javier Mascherano:Don't forget we signed Alonso from Real Sociedad when nobody knew about him and we renewed his contract two years ago, so he was happy then, and you know what happened with Mascherano at West Ham before we brought him here. Both players owe a lot to Liverpool. They owe Liverpool some loyalty and they both know that.
Sounds a lot like "I took you into this world, I sure as hell can take you out!" Thanks, Mom.
There are those who will say Rafa's propensity for foaming at the mouth hurts his team, but I'm not buying. While the recent spat with SAF coincided nicely with Liverpool's surrender at the summit, the mental make-up of a top-notch professional squad has to be stronger than that. Especially when they should be used to hearing this song & dance by now.
Quite honestly, I'd like to see Rafa press conferences expanded to include topics completely unrelated to the footballing world."Rafa, do you think about the global attention devoted to the death of Michael Jackson?"
"For me, the most important thing is having a well-rounded breakfast. You cannot find success throughout the day if you do not start that day off correctly, no?"
"Rafa, your thoughts on the recent elections and unrest in Iran?
"In my home, we have the satelitte television. I am very happy with the package we have subscribed to. It gives us options, which is good. Maybe too many options?"
Friday, July 10, 2009
Rafa Rants (again)
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Southampton Goes Neutral
In what one would hope will eventually mark a turn of the tide for Saints fans, it would appear the takeover of Southampton Football club is nearly done.
Freshly relegated to League One and starting its new life amongst the muck & mire with a ten point administrative-induced deduction, news of the club moving to financially-secure hands has to be reassuring... If not just for its employees, who would very much like to be paid on a regular basis.
Going against the recent trend, the new owners-to-be (jinxed!) aren't cash-flushed Arabs, but rather some "member of the family behind the Swiss-based Liebherr Holdings group". The BBC is adament to point out, however, that that family member is not Isolde or Willi Leibherr. And thank goodness for THAT! I think we can all imagine what life with Isolde and/or Willi would be like. What, with Isolde's perpetual drinking (hide the schnapps!) and Willi's obsession with the Jonas Brothers.*
Liebherr Holdings, which besides being quite fun to say in a poor German accent, is "a multi-national company, which has been at the forefront of the construction industry worldwide for more than 50 years." Luckily enough, the Saints have a rather nice home ground in St. Mary's (opened in 2001), so their construction services won't be needed -- just the cash, thanks. Interestingly enough, parts of the stadium are slated to be closed off this season as part of cost-cutting measures.
Unfortunately for Saints fans, this means club legend Matt Le Tissier, who was fronting another takeover consortium, won't be returning to their rescue.
*I have no idea who these people are and those representations of their character are completely false.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Don't Let The Door Hit You On The...
Referees generally get a raw deal. When they execute their job flawlessly, rarely are they singled out for credit. But, should their performance be less than stellar, the burning spotlight is focused right on them, illuminating every little flaw on what may have just been a bad day at the office.
That said, they're not born into the profession. Maybe it's for the Love of the Game or maybe it's because they enjoy being screamed at by grown adults, but the Men in Black (or yellow... or red... or green...) choose this life. It's a job. They're free to leave the madness behind anytime they want, to free themselves of the indignity of having their manhood, the feces count of their brain matter or their full allotment of chromosomes from being brought into question.
They're people, right? People with day jobs, bills, families and feelings. Who wouldn't look to greener pastures?
Well, we're not going to have Premier League referee Steve Bennett to kick around anymore. (well, maybe not...)
As it turns out, Mr. Bennett has scored himself a new gig. But, he's not leaving the reffing 'industry'. He's simply switching sports.
The man who once accused Premier League players of deliberately getting booked so they could enjoy some time off, will now help develop refs for cricket.
In all actuality, as an 'independent director', this doesn't necessarily mean Mr. Bennett won't be doing both jobs. I can't speak to whether or not he'll still be reffing PL matches (or spouting off at the mouth), but methinks this sets an interesting precedent. Once they wear their welcome out at one sport, refs can move onto ruining another sport. I believe Egypt may have some suggestions for Howard Webb.
Maybe somebody should alert Bill Simmons.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
The Menace of Los Merengues
Unfortunately, this image is all too literalThere is a dark cancer looming on football's landscape.
It grows quickly... unchecked... roaring with ferocity, reaching towards the heavens as it threatens to consume what it pleases and destroy all else that dares to lie in its path.
We've seen its ilk before, seen it stutter and ultimately perish under the crushing weight of unrealized expectations.
But, it's returned... Announcing its intentions with a vengeance; Hell-bent on righting past wrongs whilst disregarding future consequences.
And this go-round, I'm actually wary of this specter of destruction.
I'm talking, of course, about the return of Real Madrid's 'Galacticos' policy.
It's the Menace of Los Merengues.
Mind you, it's not the Voltron in White I'm actually batting an eye towards, regardless of how impressive its freshly crafted resume reads. No doubt, newly re-crowned Emperor Florentino Perez (Don't worry if he writes rhymes, he writes checks) is hell-bent on European domination and is currently making it rain in hopes of hauling in Barcelona and catapulting Madrid back to the summit of global football.
With the most recent jigsaw puzzle purchase, Karim Benzema, Madrid's summer spending now totals £182m. 182 mucho grande on four players: the previously mentioned £30m French striker, £80m on His Doucheness, £59m for the God-fearing Kaka and a measly £13m for centerback Raúl Albiol, formerly of Valencia. You'd do well to wager good money on continued spending from Senor Brewster as Los Blancos' defense is still picking splinters out of their asses courtesy of a woodshed whooping from their Catalan rivals.
While I've derived a sick pleasure in watching Dr. Perezenstein build his monster, I find my feeling on the matter quite conflicted.
Let me point out that there is no love lost between myself and Madrid. Quite frankly, I harbor nothing but disdain for the club. I loathe the way they tap players up, recklessly speculating on theoretical transfers in hopes of swaying favor during their presidential elections. The last few years of failure on the Iberian Peninsula have brought a smile to my face. Especially last season, when my beloved Liverpool (to borrow a term) stomped a mudhole in their ass and walked it dry during the Champions League knock-out phase.
I've certainly not enjoyed having Perez make eyes with Xabi Alonso, threatening to come in and sweep Liverpool's best passer off his feet for a cool £30m. It's as if Real believe they are entitled to whomever they deem necessary for their cause, whenever, and refuse to take 'no' for an answer. (Real Madrid = date rapists) The fact that Real paid Manchester United their king's ransom in one lump sum is jaw-droppingly impressive. It's even raised questions among the UF Collective on how such a large debt is settled... Spectator ponders, do they wire the money? Or is it a giant check like the ones you get from Publisher's Clearinghouse?
This demonstration of sheer capitalistic force is a bit frightening, proving that everybody does indeed have their price. Yet, where does adopting this tack take us? Although they've every right to splash whatever silly cash they have at their disposal (despite not having to answer for their financial follies because of their royal backing & subsequent 'bail-out'), surely this flies in the face of what's Good For Football?I'm torn.
Surely, for a Liverpool fan, watching C Ronaldo fuck off to Spain and weaken United in the process is a beautiful thing. Yet, Perez has armed Sir Alex Ferguson with 80 million more arrows for his quiver, truly more than any club without a crooked Russian owner could hope to have.
And after three years of SAF cooing over Karim Benzema and now flush with the kitty to woo him properly, the crusty old Scot has him snatched right from under his gin-blossomed nose. Too amusing, no? Yet, how quickly could this loss spur the wily manager to come knocking on the door of one of Liverpool's targets?
The influx of new top-tier talent surely means the End of Days for a number of current Madrid players, their Dutch contingent especially being asked to 'wrap it up'. While I'd enjoy seeing Sneijder, Huntelaar and van der Vaart ply their wares in England (I'd welcome any of those three at Anfield, although that's a non-starter), I'd be just as happy to see them move elsewhere so I can root for their success at the club level as I do on the international stage. (btw, fuck Arjen Robben) Yet, once again, what are the chances this wooden shoe exodus could strengthen a red rival?
So, I've come to this conclusion: Fuck Madrid. Fuck them right in their player-tapping-up, cash-burning, fantasy-team building ear. I hope their dry spell continues and their newest trophy cabinet stays as barren as Emily Dickinson. I hope Barca (FORÇA BARCELONA!) continues their Spanish dominance. I hope Madrid finds just as much success as Chelsea has enjoyed in their recent quest to conquer Europe.
Here's to hoping the Second Coming goes as poorly as the first. Read more on "The Menace of Los Merengues"...
Saturday, April 25, 2009
SERENITY NOW!!!
*I have no idea if I used that in the correct sense
I am not an angry man.
This isn't a mantra; it's truth. Over the years, I've taken strides in hopes of letting that which doesn't truly doesn't matter, slide. For the most part, it's helped. No longer does my throat ache from yelling at idiots making boneheaded choices in traffic. When a complete stranger does something douchey in my presence, I just go about my business. Say the gentleman parked next to me at the grocery store loads his wares into his trunk, takes a look around and decides he can't be bothered to push that grocery cart 20 yards to return it, instead opting to save three calories by leaving it there resting safely in his parking space. Why should I get sucked into his black hole by publicly calling him out on it? ("Wow, that's impressively fucking lazy" has been a favorite.)
No, it's just not worth it anymore; Not to my general demeanor, not to my blood pressure, not to my chakra(s)*. If it really doesn't hurt me, it has to be healthier to just let it go.
Except when I've absolutely had enough. And, let me tell you, I've absolutely had enough.
What is it that's driven me over the edge? Premiership teams.
Or, to be more exact, Premiership teams and their utter insistence on letting Manchester United back into match after match, pissing away whatever lead they have, capitulating to SAF and band of merry douchebags and gifting that Manc scum point after point after point.
Time after time after time, United find ways back into matches in ways other teams don't even dream of continuing to give effort in. Granted, it's the hallmark of champions. I'll give them that. Even my own beloved Liverpool have adopted this mentality on multiple occasions this season, snatched undeserved points at the death. Yet, eventually, you'd think somebody would sack up, if even by accident, and deny United points. Aren't the lot of you tired of seeing this happen time and time again?
Why do you fuckers refuse to just beat this team? (or even hold on for a fucking draw?!)
The latest string of near-misses has made a mockery of this on-going situation. First it was Aston Villa, up 2-1 at Old Trafford, with just over ten minutes left in the match before they flipped the switch from attacking to sitting back to soak up the inevitable United kitchen sink. Of course, His Douchieness scores. Then, in injury time (after SAF gave the 4th official THAT look), a fucking 17-year old finds a winner. What COULD have been three dropped points, what SHOULD have been one dropped point, turns into three gained points for the defending champions.
Onto the next crime scene: The Stadium of Light. Sunderland have fought tooth and nail to come from behind to knot the match at ones. Cisse almost puts them ahead, but finds side-netting. But, the Mackems stick to the script and let that greasy 17-year old claim the lion's share 15 minutes from time.
After United dispatch Pompey in the next fixture, they welcomed Spurs to OT. Coming up on the hour, Spurs have the champs down 2-nil. Shocking right? No, what was shocking was the way the Yids imploded. After a bullshit penalty to pull back a goal, United slot four more past the Tottenham "defence" (including three in three minutes) to wipe our minds clean of any earlier daydreams of a Spurs victory.
It's all just too much. I need some help. The madness has to end. Surely somebody, somewhere, can put an end to it?!
Serenity now.
Serenity NOW!
SERENITY NOW!
HOOCHIE MOMMA!!!
Friday, February 27, 2009
Rick-Rolled!
It appears we have a winner in the Rick-Rafa tug-o-war that's been simmering on behind the Shankly Gates at Anfield.
After less then a year after having dismissed Tom Hicks' calls for his head, Liverpool's Chief Executive will be stepping down at the end of the season.
Parry will have been at the helm for 12 years, but his absolute safety disappeared when David Moores sold the club to G & H. Over the years, there have been grumblings that Liverpool haven't kept up (financially/marketing-wise, in this case) with the financial juggernaut that is Manchester United, which many saw as a direct result of Parry's short-sightedness. His position has recently come under further fire as Rafa has wrestled for full-control of transfers; Benitez has used Parry's involvement in the securement of players to drag his feet on signing a new contract. But, now with Rick on his way out, Poor Sven's Almanac suggests the winds have changed direction towards Benitez re-upping with Liverpool. (unless you're of the belief that Rafa leaves for Madrid this summer, with The Special One replacing his old rival at Anfield... but that probably just means you should stop reading The S*n)
The Guardian reports that Ian Ayre, LFC's Commerical Director, is next to step into what will likely be a watered-down position.
But, don't cry for Rick Parry. Even in this tough global economic environment, Parry should find himself a cushy job with the FA (or maybe the Premier League) in the none-too-distant future. Read more on "Rick-Rolled!"...
Monday, February 23, 2009
How About One of Kevin Keegan Qutting?
For those of you familiar with the analog world before iPhones and the interwebs, you likely remember how footy was played indoors before FIFA '93 or Championship Manager -- a charming little game called Subbuteo.
As with any old-school niche item, it still has a cult following. As it turns out, one Welshman is now using the iconic Subbuteo figurines in a new, cool way.
Tom Taylor is recreating the goal-scoring celebrations of today's players by molding tiny replica Subbuteo players in their likeness. Though, this isn't the first time Mr. Taylor has done this sort of thing. Years ago, he fashioned a miniture crocked Wayne Rooney, complete with crutches.
He also made a streaker.
Honestly, while I always historically lost interest in the actual gameplay rather quickly (flicking those little guys over and over is maddening), I always found the players, sold in sets of almost any possible team (or you could paint them yourself... which appeals to the kind of dork, i.e. me, that tried to do that with foosball players), to be the most appealing part of the whole set-up.
The question now becomes, what Subbuteo replicas should be next?
We here at UF have a few ideas... and welcome yours, as well.
-- C Ronaldo primping in a mirror
-- Dirk Kuyt with head in hands after missing another sitter
-- Craig Bellamy swinging a golf club
-- Joey Barton with cigar
-- Robbie Fowler snorting the goal line
-- El Hadj Diouf spitting on a fan
-- Eric Cantona kung-fu kicking a fan
-- John Terry 'respecting' a ref
-- Michael Owen on the ground, injured
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
An Open Letter to Peter King
Dear Mr. King,
We here at UF saw your recent comment on the David Beckham-to-Milan soap opera and wanted to follow up with you.
David Beckham should be ashamed. Nice message he sends to his children and to the soccer community full of children by signing a five-year contract with Major League Soccer in 2007, opening a soccer academy in California, then trying to walk out on the deal last week because he likes his new team in Milan. Play hardball, Don Garber. Get a ransom for the bum.Oh, the children, the children! Won't somebody think of the children?!
While we're glad you have a rightly-deserved opinion on the sport we love so much, may we suggest you pull your head out of your oversized anal cavity and focus on your football, as your opinion is silly and your NFL observations need some work as well. Maybe you should stick to Starbucks anecdotes.
Granted, in all fairness, we'd likely have a hard time doing our job well with Brett Favre's cock lodged in our ass.
As you should well know, contracts in this sport are largely meaningless. They seemingly exist solely so the club that holds a player's rights has some leverage once that player wants to leave. What's the point in having an unhappy player as one pissy soul can wreck havoc upon a club's season?
Lest we forget that the NFL has no peer league or true competition... Becks currently plays in the what would be the equivalent to the XFL. While we're not in the business of defending Goldenballs 'round these parts (though one of us may protest a bit too loudly, perhaps hiding a secret crush on him), who can blame him for not wanting to spend his last useful years ('useful' open to interpretation in this instance) in footballing backwaters?
Anyone with any talent (and options) would probably think of MLS as their Plan D or F. If Beckham wants to make the England squad and play in next year's World Cup (to be held somewhere other than South Africa), he has to be on a team that can actually be taken seriously. That means, one that plays at a decent standard and doesn't resemble rugby more than soccer.
He only joined the Galaxy after it appeared his international career was done. Shall we chide him for having ambition, as well as having been a role model and perfect example to children all over the world for years (especially aspiring Zoolanders)? Love him or hate him, his work ethic is superb and he conducts himself with class.
Quite frankly, he puts a lot of American athletes to shame.
And, FYI... He opened an academy stateside long before he joined the embarrasing LA Galaxy.
Good day, sir.
Yours truly,
Unprofessional Foul
P.S. You are right about getting a ransom for him. If Garber actually has a pair, they'll settle for no less than 10 million pounds; 15M if they're brassy. (Milan will make that back in shirt sales and other promotions in no time) Read more on "An Open Letter to Peter King"...
Monday, December 29, 2008
Great Moments in Leadership
Breathe easy all you Barcode fans!
You may have just been taken to the woodshed by the mighty Reds (be sure to thank Shay Given for keeping the score in single digits), but every cloud has a silver lining; Mike Ashley has decided to save the club. Again.
That is, at least until the global economic climate warms back up, allowing him to follow the rats off his sinking ship.
After failing to unload the lemon of a club he'd hoped to rescue from its perpetual waking nightmare, the fat fanboy has reversed course from September's "You want me out" statement, untucked his tail from behind his pasty legs and is now ready to steady Newcastle United (and by 'steady', I mean 'ensure many more seasons of a barren silverware cabinet').
In comparison to his Fall treatise, Ashley's latest message to the fans is merely a Post-It note. But, that doesn't make it any less important reading. Although economical with his words (and likely, NUFC's January transfer budget), the billionaire says it all, both with what he's written and what he hasn't written.
Allow me to help you read between the lines. Firstly, let's take a look at Ashley's unedited statement: I am happy to end the uncertainty fans may have had about the future direction of Newcastle United.
And now, what he actually means:
I know just how important that is to you.
I have withdrawn Newcastle United from the market, and for me 2009 will be the year in which we drive the Club forward together. Even when I haven't been at games I have remained a keen supporter, kicking and heading every ball and cheering the team on TV and being the first to congratulate Joe whenever there's a good result.
When I took the decision to put the Club up for sale in September I made a point of saying two things were very important.
Firstly, any potential buyer would have to show they had the best interests of Newcastle United at heart and had both the commitment and finance to be worthy custodians of such a fine football club before I would even consider doing a deal.
And secondly, I gave you my word that as long as I remain owner, this Club would continue to be run responsibly at all levels. I hope you will accept that I have stood by that pledge.I am happy to end the uncertainty fans may have had about the future direction of Newcastle United. But not as happy as I would be if I'd gotten back the quarter of a billionaire I've sunk into this steaming pile. But at least we all know where this club is headed -- nowhere.
I know just how important that is to you. Trust me, I know. I've heard every word you lot have had to say. I go home and cry in my fanboy shirt after every match. Even the thoughts of Alan Smith's bleached locks or the memories of King Kev's delightful perm doesn't smooth the sting.
I have withdrawn Newcastle United from the market, and for me 2009 will be the year in which we drive the Club forward (or forward-ish) together. Hell, sideways is good enough. 2010, though, will likely be the year I get myself out from under this fucking disaster as the world's economy should be back on two feet. Even when I haven't been at games I have remained a keen supporter, kicking and heading every ball and cheering the team on TV and being the first to congratulate Joe whenever there's a good result. You do understand, though, I mean 'kicking and heading' in the metaphorical sense. Otherwise, I'd give myself a massive coronary. As for Joe, I figure his appointment as manager will save me a few quid, as what top-notch player in his right mind (with high wage demands) is going to sign with him?
When I took the decision to put the Club up for sale in September I made a point of saying two things were very important; Everything else was just filler.
Firstly, any potential buyer would have to show they had the best interests of Newcastle United at heart and had both the commitment and finance to be worthy custodians of such a fine football club before I would even consider doing a deal. But mostly, they had to show me the money. Those best interests mostly involve me getting all my money back. It's ridiculous that I couldn't even get those oil-rich Middle Eastern types to take this junk off my hands. But, at this point, being a 'worthy custodian' isn't exactly a tall order. Forget silverware, all you have to do is save the club from The Drop.
And secondly, I gave you my word that as long as I remain owner (another 18 months, tops), this Club would continue to be run responsibly at all levels. Unfortunately, for you, that means more of the same, both on and off the pitch. Michael Owen? Good as gone. It wouldn't be very 'responsible' of us to hold onto a Sicknote who's lost about 4 steps. Not that he even wants to stick around. I hope you will accept that I have stood by that pledge. For now. Notice I said 'stood by' and not 'honored'. Because at some point in the near future, I'm going to get tired off all that standing (again) and have to go sit down.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
College Cup Final Liveblog
Live from Frisco, Texas, it's the final of the NCAA Men's soccer championship, Maryland versus North Carolina. I'm not sure what it says that college soccer's marquee event follows bull riding on the Worldwide Leader, but such is the world we live in.
Maryland (22-3-0) found their way to the final by beating St. John's, 1-0, with a free-kick goal from Graham Zusi in Overtime. Carolina (15-7-1) earned their berth by knocking off the #1 seed, Wake Forest, in another 1-0 game.
So, what are the chances this one ends with only one goal? Or even goes to PK's?
Guess we'll find out.
One way or another, the ACC is repeating as Champs this year, after Wake won it last year.
PREGAME: We get to see the goals from Friday night's Semi's. It's Harkes and JPC on the mic. I'm sure Harkesy will give us plenty of ammo today. (and f**k Sheffield Wednesday)
1''" Maryland in white tops, red shorts, white socks. Carolina in their lame ass baby blues. Kick-off for Carolina goes almost straight out of touch.
I'm switching to Countdown Clock-mode. Stupid, sexy college soccer.
42": A sunny say in Texas, which might explain why the stadium is practically empty. That or b/c it's college soccer.
41": Maryland's stud GK is only a freshman. The chances he stays four years? Rafa Benitez says there is no chance.
38": The referee's shirt could make one of our kit reviews. Good god, I just got eye-raped. Honestly, possession is back and forth. And I'm in for 90 minutes? UGH.
36": Carolina has a crack at goal, but it's wide left.
35": Maryland plays with the ball in the box (huh-huh), and lofts a ball back-post, but it's claimed by the 'keeper.
34": Yellow card for Carolina for a handball in the midfield. This looks a lot like my recreational men's final two weeks ago.
30": The game is open, but not super tight. A good bit of hoofing it up the field. Worst. Liveblog. Ever.
27": A scrum in the Maryland box after a Carolina corner. But no goal. Dirk Kuyt approves.
25": Maryland are showing signs of culture in the Carolina box, but nothing deadly. The Carolina keeper is down and the clock stops. Really.
Carolina GK is up, but now MD's semi-final goal-scorer is getting a new tape job.
24": For the third time out of what will likely be 43 times, JP mentions that if Carolina wins, it will be the first time in soccer that a school has won championships the same year in the same sport.
23": Carolina's upfield passing is more the 'Hoof and Hope' type.
21": A MD corner (the 2nd consecutive) almost sneaks in backpost, but it's snuffed out for another corner. Maryland takes a crack from outside the box, but it's too crowded.
18": TIME-OUT!! MD look the stronger of the two teams, but they're not exactly outclassing UNC.
adidas would like to remind you that 'Impossible is Nothing'.
18": MARYLAND GOAL. But, it's offsides. Came from a nice one-two, then a thru-ball into the box. That's how you come out of a time-out!
15": The 'crowd' tries to get a chant going, but it lasts about 10 seconds. Carolina then makes a mess of a routine clearance, but Maryland can't capitalize as the GK fumbles and UNC eventually clears.
13": Harkes really hasn't said anything dumb. Think he saves it for the USMNT broadcasts?
12": MD's Zeus plays Hall through, but he can't quite make the stretch properly in the box. Carolina survives. I feel a Terp goal coming.
10": Maryland is certainly fond of playing the ball up field to heads... but they consistantly win them, so I suppose it works. Maryland shoots from 25 out, it flashes wide.
8": Harkes isn't a big fan of the sub rule. Way to take a stance, John.
8": Zeus takes a free kick from 35 yards out. GK can only fist it as that ball had some pace on it.
4": The Terps have had the lion's share of dangerous possession this half. Interestingly, UNC has fouled 8 times, MD only once.
Yes, this game SUCKS. And honestly, so does my liveblog. But....
HALFTIME: They're having on-field introductions with all sorts of recognizable names. They introduce a coach of the '50th Anniversary' team and somebody off-camera says "WHO?!"
45": AND WE'RE BACK!
And the clock countdowns from 45 AGAIN. Ugh, this is killing me.
43": Carolina dribbles the ball into the MD box but flatly refuses to shoot.
40": Maryland is wearing Under Armor uniforms, which isn't accidental. The guy who founded the company is a former Maryland football player (American version).
37": Maryland looks sloppier. Unfortunately, this game isn't getting any better. I'd be interested to know how much time the ball has spent in the air, at a level of 20 feet or above.
27": Sorry, had to fix the HTML. Shockingly, I missed NOTHING.
25": I think this game is going to PK's. Granted, there's 25 minutes left, plus OT, but.. That said, Carolina is giving MD problems right now.
24": And on cue, Zeus finishes for Maryland from inside the box. The ball comes in from the right, Hall has his first-time shot saved and Zeus puts the rebound in. 1-0 Maryland.
How will Carolina respond?
21": TIMEOUT!!
Apparently, I've been misspelling Zusi. Not like the God. Oh well.
20": For you kids at home, the definition of a pro is 'being responsible'. So says Papa Harkes. Carolina's Callahan dribbles into the box, but a kick-save keeps Maryland ahead. UNC is coming.
16": Back and forth we go, knocking the ball up into the air. Volleyball-esque.
12": Maryland isn't even pretending to be interested in possession. Each time they get the ball, they settle and knock it up the pitch.
11": Maryland CK McMath is down. And there's a scrum around a UNC player. Looks like he just got clipped.
McMath is up. Carolina's #20, Wiliams, got a yellow for his troubles.
7": Carolina is trying to add pressure and Maryland is coping.
So, if MD hangs on, will they be burning couches on Route 1 tonight? Methinks it's unlikely.
4": Carolina's #8 is jawing at the ref and actually just touched him in an aggressive manner. How Chelsea-esque of him.
FINAL: Maryland wins, giving it's seniors a 2nd championship. Soak it in, Terp fans, because it's going to be a long basketball season.
Hot College Cup Live Blog Action!
It's the Terrapins of Maryland versus the Tarheels of North Carolina for the NCAA Men's Championship (Worst. Nature Fight. Ever.) and we're live-blogging it.
Can the Terps add a matching bookend to their 2005 championship?
Can the Tarheel men step out from the shadow of their lovely lady counterparts (albeit, only for a minute)?
Find out at 1pm as we shake off our hangovers, flip the boob tube over to ESPN2 and try to forget that Liverpool has yielded their top spot.
Friday, December 12, 2008
The College Cup Overfloweth
While most of us 'round these here parts consider ourselves to be rather learned, the irony is that collegiate soccer tends to get ignored for the most part (honestly, for decent reason). But, that all changes right now (but reverts back very quickly) as the NCAA's Men's College Cup semifinals kick off tonight.
Deep in the heart of Texas (Dallas... or technically, Frisco), North Carolina (the men, shockingly) will be locking horns with Wake Forest whilst my beloved Maryland Terrapins look to dispatch St. Johns directly afterwards.
That's right, kids; It's practically an all-ACC affair.
Want to watch? Well, you're in luck. Partially.
UNC-Wake kicks off live at 5:30pm on ESPN2. Maryland-St. John's is slated for 8pm on ESPNU. But, you're probably like 99% of the country and either don't get or know where to find ESPNU. Lucky you, you can pick yourself off the floor and watch the tape delay Saturday morning at 11am on ESPN2 (Welcome to the WWL's post-college football void).
Also, if you're lucky enough to have an internet service provider that has ESPN360 (which is actually quite useful), you can probably watch it there (also a fine place to watch Champions League replays on demand).
The Final is on Sunday. But, don't expect a post about that unless Maryland wins it all.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
A Very Unprofessional Christmas
While we here at UF respect the holidays of many faiths (...any excuse to drink...), it's obvious that the 800 lb gorilla this time of year is Christmas. In my family, Christmas means one thing (two actually, if you count liberal self-medication) -- good ole fashioned consumerism. If you're part of our clan, whether by blood or relationship, my mother demands a wishlist from you. And in the interest of self-preservation, you'd had better give her one in a timely fashion.
This year, outside of the 3rd season of "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" (seriously, if you don't watch this show, do it now) and assorted Liverpool swag, I'm not really wanting for much. But that's not to say that aren't those who are, though.
So, let's take a peek at what's on the wishlists of some of our Favorites (and non-Favorites) from around the World of Football.
Roy Keane:
A new job and a razor to shave his Unabomber beard ahead of his next interview. Better yet, how about a job as the next pitchman for Gillette razors? Unfortunately, that gig comes to an abrupt end after the red mist descends and he chokes out Titi during the filming of his first commercial.
Kevin Keegan:
Forget the razor, this man just needs a job. Do you have any idea how important it is to a man's self-worth to have a job which he can quit at the first sign of trouble? In lieu of gainful employment, a fat, undeserved pay-out from Newcastle would be welcomed.
Michel Platini:
The Beatles' complete catalog and a lifetime's supply of Thomas' English Muffins, simply because he appears to depise all things English so much.
South Africa:
Luck. With 2010 looming and continued doubts over their ability to stage the next World Cup properly, they're going to need it.
Cristiano Ronaldo:
A body-length mirror to admire himself in and which will tell him who's the loveliest in all the land. Also, lessons from a six-year old on what to do when the ball is headed for your face/head.
Vinnie Jones:
A taste of his own medicine. Oh, he already got it. Then, a tampon to sop up all the blood.
Major League Soccer:
A g*ddamn clue. You don't have the talent pool for continued expansion. Why do you refuse to heed the lessons of the NASL?
Barcelona:
More of the same, please. The UF Crew collectively pities the fools who draw the Catalan club in the knock-out stages of the Champions League. [Ed. Note: And we collectively wish that our teams avoid Barca at all costs]
Sam Allardyce:
A do-over. After passing up the Sunderland job, leaving it for Roy Keane, Big Sam is hoping somebody remembers what wonders he worked at Stupid F-ing Bolton. Also, the Jawbone Bluetooth so he'll continue to look like a fast food drive-thru employee upon his return to management.
Robbie Keane:
A rich vein of form in front of goal. Despite his claim that he's not worried about himself and therefore nobody else should be, it's time for the ₤20M man to start banging them in for Liverpool.
Michael Owen:
Rescue from Newcastle. Not that he deserves it.
The UF Crew:
Handjobs. Much like Polaroid pictures and Scottish football, what once was thought to be an obsolete relic of the past is making a comeback. (Just joking, Scottish football isn't making a comeback)
So, what's on your list?
Read more on "A Very Unprofessional Christmas"...
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Help Heal El Nino!
Remember when Goldenballs broke his foot in the run-up to the 2002 World Cup, putting the word 'metatarsal' on the lips of a previously ignorant public?
Remember how a certain UK tabloid (who shall remain unnamed) printed a picture of his foot and asked Ingerlund fans to use it as a prayer mat to help heal Becks?
Remember how he actually healed and was fit enough to play a role in Ingerlund's inevitable under-performance?
Well, now has come the time to use those potential healing powers for actual Good.
Regardless of your club affiliation, methinks we can all agree on the sublime pedigree of one Fernando José Torres Sanz. Unfortunately, El Nino's talents haven't been on display as much as they should this season. While suffering through a series of (the same) hamstring injuries which have dampened his second season at Anfield, word has it that the brain trust at Liverpool (this obviously rules out G & H) have figured out the problem and hope to put an end to #9's niggling injury. (I personally blame the Spanish National Team. Racists.)
With Liverpool sitting top of the table, the busy Christmas program is approaching and the Reds surely needs El Fantastico (El Nino + Captain Fantastic) operating at peak efficiency in order to keep up its title push. So, I ask you, the UF Readers, to use a picture of El Nino (complete with hamstring clutch) to pray with/on in hopes of getting the phenom back on the pitch.
Now, I understand many of you aren't Liverpool fans. You may not necessarily care about their title aspirations or about Torres' health. But, maybe you hate Chelsea or United? Maybe you don't want to see them win another title this season? Or maybe you just fancy Fernando's flowing blonde locks?
Whatever the reason, I ask you to take a few minutes to say a little prayer to the Footie Gods in hopes of getting my Man Crush back in action.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Adios, Ramos... Hello, 'Arry
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
You Know?
With the ghost of Danny Murphy looking on, this weekend proved plenty sweet for the Red half on UF as Liverpool finally notched a league win over United in the Rafa Era. Not only did it keep LFC atop the table (alongside Chelsea, on ten points), but it also managed to take the shine off Berbatov's bow in Manc red.
But even sweeter is this post-match interview with the legend himself, Jamie Carragher. That is, for one reason... Carra's use of the words 'you know'. You'd think he'd have broken his leg laying down a tackle on Dimitar the way he uses that phrase as a crutch.
Watch the interview and try to count how many times he says 'you know' (assuming you speak Scouse)...
I'll save you the trouble. By my count, in one minute and fifty seconds, Carra wedges it in 28 times.
Impressive, you know?
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Fantasy League or Bizarro World?
If you're like me (6'3" and answer to the name Sven), you probably check your fantasy points a few times over the weekend. Come half-time of any Liverpool match (can we talk about them absolutely STEALING three points? It made me giddy!), I immediately scour the internet to see who's scored and who's holding onto a clean sheet, tallying Clash City's possible points in my head. If I'm lucky, I might even be able to discern, through text commentary, who got an assist. Come the end of that match, I'm back at it again. And again. And again.
Some days are greeted with a cornucopia of unexpected goals; other days a disappointing dearth of them. Yet, this weekend I was treated to a surprise of a different flavor when I discovered that Fabregas had been left in my starting XI while Stephen Ireland (who chipped in for two assists) was on the bench. After taking somebody's name in vein, I realized that the now-bald hair-transplant recipient was at the front of my substitute's list.
So, after the Gameweek came to an end, the subs kicked in and I was treated to an extra 12 (including three bonus points... love the randomness of those) points, shooting me up the table.
Moral of the story? Substitutions are good. That, and I like talking about my team. Not that this will be a regular thing. (Yet, I make no promises)
Speaking of substitutes, how about Djibril Cisse scoring on his debut with Sunderland? At 7.0, he may just be worth a look if you're looking for a well-priced striker. Should Theo Walcott continue to underwhelm (and not even play a full 90), I may just take my own advice.
But Walcott really isn't Arsenal's biggest problem, is he? How about that gaping hole in the midfield? As Cesc Fabregas and his 10.0 value continue to weigh around some managers' necks like a Flava Flav clock, some of you might be tempted to shop elsewhere. How about Deco? Get him why he's still cheap, because with 25 points in two matches, he's shot up from 9.0 to 9.1 to 9.2.
Keeping with the under-achiever theme (we'll ignore the obvious Tottenham reference), have you noticed that Aston Villa have shipped five goals in just two games? Brad Friedel only has four points, where Newcastle's Shay Given has 2o? What kind of bizarro universe it this? Apparently the same in which Darren Fletcher has two goals in two games. Yes, for Manchester United.
Granted, as we've only got two matches under our belt, maybe you should just hang tight with your team and let the players settle. Not me, though. I like to tinker like Ranieri (and I don't want to hear any Rafa/rotation jokes).
Taking a look at the UFFL table, it appears we're just like MLS -- we can't stop expanding. We've added a 22nd team. Unfortunately, we're not receiving any franchise fees.
My viking hat is off to Thor as his XXXXXXX's Raiders (107 points) sit top after moving up from 2nd. Justified FC have claimed second as Maroon Devils (having jumped from 11th) are third with the same amount of points (104).
On the wrong side of the tracks... Change Name and Bigus' Boys sit in the mythical relegation zone while our Blogfather's own Nunca Caminaras Solo is butt-naked last (with a miserable 56 points).
I am also proud to point out that TheoFabregas now has a new captain, with Fernando Torres picking up the captain's armband after Ian pushed Steve Simonsen out of his squad.
What will happen next week?
Maybe Daniel Agger will get a game. Maybe Shaun Wright-Phillips will make the move back to City (for only £10M? Really?). Or maybe, just maybe, Cesc Fabregas get his shit/hamstring together and get his sorry ass back in action.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Welcome to the Jungle: UF Fantasy Footy League
It's Friday and that means The Weekend is upon us. Besides a brief respite from the excruciating minutiae that clutters our weekday lives (or is that just me?) and heavy drinking that is soon to follow (no happy coincidence those two things are side-by-side), The Weekend means footy -- both of the real and fantasy variety.
That's what I'm here to talk to you about today -- UF's Fantasy Football League (and time permitting, a lucrative multi-level business opportunity I'd like to cut you in on). Held through the ever-excellent Premier League platform, our league is off and running, just like it's real-life compatriot (with 37% less whinging).
While we'll likely be recapping the jaw-dropping action of point culmination during the early part of the week, when the new standings are hot and fresh like a Krispy Kreme doughnut, today will serve as an appetizer. So, let's take a look at the teams inhabiting our league and what we might have to look forward to (that is, if you have a gapping hole in your social life like moi). And maybe I'll even drop some golden nuggets of fantasy footy advice along the way.*
(*guaranteed to lead you to mid-table mediocrity. That's right, you can be the Middlesbrough of your league!)
After the first week, Denver CF sits atop the table with an impressive 69-point haul in the initial outing (sixxxxxty-NIIIINNNNE!). Take that with a grain of salt, though, since Hull currently has as many points as Chelsea.
Sitting second in the table is one of my contenders for Worst Named Team --- 'Ronaldo's Raiders'. Unless the team owner's name is actually Ronaldo (which it isn't, it's fucking THOR! Please tell me that's your actual given name, because that would be sublime), any mention of the Douchebag himself immediately draws my ire. Plus, the Raiders fucking blow. They're like West Ham; plenty of history, including a violent faction of fans, that have completely lost the rudder and are currently adrift in a Sea of Suck.
Right behind He Whose Name Shall Not Be Spoken's Pompous Picaroons is another Worst Named Team nominee -- 'ChadBunzFC'. At least this time, the team's namesake is actually a Chad. Yet, anything that conjures up images of a stranger's heiny is lame at best. And apparently, Chad hails from the street and doesn't care about spelling. You see, the 'Z' bestows upon him street cred. Which is something every fantasy footy player should certainly be striving for.
In fourth place resides my last Worst Name nominee -- 'Justified FC'. If manager Tony E meant this to be a Justin Timberlake reference, then I'll take him off probation. Seriously, the kid (Justin, not Tony) oozes talent out his ears (flava infection, maybe?), bathes in pussy and both records are rather enjoyable. Any other interpretation of this team name is unacceptable.
As for Best Named team, I'll rule out my own ('Clash City' being a wonderful Clash reference, thank you very much). I'm partial to our own LB's 'Nunca Caminaras Solo' because I'm a homer (no shame in having to Google it). But, 'Brain Stabbing' has a certain ring to it that I find pleasing. Fan's Attic, you win. 'Cobble Villa', 'Don't Be So Ruud' and 'Where is Watford?' all were in the running as well. Where is Watford? At the bottom of the table, just like your fantasy team.
Taking a look at the make-up of the actual teams, it will come as no surprise that there are certain shared players amongst the competitors. Fernando Fucking Torres leads the front-line for no less than 11 of the 21 clubs. Fabregas, the 2nd leading points getter (behind The Cunt), is employed nine times (and we're all waiting on his fucking ankle to heal). Clichy, a defender who likes to get forward, has found his way onto 7 teams, with Meite (crap defender for a crap team) and Howard (balls! banana! microwave!) are also playing lucky sevens.
Speaking of players, let me take this opportunity to publicly call out Ian for making Stoke goalkeeper Steve Simonsen the captain of his TheoFabregas squad. Are you Glenn Roeder in disguise?
Not that I'm a Special One over here. I'm the only asshole to have made a transfer after the first week. Thanks, Michael Carrick.
So, I'm on the look-out for diamonds in the rough. But, who is going to be the Darkhorse Surprise Player of this season? Well, don't look for any answers today.
#1: I'm hungover and don't have them right now.
#2: There's no way I'm telling this lot in the first fucking post. You'll have to come back.
In the meanwhile, I wonder what happens come Fall when His Douchiness finds his way back into a United shirt. How many of you will pony up the cash to buy the guy who seems to sweat points?
Thursday, August 14, 2008
EPL Previews: Heroes & Villans
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
The Suze Orman Show: Football Edition
Some of you may be familiar with Suze Orman. Flip on CNBC any evening or weekend and she's the loud-mouthed blonde with the Meredith Baxter (formerly Baxter-Birney... sad that I know there's a difference) haircut. Despite her volume control problems, Ms. Orman is knowledgeable enough with the personal finances and devotes a portion of her TV show trying to talk financially-retarded Americans from plunking down $30K for a life-size replica of the 'Lost in Space' robot or some other glue-sniffing-inspired purchase. (seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you people?)
With transfer fees on a continuous climb -- summer in and summer out -- it's time for ol' Suze to take a break from helping IRA-challenged rubes (the Roth-type, dummy) in order to apply her talents to the world of international football.
Hello? Hello? Suze? Yes, Ramon. I'm here. Turn down your TV and talk to me on the phone. What is it that you want to buy? Yes, Suze. What I have my eye on is a thing of beauty, the brightest jewel that outshines them all! You want to buy a jewel? Is it for your wife? Let me tell you, Ramon, us girls LOVE OUR JEWELRY!!! So, what is it? A diamond? DIAMONDS ARE A GIRL'S BEST FRIEND. But, if you buy your wife one, you'll be a close second! **annoying laugh** No no no no no. It is not a piece of jewerly. It is the best footballer in the world. The boy who would look splendid in white. I'm sorry, Ramon. I thought we were talking about diamonds, but you want TO BUY A PERSON? Not just a person, the best footballer in the world. Cristiano Ronaldo. Oh... Well... How much does a Cristiano Ronaldo cost? Well, he is not for sale. Yet, I would say no club could resist an offer of 76 million Euros! 76 MILLION EUROS!! THAT'S ALMOST 120 MILLION DOLLARS! Ramon! **slaps the table** RAMON! 120 MILLION DOLLARS? Unbelievable. **rolls her eyes** Now, can you actually afford this? We can afford whatever we please. Although, the true price would likely be 90 million Euros. 150 million dollars!! RAMON, ARE YOU LISTENING TO YOURSELF? The price just WENT UP IN TWENTY SECONDS!!! How about your debt? What does the club owe? What kind of assets does it have? Assets? We are the world's most important club. Real Madrid is second to nobody. We can buy whatever we want whenever we want. Real Madrid will not be denied. Now, Ramon. Madrid is beautiful. I LOVE SPAIN. TAPAS!!! YUM!!! But, how can you justify spending that kind of money on one player? What if he doesn't kick the ball like you want him to? He does not kick the ball, he caresses the ball and makes the ball do his bidding. Ronaldo will perform. There is no doubt. IT'S 150 MILLION FOR ONE PLAYER!! Can he really make that much of a difference? Will you win your championship now? Actually, we stood triumphant in La Liga last season. I fail to see how this is a wise investment, Ramon. And, how will this go over with your other players? Are they all this expensive? Do you spend like this often? TELL ME RAMON, HOW MANY OF PLAYERS COULD YOU BUY WITH THE MONEY YOU WANT TO SPEND NOW? I do not know. I am not good with the simple math. But, it is of no regard. Manchester United will not sell him to me. They say he is not for sale. I cannot accept this. He is not a slave. Yet, you want to buy him like one? Only to free him. Well, Ramon, I don't know what to tell you. YOU CAN'T BUY WHAT'S NOT FOR SALE! Are you listening to me? Now, go buy your wife some jewelry! Yes, you are right. I should pay 100 million Euros for him. Thank you for endorsement of my idea, Suze.
Cue an overly orange Suze sitting behind her desk, ready to pounce.
Welcome back to the Suze Orman show... On the phone with us now is Ramon from Madrid. HELLO Ramon, what is it that you want to buy?
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