West Ham Away

This weekend was a difficult one all the way around and I'm not just talking about the draw. However, since I just mentioned the elephant in the room, I will say that it is a game of 2 halves and playing for the win in the first half does not mean running around the pitch with a finger up your ass the second half until the other side draws a red card and goes down 10 men.

We all know that a team down to 10 men is much harder to play against than a full squad...
Don't we?

Or am I mistaken and am one of the few people who pay attention to that stat?

Anyways enough on lackluster performances and blaming the referee for giving soft penalties. The Arsenal should be used to that by now.
Shouldn't we?

Alright now that is out of my system.

Saturday

I decided it was best for me to be away. I couldn't handle the idea of showing up to the Chelski match and not seeing Pretzels there with the rest of the Chelski crew. I understand it was a nice showing of people and the match final did them well. Pretzels must have been dancing in the terraces for this one.

Sunday

Waking up was a little tougher than usual. I found myself dragging as I got out of bed and headed to the pub. I was suppose to be doing some family stuff at the good old church but canceled out. I didn't really feel like being fake nice to anyone. Good thing though. I probably would have to contend with being purged or something if I walked through the door.

Football is my religion. Same God, just different scripture.

Actually it's all the same but I'm not going to wax philosophical on it but the season does play out like some strange parable with it's heroes, villains, anti-heroes and clubs in distress. A great myth being told over and over, of which we follow with baited breath, vile curses and celebratory cheer.

I made my way into the pub. Scousers had already taken over most of the seating. ScouseGrubs offered me a spot on the bench seats amongst the red tide. It was strange to say the least to be sitting amongst the Scousers and not getting anything nicked from me. Honestly though, they are a good group, even A Certain Scouser.

Sunday I will admit I was an honorary Scouser for all of 100 minutes. I even tried nicking some of the LFC stuff from the Librarian, whom I didn't know was a librarian but may have known that and forgotten it. Things like that happen with me.

Apparently, the Librarian did forget to give someone their change from signing up for their supporters club. Typical. Typical.

MiniMourinho did an announcement to raise some money for the Chelski kit that is going to have Pretzel's name on it. It's going to be framed and put up in the pub. A fitting tribute. I will admit I was shocked by just how generous people were in giving. MiniMourinho pointed out that most of the people weren't even the regular non-regulars, which made it even more touching.

Cheers for the pub and everyone pulling together in a time such as this.

Now back to the elephant in the room. We already mentioned it at the beginning. 2-nil and the Arsenal fucked it up... again. Alright, I'm done with that. BLAH.

The African contingent was upstairs. I think some of them snuck in the other door. I had gone upstairs to check on Ying. I forgot to mention Ying. Ying gets no cool name because Ying is cool enough. Plus there is no other way to describe Ying besides Ying. Anyways the upstairs was a little crazy, to say the least but B-Dawg and Brit seemed to have held it down.

The rest of the day was spent doing the typical Sunday-Funday stuff. I ran into an old acquaintance who was at the pub with his Irish brother-in-law watching the matches. We caught up a bit and had a laugh with some of the crew. Good times...

Miss you Pretzels.

~LeChat

There's only one Nick Dauner!

I probably shouldn't be writing a blog post in the state that I am in right now. The reality is that I lost a good mate. Someone that you could totally rely on. A true supporter of the game today. I write these words in the spirit of himself. Nick Dauner aka Pretzels.

I do realize that I am a shot and a couple pints of Magner's into my evening, just had a few with some of the faithful at the pub. I don't think Pretzels would have had it any other way. Great guy this one was, is, and always will be.

It was nice to see the good bunch out in force, taking over the cafe seating on a very warm October night. It was good to share a few jokes and a few memories. Like a private memorial for a good person who touched all our lives.

I am just glad I had him get a Kooper's burger. It's all about the oppurtunities, you may miss them if you don't grab them. I do hate the whole "seize the day! I just watched that Robin Williams movie bullshit! The reality of it all is that ones flame can be snuffed in an instance.

I know I probably shouldn't be writing anything right now. I said that in the beginning. However, I lost a mate, so please forgive me and indulge my selfish babbling.

Sometimes you are up, sometimes you are down. Sometimes you are relegated.

I'll be seeing Pretzels on the terraces, one day, I know that's an immortal truth.

There's only one Nick Dauner
There's only one Nick Dauner
walking along, singing a song
walking in a Dauner wonderland!

Love ya Nick, even if you were a Chelski blue!

~LeChat

p.s. fuck editing, I don't care if it looks good.

Midweek - Alakazaaam! AZ Alkmaar Away

Champions league mid-week group stages for me only mean one thing and one thing only... I will not and can not call out sick to enjoy a few pints at the pub. From what I understand though. This mid-week might have been one to enjoy at least for 92 minutes.

A Certain Scouser decided to give me a few updates, while I was deciding on whether or not a few clients actually qualified as low income or trying to pull one over on good ol' LeChat. The texts started off friendly enough. I mean what more can you ask for. Good friends sending you updates.

Oh, apparently, ChelskiGirl was sending text but I didn't get them because they went to my email. In an effort to save face, she blamed the I-Phone.

I'm looking at you! ChelskiGirl!

So, like Liverpool's chances at winning the league, A Certain Scouser's texts went from this nice friendly tone to garbled letters to rumblings of suicidal tendencies. I tried to give some reassurance but the Scousers were playing O'Lyon.

In order to keep some semblance of mental notes that I try to gather here and espouse onto my causal and not so casual readers, I must admit I am partial to Lyon in Ligue 1. However at the time, I did not realize who the Scousers were playing. My condolences were heart-felt though.

OL OL OL

Anyways, let me get away from Scousers for a moment. I do value my life and wallet and recently did get my car back from the mechanic. All wheels are currently attached and I still have my stereo.

Monday evening, I want to definitely give a shout out to Sheffield. Texting You Fill Up My Senses made for a better day than the one I was actually having. Cheers Mate!

OH! Interesting news. I don't know how many of you follow the Show Racism the Red Card campaign but it is one of the few movements out there that I actually give a care about. It seems that after the Rangers lost to whoever they were playing, there was some amount of racial abuse hurled towards Maurice Edu as he was getting into his car to go home.

Here you have a case of a player at his home ground receiving racial abuse from the knuckle dragging miscreants who consider themselves supporters of their club. Now I know I am not holier than thou or anything like that and I've said a few things myself but nothing of this kind of magnitude. Here's the article, if you care.

Oh and thanks to a good friend of mine for showing me this article as well. Not to change the subject but I'll just quote part of it from the IrishTimes.

French soccer manager Raymond Domenech is public enemy number one in Ireland after dismissing the Irish soccer team as second-rated has-beens.

"They are the England Bs,” he told an Irish journalist with a Gallic shrug.

"There won’t be any surprises in the World Cup play-offs," he sniffed. "We know precisely what to expect.”

And on that note. Au revoir.

~LeChat

BIRMINGHAM at HOME and WC2010 Playoff Draw

Where shall I begin?

This weeks blog, like my beautiful little Volkswagen, is having a hard time starting. I am sure that the finishing will be much better than what the Scousers had going on this weekend however.

(Apologies to all my Scouse friends, you may want to stop reading now.)
I believe there was some kind of benefit or get-together on Friday. I only picked up a smattering of what was going on from A Certain Scouser after I was a couple beers into a happy hour before band practice. Needless to say I was unable to attend. I do enjoy their little soirees.

However, I will admit. The beach ball party on Saturday morning was a lot more fun.

Alright, alright, I can feel the ice-picks being thrown across the intertubes now.

So I wasn't in a hurry to watch the first match. I really didn't care too much, either way. I slept in for a few and luckily my car decided to start. So far it was appearing to be a good day.

Making my way into the pub, I get stopped by some of the Chelski jokers about my blue colored jacket. It happens all the time. I quickly opened up and pointed to the cannon on my old school top and laughs were had. I was then told to not turn around and look at the screen.

With confusion on my face, I slowly peer over my shoulder and see it. Villa up and Chelski making very little impact. I smiled, yes only smiled and maybe chuckled a bit and waved myself on. I spoke to ChelskiGirl and Mini-Mourinho before heading down to the Arsenal end of the pub.

I am seriously just going to claim the whole back booth area. For some reason, all our games seem to be on at the same time as the Scousers. And with Irish being a Scouse loving Irishman, we know whose going to be on the main screen. No offense on that, like I've said before, hardest working man in the business. Plus the Scousers do have a rather large contingent, even on beach ball day.

LilBlondieGooner and her man were at the end of the bar. First thing that comes out of her mouth was something along the lines of 'You're late, I expected you to be here already.' Not much I could say, except I decided to sleep in and no one cares about Chelski playing Villa. I now stand corrected.

Also, apparently you can order fruit and toast. Yes, fruit and toast. Go figure.

Well I settle down in the back booths after making some Joe Cole comments and order up some breakfast. A little more substantial than fruit and toast. However this prompts LilBlondieGooner into calling me fat. So I am keeping that one in a little notebook. She will get hers. *insert evil laughter*

I have to admit, nothing too exciting happened. The Gunners showed up, a little sloppy to say the least. Someone started singing 99 Red Balloons after Sunderland scored against the Scousers. Well it was sung quite a few times but no one could get past the beginning of the song.

I did give consolations to my Scouse friends. It was really a dubious decision by the Ref, who by the way, is always a bastard. I was reading in the Guardian about how it should have been disallowed, which is what my immediate thought was.

I might be an annoying Gooner sometimes, but HEY, I do know what's fair and what some of the more obscure rules of the game, for the most part. It is nice to have some kind of confirmation of the fact without having to look it up in a rule book.

Anyways, it was a positive, albeit London weather like, Saturday for the pub and football, and most of all the Arsenal. Everyone dropping points, except for the bloody Scum. I still can't believe they are one point ahead of us.

Yah, Game in Hand, I know. Still Scum sit above The Arsenal in the table.

Sunday

My Sunday was suppose to be heading down to the pub to harass City and catch up with ACMilan. However, German engineering sought to derail my attempts at forming a resistance by staging an occupation of my back yard. Or the Scousers nicked my starter. Someone is plotting against me. So I spent most of the day figuring out that my battery was not the issue and that I would have to go to a real mechanic.

What do you Germans and Scousers have in common...


The English version. You know, whatever you do, don't mention the war.

OH I need to pass on this story, as well. ACMilan, which I must mention, calls me late in the day with a wonderful tale that needed to be witnessed. He sends me an MMS with himself posing with a bunch of guys from a reggae band. He calls it his good luck charm.

Apparently, when all hope was lost. These guys started setting up to perform at the pub that night. ACMilan asked if they could hold off for a bit while the game was finishing. They agreed and were messing around a bit. ACMilan said they started playing Three Little Birds, and Milan started playing like they were all a bunch of 20 year olds, coming back and winning their match against Roma.

He said the music just fit, everything was just working, clicking on all cylinders. Then he started singing, "Don't worry bout a thing, cause every little thing, is going to be alright." Which I will admit, hearing ACMilan singing Bob Marley, was a highlight on a rather dismal Sunday.

MONDAY - World Cup Playoff Draw

As many of you may or may not know, I do not get much time to access the intertubes from work. Today, during my lunch, half not thinking, I decide to have a look at the good old Guardian. The Guardian goes well with cheesesteak subs apparently.

My bookmark is actually on the football page. Top story just happened to be this one.
France will not intimidate Irish

Very interesting indeed. I was expecting the draw to go a little different. I did not expect to be drawn against the Irish. It's going to make for a very uncomfortable mid-November at the pub. My only consolation is knowing that the French games will be on the big screen. I hope that SlainteLOSC does decide to turn up. United we must stand in a sea of green.

I must point out that this still does not discredit my World Cup conspiracy theory. It just proves it, more or less. Ireland could actually be a contender but what would FIFA do if they actually took the thing? Seriously, if Ireland does get lucky and beat France, then at least they can say they beat one of the better teams out there and have proof that they are a serious contender. My guess is there is always wishful thinking or luck of the Irish. HA!

Allez les Bleus!

~LeChat

Internationals or How I plot my move to Faroe Islands!

YES YES it's another INTERNATIONAL WEEKEND!
Throw on your favorite country's colours and dance like you want to...

I took a rare and I mean rare Friday night out. I found myself in my normal spot, amongst the strangers, tourists and ne'er do wells at the bottom end of the Point. I had nothing else better to do and the weather was kind.

All in all uneventful, minus the fact that one of the ne'er do wells and a restaurant next door patron decide to come to a few shoves and a bunch of yelling. Apparently, calling someone's significant other a whore is grounds for an ass kicking. Now I don't make judgments on one's whoredom or lack of whoredom but it really isn't a nice thing to say on a beautiful Friday evening.

ChelskiGirl popped down for her usual Magners shortly after the excitement. BlackSpy joined up and we sat for a few before deciding to move to a different spot. I was still suffering the ill effects of last week's chest cold and the cuba libres weren't doing the job, so I dumped out before turning into a pumpkin.

SATURDAY or better known as my plot to move to Faroe Islands

MiniMourinho gives me a call in the morning to let me know he's heading out for the pub and to warn me about the marathon. We discuss the finer points of avoiding the hassles of getting to the pub and I make the decision to wait about half an hour longer before leaving. I wasn't in much of a hurry to see the Germany game and the England game was more of a "well if I make it down there in time" sort of thing.

You know, whoever was the genius to create a marathon in the middle of football season should be shot. No, really.

I make it down to the pub and am greeted by the trio of ChelskiGirl, MiniMourinho and Pretzels. They had been in there for a while watching the German Russian game. I took a seat down towards the other end with Shane who recounted his hour and half journey into the city because of the marathon. It's usually a 20 minute trip or thereabouts.

After the match, Pretzels and I decided we were hungry and decided to grab burgers next door. He had never had a burger from there or the Chowhound so what better time than now. We headed over and sat at Jonfromnextdoor's bar. It's always nice and laid back up there.

Pretzels and I had a good conversation about internationals, military school, people with security clearances, Afghanistan and crazy girls from central Europe. Jonfromnextdoor, of course, entertained with his usual comedy routine.

We headed back over to the pub for the Faroe Islands game. Well Pretzels had to meet some people for the Hungarian game and I was more interested in the clinical dispatching of my newly adopted island country.

I walked in and Jersey was there, whom I forgot moved back to Jersey, and theBlondeguy, whose name I always forget. Nice to see familiar faces for the Faroe Islands match. I sat along the back wall, while Pretzels and friends were in the first booth.

I was soon joined by a nice gentleman who greeted me with a handshake and cheery "Bon Jour". He took the seat next to me and we had a few good exchanges about the surgical slicing of the French attack on the hapless journeymen from the Faroe Islands. It was nice to sit with the FrenchUncle and enjoy the game.

Yes I know I should not gloat about beating the Faroe Islands but I seriously love the idea of that place. I don't know why. I do know that the only legal way to hunt Harbor Dolphins in the Faroe Islands is by shotgun. While I am not a big fan of hunting in general, you have to admit that's a really interesting, if not bizarre, way to hunt a water dwelling mammal.

ACMILAN decides to show up about halftime. He was making his way to the Ireland Italy match. So I wished him bad luck. They were drawn at the half and I was not so secretly wishing for the Irish to actually do something.

While I was in discussion with ACMilan, Pretzels crew consisting of M and TinyScouser were trying to get Irish to switch to the Hungarian game. I, of course, protested stating that the game is 90 minutes and the French have not won just yet.

I won and delicate dismantling of the Faroe Islands continued.

As the game is ending I get a text from ChelskiGirl about how her beloved Serbia just dispatched the Romanians in a much similar way. A few shouts and groans from the upstairs bar could be heard. Apparently the Italians kept their first spot in the group.

ACMilan comes down and confirms the truth. We both acknowledge the Irish fans as they are leaving. A few jokes pass back and forth and good laughs had by all.

TinyScouser decided to make her voice heard for about 5 minutes, apparently she didn't even see the game but insisted the Italians cheated. ACMilan didn't like this one bit. I think I missed half of what happened because of leaving in the middle of it all. I wanted to catch a nap before coming back out that night for the US game.

I got a few updates about it from ACMilan after I got back home. I couldn't tell if it got intense or not but I am guessing TinyScouser had a few drinks in her.

Saturday NIGHT

The pub was one of six places across the country hosting the actual game. I think we were suppose to have it in English but we had the Spanish feed. It didn't matter too much anyways, the English feed had lame commentators and it was really more exciting just to watch the game.

I, myself, am not a big fan of the US Team to begin with. I was really there to hang out with the locals and absorb the atmosphere. Plus what else is there to do on a Saturday night but enjoy some International football.

It was crowded in the Point. I drove around for about 30 minutes before biting the bullet and paying a fiver at the garage. ManCity was out in front of the pub, nice to see a familiar face, we greeted each other and chatted for a few. I walk in and get the star treatment by the ManagerInBlack. ManCity balked about it and I smiled and said I'm a VIP.

The pub itself was chock full when I arrived. I ended up with the round table in the back, soon to be joined by ChelskiDaddy. It was nice to see him out on Saturday night. DJM showed up with M and a couple other locals were around. However, there were plenty of punters I had never seen before.

TinyScouser had some ID issues and ManagerInBlack pulled me up to find out who she was and if she was a regular. I guess VIP status has some responsibilities.

VinnyReading comes in with IrishJim and they head upstairs. Something about a jacket and making sure IrishJim didn't get into any trouble. They had been drinking at IrishJim's bar since the end of the Ireland Italy game. All I know is there is like a ton of whiskey behind that bar, a dangerous place.

ChelskiGirl showed up some time after that and continued to ramble on about Serbs. Then the fact that I was surrounded by Chelski supporters. Which my response is how is that any different from any other Saturday.

Around the half ACMilan comes strolling in wearing a shirt and tie. I didn't ask what he had been up to but I am sure someone is currently in the harbor wearing cement shoes. (I tell a joke.)

ACMilan and I start discussing the finer points of the game and dissecting all the international teams. What makes them tick? We were both in agreement over the lack of creativity in the US side. They have the players but they play a very vertical game. I think they could contend with the likes of some of the top teams and even with a little luck bring themselves home a cup, but they need to be smarter and a whole hell of a lot more creative.

Sometime during the game, ManCity and friends started singing Who the Fahk are Man United. This did not sit well with M and she gave him the business apparently. I could not see the full action but it was pretty funny. I had never seen her without a smile, so that was interesting.

Overall the night went smoothly, no craziness but the overall good feeling you get from Internationals. A ton of people who you don't know, all united in the spirit of the beautiful game.

There is nothing else like it. Football.

~LeChat

Blackburn HOME (Mr. Wenger's 13th anniversary)

Where to begin, where to begin?

A little background for those who don't know.
Mr. Wenger began his Arsenal career v. Blackburn at home.
Mr. Wenger celebrates his anniversary v. Blackburn at home.
Mr. LeChat fondly remembers a George Graham led Arsenal kicking the yarbels out of same said club at home. (little fuzzy on details, not even sure if it was a league game the more I think about it.)
Blackburn brings me the happy.

Friday Evening
...began with a call from Sheffield. Calls from Sheffield on a Friday usually start out with, "let's have a pint and call it an early evening." However, he and I both know that is not the way it ends, ever. I took a rain check and headed home for a restart in the morning.

SATURDAY
Ahhh the Fun Festival. Nothing butters up your day as a million lost souls looking for worthless trinkets sold by some vendors. There is only one, well a few good things about the Fun Festival. PIT BEEF being the first and second.

The local crew were around, as there weren't many interesting games on in the morning. It started off with just myself, MiniMourinho and ChelskiGirl. We demanded the Burnley game but were given Scum v. Bolton, which was only down to Scum being near the top of the table. (I refuse to acknowledge their place in the league)

I also believe Irish was trying to make me suffer, cause he did ask me which game for the big screen. Bastard.

A Birmingham supporter came in but that didn't persuade him any either. Irish told him the game was upstairs, so he went on up. We all chuckled about it. Honestly, I don't think anyone of the three of us cared which match was on, just nice to sit with old friends talking about inane things.

11AM rolls around and it was decided that the time was nigh for PIT BEEF. Step outside and standing on the curb is Sheffield with Brummie. Brummie was digging into some Pad Thai she got from one of the booths and Sheffield had already began the PIT BEEF mission. Needless to say ChelskiGirl and I hit up the first PIT BEEF stand we saw. Sheffield had a secret spot, that he waited until after we had gotten ours and then decides to go there. Bastard.

It did not matter. There was PIT BEEF and it was GOOD.

Back at the pub, MiniMourinho decided to call it early and jostled off to home. The rest of the crew stuck about for the MancScum match. MancSheriff shows up but was really the only one to actually show up for the screening. He had been up the street and walked down.

I have to say, Sunderland put on a great show for the first half. ChelskiGirl is hungry and decides Pad Thai sounds good. I agree to share it, just because neither one of us are big eaters but enjoy a good meal. Brummie's Pad Thai had looked so delicious as well. I believe Sheffield might have also taken a bite or two. Community eating while watching MancScum drop points to Sunderland.

AHHHHH Saturday.

SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY the main event. 830AM

Let's just say I won't discuss my Saturday evening but I had the fond memory of being reminded that I was still suffering from a mild chest cold. Sleep what is that thing you call sleep. Half-a-dozen Carlsbergs... BAD IDEA.

However, I awaken to nice crisp, not quite Autumn day. It was beautiful. The sun was shining. It was nice light jacket weather. I woke up at 630 or so... popped my Pandora on the laptop -Ska/Dirty Reggae station, which decided to play like a dozen of my favorite songs in a row... drive down to the point in 15 minutes... find parking at the corner of Wolfe and Aliceanna (free!)... walk to the pub, whistle happy song!

HalfArseDean was at the pub, apparently he was there on Saturday as well but was across the street when I was leaving. Anyways, Irish starts trying to work his wit against me but I pull out my rapier.. touche touche... I score a few good ones.

The room starts to fill. GrumpyGooner has a seat next to me and HalfArseDean. ArseSaintNick rolls in, late as usual. Half way through the first half LilBlondieGooner is texting me like crazy about wanting to miss work. She actually sneaks down and catches the end of the half before running out the door.

A Certain Scouser was trying to get me to save some seats for her and her friend. However I sent her a text back saying that all the seats were nicked by Scousers. I am sure she found that amusing. Anyways the surge of non-Arsenal red was penetrated by the ever jovial Chelski bunch.

And were they penetrated!

Highlight reel moment: ScouseGrubs was standing in the corner, being mellow, as usual. The Chelski bunch are singing One man went to Mo and ScouseGrubs, like a man possessed, leaps over a table, knocks over like 10 people and starts in with You Ain't Got No History. The next thing I notice the pub was at a deafening pitch; Scousers, Chelski trying to out sing each other.

THIS. IS. FOOTBALL.

ScouseGrubs turns around with his normal half smiling look, so I give him a guyshake, you know the half hug handshake. He departed along with most of the others. A Certain Scouser stuck around with a pouty face, tried to cheer her up a little bit but I think the under-performance of her club had her down.

By the way, I am still taking offers on a proper Red & White shirt.

MiniMourinho was his old self, which was good to see. Overall the Sunday afternoon was a good time. The crew decided to try and stick around for the American game, which was fun for about 10 minutes.

There were a couple of people that came into the pub from the Fun Fest to watch the game. We let them come to the understanding that this was a proper football pub. A few choruses of some delightful songs began with You Fill Up My Senses, followed by the ARSELOBA melodies. Irish began doing a jig. Some of the outsiders paid their tab and left quickly thereafter.

Mission Accomplished.

If your friends can't sing and if they don't sing then they're no friends of mine!

~LeChat