Yah I know the titles have left their usual format. Does it really matter? Perhaps no.
It comes down to a win away and a champions league draw to OM. I can't complain about that. OM is a tough team on a bad day. In their honor, I will listen to Keny Arkana, which seems quite appropriate at this juncture in time.
By the way, I find it astounding how many people simply have no clue about what is going on in the world around them, even in their own backyards. Quite disappointing really, this is why I put no faith in people who only wish to rise to the top without stopping to actually smell the daisies. It's all about how fast and not about having any kind of quality to life.
I, myself, am not the be all and know all of anything. However, I will not shrink away from enjoying my life instead of not enjoying it only to earn a few platitudes. The platitudes will fade and become fading script on an old newspaper or useless data on some computer disk somewhere in the world. It's all for naught if life is never enjoyed.
Anyways, enough of my raging. The future is here. HA! The future is fucked.
Come first of the year, maybe before or after depending on my level of lazy, the blog will hopefully be moving to my own domain. The plan is actually to do a 365 blog, for a number of reasons but there is a lot to say, er write.
I actually need to do some planning, sit down and decide which way I want it to look and feel. As you may have figured it will be a bit away from this one, yes there will still be the Football connections as well as some other things; Music, Art, Technology, Commentary, Politics, Philosophy, but most of all simply me and everything that means.
I think therefore I am; I write because I fucking can.
-LeChat
Showing posts with label champions league. Show all posts
Showing posts with label champions league. Show all posts
02 November 2011
14 September 2011
Swansea at Home, Borussia Dortmund (CL)
So much talk, still, about the 8-2
dismantling of the Arsenal by the hands or should I say feet of the
MancScum that you would think the season was over... in September. It
can be like that, life, over-dramatic and unnecessarily inaccurate
(double negative, I know). We tend to forget about what will happen
the next week or the week after that. It's not all fatalistic.
I have a grand idea, let's keep
watching until May, then decide what the story was/is going to be.
The next week has happened. It wasn't
the overwhelming success that one would think for a top whatever side
against a newly promoted Swansea but there is that shred of hope.
Even in the darkest hour there shall be light.
I never quite understood how one can
have some thing that at the time seemed so debilitating, so
overwhelming, so dreadful, be the end all and be all. It may have
been about 3 years ago now, during the apex of the whole mortgage
foreclosure crisis in the US. A woman decided to throw herself off
the topish floor of a garage downtown. It caused a bit of a mess.
Now, that is a way to go, about 10
floors of just free-fall and hitting the ground. While, I never got a
full clear story about why she did it, the only thing I could think
is, “what was the trigger that made her do it.” I have no idea
whether she was married or had children or even elderly parents to
look after. The whole thing comes off as a really selfish act,
albeit, quite a dramatic one.
At the end of the day, you have to ask
yourself, were the problems she had really that bad? Did the issues
she have really affect her in a way that there was no other way out?
Like I said, I'm not her and I couldn't have any possible way to know
what was going through her mind or what pushed her over the edge in
such a manner. I wonder if anyone ever helped put it all in
perspective.
Perspective, I guess that is the most
important thing. Keeping everything in perspective. Sure an 8-2 loss
seems like the end of the world. Sure 6 seasons with no proper
silverware seems like an end to an era but the reality of it is...
it's not.
A few trades, Swansea and Borussia
Dortmund later, there is a whole new look, a beacon at the end of a
really long and dark tunnel. The only hope is that the beacon of
light is not a train but actual light.
Funny thing about that analogy, I've
been hiking through a tunnel when a train decided to come by. Mind
you and me, not the most fun thing in the world to have happen.
However, it could have been worst...much worst.
~LeChat
05 September 2011
Udinese CL and United Away
My mind says I should have written this about a week ago. My heart says I was right to wait a bit before putting something down. I'm not going to dwell on the victory or the loss. What's the point in doing that now?
So here we are, the close of the transfer window that had quite a few last minute decisions made. I can't say either way but sometimes in life you got to make decisions. Sometimes you have to say am I going to keep letting this happen or do I just make a firm decision. I assume the later happened for now we see Benayoun and Arteta pulling on the red and white.
I can neither be shocked nor surprised. In reality, I care about as much as... wow, can't even come up with a proper analogy. By the way, I'm about to drop kick blogger in a minute; keeps refreshing in the middle of sentences.
Two weeks ago, whilst watching the utter demise of the sp*rs followed by the superior drubbing of the Arsenal. It was quite interesting to have this odd fellow go on a tirade about spending for players and having a plan and other such nosh. When in fact the only way to get his point across was to get exponentially louder when anyone offered any differing opinion. No sense in trying to have a practical conversation about football at that point.
It is as if the blinders had been put in place and there was nothing you could say or suggest that would make a difference. I don't want to compare that with a current political rhetoric that is occurring right now and has been for the last 10 years or so. I really don't understand it nor shall I try.
Full circle and I still lack an analogy for not caring and wanting to drop kick something for the sake of just drop kicking something. The dull thud of foot to body contact or better yet the hollow thunk of hitting someone directly in the chest cavity.
Anyways, the last couple of weeks; a sound thrashing at the hands of MancScum, an earthquake, a hurricane (that wasn't too bad), a few decent trades, and a grand prix that people decided to complain about. I like to agree with one observant fellow who stated, "you knew about it for over a year!"
Thank you and good night.
~LeChat
So here we are, the close of the transfer window that had quite a few last minute decisions made. I can't say either way but sometimes in life you got to make decisions. Sometimes you have to say am I going to keep letting this happen or do I just make a firm decision. I assume the later happened for now we see Benayoun and Arteta pulling on the red and white.
I can neither be shocked nor surprised. In reality, I care about as much as... wow, can't even come up with a proper analogy. By the way, I'm about to drop kick blogger in a minute; keeps refreshing in the middle of sentences.
Two weeks ago, whilst watching the utter demise of the sp*rs followed by the superior drubbing of the Arsenal. It was quite interesting to have this odd fellow go on a tirade about spending for players and having a plan and other such nosh. When in fact the only way to get his point across was to get exponentially louder when anyone offered any differing opinion. No sense in trying to have a practical conversation about football at that point.
It is as if the blinders had been put in place and there was nothing you could say or suggest that would make a difference. I don't want to compare that with a current political rhetoric that is occurring right now and has been for the last 10 years or so. I really don't understand it nor shall I try.
Full circle and I still lack an analogy for not caring and wanting to drop kick something for the sake of just drop kicking something. The dull thud of foot to body contact or better yet the hollow thunk of hitting someone directly in the chest cavity.
Anyways, the last couple of weeks; a sound thrashing at the hands of MancScum, an earthquake, a hurricane (that wasn't too bad), a few decent trades, and a grand prix that people decided to complain about. I like to agree with one observant fellow who stated, "you knew about it for over a year!"
Thank you and good night.
~LeChat
22 August 2011
3 games 1 blog
Well 2 plus one qualifier have passed. And yes this is my first actual blog of the season. I wasn't up to writing at all this summer or even towards the end of the season. Isn't it time for us to get reacquainted.
This blog itself became a concept in my mind several years ago, after my umpteenth reading of Fever Pitch. If you haven't read it and claim to be a football supporter, then I'd put it on your summer/autumnal reading list. Basically, the author parallels his ups and downs in his life with the ebb and flow of a certain North London club's season. I'll just say it's a good read and there have been two movies made out of it. (One for an American audience with the Red Sox as the team... *grumble*)
Now that was not my only inspiration, or should I say push to make the concept come to fruition. There have been several other books written on the discourse of how society and culture relate to football. And there is no denying that it has become so entwined in the very lives of some peoples that it permeates every aspect of culture.
Why is this important?
It is what this blog is about; my society, my culture, my life and how football impregnates it, parallels it and frankly can make a right mess of it. I don't really care about how many kilometers player x ran or whether or not player y got traded on for 50 million quid and a very nice looking sheep. There is plenty of coverage of that... stuff... is it necessary to have another blog about it?
So here, I lay out my life, my thoughts and my general ideas about everything and it's relationship with the one thing. It would be easy to say that I have some clearly obsessive tendency but that is not the case. However, it should be noted that football is the glue that can bring some very divergent minds together. It's a beautiful thing.
I can have a conversation with the rest of the world; agree, disagree, or come to an agreement to disagree, yet at the end of the day, still respect that opinion. That's the real beauty of it. The game itself is just a backdrop. It would be nice if we could all sit down for a pint, maybe those in white castles could have a better understanding of those in the favela, perhaps?
Who knows?
What I do know is that I spent the last two weekends at the pub. Back in action with a few familiar faces and some that I have never seen before and more than likely not see much often after. While I might pretend to not want any newbies showing up, it really is a good thing. It shows there are those out there who just might get drawn into the fold. Someone for whom a spark will light off in their dim, mundane, every day existence and will finally be welcomed as an us, rather than a them.
I might get accused for treating football supporters like an exclusive club, but it's obvious, there is a certain pretext to it, an underlying evolution that has occurred in each and every supporter at one time or another. It is the glue that binds as well as causes cruddy things to stick, whether we like it or not; drunken, violent, territorial, loud and sophomoric. I stop short of moronic because that is simply unfair; morons receive benefits and treatment.
These are the things that football supporters are accused of around the world; not to mention homophobia, xenophobia, nationalism and racism. We, ourselves, know this to be a minority and shouldn't let it taint our love and love others have for the game.
It is quite sad that this is on my mind at the start of a season. It is a bitter reality, a pill to swallow. In order to know beauty, one must also know ugliness. Another cliché would be that beauty will prevail above all else. Let's hope it does and the rest of the season is a beautiful one.
Now that was not my only inspiration, or should I say push to make the concept come to fruition. There have been several other books written on the discourse of how society and culture relate to football. And there is no denying that it has become so entwined in the very lives of some peoples that it permeates every aspect of culture.
Why is this important?
It is what this blog is about; my society, my culture, my life and how football impregnates it, parallels it and frankly can make a right mess of it. I don't really care about how many kilometers player x ran or whether or not player y got traded on for 50 million quid and a very nice looking sheep. There is plenty of coverage of that... stuff... is it necessary to have another blog about it?
So here, I lay out my life, my thoughts and my general ideas about everything and it's relationship with the one thing. It would be easy to say that I have some clearly obsessive tendency but that is not the case. However, it should be noted that football is the glue that can bring some very divergent minds together. It's a beautiful thing.
I can have a conversation with the rest of the world; agree, disagree, or come to an agreement to disagree, yet at the end of the day, still respect that opinion. That's the real beauty of it. The game itself is just a backdrop. It would be nice if we could all sit down for a pint, maybe those in white castles could have a better understanding of those in the favela, perhaps?
Who knows?
What I do know is that I spent the last two weekends at the pub. Back in action with a few familiar faces and some that I have never seen before and more than likely not see much often after. While I might pretend to not want any newbies showing up, it really is a good thing. It shows there are those out there who just might get drawn into the fold. Someone for whom a spark will light off in their dim, mundane, every day existence and will finally be welcomed as an us, rather than a them.
I might get accused for treating football supporters like an exclusive club, but it's obvious, there is a certain pretext to it, an underlying evolution that has occurred in each and every supporter at one time or another. It is the glue that binds as well as causes cruddy things to stick, whether we like it or not; drunken, violent, territorial, loud and sophomoric. I stop short of moronic because that is simply unfair; morons receive benefits and treatment.
These are the things that football supporters are accused of around the world; not to mention homophobia, xenophobia, nationalism and racism. We, ourselves, know this to be a minority and shouldn't let it taint our love and love others have for the game.
It is quite sad that this is on my mind at the start of a season. It is a bitter reality, a pill to swallow. In order to know beauty, one must also know ugliness. Another cliché would be that beauty will prevail above all else. Let's hope it does and the rest of the season is a beautiful one.
31 May 2011
Bridesmaids!
I bet that is how the old MancScum are feeling about now. I know this blog is about a day late and always a dollar short. This weekend did prove quite interesting overall.
Saturday started off with a few coordination issues but eventually we all ended up where we needed to be at the right time. Champions League final at the pub. It was also the pre-celebration of HalfArseDean's birthday.
The few of us who had met up at the dollar store rolled around to the pub. The pub was packed. A lot of familiar faces showed up. It was like an end of the year homecoming, if that homecoming had a ton of MancScum that you've never really spied before.
I'm not complaining, just making a point. Most of us did our best to ensure there was an atmosphere of sorts. Even Karate Kid Johnny decided to give it a go and tried to get his fellow Scum supporters into it. He was a bit successful and now a bit more respected.
That's all it takes, really. If you show up, support your club and take your lumps, you get the respect. If you show up, act like an ass when your lumps are given to you, then you can fuck off to the bistro.
At the end of the day, we decided to keep the party going a bit for HalfArseDean. He's a good person and an impromptu party/bar crawl is what he needed. Good times.
Monday saw what was to be a disappointing promotion final for Reading. Myself, Ginger, the Librarian and HalfArseDean showed up at the pub to support. Vinnie, found himself in a seat at Wembley. We were hoping to spot him on the television but weren't so lucky. I guess it wasn't anyone's day, well except Swansea who will probably pick up a point at the Grove next season.
So a weekend of ups and downs, good friends and better drinks. One can't complain about that. Now off to the summer things...
....whatever that is.
You're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off of you. You'd be like heaven to touch. I want to hold you so much. At long last love has arrived. I thank God I'm alive. You're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off of you.
Pardon the way I stare. There is nothing else to compare. The sight of you leaves me weak. There are no words left to speak. But if you feel like I feel. Please let me know that it's real. You're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off of you.
Bahdah Bahdah Bah dah da da da, Bahdah Bahdah Baaaah!
IT'S AR-SE-LOBA la la la laaa lalaa
It's Arseloba la la la laaa lalaa
It's Arseloba, Arseloba FC
The GREATEST team, that no one has ever seen!
(just a frame of reference. let's get the shirts started)
~LeChat
Saturday started off with a few coordination issues but eventually we all ended up where we needed to be at the right time. Champions League final at the pub. It was also the pre-celebration of HalfArseDean's birthday.
The few of us who had met up at the dollar store rolled around to the pub. The pub was packed. A lot of familiar faces showed up. It was like an end of the year homecoming, if that homecoming had a ton of MancScum that you've never really spied before.
I'm not complaining, just making a point. Most of us did our best to ensure there was an atmosphere of sorts. Even Karate Kid Johnny decided to give it a go and tried to get his fellow Scum supporters into it. He was a bit successful and now a bit more respected.
That's all it takes, really. If you show up, support your club and take your lumps, you get the respect. If you show up, act like an ass when your lumps are given to you, then you can fuck off to the bistro.
At the end of the day, we decided to keep the party going a bit for HalfArseDean. He's a good person and an impromptu party/bar crawl is what he needed. Good times.
Monday saw what was to be a disappointing promotion final for Reading. Myself, Ginger, the Librarian and HalfArseDean showed up at the pub to support. Vinnie, found himself in a seat at Wembley. We were hoping to spot him on the television but weren't so lucky. I guess it wasn't anyone's day, well except Swansea who will probably pick up a point at the Grove next season.
So a weekend of ups and downs, good friends and better drinks. One can't complain about that. Now off to the summer things...
....whatever that is.
You're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off of you. You'd be like heaven to touch. I want to hold you so much. At long last love has arrived. I thank God I'm alive. You're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off of you.
Pardon the way I stare. There is nothing else to compare. The sight of you leaves me weak. There are no words left to speak. But if you feel like I feel. Please let me know that it's real. You're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off of you.
Bahdah Bahdah Bah dah da da da, Bahdah Bahdah Baaaah!
IT'S AR-SE-LOBA la la la laaa lalaa
It's Arseloba la la la laaa lalaa
It's Arseloba, Arseloba FC
The GREATEST team, that no one has ever seen!
(just a frame of reference. let's get the shirts started)
~LeChat
23 May 2011
And now what?
So a fourth place for the Gunners. I could go on and on about things being unacceptable this season but why beat the horse.
The last EPL weekend at the pub saw most of the regulars there. However, the lack of a decent game being shown was disappointing. Myself, well I was more interested in some of the more important relegation battles.
The major networks decided that ManYoo game should be shown. I guess they were playing Blackpool but really? There were many more interesting match-ups this Sunday.
Saturday was a more positive day overall. Met up with SlainteLOSC and a few others to watch Lille solidify Ligue 1. It was a good day for him and I was pretty happy to spend it with the crew that showed up and supported.
Anyways, continuing on, the after-party on Sunday was quite fun. It was a fond farewell to some of the faithful who will not be with us next season. And, overall, it was nice to be surprised by the MancScum at the dollar store.
Now thinking about next week, there will be a fun CL final. I know where my non-Arsenal allegiances lie. Here's hoping for a good quality final and not a boring 9 men behind the ball affair that is just plain boring.
~LeChat
The last EPL weekend at the pub saw most of the regulars there. However, the lack of a decent game being shown was disappointing. Myself, well I was more interested in some of the more important relegation battles.
The major networks decided that ManYoo game should be shown. I guess they were playing Blackpool but really? There were many more interesting match-ups this Sunday.
Saturday was a more positive day overall. Met up with SlainteLOSC and a few others to watch Lille solidify Ligue 1. It was a good day for him and I was pretty happy to spend it with the crew that showed up and supported.
Anyways, continuing on, the after-party on Sunday was quite fun. It was a fond farewell to some of the faithful who will not be with us next season. And, overall, it was nice to be surprised by the MancScum at the dollar store.
Now thinking about next week, there will be a fun CL final. I know where my non-Arsenal allegiances lie. Here's hoping for a good quality final and not a boring 9 men behind the ball affair that is just plain boring.
~LeChat
14 March 2011
Barcelona Away (CL) ManYoo Away (FA)
I don't have much to say. Really nothing to say at all.
To be honest, I've given up on things to say. It's really indefensible.
Two competitions in one week. What is there to be said? Nothing at all.
My CD player has stopped working in my car. My laptop has a virus and won't let me restore. Japan got wiped out and there was not a large monster in sight!
Will something restore my faith?
Wait? What's this? JENS? You've got to be kidding.
I don't really care anymore.
~LeChat
To be honest, I've given up on things to say. It's really indefensible.
Two competitions in one week. What is there to be said? Nothing at all.
My CD player has stopped working in my car. My laptop has a virus and won't let me restore. Japan got wiped out and there was not a large monster in sight!
Will something restore my faith?
Wait? What's this? JENS? You've got to be kidding.
I don't really care anymore.
~LeChat
21 February 2011
Barcelona at Home (CL) and Leyton Orient Away (FA)
Well a bunch more of the expected.
Earlier in the week, someone had asked me why I hadn't done a write up after the Barca game. Simple reason, I'm only doing the one a week, on the traditional football Monday. I certainly could have but why change?
In all honesty, while Barca are well on form for the last couple of seasons; they are not the be all and end all of the world of football. At the end of the day, they play a game that is determined within 90 minutes, with only one certainty.
The Ball is round.
In the next decade, or maybe in the next couple of years, there will be a new squad on the block that is just clicking and everything is falling down in all the right places.
For every rise, there must be a fall.
I read an article, somewhere that I can't remember, talking about the Dutch total football system and how Ajax employed it for several years cementing their name in the annals of club football history.
So, now while Ajax brings a weepy tear of good time memories to their supporters/fans/wannabes, they're just memories of a once great team. This will too be the fate of Barca and all great teams. Much like the Roman Empire, some nice sculptures and a legacy but little more than a bunch of white marble lying in the sun.
In short, there is no reason to be celebrating until the job is done. And by done, I mean there is still a second half of a series to be played in Camp Nou. The odds stand against the Arsenal but we will see.
Now for the Leyton Orient, another I couldn't really be bothered with. I knew the outcome before I laid my head on the pillow the night before. I'm not a pessimist but a shocking realist, true unto myself.
A game that's supposed to be won, isn't. Simple and true. I have nothing else to say about it but it gives another replay and a bunch of tired millionaires. As a good friend in high school told me once about a girl who would yell at her lovers, "If you're not going to do it right, then why bother?" Truer words have never been spoken. Mind you the girl mentioned above was a bit of a loose one in all honesty.
As many of you may know, this weekend was my birthday as well. If you couldn't make out, than you missed a good time or so I've been told.
Saturday evening I met up with Sheffield and surprised guest appearances by ArsenalBob, The Bakerman and SlainteLOSC. Let's say it was supposed to be a bit of a quiet drink or two before heading up to ChelskiGirl's surprise party.
Little did I know, ArsenalBob had other plans. I think in total it was about 40 odd shots bought and shared amongst a little group that varied in size throughout the early evening hours.
Sheffield, Vinnie, Gingerette and myself decided it was time to go, so we headed up towards the surprise party. Rumour has it that ArsenalBob colourized someone's car and left the Bakerman with a rather large bill.
The surprise for ChelskiGirl went off well. She was late, as usual, but then again it was a surprise so you can never expect those things to go as planned.
Sunday night there was the big party. There are several amongst the pub regulars who share birthdays within the same week, myself included. The birthday extravaganza keeps getting bigger and bigger.
This year, we made sure to grab the society room. Someone asked how many did I expect, but as usual, I had no idea. It's hard to tell 30 odd may respond but you may end up with a lot more or a lot less. One of those things, human nature.
We had some good numbers. I was feeling a bit under the weather, so was not my usual self. To be honest, I was feeling well out of sorts. It appears the flu monster has taken another victim.
I also received some rather sad news on the weekend as well. The man, who I called Santa Claus, a good friend of mine, will be sipping his pints with St. Peter and Gabriel. He lived life to his fullest and was one of the more inspirational people I have ever known.
May the gods bless him and may his soul have a wonderful journey.
~LeChat
Earlier in the week, someone had asked me why I hadn't done a write up after the Barca game. Simple reason, I'm only doing the one a week, on the traditional football Monday. I certainly could have but why change?
In all honesty, while Barca are well on form for the last couple of seasons; they are not the be all and end all of the world of football. At the end of the day, they play a game that is determined within 90 minutes, with only one certainty.
The Ball is round.
In the next decade, or maybe in the next couple of years, there will be a new squad on the block that is just clicking and everything is falling down in all the right places.
For every rise, there must be a fall.
I read an article, somewhere that I can't remember, talking about the Dutch total football system and how Ajax employed it for several years cementing their name in the annals of club football history.
So, now while Ajax brings a weepy tear of good time memories to their supporters/fans/wannabes, they're just memories of a once great team. This will too be the fate of Barca and all great teams. Much like the Roman Empire, some nice sculptures and a legacy but little more than a bunch of white marble lying in the sun.
In short, there is no reason to be celebrating until the job is done. And by done, I mean there is still a second half of a series to be played in Camp Nou. The odds stand against the Arsenal but we will see.
Now for the Leyton Orient, another I couldn't really be bothered with. I knew the outcome before I laid my head on the pillow the night before. I'm not a pessimist but a shocking realist, true unto myself.
A game that's supposed to be won, isn't. Simple and true. I have nothing else to say about it but it gives another replay and a bunch of tired millionaires. As a good friend in high school told me once about a girl who would yell at her lovers, "If you're not going to do it right, then why bother?" Truer words have never been spoken. Mind you the girl mentioned above was a bit of a loose one in all honesty.
As many of you may know, this weekend was my birthday as well. If you couldn't make out, than you missed a good time or so I've been told.
Saturday evening I met up with Sheffield and surprised guest appearances by ArsenalBob, The Bakerman and SlainteLOSC. Let's say it was supposed to be a bit of a quiet drink or two before heading up to ChelskiGirl's surprise party.
Little did I know, ArsenalBob had other plans. I think in total it was about 40 odd shots bought and shared amongst a little group that varied in size throughout the early evening hours.
Sheffield, Vinnie, Gingerette and myself decided it was time to go, so we headed up towards the surprise party. Rumour has it that ArsenalBob colourized someone's car and left the Bakerman with a rather large bill.
The surprise for ChelskiGirl went off well. She was late, as usual, but then again it was a surprise so you can never expect those things to go as planned.
Sunday night there was the big party. There are several amongst the pub regulars who share birthdays within the same week, myself included. The birthday extravaganza keeps getting bigger and bigger.
This year, we made sure to grab the society room. Someone asked how many did I expect, but as usual, I had no idea. It's hard to tell 30 odd may respond but you may end up with a lot more or a lot less. One of those things, human nature.
We had some good numbers. I was feeling a bit under the weather, so was not my usual self. To be honest, I was feeling well out of sorts. It appears the flu monster has taken another victim.
I also received some rather sad news on the weekend as well. The man, who I called Santa Claus, a good friend of mine, will be sipping his pints with St. Peter and Gabriel. He lived life to his fullest and was one of the more inspirational people I have ever known.
May the gods bless him and may his soul have a wonderful journey.
~LeChat
31 January 2011
Ipswich Home (Carling) and Huddersfield Home (FA)
CUP CUP CUP
The Arsenal are still in some cups. It should be an exciting time, a real chance for some silverware after such a long drought and the continuous bridesmaid finishes for the last half decade.
I haven't and well couldn't be assed with going to the pub this week. To be honest, getting up for Huddersfield at 7:30 Eastern was not in the books. I should plan my Saturday evenings out a bit better.
Meanwhile (imagine funky comic book script)
The closing of the mid-season transfer has come and now gone, as it was today. There wasn't much in it for the Arsenal, no surprise there. However, it appears the Scousers may have got one over on Newcastle. I swear Newcastle must be giving a lesson on how to yo-yo between leagues at the moment. Not a good move, once again.
Seriously though, what do I know. I'm not the manager or the owner but from a layman's vantage point; It. No. Good.
Now let's get on with the proper stuff. This whole mid-season transfer market stuff really screws my head. Honestly, I think there should be something done about it. In my heart of hearts, would love to be done with the whole thing but I have a feeling that's not going to happen.
The month of February does give us a bit to look forward to though. There's the Barcelona Champions League tie and um my birthday. Yes, I know. Something good and something, well we will see the outcome of it.
This year the party will be moving back to the Pub, second floor, Society Room. We're going to do it on Sunday 20 Feb at 8 PM. (Monday is a holiday)
Remember it's not just me but also ChelskiGirl and the Toffee's birthday as well. Don't bring presents, just bring yourselves.
~LeChat
The Arsenal are still in some cups. It should be an exciting time, a real chance for some silverware after such a long drought and the continuous bridesmaid finishes for the last half decade.
I haven't and well couldn't be assed with going to the pub this week. To be honest, getting up for Huddersfield at 7:30 Eastern was not in the books. I should plan my Saturday evenings out a bit better.
Meanwhile (imagine funky comic book script)
The closing of the mid-season transfer has come and now gone, as it was today. There wasn't much in it for the Arsenal, no surprise there. However, it appears the Scousers may have got one over on Newcastle. I swear Newcastle must be giving a lesson on how to yo-yo between leagues at the moment. Not a good move, once again.
Seriously though, what do I know. I'm not the manager or the owner but from a layman's vantage point; It. No. Good.
Now let's get on with the proper stuff. This whole mid-season transfer market stuff really screws my head. Honestly, I think there should be something done about it. In my heart of hearts, would love to be done with the whole thing but I have a feeling that's not going to happen.
The month of February does give us a bit to look forward to though. There's the Barcelona Champions League tie and um my birthday. Yes, I know. Something good and something, well we will see the outcome of it.
This year the party will be moving back to the Pub, second floor, Society Room. We're going to do it on Sunday 20 Feb at 8 PM. (Monday is a holiday)
Remember it's not just me but also ChelskiGirl and the Toffee's birthday as well. Don't bring presents, just bring yourselves.
~LeChat
10 January 2011
ManCity at Home (EPL) Leeds at Home (FA)
January and the games come fast and furious, however the blog comes slow and almost on-time. If you haven't noticed, it's easier for me to just combine the mid-weeks in with the weekend games. Keeping up is a test of my mental capacity right now and to be honest I just don't feel like it. This is a work of love and inspiration so it comes when it comes.
Now check these apples. The mid-week affair left little to be desired. I know there were plenty of arguments from all sides. I believe ACMilan even called me to give me his two lire about the game.
So where was I? Oh ManShitty came and played like their namesake, well shitty. Shut the door, parked the bus, acted Italian, however you want to say it. Mind you, no disrespect to the Italians but they do play a good defensive game... almost too good.
And that about sums it up. It was a whole lot of nothing. Nil-NIL
The weekend looked more promising, but I should never get my hopes up. I do follow the Arsenal and have been following them for 20 odd years too long to be deceived by what looks like a skip through the park.
Leeds has always been a team that gives issues. Way back when they were in the olde Division 1, they were a team that caused problems. *cue grainy film clip*
I wasn't feeling up for going to the pub and took in the game on the laptop from my very warm bed. I must say, it was a good idea. Just closed my eyes and listened to it like an old radio show.
Saturday evening, Station played for my friend Matt's benefit. We were the last band so most people had left before we started playing. Oh wells, MiniScouse had shown up and we were talking about the Liverpool United cup tie.
There was a side bet made that if Liverpool didn't lose, I'd get to punch her in the face. Something I was looking forward to in more of a non-serious way. She was being very pessimistic and that is only reserved for Gooners and Brummies. Wouldn't you just be depressed if you were a Brummie?
By the way, let's talk about a proper surprise or well not really a surprise but Stevanage with a victory over Newcastle. I'm still pissed at Newcastle for getting rid of a decent bloke for whatever they put in his place. OH I know exactly what it is but really, was it worth it now? Talk about shit owners.
It reminds me of what was said about the African teams at WC2010 and well all previous World Cups. They have this manager, a good manager knows the team well, gets them through Africa Nations, gets them through Cup qualifiers and looks to give them a good run at the cup and maybe even the finals.
So what do they do when they get ready to go to the group stages. They replace him some Dutch twat that doesn't know a hippo from rhino and thinks that those drums sound really scary like in a movie with cannibals.
Seriously if the man had been there from the beginning, built the team, had dinner with the midfielders and their families, knows that the striker prefers Congolese rap music as opposed to Somali pirate songs, then I'd have no problem with it.
However, it never happens that way. Only a few managers are allowed to build, shape and mold a team. It's not surprising that teams look to have promise and fail, never to meet any kind of potential or consistency, even if that consistency is finishing mid-table year in and year out.
Whatever, fuck it.
~LeChat
(musical finish - Life's Lonely Road by Gregory Isaacs)
Now check these apples. The mid-week affair left little to be desired. I know there were plenty of arguments from all sides. I believe ACMilan even called me to give me his two lire about the game.
(musical interlude - Cloud 9 by Bob Marley followed with)
(Country Roads by Toots and The Maytals)
So where was I? Oh ManShitty came and played like their namesake, well shitty. Shut the door, parked the bus, acted Italian, however you want to say it. Mind you, no disrespect to the Italians but they do play a good defensive game... almost too good.
And that about sums it up. It was a whole lot of nothing. Nil-NIL
The weekend looked more promising, but I should never get my hopes up. I do follow the Arsenal and have been following them for 20 odd years too long to be deceived by what looks like a skip through the park.
Leeds has always been a team that gives issues. Way back when they were in the olde Division 1, they were a team that caused problems. *cue grainy film clip*
I wasn't feeling up for going to the pub and took in the game on the laptop from my very warm bed. I must say, it was a good idea. Just closed my eyes and listened to it like an old radio show.
Saturday evening, Station played for my friend Matt's benefit. We were the last band so most people had left before we started playing. Oh wells, MiniScouse had shown up and we were talking about the Liverpool United cup tie.
There was a side bet made that if Liverpool didn't lose, I'd get to punch her in the face. Something I was looking forward to in more of a non-serious way. She was being very pessimistic and that is only reserved for Gooners and Brummies. Wouldn't you just be depressed if you were a Brummie?
(musical interlude - Day On The Town by Madness)
By the way, let's talk about a proper surprise or well not really a surprise but Stevanage with a victory over Newcastle. I'm still pissed at Newcastle for getting rid of a decent bloke for whatever they put in his place. OH I know exactly what it is but really, was it worth it now? Talk about shit owners.
It reminds me of what was said about the African teams at WC2010 and well all previous World Cups. They have this manager, a good manager knows the team well, gets them through Africa Nations, gets them through Cup qualifiers and looks to give them a good run at the cup and maybe even the finals.
So what do they do when they get ready to go to the group stages. They replace him some Dutch twat that doesn't know a hippo from rhino and thinks that those drums sound really scary like in a movie with cannibals.
Seriously if the man had been there from the beginning, built the team, had dinner with the midfielders and their families, knows that the striker prefers Congolese rap music as opposed to Somali pirate songs, then I'd have no problem with it.
However, it never happens that way. Only a few managers are allowed to build, shape and mold a team. It's not surprising that teams look to have promise and fail, never to meet any kind of potential or consistency, even if that consistency is finishing mid-table year in and year out.
Whatever, fuck it.
~LeChat
(musical finish - Life's Lonely Road by Gregory Isaacs)
14 December 2010
United Away and the forgotten CL
Yes, that's right. I forgot the Champions League-midweek the week before. It didn't really matter much anyways. There wasn't much to say about it. It was just another game that took way too long to finish. So let's just put that to rest and on to more recent things.
I dropped down the pub on Saturday for the Liverpool match at the behest of ScouseDrummer. I wasn't going to, just because I was watching the Habs the night before lose to Detroit. So I eyed up the weekend as not to have to pay attention to any sport, for that matter.
It was also the first time I seen ManCity himself after the Station show. He survived and I think made an impression on the local punk crowd that frequents the bar we play at on occasion. It was nice of him to show up and support.
Anyways, Saturday I sat along the back bench with ScouseDrummer and family, hoping for a Newcastle loss, just because they had fired Chris Hughton, for doing a respectable job. I hate to say I would rather see them dive into the relegation zone but they did look sharp against Liverpool.
However, keeping in mind, they were still running under the Hughton formula. The genius he is, Pardew hasn't been able to instill his special brand of stupidity. HEY didn't he manage WestHam before the slippage?
Back to proper football though, not that Newcastle - Scouse wasn't proper but it wasn't ManScum - Arsenal. I think the week/weekend prior I kept getting asked my opinion on the thing. In my heart of hearts I knew what the result would be but I just kept saying, "we will see, we will see."
I'm not saying my beloved club was going to lose, but I can at least be honest about football. This season, and as pointed out in the Guardian, the last 7 meetings between the Arsenal and ManScum or Chelski; the Arsenal has failed to come away with 3 points.
That's called reality. With the tools in the shed, it is possible, but there's this consistency that seems to be lacking, an end product. Reminds me of my project for Senior seminar at University. I did enough, with the right tools to come away with something that was more than passable, however it still remains an unfinished body of work.
It wasn't a training ground project, as Evra (that gape hole) would have you think, but it wasn't the quality finished project which was envisioned. That's the reality when we look at Ashburton Grove for the moment.
The ball can be stroked along the carpet in the most smooth and silky way but when the end product is not being produced, it's only nice. Not great, not wonderful, not enough to really not worry about being 2-nil up.
LilWestCoastGooner had sent me a few messages about my depressive ways at looking at the club recently. It's not really depressive but I've seen this spell before; I've lived through it, around the time I first started supporting. It came again a few years after Graham took over. It started to hit right before the "Invincibles" season. It just exists.
United has always been a hard club to deal with in the Wenger/Fergie era. I don't see much changing, as they are men cut from the same cloth, managing teams with like dispositions when it comes to building, promoting instead of buying and replacing like a sidewalk whore does with her diaphragms.
Give me 3 more weekends of Arsenal - ManScum! I'll watch it over and over.
~LeChat
I dropped down the pub on Saturday for the Liverpool match at the behest of ScouseDrummer. I wasn't going to, just because I was watching the Habs the night before lose to Detroit. So I eyed up the weekend as not to have to pay attention to any sport, for that matter.
It was also the first time I seen ManCity himself after the Station show. He survived and I think made an impression on the local punk crowd that frequents the bar we play at on occasion. It was nice of him to show up and support.
Anyways, Saturday I sat along the back bench with ScouseDrummer and family, hoping for a Newcastle loss, just because they had fired Chris Hughton, for doing a respectable job. I hate to say I would rather see them dive into the relegation zone but they did look sharp against Liverpool.
However, keeping in mind, they were still running under the Hughton formula. The genius he is, Pardew hasn't been able to instill his special brand of stupidity. HEY didn't he manage WestHam before the slippage?
In the 2006–07 season Pardew was criticised after seeing West Ham through their worst run of defeats in over 70 years which included an exit from the UEFA Cup to Palermo in the very first round[10] and a League Cup defeat to Chesterfield. [11]Thank you Wikipedia. I only use this to prove a point. Honestly, Hughton didn't deserve to be treated like that. So in short, unlucky Hughton and an unlucky Liverpool.
Back to proper football though, not that Newcastle - Scouse wasn't proper but it wasn't ManScum - Arsenal. I think the week/weekend prior I kept getting asked my opinion on the thing. In my heart of hearts I knew what the result would be but I just kept saying, "we will see, we will see."
I'm not saying my beloved club was going to lose, but I can at least be honest about football. This season, and as pointed out in the Guardian, the last 7 meetings between the Arsenal and ManScum or Chelski; the Arsenal has failed to come away with 3 points.
That's called reality. With the tools in the shed, it is possible, but there's this consistency that seems to be lacking, an end product. Reminds me of my project for Senior seminar at University. I did enough, with the right tools to come away with something that was more than passable, however it still remains an unfinished body of work.
It wasn't a training ground project, as Evra (that gape hole) would have you think, but it wasn't the quality finished project which was envisioned. That's the reality when we look at Ashburton Grove for the moment.
The ball can be stroked along the carpet in the most smooth and silky way but when the end product is not being produced, it's only nice. Not great, not wonderful, not enough to really not worry about being 2-nil up.
LilWestCoastGooner had sent me a few messages about my depressive ways at looking at the club recently. It's not really depressive but I've seen this spell before; I've lived through it, around the time I first started supporting. It came again a few years after Graham took over. It started to hit right before the "Invincibles" season. It just exists.
United has always been a hard club to deal with in the Wenger/Fergie era. I don't see much changing, as they are men cut from the same cloth, managing teams with like dispositions when it comes to building, promoting instead of buying and replacing like a sidewalk whore does with her diaphragms.
Give me 3 more weekends of Arsenal - ManScum! I'll watch it over and over.
~LeChat
25 November 2010
Sporting Braga Away (CL) - Thanksgiving Issue
...
I wasn't going to write anything but I figured that would be unfair, not only to myself but to the greater cosmos. I mean it's one thing for me to put in half ass performance, but I'm not getting paid for it. This is more of an intellectual exercise than anything else.
Dissatisfaction seems to be an appropriate word. The sky is not really blue. The sea is polluted by a floating island of garbage. Putin is asking for help to save the tigers. The poor tigers, over hunted and decimated.
Babies are being born. The lights still come on after the storm. The roads are quite nice. Scientist are curing the incurable.
Life goes on; Win, Loss, or Draw.
In the US it is Thanksgiving evening. A day/night to be thankful for the bounty that has been given to us. However, in the US there is also an overwhelming degree of self-entitlement in the form of stupidity and ignorance as well.
I'm sure it's happening in other places, but I can only speak of things I deal with on a daily basis. So in essence, thankful for what has been given, obtained and shared; annoyed by what stands in the way of progress and human empathy.
Win...Loss...Draw
~LeChat
I wasn't going to write anything but I figured that would be unfair, not only to myself but to the greater cosmos. I mean it's one thing for me to put in half ass performance, but I'm not getting paid for it. This is more of an intellectual exercise than anything else.
Dissatisfaction seems to be an appropriate word. The sky is not really blue. The sea is polluted by a floating island of garbage. Putin is asking for help to save the tigers. The poor tigers, over hunted and decimated.
Babies are being born. The lights still come on after the storm. The roads are quite nice. Scientist are curing the incurable.
Life goes on; Win, Loss, or Draw.
In the US it is Thanksgiving evening. A day/night to be thankful for the bounty that has been given to us. However, in the US there is also an overwhelming degree of self-entitlement in the form of stupidity and ignorance as well.
I'm sure it's happening in other places, but I can only speak of things I deal with on a daily basis. So in essence, thankful for what has been given, obtained and shared; annoyed by what stands in the way of progress and human empathy.
Win...Loss...Draw
~LeChat
08 November 2010
Shaktar (CL) midweek and Newcastle at Home
What a pitiful display last week was. I am not even going to get into it. Midweek was the same old story. I was at work, unable to phone Wenger and get the right team on the pitch. Only if I truly had that power, however I don't think it would matter either way.
So let's flog the dead horse and call her November.
Saturday, I'll be honest. I completely checked out of the world. I had awoken about 5 AM to take my relatives to the airport. Must be nice to be retired and travel down to the Outer Banks or wherever, whenever you desire. I think they're all going on a cruise sometime soon as well.
Well, in order to keep my insanity, I just checked out. A few rounds of Football Manager on the good old computer, a big mug of Theraflu to make sure I wasn't coming down with something and some mid-day napping. Ah, how I love my siestas.
It became apparent on Sunday, that I missed some good football from the previous day. As I have said, it doesn't really matter. It's November!
Sunday was rather crisp in the morning with the overarching gloom hanging in the air. For some reason, I decided I would have a bit of hope this morning. I should start at the beginning when I woke up and forgot to switch my clock back. That should have been the first omen.
Then my drive down, while uneventful, was an exercise in patience. I really wonder where people learn how to drive. I mean, I by far am not the most rules aligned driver in the world but at least, or so I feel, I have an iota of common sense when behind the wheel.
Who knows maybe I don't but I do remember watching a driving instruction video with I believe Senna or someone of note about controlling your car. It had to do with imagining it as an extension of your body and such; that you should never make a sharp manoeuvre that it all should be a natural flow, from acceleration to braking to taking a curve. Makes sense to me, so why all the panicking? Why the slamming of brakes on the middle of an empty highway? WHY and why in hell all the distractions in the cockpit?
It is sort of like life. I know the footballers themselves go through a massive amount of distractions in their daily lives. Many of the distractions keep them from doing their jobs. And really that's what football is for them, a job. A job, that they may be passionate about, excessively trained for, but at the end of the day it's a job.
I know myself, I hate when people judge the quality of my job and never had worked a day in their life in my job. It's one thing if you have at least a notion of what I go through on a daily basis but most people don't and that's a plain fact.
So here we sit, November. The pear shaped queen of the Arsenal calendar. I can't fathom an idea of what is going on with the boys. I certainly wish I could. I certainly wish I had a direct line to Arsene and Rice.
I might bitch and moan about the lack of this or that. How complacency has reared it's ugly head early in the season. How the desire for a real cup should exceed all but at the end of the day I remain steadfast and loyal to my oddly shaped queen, cause she makes the best pumpkin pies.
I had planned on going into my loyalty rant. I really wanted to blast the splitters again but that is as futile as expecting a win at home during the first week in November or something else.. blah blah blah.
It's unnecessary and over done. There is a certain lack of loyalty amongst a certain group or groups of so called "soccer fans." AND Yes I did use that exact term for that exact reason. They're not football supporters. I don't believe the grand lot of them would shed blood for their club or take abuse when losing to a newly promoted yo yo club.
They can go fuck themselves just like the bad drivers on a Sunday morning. Don't expect anything from me; you've dug your own hole, go lay down in it.
~LeChat
So let's flog the dead horse and call her November.
Saturday, I'll be honest. I completely checked out of the world. I had awoken about 5 AM to take my relatives to the airport. Must be nice to be retired and travel down to the Outer Banks or wherever, whenever you desire. I think they're all going on a cruise sometime soon as well.
Well, in order to keep my insanity, I just checked out. A few rounds of Football Manager on the good old computer, a big mug of Theraflu to make sure I wasn't coming down with something and some mid-day napping. Ah, how I love my siestas.
It became apparent on Sunday, that I missed some good football from the previous day. As I have said, it doesn't really matter. It's November!
Sunday was rather crisp in the morning with the overarching gloom hanging in the air. For some reason, I decided I would have a bit of hope this morning. I should start at the beginning when I woke up and forgot to switch my clock back. That should have been the first omen.
Then my drive down, while uneventful, was an exercise in patience. I really wonder where people learn how to drive. I mean, I by far am not the most rules aligned driver in the world but at least, or so I feel, I have an iota of common sense when behind the wheel.
Who knows maybe I don't but I do remember watching a driving instruction video with I believe Senna or someone of note about controlling your car. It had to do with imagining it as an extension of your body and such; that you should never make a sharp manoeuvre that it all should be a natural flow, from acceleration to braking to taking a curve. Makes sense to me, so why all the panicking? Why the slamming of brakes on the middle of an empty highway? WHY and why in hell all the distractions in the cockpit?
It is sort of like life. I know the footballers themselves go through a massive amount of distractions in their daily lives. Many of the distractions keep them from doing their jobs. And really that's what football is for them, a job. A job, that they may be passionate about, excessively trained for, but at the end of the day it's a job.
I know myself, I hate when people judge the quality of my job and never had worked a day in their life in my job. It's one thing if you have at least a notion of what I go through on a daily basis but most people don't and that's a plain fact.
So here we sit, November. The pear shaped queen of the Arsenal calendar. I can't fathom an idea of what is going on with the boys. I certainly wish I could. I certainly wish I had a direct line to Arsene and Rice.
I might bitch and moan about the lack of this or that. How complacency has reared it's ugly head early in the season. How the desire for a real cup should exceed all but at the end of the day I remain steadfast and loyal to my oddly shaped queen, cause she makes the best pumpkin pies.
I had planned on going into my loyalty rant. I really wanted to blast the splitters again but that is as futile as expecting a win at home during the first week in November or something else.. blah blah blah.
It's unnecessary and over done. There is a certain lack of loyalty amongst a certain group or groups of so called "soccer fans." AND Yes I did use that exact term for that exact reason. They're not football supporters. I don't believe the grand lot of them would shed blood for their club or take abuse when losing to a newly promoted yo yo club.
They can go fuck themselves just like the bad drivers on a Sunday morning. Don't expect anything from me; you've dug your own hole, go lay down in it.
~LeChat
20 October 2010
Shakhtar Donetsk at HOME (CL)
A bit of group H action happening yesterday as the beloved Arsenal delivered the quality that they are capable of. Mind you, I haven't even looked at the game yet. I don't really see the point. I guess I could peruse the highlights but in all honesty, group fixtures really just seem pointless sometimes.
I know that's unfair statement to make, because in some ways it does matter. It matters to the teams that on paper may not look like they have any reason for being where they are. They get to prove themselves. They get to show us their mettle so to speak.
The reality of it is that while they may drag a competition out for a long, long time, it has become a necessary evil. The big boys can't just flash around the money and top named stars. They have to prove it where it counts... on the pitch.
Fairness, equality, brotherhood? Oh that all sounds too familiar doesn't it. Simply put; life is not fair, all are not created equal and brotherhood is a two way street that many simply won't cross.
It's pitiful that lofty principles and ideals are thrown to the wayside. However, it can all be sorted out with these lengthy group stages. I think there need to be more group stages, even though, like I said, they do become tedious.
Yes, that's right I am speaking in complete circles.
Could you imagine though. You arrive at the DMV/MVA and instead of waiting in line because you showed up 2 minutes after the 20 other people in line. You had a group stage to determine your final place in line. I mean it would take just as long but I don't know what kind of competition you could have at the MVA. Maybe based on how big of a fine you had to pay versus some other factor divided by your known emotional quotient multiplied by the IQ of the supervisor on duty.
I think you could get quite a few upsets out of that. OH the guy with the lost tags just dropped to 14th in line, losing to the grandma who hasn't had insurance for the 20 years. What a dramatic turn around we have here. Just goes to show, grandma sincerity trumps douchebags self-entitlement every day. She's worked hard at it.
Oh by the way, YAY EDUARDO! Nice goal and welcome back!
(I took a peek at the goals.)
Well here's hoping for a better world... tomorrow. Now back to my wine.
~LeChat
I know that's unfair statement to make, because in some ways it does matter. It matters to the teams that on paper may not look like they have any reason for being where they are. They get to prove themselves. They get to show us their mettle so to speak.
The reality of it is that while they may drag a competition out for a long, long time, it has become a necessary evil. The big boys can't just flash around the money and top named stars. They have to prove it where it counts... on the pitch.
Fairness, equality, brotherhood? Oh that all sounds too familiar doesn't it. Simply put; life is not fair, all are not created equal and brotherhood is a two way street that many simply won't cross.
It's pitiful that lofty principles and ideals are thrown to the wayside. However, it can all be sorted out with these lengthy group stages. I think there need to be more group stages, even though, like I said, they do become tedious.
Yes, that's right I am speaking in complete circles.
Could you imagine though. You arrive at the DMV/MVA and instead of waiting in line because you showed up 2 minutes after the 20 other people in line. You had a group stage to determine your final place in line. I mean it would take just as long but I don't know what kind of competition you could have at the MVA. Maybe based on how big of a fine you had to pay versus some other factor divided by your known emotional quotient multiplied by the IQ of the supervisor on duty.
I think you could get quite a few upsets out of that. OH the guy with the lost tags just dropped to 14th in line, losing to the grandma who hasn't had insurance for the 20 years. What a dramatic turn around we have here. Just goes to show, grandma sincerity trumps douchebags self-entitlement every day. She's worked hard at it.
Oh by the way, YAY EDUARDO! Nice goal and welcome back!
(I took a peek at the goals.)
Well here's hoping for a better world... tomorrow. Now back to my wine.
~LeChat
29 September 2010
Partizan Belgrade Away (CL)
Lackluster and I really don't care. I mean that's what it's become. I just really don't care. I didn't rush home to take a look at the score... because I really just don't care anymore.
How in the world would you throw your soul behind our keepers?
Don't answer that?
I really don't care.
Life's funny like that, things just keep going no matter what. To tell you the truth, nothing really surprises me anymore. Well I mean I can be surprised when things go right but honestly nothing really ever goes perfect.
So you go into the game and you got 10 men, all of the sudden. You're away and what happens? OH yah, you turn it around to a 3-1 victory. However, playing a relegation bound team at your home ground you bottle like a bunch of... I'll just leave it at that.
Coincidentally, I just want to commend Chelski on it's open armed approach at accommodating OM at Stanford Bridge. It just goes to show money don't buy you class. It barely buys you trophies.
On the other hand, Tottenham are shit!
Yes.. welcome to my hate-filled Wednesday!
~LeChat
How in the world would you throw your soul behind our keepers?
Don't answer that?
I really don't care.
Life's funny like that, things just keep going no matter what. To tell you the truth, nothing really surprises me anymore. Well I mean I can be surprised when things go right but honestly nothing really ever goes perfect.
So you go into the game and you got 10 men, all of the sudden. You're away and what happens? OH yah, you turn it around to a 3-1 victory. However, playing a relegation bound team at your home ground you bottle like a bunch of... I'll just leave it at that.
Coincidentally, I just want to commend Chelski on it's open armed approach at accommodating OM at Stanford Bridge. It just goes to show money don't buy you class. It barely buys you trophies.
On the other hand, Tottenham are shit!
Yes.. welcome to my hate-filled Wednesday!
~LeChat
16 September 2010
Sporting Braga at home - CL
Funny thing about Champions league ties; you realize that there are these other leagues out there vying for something big. I don't mean the likes of Spain, France, Germany or even the Dutch. I am talking about the likes of Portugal and Russia and Scotland.
I don't mean to discount these leagues but you tend to forget that they exist at times. It's like you know there are these little bugs that eat all kinds of deterious matter but you forget they exist until they become a problem.
Somehow these little bugs will grow and grow in number. Then you have this clump of strange bugs eating at whatever these bugs eat. They start to slowly become a problem and then you go and get the exterminator.
There are times when the exterminator works fast, making short work of the bugs clumping around the object of their feast. Eventually these little bugs start to die off, leaving just a few carcass of what was once a great clump of bugs.
These bugs, maybe a few will survive and try to raise their heads. Maybe they say to themselves, "Remember the good old days. We championed over that one foot square piece of carpet. Do you remember?"
The exterminator, with all his tools continues to squirt and squirt until the bug resurgence is nothing but a stained memory on the carpet.
~LeChat
I don't mean to discount these leagues but you tend to forget that they exist at times. It's like you know there are these little bugs that eat all kinds of deterious matter but you forget they exist until they become a problem.
Somehow these little bugs will grow and grow in number. Then you have this clump of strange bugs eating at whatever these bugs eat. They start to slowly become a problem and then you go and get the exterminator.
There are times when the exterminator works fast, making short work of the bugs clumping around the object of their feast. Eventually these little bugs start to die off, leaving just a few carcass of what was once a great clump of bugs.
These bugs, maybe a few will survive and try to raise their heads. Maybe they say to themselves, "Remember the good old days. We championed over that one foot square piece of carpet. Do you remember?"
The exterminator, with all his tools continues to squirt and squirt until the bug resurgence is nothing but a stained memory on the carpet.
~LeChat
07 April 2010
Barca Away (CL)
I sold my team for 2 packs of crips and a pint of porter. While I sat in my semi-air conditioned office building, shuffling papers for the good of those who can't afford an attorney but need representation. FOUR THOUSAND AND NINE MILES away, mas o menos, my beloved club dropped the ball against my other loved but not as much club.
In a perfect world, it would have been a final. I would have loved another Arseloba final. But no. 90 degree weather NO! Building management ceasing to realise the outside temperature is not suppose to equal the inside temperature NO!
So, I remember at one point in time, leaving my desk, absentmindedly walking out into the hall to check my phone for scores and messages, and getting this distinct sinking feeling.
It was as if I heard thousands of souls crying out in pain and then silence.
It was no moon.
The little green light danced at the top of my mobile. My comrade, A Certain Scouser, had been sending me various texts on the colour of Theo's boots and the statistics of Barca versus Arsenal completed passes. That was all I needed to know that it had all gone pear shape with no room for recovery.
I had to wait for my usual mid-week vehicle of ArsenalTV to take a good look at the highlights this morning. I dared not read an actual article of the foretold disaster that laid, well now behind me. My only real surprise about it, is the Arsenal scored first off of a really bad ball, all the way around.
I made mention to the actual tie on the Pub blog, found here. I honestly can't really think of much to say about it all. We got beat. We got beat well. We got beat honest.
ChelskiGirl sent me some condolences, to which I could only reply with indifference. I didn't expect much to happen. A miracle was needed. ACMilan also thought I'd be a bit more upset. I actually think it wrinkled him a bit that I wasn't.
I don't know. I have seen many highs and many lows to not really care when the expected result is concluded and... well... expected. The score line was not even a surprise. Let's just say, all of the goals were even underwhelming.
By the way, GET US OUT OF FUCKING SCUM WHITE!
I will not stand for this shit anymore. Seriously!
OK good news, now that I've let that out, mentioning clubs that play in white who are usually facist dictator loving narcissist. My Real loving cousin finally made it back from the Middle East. There is a nice video of him and his wing returning.
Hopefully I can get him out to some Crystal Palace games and World Cup ties this summer. We will see. We will see.
Oh and headline of the week, courtesy of the Guardian.
MANCHESTER UNITED CRASH OUT OF EUROPE
I swore it said crashed in Munich before. Oh wells, not going to grasp at too many straws to fit my own agenda.
And a little note to ACMilan, I will dig out the post where you said it was going to be an all English final. I will throw it in your face and say to you, I told you it was not going to happen.
Never doubt the great predictor! I got nine lives and a sixth sense.
~LeChat
In a perfect world, it would have been a final. I would have loved another Arseloba final. But no. 90 degree weather NO! Building management ceasing to realise the outside temperature is not suppose to equal the inside temperature NO!
So, I remember at one point in time, leaving my desk, absentmindedly walking out into the hall to check my phone for scores and messages, and getting this distinct sinking feeling.
It was as if I heard thousands of souls crying out in pain and then silence.
It was no moon.
The little green light danced at the top of my mobile. My comrade, A Certain Scouser, had been sending me various texts on the colour of Theo's boots and the statistics of Barca versus Arsenal completed passes. That was all I needed to know that it had all gone pear shape with no room for recovery.
I had to wait for my usual mid-week vehicle of ArsenalTV to take a good look at the highlights this morning. I dared not read an actual article of the foretold disaster that laid, well now behind me. My only real surprise about it, is the Arsenal scored first off of a really bad ball, all the way around.
I made mention to the actual tie on the Pub blog, found here. I honestly can't really think of much to say about it all. We got beat. We got beat well. We got beat honest.
ChelskiGirl sent me some condolences, to which I could only reply with indifference. I didn't expect much to happen. A miracle was needed. ACMilan also thought I'd be a bit more upset. I actually think it wrinkled him a bit that I wasn't.
I don't know. I have seen many highs and many lows to not really care when the expected result is concluded and... well... expected. The score line was not even a surprise. Let's just say, all of the goals were even underwhelming.
By the way, GET US OUT OF FUCKING SCUM WHITE!
I will not stand for this shit anymore. Seriously!
WE ARE THE FUCKING ARSENAL!
OK good news, now that I've let that out, mentioning clubs that play in white who are usually facist dictator loving narcissist. My Real loving cousin finally made it back from the Middle East. There is a nice video of him and his wing returning.
Hopefully I can get him out to some Crystal Palace games and World Cup ties this summer. We will see. We will see.
Oh and headline of the week, courtesy of the Guardian.
MANCHESTER UNITED CRASH OUT OF EUROPE
I swore it said crashed in Munich before. Oh wells, not going to grasp at too many straws to fit my own agenda.
And a little note to ACMilan, I will dig out the post where you said it was going to be an all English final. I will throw it in your face and say to you, I told you it was not going to happen.
Never doubt the great predictor! I got nine lives and a sixth sense.
~LeChat
05 April 2010
Wolves at Home
Another holiday weekend passes with much ado about nothing. My Friday was spent stumbling around the point, trying to avoid eating meat and not avoid the finer beverages that life has to offer.
As I stated in the beginning, much ado about nothing. Sushi had become the order of the day and it was a bit underwhelming to say the least. However, the 22 ounce Kirin Lager did make things go down a little better.
I stumbled my way through the windy streets of the lower point and into the pub. It was good fortune, as I had tried to raise MiniMourinho on the phone but he was a bit under the weather.
There on the television, in it's full glory, was the MancScum and Bayern Champions League tie. While some people get upset at knowing the result prior to the finish of the game. I am one who spent most of his early days as a supporter watching replays on Wednesday afternoons when I got home from school.
In my opinion, knowing the result only gives you part of the story. It doesn't give you the full pitch battles that may have happened from end to end. The fluke that just so happened to get bobbled or just how that sprain/broken metatarsal occurred. I am one who enjoys the nuance of a good match.
Let's just say, a few rum and cokes later, I was feeling quite good and quite impressed with what Bayern had shown on the pitch. They look dangerous.
My Friday ended with a short walk up to ChelskiGirl's restaurant for a nice grilled salmon. I guess there is something good about Good Friday after all. It's funny that I follow the tradition in the spiritual sense. It's sort of like making sure I put my left shoe on first, doesn't really have anything to do with anything, just kind of a traditional.
SATURDAY
A big day for a good tie. The two thorns in my side, Chelski and MancScum were facing off. A draw was what I prayed for, as it kept both of them within striking distance and would mean that the Arsenal had a decent chance for top of the league.
As I stated and will state once again, this weekend was much ado about nothing. Seriously, while it was probably the best game I've seen from the two sides in recent week, it ruined what chance of a league title that could be seen.
At the final whistle, I felt like all the wind had been knocked out of me. I started pointing fingers and blaming the MancScum for being mediocre on a day when they needed to be slightly better. In my heart of hearts, I know it came down to those one or two games where the Arsenal drew instead of finishing.
Finishing, I do not believe I understand that word.
The pub had been chock full of Chelski and MancScum. There were quite a few sad faces at the end of it all. MiniMourinho decided to do another stand on the bar for a rousing course of 10 Men went to Mow.
Our small contingent of Arsenal, with the help of Sheffield and Irish decided to start singing about all sorts of things. Some of which had nothing to do with the actual games at hand.
By the time the Arsenal match came on, I was just about hoarse. It was a lackluster match from end to end. The keeper for Wolves played a nice game. I can say that and the last minute finish, well... I don't know what to say but I think the Arsenal was very lucky and I do not mind that chant one bit.
I started to watch the ManShitty match but once it was about 4-nil decided it was best for me to end the day. I mentioned to ManCity himself that they were going to score six and so it was. I think with World Cup coming up, my scoring prediction powers are re-emerging.
SUNDAY
I did not even think about football for once. Can you believe it?
Yah I lie, I just did not go out and watch any. I had more fun arguing with my church going relatives about books of the bible and general fallacies of religion as a whole. Easter is fun!
Miscellany
I am to start doing some guest writing on the Pub blog. Be on the lookout for that. It has to be of a slightly less biting style than this one, or so I've been asked. Now I need to just get myself into gear and do it.
Crystal Palace Baltimore season opener is on April 16 at UMBC. They are in a new league and it was always great fun for a long hot boring summer. This year they are to give the 35ers their own little section with beer garden included. Schedule!
It would be nice to see some of you Pub hooligans, er... I mean supporters out there lending your voice.
~LeChat
As I stated in the beginning, much ado about nothing. Sushi had become the order of the day and it was a bit underwhelming to say the least. However, the 22 ounce Kirin Lager did make things go down a little better.
I stumbled my way through the windy streets of the lower point and into the pub. It was good fortune, as I had tried to raise MiniMourinho on the phone but he was a bit under the weather.
There on the television, in it's full glory, was the MancScum and Bayern Champions League tie. While some people get upset at knowing the result prior to the finish of the game. I am one who spent most of his early days as a supporter watching replays on Wednesday afternoons when I got home from school.
In my opinion, knowing the result only gives you part of the story. It doesn't give you the full pitch battles that may have happened from end to end. The fluke that just so happened to get bobbled or just how that sprain/broken metatarsal occurred. I am one who enjoys the nuance of a good match.
Let's just say, a few rum and cokes later, I was feeling quite good and quite impressed with what Bayern had shown on the pitch. They look dangerous.
My Friday ended with a short walk up to ChelskiGirl's restaurant for a nice grilled salmon. I guess there is something good about Good Friday after all. It's funny that I follow the tradition in the spiritual sense. It's sort of like making sure I put my left shoe on first, doesn't really have anything to do with anything, just kind of a traditional.
SATURDAY
A big day for a good tie. The two thorns in my side, Chelski and MancScum were facing off. A draw was what I prayed for, as it kept both of them within striking distance and would mean that the Arsenal had a decent chance for top of the league.
As I stated and will state once again, this weekend was much ado about nothing. Seriously, while it was probably the best game I've seen from the two sides in recent week, it ruined what chance of a league title that could be seen.
At the final whistle, I felt like all the wind had been knocked out of me. I started pointing fingers and blaming the MancScum for being mediocre on a day when they needed to be slightly better. In my heart of hearts, I know it came down to those one or two games where the Arsenal drew instead of finishing.
Finishing, I do not believe I understand that word.
The pub had been chock full of Chelski and MancScum. There were quite a few sad faces at the end of it all. MiniMourinho decided to do another stand on the bar for a rousing course of 10 Men went to Mow.
Our small contingent of Arsenal, with the help of Sheffield and Irish decided to start singing about all sorts of things. Some of which had nothing to do with the actual games at hand.
By the time the Arsenal match came on, I was just about hoarse. It was a lackluster match from end to end. The keeper for Wolves played a nice game. I can say that and the last minute finish, well... I don't know what to say but I think the Arsenal was very lucky and I do not mind that chant one bit.
I started to watch the ManShitty match but once it was about 4-nil decided it was best for me to end the day. I mentioned to ManCity himself that they were going to score six and so it was. I think with World Cup coming up, my scoring prediction powers are re-emerging.
SUNDAY
I did not even think about football for once. Can you believe it?
Yah I lie, I just did not go out and watch any. I had more fun arguing with my church going relatives about books of the bible and general fallacies of religion as a whole. Easter is fun!
Miscellany
I am to start doing some guest writing on the Pub blog. Be on the lookout for that. It has to be of a slightly less biting style than this one, or so I've been asked. Now I need to just get myself into gear and do it.
Crystal Palace Baltimore season opener is on April 16 at UMBC. They are in a new league and it was always great fun for a long hot boring summer. This year they are to give the 35ers their own little section with beer garden included. Schedule!
It would be nice to see some of you Pub hooligans, er... I mean supporters out there lending your voice.
~LeChat
01 April 2010
Barcelona Home (CL)
There is not much to say. I do not even care to watch the highlights. I spent my time dealing with random mess at work instead of being able to watch the game. While I understand it was not a lackluster match; it was described as a grade school team playing against the World XI.
The result, well, it was a result, justified or not. Too little too late would probably be a more accurate phrasing. Depressing, not really but it is a rather sharp deficit to overcome away from home.
Injuries... meh, to be expected. I do not want to say the season is over but so far it is not looking good. The only hope is this weekend a giant meteor comes down.. no scratch that.. A giant robot squad from outer space comes down and makes MancScum and Chelski play against them for the fate of real estate on the moon.
As you know, there is prize real estate on the moon. Rumour has it that they just installed a new bouncy castle and log flume.
So what good came out of the night? I ended up seeing Iron Cross do a little undercover session at a yet to be named warehouse. GrumpyGooner was in full form as were the rest of his mates. They are doing a trip over to Berlin and some other places I am sure. This was their dress rehearsal, so to speak, and it was good.
There hasn't been much going on. A tight race for the top 3 spots. A tight race for the UEFA spot and a small battle to avoid the drop. My hope is that this weekend brings along something pleasurable to comment on.
~LeChat
The result, well, it was a result, justified or not. Too little too late would probably be a more accurate phrasing. Depressing, not really but it is a rather sharp deficit to overcome away from home.
Injuries... meh, to be expected. I do not want to say the season is over but so far it is not looking good. The only hope is this weekend a giant meteor comes down.. no scratch that.. A giant robot squad from outer space comes down and makes MancScum and Chelski play against them for the fate of real estate on the moon.
As you know, there is prize real estate on the moon. Rumour has it that they just installed a new bouncy castle and log flume.
So what good came out of the night? I ended up seeing Iron Cross do a little undercover session at a yet to be named warehouse. GrumpyGooner was in full form as were the rest of his mates. They are doing a trip over to Berlin and some other places I am sure. This was their dress rehearsal, so to speak, and it was good.
There hasn't been much going on. A tight race for the top 3 spots. A tight race for the UEFA spot and a small battle to avoid the drop. My hope is that this weekend brings along something pleasurable to comment on.
~LeChat
15 March 2010
Porto (CL) and Hull Away
Midweek?
Yah, who cares. A solid trouncing of that big Portuguese club. Did you expect anything less? What was I doing, absolutely nothing. I was working, it was a mid-week match and that's all I ever do when there is a mid-week match, unless I have the glorious luck to be allowed a day off for whatever dead person who probably accomplished a lot more in theirs than I did in my 30 odd years of life.
So in short, I was too in shock to post because Beeker himself scored a hat trick. ArseBob even texted me the result and I was still in disbelief. Yes, my pink boot wearing muppet looking friend scored a hat trick. So I decided to wait and see what would happen this weekend.
Saturday
Life, which this blog is really about, is similar to football. So like football, the game is 90 minutes and the ball is round... those are the only two things that are certain; more or less death and taxes.
The pub, this morning, smelled of wet dog due to it not only being rainy but a large, and by large I mean world cup final amount large, number of St. Patrick's Festivities 5k runners decided to occupy my beloved little space in the world.
However, being the bunch we are, we were determined not to be moved by foul stench of undeodorized runner shoes and sweat. I am coughing just thinking of it. I knew I should have brought that can of oust with me.
Undeterred, I hopped on a bar stool next to one of the Chelski boys and proceeded to elbow the unlucky and very hairy gentleman beside me. I will mention, I did not do it on purpose but he was invading my territory; la Résistance was not going to let it happen again.
(cue La Marseillaise)
The long and short of it, the Chelski boys tried to sing them out of the pub but that didn't work out well enough. The only thing I knew for sure is that they would be gone by the time of the Arsenal match and that was my only concern.
Fucking HULL and their fucking manager, who by the way was put on "gardening" leave for being a complete and utter twat, just like his wanky little midfielder Boateng. I hate to say it but I am glad Cesc was not on the pitch for this stupidity.
The rest of the afternoon went along quite well, had a great conversation with a Rugby supporter, however we talked about everything else except sport. After which, I decided to follow Vinny up to another pub and had a very nice bleu cheese burger, not as good as thebarnextdoor but decent enough.
The night was capped off with me trying to fall asleep, yet my body trying to keep me awake. I blame that Mr. Van Gogh and his espresso. By the way, my superstar player name is seriously going to be Vennegoor of Hesselink. I want my name to form a horseshoe on my back. I should change it to something more appropriate though.
Sunday
I declared Sunday my non-football day. One because I was massively drained from the night before and two, the Formula 1 was on and I can watch it from my bed. Well I can listen to it, as I was way too tired to do much watching. By the way, I believe they have now got some of the worst announcers on television.
There used to be a good team but this one gentleman, of course the American accented one, made me want to pull out my brain. I guess the station does this to try and get more of a state-side audience but those things always fail in my book. Really, that 2 percent demographic in Peoria isn't going to turn to Formula 1, even though Juan Pablo went to Nascar. Say Whaaat?
I took my day of rest and spent it resting as Station (my band) had a show that evening in support of a good friend premiering his video and raising money to get a PA for speaking during his demos.
Matt was diagnosed with diabetes some time ago and has lost sight because of it. He, however, decided to not let it handicap him and has been doing Bike Trials Riding. He has been on NPR and several other outlets speaking for and about diabetes.
(Link to his site)
*Not the actual video but I thought I would share an earlier one.*
I believe he still may need some more donations, but if you have a moment, check out his videos, youtube/facebook blind bike trials and just give a hello. I'm sure he'll appreciate it.
By the way, Liverpool won...
~LeChat
Yah, who cares. A solid trouncing of that big Portuguese club. Did you expect anything less? What was I doing, absolutely nothing. I was working, it was a mid-week match and that's all I ever do when there is a mid-week match, unless I have the glorious luck to be allowed a day off for whatever dead person who probably accomplished a lot more in theirs than I did in my 30 odd years of life.
So in short, I was too in shock to post because Beeker himself scored a hat trick. ArseBob even texted me the result and I was still in disbelief. Yes, my pink boot wearing muppet looking friend scored a hat trick. So I decided to wait and see what would happen this weekend.
Saturday
Life, which this blog is really about, is similar to football. So like football, the game is 90 minutes and the ball is round... those are the only two things that are certain; more or less death and taxes.
The pub, this morning, smelled of wet dog due to it not only being rainy but a large, and by large I mean world cup final amount large, number of St. Patrick's Festivities 5k runners decided to occupy my beloved little space in the world.
However, being the bunch we are, we were determined not to be moved by foul stench of undeodorized runner shoes and sweat. I am coughing just thinking of it. I knew I should have brought that can of oust with me.
Undeterred, I hopped on a bar stool next to one of the Chelski boys and proceeded to elbow the unlucky and very hairy gentleman beside me. I will mention, I did not do it on purpose but he was invading my territory; la Résistance was not going to let it happen again.
(cue La Marseillaise)
The long and short of it, the Chelski boys tried to sing them out of the pub but that didn't work out well enough. The only thing I knew for sure is that they would be gone by the time of the Arsenal match and that was my only concern.
Fucking HULL and their fucking manager, who by the way was put on "gardening" leave for being a complete and utter twat, just like his wanky little midfielder Boateng. I hate to say it but I am glad Cesc was not on the pitch for this stupidity.
The rest of the afternoon went along quite well, had a great conversation with a Rugby supporter, however we talked about everything else except sport. After which, I decided to follow Vinny up to another pub and had a very nice bleu cheese burger, not as good as thebarnextdoor but decent enough.
The night was capped off with me trying to fall asleep, yet my body trying to keep me awake. I blame that Mr. Van Gogh and his espresso. By the way, my superstar player name is seriously going to be Vennegoor of Hesselink. I want my name to form a horseshoe on my back. I should change it to something more appropriate though.
Sunday
I declared Sunday my non-football day. One because I was massively drained from the night before and two, the Formula 1 was on and I can watch it from my bed. Well I can listen to it, as I was way too tired to do much watching. By the way, I believe they have now got some of the worst announcers on television.
There used to be a good team but this one gentleman, of course the American accented one, made me want to pull out my brain. I guess the station does this to try and get more of a state-side audience but those things always fail in my book. Really, that 2 percent demographic in Peoria isn't going to turn to Formula 1, even though Juan Pablo went to Nascar. Say Whaaat?
I took my day of rest and spent it resting as Station (my band) had a show that evening in support of a good friend premiering his video and raising money to get a PA for speaking during his demos.
Matt was diagnosed with diabetes some time ago and has lost sight because of it. He, however, decided to not let it handicap him and has been doing Bike Trials Riding. He has been on NPR and several other outlets speaking for and about diabetes.
(Link to his site)
*Not the actual video but I thought I would share an earlier one.*
I believe he still may need some more donations, but if you have a moment, check out his videos, youtube/facebook blind bike trials and just give a hello. I'm sure he'll appreciate it.
By the way, Liverpool won...
~LeChat
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