Sunderland at Home

Another pleasant weekend goes by, and the Arsenal take three points. I would guess that I should be taking away some satisfaction but the reality of it all is that it feels quite hollow. Three points is three points, no matter what, right? I don't give in easily with that philosophy but I do understand it.

Saturday at the pub was quite fun. The Scousers and Mancscum seemed to make it a game. Which at the end of the day, is what you really want to see. The mega blow out things are a bit... lacking... For lack of a better word.

The marathon kept a couple people pinned in to our little bubble which wasn't a bad thing. It's nice when folks stick around a bit. That hasn't been happening much at all lately. Myself, Camo, and HalfArseDean made a day of it though, even caught up with ACMilan, who was his usual self.

Sunday... well outside of the fact that I thought the game was at 10, was pretty nice. All the regular cast of characters, who jeered me for showing up in the middle of the second half, so sort of a homecoming, in an odd sort of way.

Afterwards, I found myself, Ginger, and SlainteLOSC surrounded by Geordies and Scum. Some new scum, I'd never spied before. They seemed a nice enough lot but not ones who have been bled upon the altar before.

One, who I know was kidding, asked if I had Adebayor's name on my kit. Of course I sneered in my sneery way and said, “I don't put anyone's name on my back, least of all a mercenary like half your lot.”

He laughed a bit nervously. Maybe between that and me saying earlier that he was lucky I couldn't find a knife fast enough to stab him when he had sat down next to me. Albeit they did put the one lads girlfriend between me and them. I don't think it was on purpose but it did happen.

Whilst I was waiting for my check, this guy comes up to me, introduces himself and starts asking about the game. I mention that I only made it down for the second half. Then he asks where I watch the Arsenal games. My reply of course was “Here, This is my home-bar.”

The next words that come out of his mouth were something something bistro. I took a deep breath and shook my head, “I don't go to that place.”

This led into a long conversation. He explained that he actually helps out preparing the place for the games and what not. He also mentioned how a certain person has made himself quite a few enemies. I explained to him the reasons why I don't patron that place and how I felt about, in gentle terms.

Mind you, the guy was simply a nice guy but he kept trying to convince me to go over to the bistro for a game. I tried being a nice and diplomatic as I could about it before finally tiring of the conversation, but it kept going for some odd reason.

Now I know exactly how it feels to be tapped up when your happy playing for your own club or in this case watching the football at your home-bar.

Ginger had been waiting patiently, while me and the bistroguy chatted, so I conveniently slipped in that we both needed to go and nodded towards her. He let me escape,  but seriously it made me wonder if he had come over on a recruitment mission and I just happened to be the only one left.

Who knows? All I can say, as I have said before, I will never be setting a foot in that bloody place.

~LeChat

Tottenham Away

From the looks of it, the wheels have fallen off.

All in all, amongst other things. The weekend was not half bad. I have to admit the festival was pretty nice, not a lot of big crowds and plenty of fun times. I guess at these moments of time, you have to stick with the positives.

I am really at a lost of words. I don't want to dwell on the failings because that does no one any good at the moment. I could whine and moan and grumble about sorts of things... things that have just been repeated ad nauseum.

It is a great big sigh.

So what now?

I watched the Cass Pennant movie the other day. Worth a look, if you're interested in football, ICF, and just an overall story of being black in the western world. 

OH! I did have this wonderfully big cheese steak on Saturday. Also a cat just licked my face. Then there were the pit beef sandwiches. Tasty as usual. I guess that is the best thing about the festival: the food.

I really had an inkling to get some stuff from the latin garden or whatever they were calling the upper area this year. It smelled so good plus I dig some bachata music.

I don't know. This has become a pure non-sensical ramble.
 


~LeChat

Newcastle Away (Carling) and West Ham at Home

I am doing the double, as mid-week I had little to say. Mind you I did have healthy fear of Newcastle away but it was much ado about nothing. For once, I was able to catch the second half of a mid-week.

The night before was the annual awards ceremony for my work. We had a certain gentleman who was fired from NPR just days before speaking. Long story short, the boss said we could either come in late or leave early the next day. I prefer leaving early in general.

I made it home to catch the second half. Right good timing. At one point I sent littleblondiegooner a text, to which she replied with pure vitriol and venom. I don't know but I think being in Beverly Hills affected her somehow. Not my fault you're on the west coast. The text simply stated BENDTNER by the way.

Onward ho towards the Premiership.

Saturday was spent as many other Saturdays, with the exception of it being the day before Halloween. Which, by the way, is not the greatest of holidays for black cats as they tend to be tortured and killed around this time of year by true assholes.

ManShitty, Chelski and the Arsenal all had games on at the same time so it was a battle of wills for the main screen. ManCityhimself offered up for the Arsenal crowd, as he thought it would be the better game. I didn't really care and conceded since there were definitely going to be more of them than us. No Chelski had shown up at this point.

HalfArseDean popped in wearing an Incredibles costume. I didn't even recognize him at first as he had this big afro wig on his usually shaven head. The pub started to fill up slowly, mostly Arsenal and the rest of ManCity.

Right before kick off the Chelski boys rolled in with big grins and their usual jovial spirits. They stood about for a few minutes and found that their game had been relegated to the back. Mind, they were a bit crossed and decided to hump it upstairs.

I have to admit the ManShitty game was actually pretty enjoyable. It's going to be sad when they aren't in Europe. Um, nevermind, I lied as I won't be sad. Big team that one is, right. Right?!

Actually just got done reading an article about how they are becoming as much of a threat as MancScum. It's not that important of an article, so I'm not going to link it. Mentioning MancScum however reminds me of that Nani goal.

That goal has received almost as much attention as some others, which we won't be mentioning. Really it's not that big of a deal, is it?

Play to the whistle, the mantra that is drilled into as a 6 year old on a chilly rainy fall morning, wherever it is you were. PLAY TO THE WHISTLE!

One of the Guardian blogs quoted a Graham Poll Daily Mail column with this diddy.

Unusually this situation had two alternative endings, both right in law - let the goal stand or give a free-kick for the missed handball after consultation with Beck. Personally I would have done the latter. Of course that would have saved Gomes the embarrassment that his stupidity perhaps deserved.

Well no one really likes Graham Poll but he does make some sense here. You don't have to like him to agree with him.

It's like the conversation I was having with the Grue about German engineering and science in the early 20th century. While that end of the deal was pretty good, the engineering and technology bit; the shit that surrounded regarding the treatment of non-German peoples really screwed the whole pooch, inside out and backwards.

Seriously, good things from bad people, it really does happen that way sometimes. Not that Graham Poll is Hitler or anything like that, please don't get me wrong on that one. But there's an actual poll or was on Monday about whether the refs are biased for MancScum.

It wasn't an overwhelming majority who believed so but it was still a majority. A poll that has mysteriously disappeared, unlike Graham Poll.

Spooky, isn't it.

~LeChat