Wolves at Home

Happy St. Valentine's day to you and yours or it, or whatever you decide to declare your romantic interests to. Whether it be an actual living breathing human being, a sheep or that nice soft sock/pillow, etc.. and so on.

This weekend we were met with the MancScum v. ManShitty derby. However, for myself, it was at a very inconvenient time in the morning. I decided it would best be spent getting myself ready for the proper match and not deal with the fair-weather rabble that tends to show up for these things.

Did I ever tell you how much I detest many MancScum so called fans? I'm not talking about the ones that I actually call friends, albeit in the loose vernacular term. I mean the ones who discovered United when xxx played for them or they won the double or the store down the street sold Beckham kits and he was/is still the best player ever.

You know the people I'm talking about. All clubs, at least on this side of the world have them; the glory hunter fan. There are a ton of these people, who don't know the history, only understand the geographical significance of this weekend's derby and only show up for the big games... when they're winning.

Now, I'll give you the respect if you just happened upon the sport at such a time and it is the reason you became interested, but don't feign interest when it's convenient. If I can't hold a conversation with you about the tactical significance of Coventry's midfield when they are playing Doncaster during a mid-table skirmish during a rainy boring nil nil on a Wednesday night, then we have nothing to go on about, do we?

Don't get me wrong, like I said, if you want to learn and spend time in the salt mines, like we all have, then much respect. However, you need to show up for more than the just the big games, when you are on top of the league.
/rant

The Arsenal match just happened to be on during the same time as the Liverpool match, so we were regulated to the side screen without sound. It didn't matter much to me as it was a much more comfortable match for the boys in red and white.

The Liverpool affair, I must say, was quite fun. At some point during the match, Shorts decided that Wigan needed some props, so to speak. He carefully blended a little ditty off of a Wu-Tang Clan chant, which started to bug a Scouser I'd never seen before. It was kind of funny but to his credit.

WIGAN ATHLETIC AIN'T NOTHING TO FUCK WITH!

He was all about it until he found out that it was the 'latics was just short for athletics and had nothing to do with milk, courtesy of the Lady of Manchester. We'll accept that as true.

This morning was filled with an unusual surprise. Ronaldo (the real one or the fat one, whichever you prefer) is retiring. I remember when he first stepped out for Brasil and was a complete phenom. I even bought his biography, something I never do for footballers but it's an interesting story.

Actually, if Anelka wrote one, I'd buy that too, because I'm sure that's an interesting story. Also, I still haven't seen the Zidane movie, a 21st century portrait. If anyone can get your hands on it, I'd be truly grateful.

Anyways, I knew he'd been hurt and not playing much, definitely not playing to his full 100%. I can admit I actually shed a small tear. The goofy smile, big head and funky hairdo will be missed. I don't see him staying in football, maybe in a back office, running some camps or scouting or something but not as manager.

So to Ronaldo Luis Nazario de Lima, BOA SORTE!
(that bloody well better be correct!)

~LeChat

Everton at Home and Newcastle Away

Well Tuesday was Tuesday. There isn't too much to say about it. It was a mid week game. The Arsenal played... won... 3 points to the good.

Now Saturday was a whole new ball of wax.

LilBlondieGooner sent me an early morning text. She was still jet-lagging from the wrong coast and was wondering when people were coming down. I let her know I'd be right around game time. I couldn't see myself getting there any earlier.

I arrived to the general milling around of the ManShitty by the door, followed by a few of the faithful. Gingerette and I grabbed a booth and invited LilBlondie to come over for a seat. She reminded us that it was MiniMo's birthday.

After a few, some Geordies started filing in. I have to admit I don't have a problem with the Geordie lot from the pub. Most of them are nice guys, at least from my experience with them. They know their football and are proud of their team. One can't complain about that.

However, somewhere along the line, there must be something that happened that a few others make comments about them. I usually just shake my head because I've never had any bad experiences with them. At least not with this lot.

Someone had mentioned they come off a little brusque and boisterous. I am going to chalk it up to people forgetting that they existed. I mean, they are Newcastle fans, what can one expect. It just goes back to my supporters are a reflection of their team and vice-versa. They're honest, I like that.

The first half was good. I can't complain one bit. I did see Shorts walking a small dog in the rain. It was an odd sight.

At halftime, there was cake to be had. The Bakerman, had done up a nice rich chocolate thing and we sang Happy Birthday to MiniMo. It was all quite nice.

The second half, well, how do I say this? I don't know. It happened. I think all my vulgarities for the week left my mouth within a span of 10 minutes.

Later that day, I had gone shopping with Gingerette. While she was in line waiting, I was standing around, checking scores on the phone and just trying not to be in the way. I was the typical guy waiting around the girly section of the store, while stuff was being purchased, not that I really mind or anything.

This lad comes up to me, we give each other the nod, it was obvious he was looking for something but what I didn't know. Somehow he spied enough of my kit, which was half hidden by my jacket.

"Eh? Ya Arsenal mate?" He had a thick London accent that caught me off guard.

"Yah..." I must have looked utterly confused

"Gutted, simply gutted."

"True. It was a different second."

He quickly chimed in, "Ya see United lost."

Nodding and smiling, "2-1 Wolves, just saw it on my phone."

He then asked for the lift, then correcting himself and saying elevator, to which the cashier pointed out. We nod and express good wishes to each other. Funny how you can randomly run into someone and have this random conversation about something completely relevant to your life.

I don't know, maybe I read too much into it. There is something about sport in general though that can make two random people, all of the sudden relate to some particular thing. It's hard pressed to find anything else like it, devoid of race, creed and religion.

In some circles, there are those that say sport is religion. Or you could have one of those shirts from the 90's that read along the lines X is life, the rest is just details.

The fact is, it's a leveling factor in many of our lives, at least for those reading this blog. I guess I'm saying that my life has been enriched by those I've come into contact with through football, the pub and sheer randomness.

For good and for bad, the world keeps getting smaller.

By the way, someone just hacked my yahoo account and spammed from it. Watch your passwords and change them often.

~LeChat

Wolves Away and Everton Away

It seems like I've been writing this blog forever and a day. There have been highs and there have been lows. The best part of it all is I keep giving. However, I've noticed I missed a couple of midweeks lately. I'm going to say it was fatigue. Things have just been piling up like a big old elephant after eating laxatives.

So what's the good. Two wins in the past 7 days. I can't complain about that. There's all this talk about having a fighting spirit. You lose it.. You gain it... at the end of the day it just matters about who is really up for it and who has fallen complacent.

It's a truism, when you are on top, it's easy to coast along until you have a challenger; Someone to push you to the final hurdle, someone to kick you while you're down and not just roll over and lay beside you. Without this challenge, what have you? A whole lot of nothing really, a bunch of patsys just nodding yes to everything you do, until you finally realise the new clothes are not really invisible and your jewels have been swinging in the bright sun all afternoon.

High dollar fashion does have it's risk with very little reward. Towards the end of last week we've seen the dismantling of those who might be giants by a swarm of minnows. In short, there be parity in the league. And no matter how much you sulk and complain, this is a good thing. It always has been, always will be.

I remember growing up and hearing the yabbing about this and that, OH Newcastle, OH Forest, OH LEEDS and now look where they sit. And in the case of Leeds, the bigger the star the quicker the fall.

I guess what I'm getting it is there is whole bunch of consistency with certain squads, many of them mid-table, while others fluctuate between leagues or yo-yo as they say. Those that tend to rise quickly, also tend to fall quickly. It's just a word of caution, nothing more, nothing less.

Football in itself, can be used a reflection upon real life. If you really think about it, well you can fit rectangles into square holes, if need be, but there are those days where everything is just going right. The incredible shot was stopped, the ball dished off to the backs, pumped into the mid-field that runs rampant down the wings, floating a perfect ball into the box that's latched onto and put pass an awestruck opposing number one.

I wish all days could be like that. The reality of it all is that it's more about the aforementioned fighting spirit. You have a bad week, lose the ball and the plot on numerous occasions. The press seems to be misprinting every word you say and John Terry and Ashley Cole just roasted your page 3 wife; the same one who gets the house in Nice and 25% of your future earnings in the pre-nup.

However, the game goes on. The ball is round. The game is 90 minutes.

Play to the whistle.

~LeChat

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

Liverpool at Home

Once again the red tide of Scouse has been turned back during a mid-week fixture. As usual, yours truly could not avail himself to witness it at the pub, due to reasons beyond his control and for once, not concerning actually being at work.

Yes, that's right. SNOW BOUND, like a 19th century family trying to get through the Sierra Nevadas with only a few days rations and sick children. Something has got to give and if I have to resort to cannibalism, so be it.

ArsenalTV, however, gave me hope of watching, in shambled fashion, the match. It's sort of like watching a bad security tape or web-cam.

OH there's an image...there's another image...OH WAIT a couple of seconds of movement...

You can see what I am getting at. I do like the commentators though. They are a very insightful lot and the pre-show is kind of nice. They will run the highlights from a previous meeting, which is crystal clear and without all the jumpiness and buffering of the live broadcast. The thing that gets me is how clear the warm-ups are, then the whistle goes off and I'm left with what amounts to 1980's scrambled porn.

In other news, WOLVES bettered the Scum. I like Wolves, well real wolves, not too fond of Wolverhampton but they beat the Scum so that is satisfactory in my book. Mentioning wolves, I remember seeing this thing on Iberian wolves a couple years ago. I had a Siberian Husky at the time and for some reason, it was the only time that she was actually tricked into howling with the wolves on television. Funny thing that was.

Mentioning Iberia, it was one of the few airlines, up until recently that you were still allowed to smoke on. Now I am no smoker but I did find it interesting that it was one of the last holdouts, figuring since it was a Spanish airline and the Spaniards have a considerably different opinion on the issue of smoking in confined spaces.

MENTIONING the Spanish, brings me to this whole thing of not liking Franco or fascist too much in general. Actually, I have a down-right dislike of their sort and so do the Catalunyans.

MENTIONING CATALAN, there resides a little place there called BARCELONA, which houses a great and wonderful team in La Liga that goes by the name FC BARCELONA. Now I do have a fondness of said team, as they have had many dealings with the Arsenal in the past.

So in summation, I do not really care if Cesc leaves to go back to Barca. It is his prerogative. He's a man who has to do a job, just like everyone else. He's currently doing his job well and by all his personal claims, likes his employer. He just wants them to be suc-CESC-ful. Isn't that what we all want, well with differing degrees of who want to be successful?

I think I've said enough today. I need to go unstuck myself and my German machine. So for those in the area, be safe and stay warm.. for those in warmer climes...

FUCK OFF... haha!

~LeChat