Yah, I'm still confused. These teams... where do they come from?
Belgium?
Midweek- I don't see the games mid-week unless I start bribing someone. Mentioning Italian league football/calcio.. whatever the hell they call it. This evening was an evening to hear not 1... not 2 but 4 bloody people speaking Italian words at the pub.
What goes?
So the night starts off with picking up Sheffield from Hopkins. He was a bottle of champagne into his night already. We had a quick one together... he tried singing some songs but we couldn't think of anything that wasn't offensive.
We also discovered that Duvel is actually good.
Sheffield leaves so I take a tour around the point for some Hot Tomato. Delicious I must say. Nothing better than a greasy pizza.
While sitting on a curb down by the park I get a text from ACMilan saying he was coming up from DC, which I figure, I should just head back to the pub. I look up across the park and see a dog named Chelsea and Mini-Mourhinho. I have a few words with him before heading down the street.
ACMilan finally shows up, an hour later. During that time I think I had like half of one of the staff's steaks and some asparagus. I must admit, hanging out at the pub at night does have it's benefits. Jonfromnextdoor came over as well.
ACMilan recounted the story of his alleged food poisoning. He figured it was a good idea to eat at a 7-11 and then go for the 7 - 10 mile run. Did I ever say that ACMilan is actually an ACMilan fan? Goes a long way to explaining it, doesn't it.
Anyways our conversation with Jonfromnextdoor quickly divulged into the politics and corruption in modern day football officiating versus American sports officiating. Not your normal bar conversation which B-Dawg repeatedly told us.
It was a good night though for a mid-week, well day after mid-week. I even got to run into one of my favorite Gooners in the middle of Thames. Mind you his woman decided to park in the middle of the street with flashers, Baltimore-style.
Looking forward to this weekend and 3 points in the league.
A very tired and sleepy... ~LeChat
17 September 2009
14 September 2009
ManCity - Away
Another Monday, another 3 points dropped by the Arsenal. I am guessing some will be expecting my usual litany of froth and venom about the game but I don't even know if that would be worth it at this point in time.
Where should I begin?
The day began well enough, the usual suspects in their places when I walked in to the pub. Mr.ManShitty himself actually greeted me with smiles, should have expected that would be trouble to begin with.
A few moments later, one of the original ManShitty supporters popped in. I will admit it was good to see Brighty, since it had been at least 2 years or so since he had shown up for a regular match. Brighty bought a few of his friends along with him which pre-game put ManShitty up to a whole 3 or 4 supporters.
Let's say by the end of the first half there was at least 7 or 8. It was a good showing by them supporter wise and did they let their voices be heard at 1-nil.
How about that Kanye West? What a tool!
As you know I don't really give play by play or deep analysis of the games to begin with. There are so many other blogs out there for that tripe. If you didn't watch it, catch the highlights on 101greatgoals or ole ole.
I will say, that a certain person has now earned more than honorary C**T status on my top five, maybe even superceding the 2006 Italian National team. I am not going to dwell on this. No reason. At the end of the day, he will get his.
On and by the way - from the Guardian
and....
So stupid they are.
So the back room of the pub now is my favorite spot to watch matches, if the sound is working. It's almost like a VIP section. Some may disagree but since the put up the new small television it feels like watching with my mates at home. Still waiting on that big screen for the back.
The Scousers were on the main since Irish is Scouse and I expect my beers to be served on time. He can have it. The man works harder than... (careful now don't want to offend anyone) Anyways, I can allow him that pleasure of dibs on the telly.
Chelski boys were in full effect but got a bit of a fright from Stoke. Someone said there was a Stoke supporter but later it was found to be a Sunderland supporter supporting Stoke. Nice tongue twister is that one, right?
There were no major highlights with the exception of LoudmouthGooner and Mr.ManShitty going back and forth for a bit. I think I chimed in with Loudmouth being a bit of nub and somehow I got a few little jokes on ManShitty.
He had also mentioned that I should say something nice about him. Let's see....
You ever see the movie Shrek? The Ogre, Shrek, says that Ogres are like onions, lots of layers. I will give ManShitty that, he's definitely an Ogre! Nah, seriously he's not a bad fellow, once you dig through the crap. He knows his team, supported them when they were, wait, still are rubbish.
I know this is not in any kind of chronological order, prefer to call myself more of a free-writer with no set agenda, just coming off the top of my head. My mind was so fried on Saturday after the loss.
I do remember at 3-1, GrumpyGooner and I both walked away and sat at the outdoor tables for a bit, just to let it set in. There was no way back and the consolation second goal was just that, nothing more.
We both headed back in because no matter what, neither one of us has ever left before the final whistle. That's a true supporter, even through blood, sweat and tears. I may walk away for a few moments, just to gather my mind but I'm always there for the final whistle.
Now I'm not saying anyone is less true than anyone else but there is something to be said for it. True supporters are there in bad times and good times. Whether you are watching it through the crack screen of a 14 inch tube television with no sound or on a cold rainy London night for a boring nil-nil draw. That is what sets you apart.
No scarf. No kit. Just pure Heart!
Passion for your club. Passion for the sport.
It disgusts me how some self-entitled over-paid wanker can say that such and such club never gave him support. That the fans never liked him. That those fans aren't true supporters, when you sell your ass to the next highest bidder.
You know who sells their ass to the next highest bidders?
I'm sure Ashley Cole can tell you. I have no respect for people like that.
I know I will get a wrath of whatever from whomever about my minor little vent but you know, seriously think about why footballers, or any other sports star, changes clubs. Yes you are right about them looking for the better deal but when the money is the only thing on their mind, and not the game, not bettering themselves or putting themselves in a better position to win more trophies... then you are nothing more than a high-society whore.
Alright enough said on that subject.
Funny moment on Saturday.
Characters - Black Spy (My shrilled voiced arch-nemesis),
White Spy (aka LeChat aka ME)
Meatheaded Gentleman (some meathead)
Setting: The bar next door!
Black Spy: You going to watch football tomorrow?
White Spy: You talking to me?
Black Spy: Yes! Well are you?
White Spy: Proper football or American football?
Meatheaded Gentleman gives strange looks towards the interloper speaking about other kinds of football besides American because that is Un-American. (Don't forget to make your dumbfounded face, just like you usually look)
Meatheaded Gentleman: Huuuh?
Black Spy: American, duh?
White Spy: Uh, No!
White Spy laughs maniacally and walks out.
End Scene
~LeChat
Where should I begin?
The day began well enough, the usual suspects in their places when I walked in to the pub. Mr.ManShitty himself actually greeted me with smiles, should have expected that would be trouble to begin with.
A few moments later, one of the original ManShitty supporters popped in. I will admit it was good to see Brighty, since it had been at least 2 years or so since he had shown up for a regular match. Brighty bought a few of his friends along with him which pre-game put ManShitty up to a whole 3 or 4 supporters.
Let's say by the end of the first half there was at least 7 or 8. It was a good showing by them supporter wise and did they let their voices be heard at 1-nil.
How about that Kanye West? What a tool!
As you know I don't really give play by play or deep analysis of the games to begin with. There are so many other blogs out there for that tripe. If you didn't watch it, catch the highlights on 101greatgoals or ole ole.
I will say, that a certain person has now earned more than honorary C**T status on my top five, maybe even superceding the 2006 Italian National team. I am not going to dwell on this. No reason. At the end of the day, he will get his.
On and by the way - from the Guardian
Eduardo da Silva's European ban has been rescinded on appeal after Uefa accepted the appeal lodged by Arsenal.
and....
"Following examination of all the evidence, notably the declarations of both the referee and the referees' assessor, as well as the various video footage, it was not established to the panel's satisfaction that the referee had been deceived in taking his decision on the penalty," said Uefa.
"Therefore, the decision of the Uefa Control and Disciplinary Body of 1 September, in which the player was suspended for two Uefa club competition matches, is annulled."
So stupid they are.
So the back room of the pub now is my favorite spot to watch matches, if the sound is working. It's almost like a VIP section. Some may disagree but since the put up the new small television it feels like watching with my mates at home. Still waiting on that big screen for the back.
The Scousers were on the main since Irish is Scouse and I expect my beers to be served on time. He can have it. The man works harder than... (careful now don't want to offend anyone) Anyways, I can allow him that pleasure of dibs on the telly.
Chelski boys were in full effect but got a bit of a fright from Stoke. Someone said there was a Stoke supporter but later it was found to be a Sunderland supporter supporting Stoke. Nice tongue twister is that one, right?
There were no major highlights with the exception of LoudmouthGooner and Mr.ManShitty going back and forth for a bit. I think I chimed in with Loudmouth being a bit of nub and somehow I got a few little jokes on ManShitty.
He had also mentioned that I should say something nice about him. Let's see....
You ever see the movie Shrek? The Ogre, Shrek, says that Ogres are like onions, lots of layers. I will give ManShitty that, he's definitely an Ogre! Nah, seriously he's not a bad fellow, once you dig through the crap. He knows his team, supported them when they were, wait, still are rubbish.
I know this is not in any kind of chronological order, prefer to call myself more of a free-writer with no set agenda, just coming off the top of my head. My mind was so fried on Saturday after the loss.
I do remember at 3-1, GrumpyGooner and I both walked away and sat at the outdoor tables for a bit, just to let it set in. There was no way back and the consolation second goal was just that, nothing more.
We both headed back in because no matter what, neither one of us has ever left before the final whistle. That's a true supporter, even through blood, sweat and tears. I may walk away for a few moments, just to gather my mind but I'm always there for the final whistle.
Now I'm not saying anyone is less true than anyone else but there is something to be said for it. True supporters are there in bad times and good times. Whether you are watching it through the crack screen of a 14 inch tube television with no sound or on a cold rainy London night for a boring nil-nil draw. That is what sets you apart.
No scarf. No kit. Just pure Heart!
Passion for your club. Passion for the sport.
It disgusts me how some self-entitled over-paid wanker can say that such and such club never gave him support. That the fans never liked him. That those fans aren't true supporters, when you sell your ass to the next highest bidder.
You know who sells their ass to the next highest bidders?
I'm sure Ashley Cole can tell you. I have no respect for people like that.
I know I will get a wrath of whatever from whomever about my minor little vent but you know, seriously think about why footballers, or any other sports star, changes clubs. Yes you are right about them looking for the better deal but when the money is the only thing on their mind, and not the game, not bettering themselves or putting themselves in a better position to win more trophies... then you are nothing more than a high-society whore.
Alright enough said on that subject.
Funny moment on Saturday.
Characters - Black Spy (My shrilled voiced arch-nemesis),
White Spy (aka LeChat aka ME)
Meatheaded Gentleman (some meathead)
Setting: The bar next door!
Black Spy: You going to watch football tomorrow?
White Spy: You talking to me?
Black Spy: Yes! Well are you?
White Spy: Proper football or American football?
Meatheaded Gentleman gives strange looks towards the interloper speaking about other kinds of football besides American because that is Un-American. (Don't forget to make your dumbfounded face, just like you usually look)
Meatheaded Gentleman: Huuuh?
Black Spy: American, duh?
White Spy: Uh, No!
White Spy laughs maniacally and walks out.
End Scene
~LeChat
07 September 2009
Internationals/WC2010 Qualifiers
Always, these things, mucking up the beginning of the season. Don't get me wrong, when June/July comes around I'll be all about some internationals. Right now, it's club not country. Actually, in reality, it's always club before country.
Alas, my brilliant plan for the weekend was to stay in, maybe catch a match or two on GolTV and do stuff around the homestead. However, other people and their random plans seem to do me in. Which now has made me an associate member of some Lithuanian society. I wonder if I can put that on my CV?
Saturday was the only real day for any football. I wake up with a splitting headache from the Lithuanian porters or maybe it was the weather. I can't really tell anymore. I decided I was hungry and headed down to the pub. The weather wasn't really that bad and I knew the Scotland game was on and the England game would shortly follow. Did I say breakfast sounded good at this point?
I headed towards the pub when I found out ChelskiGirl was doing her farmer's market thing. In my mind, it was a good idea to walk over and say hello, grab a coffee and head back to the pub afterwords for a box-tie.
I poked my head in while walking by, nothing exciting was happening, said hello to Irish and B-Dawg then took the long journey to Harbor East. I wish I knew the mileage but lets just say I wasn't really prepared for the walk. It became hot and annoying real quick, but I knew there would be an ice coffee at the end.
There are some things you do for your mates, walking across the waterfront to say "Hi" should be one of them. It wasn't as bad as I am making it out to be. I got to the market, sat around and people gawked while sipping on some icy coffee goodness before finally deciding it was too hot for me.
When I got back to the pub, there was a weird assortment of people. The bar was full but not crowded. I ended up grabbing a table in the back, since most of the normals were outside sipping their mimosas and the Scots were well involved in their game of chance.
For Scotland, I think it's always a game of chance. It wasn't a bad match but nothing to get too excited about either. However, my breakfast box-tie was delicious. There is something to be said about potatoes, eggs, bangers and cheese, all together now. I'm getting hungry thinking about it.
Now I remember what had the day being kind of odd. The Scousers were nicking pints of blood with the Red Cross outside. A couple of the ones I know kept asking me to give but I politely declined. I am not a giving blood sort of person.
ChelskiGirl and DJM, one of the Chelskiboys, decide to show up for the England friendly. We all end up at the far end of the bar next to some weird guy, whom I assume was a Chelski supporter of some kind as well. He kept asking random questions about the ban, not in a way where he was going to spout forth knowledge, but in a way where it was something he just read in the paper this morning.
Basically, it was a mellow, have a few and call it a day type of day. The pub had a strange crowd, almost as strange as the Scotland match. It wasn't busy but there were people around. The three of us basically joked around about how powerful Kazakhstan was going to be this year and that there is a shirt that say "I'd rather walk alone." This is a must buy, just to annoy the Scouser friends.
The blood drive did provide some entertainment. The Scousers, I should say RedScousers, who did give would come in looking like death warmed over and asking why aren't you guys giving blood. There was usually a laugh, a look at you, and some other funny remark coming from the three of us.
I guess all in all it wasn't too bad.
I did learn something though. ROONEY now dives on the International level as well. He is a cheating little bastard. I don't ever want to hear that guy call any one out for diving again.
I also learned that putting up a facebook post calling Maradona a fat c**t will get you in trouble with some people. I guess they didn't find me saying "Ok I won't call him fat anymore," as the apology they were looking for.
Til something interesting happens.
~Le Chat
P.S. For your viewing pleasure - Maradona is still a fat c**t
Alas, my brilliant plan for the weekend was to stay in, maybe catch a match or two on GolTV and do stuff around the homestead. However, other people and their random plans seem to do me in. Which now has made me an associate member of some Lithuanian society. I wonder if I can put that on my CV?
Saturday was the only real day for any football. I wake up with a splitting headache from the Lithuanian porters or maybe it was the weather. I can't really tell anymore. I decided I was hungry and headed down to the pub. The weather wasn't really that bad and I knew the Scotland game was on and the England game would shortly follow. Did I say breakfast sounded good at this point?
I headed towards the pub when I found out ChelskiGirl was doing her farmer's market thing. In my mind, it was a good idea to walk over and say hello, grab a coffee and head back to the pub afterwords for a box-tie.
I poked my head in while walking by, nothing exciting was happening, said hello to Irish and B-Dawg then took the long journey to Harbor East. I wish I knew the mileage but lets just say I wasn't really prepared for the walk. It became hot and annoying real quick, but I knew there would be an ice coffee at the end.
There are some things you do for your mates, walking across the waterfront to say "Hi" should be one of them. It wasn't as bad as I am making it out to be. I got to the market, sat around and people gawked while sipping on some icy coffee goodness before finally deciding it was too hot for me.
When I got back to the pub, there was a weird assortment of people. The bar was full but not crowded. I ended up grabbing a table in the back, since most of the normals were outside sipping their mimosas and the Scots were well involved in their game of chance.
For Scotland, I think it's always a game of chance. It wasn't a bad match but nothing to get too excited about either. However, my breakfast box-tie was delicious. There is something to be said about potatoes, eggs, bangers and cheese, all together now. I'm getting hungry thinking about it.
Now I remember what had the day being kind of odd. The Scousers were nicking pints of blood with the Red Cross outside. A couple of the ones I know kept asking me to give but I politely declined. I am not a giving blood sort of person.
ChelskiGirl and DJM, one of the Chelskiboys, decide to show up for the England friendly. We all end up at the far end of the bar next to some weird guy, whom I assume was a Chelski supporter of some kind as well. He kept asking random questions about the ban, not in a way where he was going to spout forth knowledge, but in a way where it was something he just read in the paper this morning.
Basically, it was a mellow, have a few and call it a day type of day. The pub had a strange crowd, almost as strange as the Scotland match. It wasn't busy but there were people around. The three of us basically joked around about how powerful Kazakhstan was going to be this year and that there is a shirt that say "I'd rather walk alone." This is a must buy, just to annoy the Scouser friends.
The blood drive did provide some entertainment. The Scousers, I should say RedScousers, who did give would come in looking like death warmed over and asking why aren't you guys giving blood. There was usually a laugh, a look at you, and some other funny remark coming from the three of us.
I guess all in all it wasn't too bad.
I did learn something though. ROONEY now dives on the International level as well. He is a cheating little bastard. I don't ever want to hear that guy call any one out for diving again.
I also learned that putting up a facebook post calling Maradona a fat c**t will get you in trouble with some people. I guess they didn't find me saying "Ok I won't call him fat anymore," as the apology they were looking for.
Til something interesting happens.
~Le Chat
P.S. For your viewing pleasure - Maradona is still a fat c**t
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