Saturday 21 June 2008
Sunday 8 June 2008
Sunday 8 June 2008 – Euro 2008 Day 2
The day is ripe for invasion jokes as every red blooded English supporter has to swallow the bitterest pill. Personally I have swallowed something hard and jagged to accept that England just are not here, making no money and making no friends….sort of. Ultimately though our presence would hardly represent/inspire the stuff of Escape To Victory (I just couldn’t go a sentence without a WWII reference). Oh the added entertainment value to proceedings that would/could/should be Sylvester Stallone playing somewhere in goal. And after that penalty save surely he broke the footsteps rule which should have resulted in an indirect free kick on the edge of the six yard box. At the end of the day, who were the big cheats in that match after all?
It is unlikely that there will ever be a more dirty side in the history of football than that Germany team from 1981 in their blacker than black strips with the referee in their pocket plainly unaware as to the significant cultural importance that Michael Caine has had on the modern world. Who could ever forget the way they winded poor old Pele and managed to loss the support of action replay brained celebrity supporter: Exorcist star Max Von Sydow? Bergman could not have made this stuff up!
I’m not so sure that I am down with the concept of having co-hosts; it gives certain people too much leeway to blame the other half of the relationship. It is like a poor excuse for a wedding and certainly there has to be some kind of resentment from Austria in the way that they have no been given the opening day/ceremony with which to display their wares.
So today we find ourselves in Austria for the time as the quietly fancied/admired Croatia, disposers of England, take on half the hosts in the form of Austria. My more knowing and learned friend in Australia (originally Essex) did tell me that “Croatia were my tip before Eduardo got injured...still think they could do ok.” Looking at Billic calling the shots from the touchline with that silly earring though, I find myself struggling to take the organization seriously. What kind of message is he trying to put out there with his pirate/Mr T accessories?
Regardless of what I think, it is no surprise when Croatia take the lead, although coming in only the fourth minute is a pretty impressive feat and the best possible way to stamp authority onto this or any competition. As Modric slots the ball past Macho on his way to Tottenham it looks immediately that Croatia are likely to be the thorn in many sides.
Not that I see the goal live of course as yet again all my best efforts and intentions are thwarted, this time by my sixty year old father playing on his new Wii. I guess I brought that one on myself.
The second half plays out with little in the way incident and Austria begin to come back into the game, gaining possession but without really expressing any real threat. All the while however Croatia remaining looking the sharper of the two and often look the real danger as they threaten on breaks.
At halftime it is the first time this competition that I see the Reader’s Wives, the wives today consisting of Lineker, Hansen, Shearer and Strachan – individuals that bear no relation to proceedings on the pitch and not too much more knowledge than me it would seem.
Austria today are boasting a couple of expletives in it’s line up with the pure filth Pogatetz (pronounced “tits” apparently) in addition to the equally dirty Ivanschitz in which case I hope Ivan uses the bathroom to do his shits.
The second half plods on with Austria with the majority of possession and the crowd begins to fully get behind them as their confidence grows as the home team. A couple of random thoughts occur as I begin to wonder if the pennant on Austrian coach Hickersberger’s suit means that Puma made his suit or whether it is a smart and subtle piece of sponsorship. And when Dad points out that Simunic of Croatia looks like the cross breeding of Frank Lampard Jr and Frank Lampard Sr, I begin to wonder whether he too is playing his heart out for his mum.
By the end of the game it is unfortunate for Austria as they play beyond themselves, deserving of at least a point and causing some question in Croatia. Regardless though Croatia have come away 1-0 victors which is all that matters at close of play.
It is quite possible that Poland will be one of the best supported and most keenly followed nations here in the UK. As a result the building trade will now probably take a lengthy tea break for the next three weeks.
Tonight’s match appears to be referred by a Collina lookalike/wannabe (a Collina clone?) in Tom Ovrebo while Poland sports a Jamie Carragher-esqe Krzynowek. It is comforting also to see that Germany are still managed by their nation’s own version of wrestling manager/supreme Eric Bischoff in Joachim Low. This style is very well complimented by Poland by managed by their own version of Ric Flair, the equally legendary Dutchman Leo Beenhakker.
Germany have the aptly named Fritz which should be causing get worries and difficulties at this time for the commentators at hand, especially for fear of pulling a Ron Atkinson resulting in the lose of their job. Don’t say you weren’t warned.
Is it me or has the old German curly Rudi Voller hairstyle subtly started making a return to the bonnet of Ballack? It appeared to be happening towards the end of the season during the run in for Chelsea – was his hair ever curly before? I know he’s always looked a little bit like Matt Damon but the hair?
With tensions running high between the two nations it is inevitable when one of Germany’s three Polish born players scores as Podolski slots in from a tidy offside beating move in the 19th minute.
In qualifying Poland has a very good record and the strong run of form continues as they manage to more than hold their own, keeping the match competitive. Word is that they have been taking in a NASA fitness regime and their next mission after Euro 2008 will be to fly to the Planet Of The Apes and play a Monkey Select XI to be screened on Setanta next month.
Into the second half and it suddenly more and more noticeable just how ropey Germany are looking on crosses and set pieces. Fortunately for them however the man in black Jens Lehman is live from Folsom and looking impossible to beat.
By the time Podolski gets his second its already looking long over although. Germany slice open Poland’s defense and even though Klose turns shooting into high comedy, Podolski does not fuck about in sending a bullet of a volley almost through the net.
When Germany eventually 2-0 the game has long since petered out and the result is a formality. Germany fire a few more shots towards the Polish goal and bring on a substitute called “Kevin”. Poland have a few final opportunities but goals from them would have been undeserved.
At the end of the day two it does not appear that any team/nation are really standing out and it is left to the old guard to clean up.
It is unlikely that there will ever be a more dirty side in the history of football than that Germany team from 1981 in their blacker than black strips with the referee in their pocket plainly unaware as to the significant cultural importance that Michael Caine has had on the modern world. Who could ever forget the way they winded poor old Pele and managed to loss the support of action replay brained celebrity supporter: Exorcist star Max Von Sydow? Bergman could not have made this stuff up!
I’m not so sure that I am down with the concept of having co-hosts; it gives certain people too much leeway to blame the other half of the relationship. It is like a poor excuse for a wedding and certainly there has to be some kind of resentment from Austria in the way that they have no been given the opening day/ceremony with which to display their wares.
So today we find ourselves in Austria for the time as the quietly fancied/admired Croatia, disposers of England, take on half the hosts in the form of Austria. My more knowing and learned friend in Australia (originally Essex) did tell me that “Croatia were my tip before Eduardo got injured...still think they could do ok.” Looking at Billic calling the shots from the touchline with that silly earring though, I find myself struggling to take the organization seriously. What kind of message is he trying to put out there with his pirate/Mr T accessories?
Regardless of what I think, it is no surprise when Croatia take the lead, although coming in only the fourth minute is a pretty impressive feat and the best possible way to stamp authority onto this or any competition. As Modric slots the ball past Macho on his way to Tottenham it looks immediately that Croatia are likely to be the thorn in many sides.
Not that I see the goal live of course as yet again all my best efforts and intentions are thwarted, this time by my sixty year old father playing on his new Wii. I guess I brought that one on myself.
The second half plays out with little in the way incident and Austria begin to come back into the game, gaining possession but without really expressing any real threat. All the while however Croatia remaining looking the sharper of the two and often look the real danger as they threaten on breaks.
At halftime it is the first time this competition that I see the Reader’s Wives, the wives today consisting of Lineker, Hansen, Shearer and Strachan – individuals that bear no relation to proceedings on the pitch and not too much more knowledge than me it would seem.
Austria today are boasting a couple of expletives in it’s line up with the pure filth Pogatetz (pronounced “tits” apparently) in addition to the equally dirty Ivanschitz in which case I hope Ivan uses the bathroom to do his shits.
The second half plods on with Austria with the majority of possession and the crowd begins to fully get behind them as their confidence grows as the home team. A couple of random thoughts occur as I begin to wonder if the pennant on Austrian coach Hickersberger’s suit means that Puma made his suit or whether it is a smart and subtle piece of sponsorship. And when Dad points out that Simunic of Croatia looks like the cross breeding of Frank Lampard Jr and Frank Lampard Sr, I begin to wonder whether he too is playing his heart out for his mum.
By the end of the game it is unfortunate for Austria as they play beyond themselves, deserving of at least a point and causing some question in Croatia. Regardless though Croatia have come away 1-0 victors which is all that matters at close of play.
It is quite possible that Poland will be one of the best supported and most keenly followed nations here in the UK. As a result the building trade will now probably take a lengthy tea break for the next three weeks.
Tonight’s match appears to be referred by a Collina lookalike/wannabe (a Collina clone?) in Tom Ovrebo while Poland sports a Jamie Carragher-esqe Krzynowek. It is comforting also to see that Germany are still managed by their nation’s own version of wrestling manager/supreme Eric Bischoff in Joachim Low. This style is very well complimented by Poland by managed by their own version of Ric Flair, the equally legendary Dutchman Leo Beenhakker.
Germany have the aptly named Fritz which should be causing get worries and difficulties at this time for the commentators at hand, especially for fear of pulling a Ron Atkinson resulting in the lose of their job. Don’t say you weren’t warned.
Is it me or has the old German curly Rudi Voller hairstyle subtly started making a return to the bonnet of Ballack? It appeared to be happening towards the end of the season during the run in for Chelsea – was his hair ever curly before? I know he’s always looked a little bit like Matt Damon but the hair?
With tensions running high between the two nations it is inevitable when one of Germany’s three Polish born players scores as Podolski slots in from a tidy offside beating move in the 19th minute.
In qualifying Poland has a very good record and the strong run of form continues as they manage to more than hold their own, keeping the match competitive. Word is that they have been taking in a NASA fitness regime and their next mission after Euro 2008 will be to fly to the Planet Of The Apes and play a Monkey Select XI to be screened on Setanta next month.
Into the second half and it suddenly more and more noticeable just how ropey Germany are looking on crosses and set pieces. Fortunately for them however the man in black Jens Lehman is live from Folsom and looking impossible to beat.
By the time Podolski gets his second its already looking long over although. Germany slice open Poland’s defense and even though Klose turns shooting into high comedy, Podolski does not fuck about in sending a bullet of a volley almost through the net.
When Germany eventually 2-0 the game has long since petered out and the result is a formality. Germany fire a few more shots towards the Polish goal and bring on a substitute called “Kevin”. Poland have a few final opportunities but goals from them would have been undeserved.
At the end of the day two it does not appear that any team/nation are really standing out and it is left to the old guard to clean up.
Saturday 7 June 2008
Saturday 7 June 2008 – Euro 2008 Day 1
A sensible train of thought would be that being England have failed to qualify for this year’s tournament then really it should be cancelled. And if not cancelled, at the least be ignored by our Anglo populous.
God bless the News Of The World for giving away a free Panini sticker book a couple of weeks, I would never have known who was playing otherwise. These things generally tend to be laboured when a person has no emotional involvement. Personal feelings aside, it is a lowly year when there is not the summer football tournament in place to serve as an excuse for a drunken distraction and opportunity to be respectfully xenophobic.
Today in England there is misery. The rain is pouring cats and dogs and it is reflective of a national in mourning, missing out on a summer of football focus. The media is making token gestures, working the flimsiest of angles into articles and features to nudge our (dis)interest but it feels doomed to failure.
Whereas today I might have been gearing up to buy a new widescreenflatscreen fuck off giant TV to watch the finals on, instead I find myself purchasing a Nintendo Wii for my parents with our amusement dollar.
Also it is my friend’s 42nd birthday and she has escaped to Malawi – the most extreme effort/gesture to avoid these finals seen.
Indeed in an explicit act of defiance this evening I instead find myself battling the rain and trawling up to London for an afternoon of drinking and a night of comedy. For whatever reasons, David Cross is in town and he is not to be missed. Not to be missed even for……
Switzerland vs Czech Republic as today’s opener. Following the opening ceremony of course, it is hardly a fixture to inspire. The ceremony is indeed great, the result of a colourful mind seemingly cheesily influenced by a chemical imbalance and possibly a tendency to pedophilia. There are no chimps driving little cars but there is a LOT of red, a funny looking woman that is Miss Switzerland and many many puppets. Fortunately (or unfortunately) it doesn’t last too long but it is what it is.
On the field Switzerland (or Helvetia) do not look as if it will cause anyone any problems in this competition. There is little legacy attached to their side’s performances over the years and you suspect that were they not co-hosts they would not be in this competition. When your best known player is a defender (Philippe Senderos) how are you expected to score a lot of goals?
The Czech Republic on the other hand have been promising as sleeping giants of soccer for over a decade now. Up front they still boast the terrifying sight of Jan Koller, albeit a few years older, and maintain a number of a familiar names in their squad including Milan Baros and Tomas Rosicky. This is probably not the greatest Czech (Cseka Republika) side in recent memory but certainly one that will cause problems. Having been in the same group as Ireland and Wales, some scorn should be directed towards them from these shores for eliminating home nation sides and reducing our collective interest in the championship.
Obviously being out I missed the opener so bullshitting my way through after seeing a few seconds sprayed over the news, predictably the downbeat victory for the Czech Republic comes as no surprise. It did appear that Cech was busy and often troubled but otherwise there are no surprises. Watching the goal via Youtube (God bless Youtube) it came from scrappy defending with a hint of offside and goalkeeper Benaglio putting minimal effort into stopping the shot or challenging the attack, remaining on his feet like a plum and a lemon. Sverkos did however take his opportunity well, meaning all ended right with the world.
Perhaps most noticeable about the game was Switzerland’s captain Alexander Frei doing his own personal tribute to the sectioning of Gazza as he limps off in tears with a knee injury almost definitely ending his Euro 2008.
More interesting was the Portugal v Turkey fixture. With Ronaldo currently acting like a common prostitute and memories of his antics two years ago still leaving a bad taste with scars, choosing a side to support in this match proves near impossible for any decent Englishman. Obviously all the smart money was always going to be put on Portugal and the highlights show Portugal dominating the game, rattling the Turkish woodwork time after time including one of Ronaldo’s now Jonny Wilkinson-esqe (ie fucking poncy) dead ball efforts. Gomes’ efforts however prove far more spectacular and worthy.
Both the Portuguese goals come from impressive and direct moves that significantly upped their status in my mind as they achieve their supposed potential and justify hype. The first goal came from Pepe in the 61st minute and when Raul Meireles added a second very late it better reflects the weight of the game and leaves Scolari giggling at his decision not to take the England job in the end.
In the end though, after an afternoon session in Chandos and a fine meal at Wagamama, the comedy turns out to be far superior to the football as The Fix host an amazing lineup at the 100 Club. Adam Buxton compared an evening that opened with Rich Fulcher (Bob Fossil from The Mighty Boosh) and took in a laboured set by Stewart Lee, consisting mainly of analyzing a comedy record by Franklyn Ajaye. The night was headlined by the legend that is David Cross who never fails to disappoint, even when he is performing in front of a crowd of baying Sleater-Kinney fans. Mixing new/current material with some “classics” his quick fire set was over far too soon but not before toying with the concept and ignorance of racist pedophiles and how good champagne would just be wasted on a six year old anyway. I did not like his new beard though.
At the end of the evening boarding the 11.48 train out of Liverpool Street is a nightmare. At one point I am woken by some old bag sat opposite attempting to steal my News Of The World. From this point I never regain my ability to fall asleep, instead enduring a couple of skanks sat next to me, the blonde one of which proceeds to fart her way through the journey home and I swear more times than once they point to me as the culprit.
When I eventually read the newspaper home it is only a first edition featuring just the Switzerland v Czech Republic game and I am shocked by the picture/photo of Philippe Senderos seemingly heading the ball to the point it has burst. Did that really happen?
God bless the News Of The World for giving away a free Panini sticker book a couple of weeks, I would never have known who was playing otherwise. These things generally tend to be laboured when a person has no emotional involvement. Personal feelings aside, it is a lowly year when there is not the summer football tournament in place to serve as an excuse for a drunken distraction and opportunity to be respectfully xenophobic.
Today in England there is misery. The rain is pouring cats and dogs and it is reflective of a national in mourning, missing out on a summer of football focus. The media is making token gestures, working the flimsiest of angles into articles and features to nudge our (dis)interest but it feels doomed to failure.
Whereas today I might have been gearing up to buy a new widescreenflatscreen fuck off giant TV to watch the finals on, instead I find myself purchasing a Nintendo Wii for my parents with our amusement dollar.
Also it is my friend’s 42nd birthday and she has escaped to Malawi – the most extreme effort/gesture to avoid these finals seen.
Indeed in an explicit act of defiance this evening I instead find myself battling the rain and trawling up to London for an afternoon of drinking and a night of comedy. For whatever reasons, David Cross is in town and he is not to be missed. Not to be missed even for……
Switzerland vs Czech Republic as today’s opener. Following the opening ceremony of course, it is hardly a fixture to inspire. The ceremony is indeed great, the result of a colourful mind seemingly cheesily influenced by a chemical imbalance and possibly a tendency to pedophilia. There are no chimps driving little cars but there is a LOT of red, a funny looking woman that is Miss Switzerland and many many puppets. Fortunately (or unfortunately) it doesn’t last too long but it is what it is.
On the field Switzerland (or Helvetia) do not look as if it will cause anyone any problems in this competition. There is little legacy attached to their side’s performances over the years and you suspect that were they not co-hosts they would not be in this competition. When your best known player is a defender (Philippe Senderos) how are you expected to score a lot of goals?
The Czech Republic on the other hand have been promising as sleeping giants of soccer for over a decade now. Up front they still boast the terrifying sight of Jan Koller, albeit a few years older, and maintain a number of a familiar names in their squad including Milan Baros and Tomas Rosicky. This is probably not the greatest Czech (Cseka Republika) side in recent memory but certainly one that will cause problems. Having been in the same group as Ireland and Wales, some scorn should be directed towards them from these shores for eliminating home nation sides and reducing our collective interest in the championship.
Obviously being out I missed the opener so bullshitting my way through after seeing a few seconds sprayed over the news, predictably the downbeat victory for the Czech Republic comes as no surprise. It did appear that Cech was busy and often troubled but otherwise there are no surprises. Watching the goal via Youtube (God bless Youtube) it came from scrappy defending with a hint of offside and goalkeeper Benaglio putting minimal effort into stopping the shot or challenging the attack, remaining on his feet like a plum and a lemon. Sverkos did however take his opportunity well, meaning all ended right with the world.
Perhaps most noticeable about the game was Switzerland’s captain Alexander Frei doing his own personal tribute to the sectioning of Gazza as he limps off in tears with a knee injury almost definitely ending his Euro 2008.
More interesting was the Portugal v Turkey fixture. With Ronaldo currently acting like a common prostitute and memories of his antics two years ago still leaving a bad taste with scars, choosing a side to support in this match proves near impossible for any decent Englishman. Obviously all the smart money was always going to be put on Portugal and the highlights show Portugal dominating the game, rattling the Turkish woodwork time after time including one of Ronaldo’s now Jonny Wilkinson-esqe (ie fucking poncy) dead ball efforts. Gomes’ efforts however prove far more spectacular and worthy.
Both the Portuguese goals come from impressive and direct moves that significantly upped their status in my mind as they achieve their supposed potential and justify hype. The first goal came from Pepe in the 61st minute and when Raul Meireles added a second very late it better reflects the weight of the game and leaves Scolari giggling at his decision not to take the England job in the end.
In the end though, after an afternoon session in Chandos and a fine meal at Wagamama, the comedy turns out to be far superior to the football as The Fix host an amazing lineup at the 100 Club. Adam Buxton compared an evening that opened with Rich Fulcher (Bob Fossil from The Mighty Boosh) and took in a laboured set by Stewart Lee, consisting mainly of analyzing a comedy record by Franklyn Ajaye. The night was headlined by the legend that is David Cross who never fails to disappoint, even when he is performing in front of a crowd of baying Sleater-Kinney fans. Mixing new/current material with some “classics” his quick fire set was over far too soon but not before toying with the concept and ignorance of racist pedophiles and how good champagne would just be wasted on a six year old anyway. I did not like his new beard though.
At the end of the evening boarding the 11.48 train out of Liverpool Street is a nightmare. At one point I am woken by some old bag sat opposite attempting to steal my News Of The World. From this point I never regain my ability to fall asleep, instead enduring a couple of skanks sat next to me, the blonde one of which proceeds to fart her way through the journey home and I swear more times than once they point to me as the culprit.
When I eventually read the newspaper home it is only a first edition featuring just the Switzerland v Czech Republic game and I am shocked by the picture/photo of Philippe Senderos seemingly heading the ball to the point it has burst. Did that really happen?
Monday 5 May 2008
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