UBIQUITOUS END OF YEAR TOP TENS Top Ten Games

In case you hadn't read this, from ESPNSoccernet's Quotes of the Decade:

"A virgin" - October 2007 - Peter Crouch responds to a question about
what he would have been if he had not become a footballer.


Dave says he's now a Peter Crouch fan.  I'll go one further: no single sentence has ever changed my opinion of a person's worth as much as that one.  And he only needed two words.

Again, be warned, these are video links.

10. Tottenham Hotspurs 9 Wigan Athletic 1
English Premier League, Nov 22
One team scored 9 times.  The other scored one.  That doesn't happen very often in soccer.


9.  Manchester United 4 Manchester City 3
English Premier League, Sep. 20
Five minutes into four minutes of injury time, Manchester United won the game they threw away a few minutes earlier.  Again, a miracle last minute result for United makes me question how time is kept in professional soccer.  No matter what happens in the first half, they never find more than two minutes of added time.  When you're in those two minutes, time is completely inflexible—you could throw the ball out and tie your shoe for two minutes and the half will end at the same time.  But at the end of the game, it's always a minimum of four.  And then things like this happen.

8. Barcelona 6 Real Madrid 2
La Liga, May 2
Gabriel Heinze vs. Lionel Messi.  Sergio Ramos vs. Thierry Henry.  Gago vs. Xavi.  The outcome was so inevitable, but still so enjoyable.  Barca goals 1, 2 and 4 were exhibits A, B and C of why Sergio Ramos can't defend; Diarra gifted Barca the third; Messi breezed past Heinze for the fifth; even center back Pique got in on the action.  I think I exacted the same sort of joy when watching the Red Sox beat
the Yankees in 2005.  Like Barca, the Red Sox were a wealthy powerhouse I didn't really have any business cheering for, but when someone inflicts so much pain on the Yankees, I can't help but stand up and cheer.  Real are just the Yankees of soccer.  When they lose, I smile.

7. Lyon 5 Marseille 5

Ligue 1 (France), Dec 8

The score pretty much speaks for itself.  The first shot on goal was fired 40 seconds into the game.  The last came in the 93rd.  In between, the ball hit the back of the net ten times—5 times in the last 15 minutes—with three ties and as many lead changes.  That's soccer even Nascar fans can appreciate.

6. Arsenal 4 Liverpool 4
English Premier League, Apr 21
Arshavin 4.  Liverpool 4.  The pocket sized Russian became the shortest player ever to score 4 goals in the Premier League.  This is based on no research whatsoever.  It simply has to be true, though; if anyone recalls a midget scoring 4 times in a game, let me know and I'll rescind.

5. France 1 Ireland 1
World Cup Qualifier, Nov 18
Well, we all know what happened here.  120 minutes of soccer to be remembered forever by the moment Thierry Henry used his left hand to sodomize all of Ireland.

4. USA 2 Spain 0
Confederations Cup Semifinal, Jun 25
It wasn't just that Spain hadn't lost in 35 matches, they hadn't even drawn in 15.  And against Concacaf sides?  They'd never lost.  The U.S., meanwhile, snuck into the last four by way of a surprising 3-0 win against Egypt and Italy's shocking capitulation against a Brazil side who didn't need anything from the game.  It was supposed to be the dream final; a precursor to the following Summer, something to wet the world's appetite.  But the Americans spoiled the party with a display of steely resolve.  Certainly, they profited from the type of amateur defending that will ultimately undermine Spain next summer (Sergio Ramos cannot defend, exhibit D), but the US were well organized and limited their glamorous opponents to a handful of half-chances.

3. Chelsea 4 Liverpool 4
Champions League Quarterfinal, Apr 14
Liverpool were like one of those movie villains that simply won't die no matter how many times you shoot them or how tall the building is that you throw them off.  And like the films that use such a cliche, the scenarios of their survival just kept getting less and less plausible.  Entering the game, Liverpool were behind 3-1 on aggregate, meaning they had to score 3 or more goals and win by at least 2 away from home.  Impossible?  A normal villain would die from such a plunge, you say?  Well, Liverpool were up 2-0 in the first half, just a goal away from making it through.  Chelsea appeared to put the stake through Liverpool hearts with 3 goals in reply.  But, of course, Liverpool crawled off the floor again, scoring twice in quick succession to retake the lead late in the game and again, inch themselves within a goal of the semifinals.  In the end, it was only the death throes; you know, when the seemingly dead villain summons the energy to raise his gun to shoot the hero only to be shot dead at the last second by someone off camera?  That's all those goals ended up being.  Frank Lampard fired the fatal bullet in the 89th minute.  4-4 on the night, 7-5 on aggregate.  Which sets us up nicely for:

2. Barca 1 Chelsea 1
Champions League Semifinal, May 14
I wonder why it is I enjoyed this game so much; it ended 1-1, no punches were thrown, it was free of fan-related controversy, what kept me so enthralled?  I mean, were the goals really that far beyond what we're used to seeing in the Premier League on any given week?

I have a few theories:
A) I was drunk in a pub on my lunch break, sitting next a fat English guy who kept screaming "You're dad's a fucking junkie!" every time John Terry touched the ball.  Naturally, this reminded me of the World Cup.
B) It's like Super Bowl 42; a good game elevated into a great one by one great play in the dying moments.  Had Tyree not made that catch, the headlines would have read something like "Ugly but Unbeaten," or "Pats Grind to Perfection."  Similarly, over the course of 90 minutes, this probably wasn't an epic, but one or two moments somehow sublimate all that mediocrity.
C) It is a rare and splendid pleasure I take from watching Chelsea lose.

1. Brazil 3 USA 2
Confederations Cup Finals, Jun 28
This game simply fulfills so many of the qualifications for a good game: the massive underdog that shouldn't even be there (obvious) against the perennial powerhouses; a shocking start; great goals; and, of course, the inevitable comeback where the champion simply refuses to be beaten.  I think if the US could have held on through the first ten or fifteen minutes of the second half, they might have pulled it out, but once Fabiano scored Brazil's opener only seconds into the interval, you could feel it coming.  The rest of the game for me was dread fulfillment. like watching the teenage night swimmer in the beginning of Jaws.

My Top Ten Games list has 5 ties in it.  Go ahead, America, poke fun.

WORLD CUP Nerdy moment of the day.

I took immense pleasure in putting Cape Town into my phone's weather app.

162 days.

UBIQUITOUS END OF YEAR TOP TENS Soccernet's Review of the Decade (and Geek's Team of the Decade)

Before I get into the next Top Ten, I wanted to call attention to ESPN Soccernet's decade review, which, in part, inspired my own similar review of 2009.  Of particular interest are the Premier League Team of the Decade, which was more or less fair in my estimation (though Gary Neville at right back irks me... I mean, Gary Neville, really?), Worst Kits of the Decade (that's British for uniform, and there are some truly abhorrent inclusions) and International Team of Decade.  This last one draws my ire for it's exclusion of Thierry Henry from the first XI.  Instead, they've gone with the attacking trio of Cristiano Ronaldo, Lionel Messi and Ruud van Nistelrooy.  Yes, I'm an Arsenal fan and yes, I am a massive fan of Thierry Henry, but let me try to give an objective analysis of their respective CV's here: 
Rutgerus Johannes Martinus van Nistelroij (I'd happily reserve him a place on my all name team)
Club: 3 Premier League titles, 2 La Liga, 2 FA cups.  219 goals this decade.
International: Euro 2004 semifinalist, WC 2006 rd of 16, Euro 2008 quarterfinalist.  32 goals this decade in in 55 appearances
Lionel Andres Messi
Club: 3 La Liga Titles, 2 Champions League, 1 Copa del Rey, 1 World Club Cup (it should be noted that he only made a handful of appearances in Barca's 2006 La Liga and Champions League triumphs) 94 goals. 
International: WC 2006 quarterfinalists, Copa America 2007 finalist.  13 goals in 41 caps.
Cristiano Ronaldo dos Santos Aveiro
Club: 3 Premier League titles, 1 Champions League, 1 World Club Cup. 136 goals this decade.
International: Euro 2004 finalist, World Cup 2006 semifinalist, Euro 2008 semifinalist.  22 goals in 68 caps.
Thierry Daniel Henry
Club: 2 Premier League titles, 3 FA Cups, 2 La Liga, 1 Champions League, 2006 Champions League finalist, 1 Copa del Rey, 1 World Club Cup.  257 goals this decade.  And, perhaps the greatest achievement, going through the entire 2003-2004 Premier League season undefeated.  Also, holds the Arsenal goal scoring record with 226.
International: Euro 2000 Champion, World Cup 2006 finalist (France though, were flops in World Cup 2002 and Euro 2008), 43 goals in 95 caps this decade.  Holds the France goal scoring record with 51.

Is this even a contest?  Certainly, there is something to be said for the intangibles of the game, but anyone that watched Henry through the early to middle part of this decade will know he had plenty to offer in the parts of his game that aren't reflected in the numbers.  Maybe the British pundits still begrudge him for his handball against Ireland.

Another scandalous exclusion: Kaka wasn't included on a single pundit's list despite being the World Player of the year in 2007 (the year he won the Champions League with Milan) and a World Cup champion in 2002.

Mildly questionable ommisions: Defender Lillian Thuram (Euro 2000 winner, WC 2006 finalist, 2 time Serie A champion; Samuel Eto'o (who has become the most decorated African footballer of all time); Michael Ballack (bridesmaid in WC 2002, CL 2001, 2008, Euro 2008, 5 time Bundesliga champion); Andrey Shevchenko, CL champion 2003 and 2007 with Milan, 2nd all time in that clubs goal scoring charts.

What the hell... here's the Geek's Team of Decade:
4-3-3 with Henry at the point
GK Buffon
Def: Thuram, Cannavaro, Maldini, Cafu
Mid: Makele, Pirlo, Zidane
Fwd: Henry, C. Ronaldo, Kaka
Subs: Kahn, Puyol, Messi, Ballack, Xavi
Just missed: Ronaldinho, Gerrard, Shevchenko

Feel free to disagree... but be warned, if you do, I want nerdy stats.

UBIQUITOUS END OF YEAR TOP TENS Top Ten Goals

Author's Note

I told myself I was going steer clear of the cliche "Top Ten" lists that swallow the internet whole around this time of year (they're especially prevalent now as there's not only 2009 to cover in ten glib summations, but an entire decade), but I couldn't help myself.  The fact of the matter is, I'm a total whore for them.  Growing up a sports fan, card collector and Asian, I have a natural predilection for statistics, rankings and all things that can be qualified into neat lists.  I could give a damn about law or business school, but would I like to know the top ten schools?  Why yes, yes I would.  Top ten American cities to live?  I have no intentions of moving but yeah, I'll take a gander at that, too.  Just the other day I almost peeked into one those gossip mags at the grocery store checkout, lured by the cover's promise of "Top Ten Scandals of the Year!"  (As I reached for it, a moderately attractive female got in line behind me; instinctually, I picked up Men's Health.  "Only 10 minutes a day for sculpted biceps?  I've been wasting my time!")  It only figures that I find myself absorbed by such meaningless end of year protocol when it actually has to do with a genuine interest of mine.  

So why would I want to avoid personally dabbling in the genre?  Well, these lists are classically disappointing as actual reading material; more than anything else, their growing popularity are symptomatic of our culture's ever declining attention span.  They are not actual writing, after all, just bullet point fragments that can be consumed and forgotten in the time we wait for that indecisive fat guy in front of us at the check out line to figure out if he still wants those cream puffs now that he knows they're not on sale.   And, as someone who has no credentials to compile such lists with any authority or conviction, I feared playing into the cliché would also compound their meaninglessness.  

But then I realized something, something critical: This is a fucking blog.  The internal grapple with my supposed principles and integrity is just as, if not more, pointless than whatever end product I could possibly put in this space.  So here it is, the first of a few such lists.  I’ll start with perhaps the most obvious cliché…

Top Ten Goals of 2009 

Let me preface this list by saying that this is, by no means, comprehensive.  Though I watched an appalling amount of soccer through 2009, I am only one geek and, despite the value of the internet, could not have possibly seen every goal scored this year.  That being said, the list is English Premier League heavy due to the coverage it receives here in the U.S. 

Also, I've tried to remain as unbiased as possible; as ever, there was the urge to make this list very Arsenal-centric, but I think I've avoided that as best I could and have even included some genuinely cringe inducing characters to the list.  The goals are ranked based on aesthetic quality, level of difficulty, and competitive importance.  Feel free to throw in your own two cents.

(Caution: for those of you at work, each goal has a link to the video of the goal... in case The Man is lurking) 

10 (tie).  Lionel Messi, Barcelona vs. Lyon, Champions League Quarterfinal. Okay, so it's kind of a cheap to have a tie at #10, I know.  But I simply couldn't deny the little Argentine a place in this list after the year he's had.  The problem with Barcelona (and really, it's hardly a problem) is that they were simply too good in 2009.  When you're mauling teams by 3 goals a game, it's hard to pick out a goal of real value; everything looks easy, few goals can really be considered critical.  This is, more than anything, an acknowledgement of an entire archetype of goal scoring that Barca perfected in 2009: Messi receives ball wide right after a flowing passing move, takes on his defender cuts inside, works a combination with a teammate which cuts open the defense, then passes the ball into the corner.  (Skip to 3:00 for the goal in question). 

10 (tie). Emmanuel Adebayor, Arsenal vs. Villareal, Champions League Quarterfinal.  You have no idea how hard it is for me to put Adebayor on this list.  In 2007 he was a hero of mine; a goal scorer, a tireless worker, a flamboyant livewire.  In 2008, his endless flirtations with the supposed “bigger clubs” of the world and lazy performances turned him into a mild irritant, like crabs.  In 2009, he’s progressed into a full-blown herpes breakout on my soul.  After a rather unceremonious departure from Arsenal for a huge payday at Manchester City in the summer, he descended into the dark side never to return when the two teams met in September.  His reunion with his former teammates started with a two-footed studs up challenge on Cesc Fabregas, before stamping on Robin van Persie’s face.  To cap things off, he sprinted the length of the pitch to celebrate his goal in front of the visitng Arsenal fans (and no, he wasn't recalling old times).  Furthermore, it was revealed that he was a constant cad in Arsenal’s locker room in his time in North London.  I hate the man.  I hate the man as much as I hate any living professional athlete; it’s not even a fun hate like the way people hate Kobe or Tony Romo.  He actually makes me angry.  (Yes, I’m aware that ranting like this on a top ten goals list makes me sound like a bitter ex; fuck it, I can’t mention him without revealing the depths of my hate—it’s a side effect of the soul herpes he's given me).  Despite all of that, I have to include this goal if I’m to claim to be unbiased.  That's just how good it was.  In a single movement he took a pinpoint pass from Fabregas on his chest and acrobatically volleyed the ball into the bottom corner.  It provided Arsenal a precious away goal in their Champions League quarterfinal with Villareal, which they would eventually win.

9. Maynor Figueroa vs. Stoke City vs. Stoke City, English Premier League.  I previously went into detail on this goal on WEEK IN FOOTBALL on Dec. 18.  In terms of competitive significance, it will probably matter little in either team's seasons.  But when you score from your own half the way Mr. Figueroa did, you deserve some props. 

8. Andrey Arshavin, Arsenal vs. Liverpool, English Premier League.  On its own the goal isn’t that spectacular.  But consider that this was Arshavin’s fourth goal of the game (the goal in reference is on 3:40, unless you're a Liverpool fan, I recommend watching the whole thing, if only for the hilarious reactions of Reds coach Rafa Benitez).  Consider that this was at Anfield.  Consider that this was only a fraction of an eight goal thriller, a consensus pick for THE game of the season.  Consider that his one-man demolition ended Liverpool's fading title hopes.  Consider, also, the source of the goal: Theo Walcott running almost the length of the pitch at Anfield in the dying minutes to set up the goal, so reminiscent of the drama that ensued almost exactly two years prior on the same pitch in the Champions League.  (By the way, of all the cheesy soccer puns that the PUNdits like to bandy around, I’m surprised I haven’t heard Andrey Arshavin referred to as the Kop Killer after scoring again at Anfield this season).

7. Cristiano Ronaldo, Manchester United vs. Arsenal, Champions League Semifinal.  Again, this was incredibly difficult for me to include this goal here but I’m obligated by either a sense of fairness or self-loathing.  I’m not sure who I hate more, Ronaldo or Adebayor; it’s a close call, like “would I rather die by falling off a cliff, or a really tall bridge.”  If anything, I enjoy hating Ronaldo more: his tantrums, his Eurotrash quasi-mullets, his alleged affinity for prostitutes, etc.  That being said, there was nothing enjoyable about this goal (for me).  With his team already a goal to the good, Ronny (or Euro-Kobe as I like to call him) killed off my beloved Arsenal with this scorching free kick from 30 yards.  Only 13 minutes into the biggest game of the season for my Gunners, it was all over.  Man United had punched their ticket to the Champions League final. 

6. Landon Donovan, USA vs. Brazil, Confederations Cup Finals.  This might be a total homer pick, but I feel it deserves its place here for the following reasons: A) it came in the finals of a major international tournament  B) it was the best goal of the best competitive international match of 2009  C) it was, on its own, a very impressive goal.  I really had to convince myself that it was in fact the US national team I was watching and that it wasn’t a Brazil youth team they were playing.  Ricardo Clark picked up a loose Brazilian pass at his own 18 yard box and played it one touch to Landon Donovan who in turn released Charlie Davies down the left.  Donovan, who continued his run down the center of the pitch, was found by Davies with lovely first time ball before cutting inside of Fernandes and blasting a low shot past Julio Cesar in the Brazilian goal.  Five touches, three players, 90 yards, the ball hardly leaves the playing surface before hitting the back of the net.  Almost Brazilian, I dare say.

5. Cristiano Ronaldo, Manchester United vs. Porto, Champions League Quarterfinal.   With Manchester United needing victory in the second leg of their Champions League Quarterfinal at the Stadio Dragao in Portugal, Euro-Kobe produced this rocket from what Marv Albert would refer to as “downtown,” 41 yards from goal to be precise.  If there was a two-goal line in soccer, he was behind it.  FIFA found it to be worthy of their inaugural Ferenc Puskas Award, given for the best goal in the calendar year.  I like to think that FIFA are dead wrong, but then again, I suppose they don't take pleasure in loathing one of the world’s preeminent players. 

4. Fernando Torres, Liverpool vs. Blackburn.  I had the misfortune of watching the otherwise dire affair between Liverpool and Blackburn.  If it weren’t for this goal, I’d trade those 90 minutes of my life for just about anything; I’d otherwise probably consider this the goal of the year.  Let’s pause time momentarily and go through my train of thought as I’m watching this: “Great first touch, here comes a volley.  No way he gets around it, though; into the stands, surely.”  Torres pulls his leg back.  “Here it comes.  Can’t possibly get it all the way to the far post.  Over the frame or easy save.”  The ball thunders off his foot; you can actually hear how well he strikes the ball.  “No fucking way.”  Robinson flails, the Kop rises.  “No.  Fucking.  Way.”  The net bulges.  “---“  Complete blankness.  Like when Mexican peasants think they see the Virgin Mary.  Everything washed in light, silence all around.  Watching it live was that good.  Unfortunately, it was a diamond in a mountain of shit; almost not worth reaching your hand in for. 

3. Grafite, Wolfsburg vs. Bayern Munich, German Bundesliga.  Relative lightweights Wolfsburg announced their arrival as favorites for the Bundesliga title with a 5-1 home trouncing of perennial powerhouses Bayern Munich.  The win was rounded off by this solo effort from Grafite.  The powerful Brazilian picked up the ball just inside the half way line before driving into the box, splitting two Bayern defenders, then rounding the keeper before summoning the gall to back heel the ball through a host of players in close attention and into the corner of the net.  It's Keystone Cops material, someone cue the Benny Hill music.  Like the Torres goal, had it come in a more decisive situation, it would probably be closer to the top.

2. Michael Essien, Chelsea vs. Barcelona, Champions League Semifinal.  I remember three seasons ago when Michael Essien broke my heart by driving home this late equalizer against The Arsenal.  In his thick Scottish brogue, Andy Gray provided only this as color commentary: “Oh.  Mae.  Goudness.  What an unbelieeeevable strike.”  I wonder what old Andy had to say about this one.  Nine minutes into the second leg of this classic semifinal, a looping half clearance was met by Essien with a full volley.  Reminiscent of Zidane’s 2002 wondergoal against Bayer Leverkusen in the Champions League final, the ball dipped ferociously just under the bar.  A goal worthy of winning any match, and it looked for all the world as if it was going to do just that… well, until this happened: 

1. Andres Iniesta, Barcelona vs. Chelsea, Champions League Semifinal.  Cometh the hour, cometh the man, as they like to say.  The diminutive Spaniard stepped up to the plate to deliver 2009’s goal of the year with Barca only minutes from elimination from the Champions League.  With the outside of his foot, he found the top corner with a first time drive from 20 yards.  Great goals in any game, but the circumstances promote his strike to number 1.  On a larger scale, it prevented a rematch of 2008’s Champions League final between Chelsea and Manchester United and enabled Barca to complete their historic treble.  But the match itself had an entire season’s drama.  For starters, see goal #2, which set up an enthralling 80 minutes of attack and counter attack.  Chelsea should have sealed the win but not for some woeful finishing from Didier Drogba and some even worse officiating: Tom Hening Ovrebo gave a soft red card to Barca fullback Eric Abidal and spent the rest of the match making up the call, waving away three penalty claims from Chelsea, one of which would have been the most blatant hand ball of 2009 had Henry not provided us the Hand of Frog.  Despite all of the post-match protests from Chelsea, Barca moved on and Iniesta bumped Essien for the biggest of prizes: Cup Geek’s Goal of the Year 2009.  I’m sure his mother’s very, very proud. 

If you’re at all curious about FIFA’s take on the goals of the year, you can check that out here.

Next cliché Top Ten: Games of the Year

WEEK IN FOOTBALL Friday, Dec. 25, 2009

Merry Christmas one and all… If you’re actually reading this on the day of, there are some resolutions you may want to consider for the new year.  But thanks.  Thanks very much.  Your patronage is appreciated.  I hope the holiday finds you in fine spirits. 

Friday, December 18 The UEFA Champions League round of 16 draw took place in Nyon, Switzerland.   UEFA managed to offer some drama despite a distinct lack of Charlize Theron, confused look and all.  

Chelsea were drawn with former boss and notorious megalomaniac Jose Mourinho.  The physical evocation of his ego is now named Inter Milan.  And just like Chelsea under his stead, they've spent exorbitant sums to play defensive and boring, albeit winning, soccer.  The Joses currently lead the Italian Serie A by 5 points while Chelsea hold a 3 point lead in the Premier League.  Also of note, Chelsea manager Carlo Ancelotti was previously at the head of Inter Milan's chief rivals, AC.  His record against Inter: 5 wins, 5 losses in the Serie A, but more importantly, a 5-0 aggregate victory over two legs in the Champions League semifinal in 2005.

The other notable draw also sees an English club pitted against Milanese side.  Manchester United are seeking revenge after being embarrassed 3-0 away to AC Milan in the semifinal of the 2007 edition of the Champion's League.  Both lie second in their respective domestic tables, both were strong armed into selling their best players to Real Madrid over the summer (Ronaldo and Kaka, respectively), both feature some ugly, ugly dudes.  

Rooney vs. Ronny...

For the rest of the draw, click here:

http://www.uefa.com/competitions/ucl/news/kind=1/newsid=936052.html

Saturday, December 19  Speaking of Man Utd losing 3-0 away... Man Utd were thumped in Premier League action by Fulham, who were inspired by a rampant Bobby Zamora.  Yeah, that's right, I said it.  Bobby Zamora.  Despite moving pictures and first hand accounts to support that fact but I remain unconvinced.  I just can't believe it.  Bobby Zamora: match winner.  That's like Luda Hoe: vegetarian.  Fundamentally, I don't have anything against the guy, but Zamora's recent success comes as a disappointment to me for this reason: he's killing the best song in soccer.  Before hell turned into an ice rink, his own fans enjoyed reminding him of his deficiencies with this anthem, set to the tune of Dean Martin's "That's Amore": "When you're sat in row zed and the ball hits your head, that's Zamora!"  I'm sure it's a boon for Fulham fans to see him in such a rich vein of form, but all this accurate shooting and competent forward play is depriving the rest of us of a good laugh.  I, for one, am holding out hope for a return to normal service: the touch of a child molester and the aim of Dick Cheney, all at a sloth's pace.  Now that's Zamora!

Sunday, Dec 20 After being fired as manager of Manchester City directly following their 4-3 win over Sunderland on Saturday, Mark Hughes claims he was given “no forewarning” as to the club’s decision.  The despairing blankness he carried on his face through much of the match, however, suggested he either had some idea of his imminent dismissal or he had forgotten his Depends. 

See my term-paper like summation of his dismissal and Roberto Mancini’s hire on Wednesday's post.

Monday, Dec. 21 Leo Messi was named FIFA World Player of Year to go with his FIFpro Player of the Year Award and his Balon D’or (European Player of the Year).  On top of those individual accolades, his team Barcelona won all six competitions they entered.  The La Liga crown was followed in quick succession by the Copa del Rey and Champions league trophies last spring.  They’ve started this season in fine form capturing the Spanish and European Super Cups before recently finishing 2009 by winning the World Club Cup in Abu Dhabi last Saturday.  Champions of Spain, champions of Europe, champions of the World.  Not a bad year for the little Argentine, to say the least.

However, the Cup Geek took none of that into account when choosing his Player of the Year: Bastian Schweinsteiger.  No trophy shines quite like the one he’s been gifted with. 

Her name is Sarah Brandner.  I’m quite certain she is a different species from my own. 

Tuesday, Dec. 22 Did Tuesday even exist?  I’m not really sure.  Here’s another photo of Sarah.  Let’s call it even.

Wednesday, Dec. 23 Cal put me out of my misery by concluding their schizophrenic season with a 37-27 loss to Utah in a bowl game that didn’t exist five years ago and won’t exist five years from now.  The most depressing aspect of this season’s capitulation is the realization that the hope of a Rose Bowl in the very near future has been all but ruled out. If ever there was a year this one was it.  USC won’t be this bad again.  Oregon is good, scary good, and will be so for the near to distant future.  And they’re returning 20 starters from this Rose Bowl team that eviscerated us in Eugene.  And as it turns out, Mike Riley not only runs a more efficient and sophisticated offense than Jeff Tedford but is also a better game manager and motivator.  Despite eight years of foreplay, it seems the climax all Cal fans were expecting simply isn’t on its way. 

Thursday, Dec. 24 Coach Bob Bradley named his training camp squad for Team USA's January 23 friendly against Honduras.  Among this 30 man group are a handful of players even I haven't heard of.  Me.  Self-proclaimed geek of everything soccer.  I understand giving some of the peripheral players a shot at making the South Africa squad, but for many of the players (Kevin Hartman, Zach Thornton, Jeff Larentowicz, Dax Macarty, Marcus Tracy) it just seems downright cruel to let them think they have a chance.  This is setting up kind of like a teen movie where the cool kids invite the outcasts to a "party" only to humiliate them (Never Been Kissed, Happy Gilmore, Carrie, etc.).  Word of advice for Jeff Larentowicz based on pop-culture lessons: I would stay away from any and all late night "traditions" the older guys want to share. 

Happy holidays! 

PREMIER LEAGUE On the Man City saga

Well, "it's all happening now" as they like to say in the Premier League.  I'm pretty sure that's British for "the shit has hit the fan," which it most certainly has. Manchester United and Chelsea are hemorrhaging points, Liverpool fans continue to follow Rafa into the abyss and Bobby Zamora is the league's hottest striker.  So many unlikely permutations at once are usually the setup for a doomsday scenario; it’s like the soccer version of 2012.  

Despite such improbabilities, these events have been eclipsed by what’s happening at Manchester City.  Directly after Saturday's 4-3 win against Sunderland, a game that aptly summarized at once both the potential and frailties of the current City squad, it was announced that manager Mark Hughes had been relieved of his duties.

Former Lazio and Inter Milan boss Roberto Mancini stepped into the vacancy with immediate effect.  Despite reports of Manchester City having struck a deal with the Italian weeks ago, chairman Gary Cook vehemently denied that Hughes had been a dead man walking for weeks, claiming that they had only just arrived at the decision after last Wednesday's 3-0 embarrassment at the hands of Tottenham. 

Regardless of the timing, the important point is that the Welshman is out the door.  After starting the season with a return of 16 points from their first 6 matches, they only managed 13 over the last 11, a return deemed unacceptable by City’s oil rich owners who see a Champions League spot as a minimum requirement this season. 

Was Mark Hughes the right man for the job?  In a word, no, as his record as City manager certainly suggests.  A tenth place finish last season has been followed up by another inconsistent campaign, 8^th so far with only 2 wins in their last 11 games.  What’s even more disconcerting about such a paltry return is the opposition it’s come against.  A home win versus Chelsea was the silver lining in a bleak run of results; City could only manage to draw against the likes of Burnley, Hull, Birmingham, Wigan and Bolton before being thrashed at Spurs.   Not exactly the world beating style of results that the massive cash injection was expected to yield.  

But it’s more damning for Hughes than simple results.  The more crucial assignment of this campaign was to lay the groundwork for a competitive side.  Few can argue that Hughes’ dealings in the transfer market have been fiscally or strategically sound (note that most coaches in England are also their clubs’ general managers, making them accountable for personnel decisions). 

Center backs Joleon Lescott and Kolo Toure were brought in at an expense of an estimated £40m; the pair have yet to yield the desired effect.  City have given up 3 or more goals on 5 occasions this season (Man Utd, Burnley, Bolton, Spurs and Sunderland) including twice in the last week.  Comparatively, the traditional “Big Four” teams combined have yielded that amount 7 times this season.  Suspect goalkeeping and injuries at the back have victimized each of those teams, but up until now, City have been able to regularly play more or less the same back four anchored by the League’s in form shot-stopper, Shay Given.  Despite the stability, they’ve only kept 1 clean sheet in the last 11.  Meanwhile, former Man City captain and now Aston Villa defender, Richard Dunne is enjoying the form of his career.  With him at the helm of their defense, Villa haven’t conceded a goal in the last 360 minutes of Premier League soccer. 

Problems exist further up the pitch as well.  Neither Vincent Company nor Nigel de Jong (at £17m purchase when they could have had him for free five months later) have managed to establish themselves in defensive midfield. 

In attack, over £120m have been spent on Tevez, Adebayor, Robinho and Santa Cruz, but their most productive player remains Craig Bellamy, an afterthought in the squad heading into this season.  Hughes never managed to get the best out of the mercurial talents of Robinho and Emmanuel Adebayor stopped scoring after he began to the show the type of attitude that Arsenal found so readily dispensable, despite his undeniable gifts.  Last year’s best player, Stephen Ireland, has spent most of this season sulking his way across the pitch with minimal effect. 

Apparently, the egos of such valuable talent have proven too much for Hughes who never seemed to introduce any cohesion to the Eastlands club.  One imagines that might require a more demonstrative personality considering the price tags being mentioned. 

All of that being said, the question of whether this decision, at this point in time, was a good one is a very different matter altogether.  Despite all of Hughes’ deficiencies, the short and the long-term aims of the club might have been thrown into serious jeopardy by Chairman Khaldoon Al Mubarak’s decision to go with Roberto Mancini. 

With the January transfer window only a week away, Mancini will only have two match days to assess the squad and determine the areas where reinforcement is required.  The current squad has welcomed 9 new players over the last year, all of whom have featured regularly this season (Toure, Lescott, de Jong, Barry, Tevez, Santa Cruz, Adebayor, Sylvinho, Given).  They are, for all intents and purposes, an entirely new team, one who has only had four months to settle in with each other.  Mancini’s initial comments indicate that these total strangers will have to make room for even more new faces. 

This open door player policy flies directly against the models used by the proven Premier League sides.  Manchester United have only introduced two new players to regular first team roles over the last two seasons (Berbatov and Valencia); Chelsea, only three (Ivanovic, Deco, Anelka); and Arsenal, three (Arshavin, Vermaelen, Nasri).  By this spring, Manchester City, meanwhile, will be completely unrecognizable from their 2008 squad.  If Stephen Ireland doesn’t regain his form, Micah Richards might be the only holdover from the pre-billions era. 

The more daunting transition won’t be on the pitch, however.  Roberto Mancini’s experience with the English game is limited to only four appearances for Leicester City in the 2001 Premier League season.  Moreover, he doesn’t speak English.  This situation mirrors that of another highly rated foreign manager who tried to make inroads on British shores.  In 2007, Juande Ramos had just come off the back of a second consecutive UEFA Cup winning campaign when he took over Martin Jol’s seat at the head of Tottenham Hotspurs.  Just like City this year, there had been massive squad investment at Spurs the preceding summer.  Expectations were stratospheric.  And, just like City, after a wobbly start, their manager bitterly made way for a heralded foreign tactician (who spoke not a word of English) after much speculation to that effect.

Results were mixed.  Ramos did lead Spurs to their first trophy since 1991, but it was, after all, only the Carling Cup.  The situation quickly denigrated thereafter with a series of lackluster league performances.  Ramos was put out of his misery 9 matches into the 2008-09 season with a record of 2 draws and 7 losses.  The reasons for what was ultimately a disaster were manifold, but many of the key ingredients are at play at City:  1) A new foreign manager unused to the style of football being played.  2) Said manager also doesn’t speak the language and has a British heavy squad (City less so than Spurs but there are the likes of Given, Bellamy, Lescott, Barry, Ireland, Bridge and Wright-Philips).  3) Handfuls of new players at every position.  4) Heavy investment yielding unreasonable fan expectations for instant success.  5) An accomplished big brother to envy (in Spurs’ case, it was, and still is The Arsenal; for City, it’s obviously Man Utd.).    

If I were a City fan, I would also be wary of Mancini’s ability to hold the volatile pieces in place.  One only has to closely examine Mancini’s supposedly glossy pedigree to find a sheep in wolves’ clothing.  Though he boasts three Scudetto (the Italian league’s version of the Lombardi trophy) with Inter Milan, the substance behind those victories can only be described as suspect.  In 2006, Inter actually finished the season in third, 11 points back of top spot.  They were only handed the crown after their two main rivals, Juventus and AC Milan, were convicted of referee tampering in the Calciopoli scandal.  The fallout of that scandal also benefited Mancini the following season; Juventus were relegated to Serie B and Milan were docked 15 points, making 2007 essentially a non-competition. 

Moreover, his record in Europe is less than glowing.  In three attempts, Mancini’s expensively assembled side only made it past the first knockout stage once, falling in the quarterfinals in 2006 and these failures led to his eventual dismissal at the end of the 2008 campaign.  What has he been up to since?  Sharpening his trade?  Scouting talent?  Learning English?  Nope, none of the above.  Up until a week ago, he was waiting to sort out compensation for his dismissal.  

Mark Hughes spent the last 16 months trying, and failing, to get the most out of his players.  While he may have not been the right man, there have to be question marks about City’s new hire, who has spent the last 16 months trying, and failing, to get the most out of his former employer.  City fans will hope that their new owners’ seemingly rash decision will turn out to be the stroke of genius that saw the Premier League’s previous nouveau riche, Chelsea, land Jose Mourinho.  But if history tells us anything, City will ultimately be more familiar with the fate of another London club. 

And frankly, as an Arsenal fan, I don’t mind that all.    

Friday, December 18, 2009

WEEK IN FOOTBALL Friday, Dec. 18, 2009

I promise I'll reduce the use of "football" from now on, but "Week in Soccer" makes it sound like I'm covering AYSO or something.

Friday, Dec. 11
In precisely six months, the World Cup will kick off at Soccer City Stadium in Johannesburg when hosts South Africa take on Mexico.


Saturday, Dec. 12
Stoke City played host to Wigan Athletic in the English Premier League, which really isn't news in and of itself.  That's like the Jaguars playing the Texans; unfashionable teams that aren't the best or worst in a contest that will decide nothing.  But then this happened!  Wigan defender Maynor Figueroa beats Stoke keeper Thomas Sorensen from a few yards into his own half.  It's not necessarily an impossible goal—a few other players have scored similar goals in the recent past.  When David Beckham was still a precocious youngster a little over a decade ago, he famously achieved the feat against Wimbledon.  Paul Robinson, a goalkeeper no less, scored on a 70 yard lob against Watford in 2006.  (Now, before you say "Wow, that Paul Robinson must be some player," he is also responsible for this, so… yeah.)  What makes Figueroa's so spectacular, though, is the fact that Sorensen isn't really out of position.  Most of the times when this happens, keepers are cheating off their line a bit.  Unfortunately the Youtube video doesn't show you that Sorensen's only 8 yards or so off the goal line, not unusual place to find the keeper in a situation like this.  Unlike Beckham and Robinson who lobbed the ball, goal kick style, Figueroa has the audacity to drive the ball; from the time he strikes the ball to the moment it hits the net is less than three seconds.  And of course, look where it ends up: perhaps it's incidental from that distance, but he finds the top corner.  Well done, Mr. Figueroa, well done.  Take a bow.

In tackle football news, Tim Tebow came in fifth in Heisman voting by a huge margin.  I danced a little jig in my living room.


Sunday, Dec. 13
Before Arsenal's visit to Anfield, Liverpool manager Rafa Benitez declared that the "season begins now."  Sunday was the 6th time their season has started this year.  And like all the other new beginnings, things sputtered quickly.  Liverpool looked bright in the first half and took a deserved lead through Dirk Kuyt.  But 7 calamitous minutes early in the second  saw defender Glen Johnson score a comedic own goal and Arsenal's Russian circus midget Andre Arshavin fire a gem of a match winner.  The start of Liverpool's season has again been postponed.  When I was a kid on the playground I used to always imagine game winning scenarios for myself (not that I don't anymore): "89th minute, Champions League Final.  Luda Hoe lines up a free kick from 25 yards.  And he… sends it over the bar by a clear 20 yards.  But wait!  The ref has ordered it to be retaken."  In my backyard I could always rewind and start again…. because it's fucking fantasy!  Rafa: your season began in August when everyone else's did.  The Premier League is not a Playstation; you cannot just restart at your whim.


Monday, Dec. 14
World Cup ticket applications hit 500,000.  In case you've suddenly struck an interest in going, you can enter the lottery through FIFA's official site here.  US Soccer Federation Supporters Club Members can get priority for US matches in the lottery, but if you weren't previously a member, it's too late now.  My bad.


Tuesday, Dec. 15
Manchester United's game vs. Wolverhampton Wanderers (yes, that is a team name) was won before kickoff when it was announced that ten reserves were in the starting lineup for Wolves.  Which begs the question: in a round robin format like the English Premier League, is it the duty of each manager to play his best possible team to ensure the competitive integrity of the league?

Yeah, Tuesday was pretty uneventful.

Wednesday, Dec. 16
Stuttgart goalkeeper Jens Lehmann (the famed urinator from last week's Week in Football segment, and geek favorite) was suspended for three matches for needlessly stomping the foot of an opposing player in a German Bundesliga match.  After the game he was approached by a fan who asked for some civility from the player.  Jens' response: he took the glasses straight off the fan's face and walked off with them, only returning the spectacles when begged.  If this man isn't the definition of class, I don't know who is.  More on Jens later.

Also, Landon Donovan provided further proof that challenges just aren't his kind of thing by signing a contract extension with the MLS through 2013.  He's turning into the Van Wilder of American soccer, repeatedly putting off a real career to be the biggest fish in a very small pond.

Thursday, Dec. 17
It was revealed that Landon will, however, be joining Everton on a temporary loan in January.  Maybe Tim Howard can give Landon the "dare to be great" speech that Taj gave Van Wilder.  If the US National Team is to have a chance in South Africa, they need their best player to be playing teams not named after energy drinks.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

TONY PULIS UPDATE

Don't know if anyone pays any attention to the comments—I didn't even realize there were any before a couple of days ago—but in response to the news of Stoke City manager Tony Pulis' naked head butt last Friday's WEEK IN FOOTBALL post, Galen sent along this rather hilarious article in response to my query: "Is it customary for managers to shower with their players?"

This gem of a piece (pun intended), entitled "Oakes 'hung like a shire horse,'" offers what might be my favorite Alex Ferguson (manager of Manchester United) quote of all time.  If you don't follow soccer and don't know who Sir Alex is, let's just say he's not shy in the press.  Sir Alex is famed for quips like: "He (Milan foward Filipo Inzaghi) was born in the offside position," and "I'm such a bloody talented guy, I might go into painting or something like that."  But this one tops them all:  "The sight of Dion Dublin in the showers is magnificent.  I've seen some whoppers in my time, but Dion's is something else."

Another classic from the same article comes from Frank Lampard in reference to then Chelsea teammate Claude Makele:  "It's big!  Is he proud?  Well, kind of.  When we joke about it, he just laughs, he doesn't flash it around like I would.  I'd be everywhere."  So would we all, Frank.  So would we all.

WORLD CUP I am in constant fear for my World Cup prospects, addendum

At Euro 2008, I attended the Holland vs. Russia match in Basel, Switzerland with three of my buddies.  My girlfriend was with us, too, though she didn't have tickets.  Instead, she sat in a bar by herself with hundreds of Dutch soccer fans, all men, all drunk, all certain she, too, was Dutch.  If you've never had the pleasure of being around them, Dutch soccer fans are an infestation dressed in orange.  Following the path of their team, they occupy every available resource until it's exhausted and then, like locusts, they disappear, gone by the next morning.  She was alone amongst this for about 4 hours.  I have a very tolerant girlfriend.  


We would have tried to scalp an extra so she could go but my pal Danny was offered €1000 for his ticket for his ticket only a few days earlier.  I've infected her with at least mild passion for the game, but €1000?  The offer not only killed any hope of her attending the match but it also made it feel like we were smuggling blood diamonds across Europe.  My bag grew heavy with the weight of them before we even got to Basel.  Obviously,  walking into that plague with our gemstones hanging loosely in our pockets was out of the question.  We put them in Dave's man-purse with our money and passports; certainly important articles in their own right but only with the addition of those tickets was "The Bag of Life" truly born.  It was as if we all turned over our beating hearts into a single vessel, invested them into a singular source of protection and care.  Certainly, a risky decision but one we felt we had to take.  Independently, we were vulnerable, susceptible to lapses in concentration, general carelessness and the guile of others.  Together, we were constantly focussed on the bag—that assembly of all things vital.  We each took turns standing sentry to it and whoever was its protectorate was guarded by the other four, only half jokingly doing their best In the Line oF Fire bit.  "At all costs, protect the bag.  Protect.  The Bag."   (Below is a photo of Dave being completely careless with The Bag of Life.  Hey jackass, that's my heart you have in there!)

For World Cup 2010, they're not distributing paper tickets.  Instead, they'll be available for successful ticket applicants at kiosks throughout South Africa starting this upcoming May. This means the buyer must be ALIVE and PRESENT to receive his or her tickets.  Since last April when it was revealed that I my application for tickets to the FINALS was successful, I have ostensibly become The Bag of Life.  I am the sole protectorate of this far fetched dream or ours, one we've invested so much in.  Our collective hope rests not in the safety of a beige man-satchel, but ME, my fragile body and my largely questionable decision making.  Danny has even suggested that I write out a will, "just in case."


As you can imagine, this isn't the salve I need for the paranoia I outlined in the previous post.  It's all the more reason to play prevent, to avoid the Tenderloin, long car rides and open water.  Perhaps this Bag of Life needs some hired protection.  

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

WORLD CUP I am in constant fear for my World Cup prospects

I was running a bit late yesterday morning so I had to take the direct route to work, which means cutting through the Tenderloin.  As much as I try to listen to those who redeem San Francisco's Tenderloin for it's raw, urban vibe and "diversity," I can't get past the feeling that its streets are a prison yard that's open to the public.  Early in the morning, the inmates are released from their cells in the shelters and single room occupancy hotels and are left to mill about the street corners.  They search for cigarette butts, walk out into traffic illogically and without warning and make a general nuisance of themselves to common pedestrians like myself.  The place depresses me.  I know, I know, it's home to working class families that can't afford to live elsewhere in San Francisco as well as many eclectic bars and eateries and it probably looks downright regal when compared to areas in Chicago, Baltimore and D.C…. but I simply don't care.  I hate it.  I'm allowed to hate it.  I'm allowed to find displeasure in having to wonder if someone is alive or not.  I'm allowed to be disgusted by fresh streams of urine and lumps of feces that don't look canine in origin.

All of that being said, I've never really avoided the Tenderloin as a matter of personal safety.  If I have to walk through there to save time, I will.  Most of the area's street dwellers area  a benign form of crazy rather than a violent one, or so I've always thought.  Yesterday dared to challenge that perception… if only for a fleeting moment.  As I was walking down Market just past Sixth St. with my hood up and my headphones in, a short black man with an unreasonable amount of layers on took a swing at me just as he passed.  I was in my own world at the moment, still reveling in Arsenal's win over Liverpool on the weekend, I'm sure.  And suddenly, this lunge.  I panicked.  And yes, I momentarily feared for my life.

You know what I thought of in that instant?  "Oh no, what about the World Cup?!?"  I probably should have been focussed on family or loved ones… or at least my future prospects as a whole if I was to be selfish right then.  But no.  I thought: "What if he has a knife?  What if he blinds me in one eye and I'm forced to watch the finals through blurred and uneven depth perception?  What if I need to have an expensive surgery that will require that I scalp off some of my tickets?  What if?"  I ducked.  He missed (or he was just psyching me out, testing my reflexes, I don't know) and kept right on walking, not even shooting back a glance at me.  I stood for a moment, relieved and examining myself, for maybe the adrenaline was concealing a shiv wound to my kidneys.

This incident concerns me greatly.  Not because I feel vulnerable or my city feels less safe but because it emphasizes the irrational depths of my emotional investment in the World Cup.  I had considered doing either a safari or climbing Kilimanjaro before arriving in Cape Town but classified them as potential hazards that might prevent me from making it to the promise land.  I also won't be doing any of the "extreme sports" this time around when I'm in Interlaken, Switzerland this May.  I went canyoning and paragliding in 2006 but that was, crucially, after the World Cup and at that point could put my life in jeopardy at my leisure.  But right now?  Only six months away?  I'm playing not to lose.  I have a 1-0 lead on life and have decided to pack 10 men in my own penalty area; I've got six safeties in my secondary and am playing a soft prevent; I'm running down the shot clock in the back court each time I get the ball.

God help us all when that final whistle blows on match 64 in Johannesburg come July 11.  There will be a wild Asian man on the loose celebrating his private triumph, no longer concerned with his own safety or well-being.  Until then, I'll be avoiding the Tenderloin.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

RANDOM NOTES ABOUT THE BLOG

-I must have been so carried away by the spirit of Africa instilled by the opening World Cup ceremonies that I forgot one of my own testaments: colored pages make you a total asshat.  Well, maybe they don't make you one, but they certainly contribute.  Like the Bob Marley poster I had in my dorm room freshmen year of college, the rasta colors had to come down.  Old fashioned black on white will have to do from here on out.

-I still can't get used to the idea of having a blog, or God forbid, calling myself a blogger.  When I have the requisite shame to publicize or discuss the blog or hear when I hear the words "your blog," I still have the compulsion to vomit.  It's like in South Park when Stan throws up every time Wendy speaks to him.  Conversation is something that I should embrace if I want readers but I'm so repulsed by the term and what it means in any number of social contexts (eg. am I the Perez Hilton of soccer?) that I can't yet feel comfortable saying the "B" word in public.

-A little poll for the readers:  as an American, does calling soccer "football" make one a douche?
a) Absolutely; it's like white basketball fans calling it "hoop" or talking about "the rock."
b) Not exclusively but heavy usage would certainly imply other douchey characteristics.
c) Fire away, but stop short of "bollocks" or "taking a piss."

WORLD CUP TRAVEL UPDATE This might actually be useful.

Rather than more self-indulgent prattle about men kicking balls, I'll attempt to make this space actually useful.  You see, my obsession with soccer has fostered an obsession with South Africa.  Before 2004 when it was announced they would host the World Cup, I had never really considered it a place I had to go.  South Africa didn't come up all that much growing up in Missouri.  We brushed past it in school—Apartheid, Mandela, Robben Island, here is a picture of a shirtless black child in the middle of a muddy street, South Africa, the end.  And it wasn't as if people in my school were shuffling off to Cape Town for spring break every year.  Missourians, generally, are not the most well traveled people you'll ever meet.  Europe is a stretch.  South Africa is on Mars.  Besides, I'm Chinese; I have my own impoverished homeland with human rights issues to pilgrimage to.  (If I'm rambling, it's all Brad Pitt's fault.  I feel like I have to defend myself for not being previously obsessed with traveling Africa.)

But just as it happened in 2006 with Germany, I have quickly become obsessed.  Thinking constantly about soccer means that I think constantly about the place in which the soccer is occurring.  Now that I have warmed to the idea of going (well, I guess after blogging about it, "warmed" isn't really appropriate; "blowtorched" is more like it), I've delved headlong into the trip planning for our group.  (More on said group later, I'm sure.)  If in the future I ever claim to have taken the lead on the matter out of altruism, know that I will be lying.  Shameless, naked self-interest.  But not in any obvious way; there is no financial gain and the coordination emails are a glutton for my spare time... as are spreadsheet calendars meticulously designed to track the date, fixture, location, tickets and number of people staying at our place.  Certainly, I appreciate that my friends are beneficiaries of my diligence, but honestly it's all for me… so that I can live the World Cup every night from here until landing in Cape Town, so that I can picture the details of my enjoyment beforehand, so that my workday will mean something more than just showing up for the nine hour wait to leave.  And I guess that's kind of why I'm blogging as well; so that I can live it every day thereafter.

To that effect, I have been scouring the internet and wringing my friends of information to fill in the blanks on my scant knowledge of travel in Africa.   I'm what you would call a detail oriented dreamer; if I'm to have an erotic fantasy, I need to first know the thread count of the sheets I'll be rolling around in.  What I have to offer you, my readers and potential World Cup travelers, is the fruits of my rather unhealthy obsession.

Here is the first installment of my travel updates…

Lodging
Note, the exchange rate is about 8R to $1.
If you've just started looking, be warned: take your presumed budget, double it and hope that you can meet it.  After sending out some enquiries to hostels, pensions and budget hotels, the going rate seems to be running around 2-3x peak season rates.  For a night in a hostel dorm room in a centrally located part of Cape Town, for example, that's going to cost around R350-400 (about $45) instead of the usual R150.  Also, if this is the type of lodging you're looking for, I'd act fast.  Of the 5 hostels in Cape Town I contacted, 3 replied that they cannot accommodate me for my request (2 people for June 15-22).  Expect to pay at least R600 per person per night for a private twin room, R900+ for a single.

For this type of lodging, a few sites that will help:
Coasting Africa (thanks for Lauren Levitt for turning me on to this one): Probably the most user friendly resource out there, though unfortunately, you can't  book directly through the site.

HostelCapeTown.com is Hostel World's Cape Town site from which you can actually book.  It yielded some cheap (R200 and under) though not especially well rated places.  Also, there are only a few places that have availability for more than 2 or 3 nights in a row (again, presuming you're traveling with someone) so you might have to bounce around.

Southafricatravel.com is a helpful to an extent but definitely seems like the type of site that's more interested in getting you there to spend your money than providing unbiased advice.

If you're looking for more comfortable lodging, you can do what my group has done which is to secure long term self-catering housing.  For Cape Town, CapeStay is your best option.  Prices are completely dependent on neighborhood: areas on the Atlantic Seaboard nearest the stadium (in Green Point) are the most expensive—Camps Bay, Sea Point, Bakoven, Bantry Bay, Clifton, V&A Waterfront.  Again, the best rule of thumb for this site is to take the quoted rate and double it, though in these neighborhoods you might just want to go ahead and go 3x.  Figures may vary, but here's a ballpark figure from a recent search.  For two weeks in the heart of the Cup, I was quoted R2500 per night for a two bedroom apartment in Sea Point that accommodates four people (that's about $75 a night per person).  Booking typically requires a 30-50% deposit (usually via wire though some take credit).

A more affordable option might be to look to the more distant suburbs for your home base: Hout Bay, Simon's Town, Noordhoek, Fish Hoek, etc.  Fewer apartments, larger houses and for considerably cheaper.  Before we booked our house (a 5 bedroom on the Atlantic Seaboard) I was given pretty decent offers on some large villas (accommodating 6-10) for around R100,000 for the entire month.  If you are traveling in a small group but want to stay in a nicer place, it's probably advisable to a) put a craigslist ad or b) start a comment chain here to make arrangements with other Americans whose plans may coincide with your own.

Of course, these places are further from the action—Simon's Town is a 45min drive to city center—and that brings up the issue of transit…. which I'll get to on another day.

Until then.

Friday, December 11, 2009

WEEK IN FOOTBALL Friday, Dec. 11, 2009

Friday Dec. 4
Charlize Theron induces pleasure for the first time since before Monster by drawing England and USA together.  Time stops.  Geek has moment of clarity, realizes the first USA game he ever watched was against England.  (1993 at Foxboro, 2-0 USA win, Thomas Dooley and Alexi Lalas with second half goals, Bob Levy on play by play, Seamus Malin doing color).  Geek is almost overcome by nostalgia.  "Rosebud."

Meanwhile, town of Rustenburg declares preemptive state of emergency for USA vs. England match.

The other groups tell us: North Korea can go ahead and book their flights home.  South Africa should begin to cope with being the first host nation eliminated in the group stages.  The whole of France should feel guilty about their luck.  Landing South Africa, Mexico, Uruguay is like finding fifty bucks in the pocket of the coat you stole.

Saturday Dec. 5
It's revealed that Arsenal never ever ever stretch or warm up before matches.  4 more players sent to treatment room in 2-0 win over ineffectual Stoke… whose players, despite their performance on the day, could have never seen this coming.  Boss Tony Pulis headbutting forward James Beattie… in the shower… naked.  I think the article answers most of the obvious questions expect for this: WHY IS TONY PULIS IN THE SHOWER WITH THE PLAYERS?  Is this really normal procedure?  I mean, can you imagine Sir Alex snapping a wet towel at naked Rooney?  (Please someone fill me in: Do coaches shower with their teams?  Other than women's basketball, volleyball and softball coaches that is.)

Sunday Dec. 6
Lampard misses a penalty for Chelsea to hand Man City the points.  200m pounds into their spending spree, City's best purchase has been the paltry 8m paid to Newcastle for Lampard repellent Shay Given.  It's said that a good goalkeeper earns you ten points through the season.  At least two points preserved on Sunday on top to man of the match performances against Burnley, Arsenal, Wolves and Wigan means that Given has just about earned his season's keep before the new year.

USA 1 England 0, Howard strikes the first blow by saving Jermain Defoe's penalty.  Check out Tuesday's post for more on Our Tim.

Monday Dec. 7
Rooney sleeps through World Cup Draw.   As a spectator, the draw inspired me to start a blog.  A fucking BLOG!   As a participant, he doesn't bother to set his alarm for the damned thing.  I don't know why exactly, but I find that really demoralizing.

In coed recreational action, Vandelay Industries pulls an Arsenal, letting a two goal lead slip to an inferior team.  Can't lose points to teams like Mojitos and still expect silverwear… or t-shirts, whichever the league decides to give… probably just t-shirts.

Wednesday Dec. 9
Reason #41,  why I love Jens Lehmann.  Click the link to watch him pull the old snake out of the tunnel routine DURING the run of play in a Champions League match.  Used to do this all the time in youth soccer tournaments…  Maybe FIFA can get urinals installed behind each goal for the World Cup.

In other Champion's League action, Arsenal field almost an entire squad born in the '90's.  I've just gotten used to the idea that people in college are born in the '90's but now professional athletes.  Children are getting paid outrageous sums to live my lifelong fantasy (again demoralized).

Thursday Dec. 10
Nothing.  Nothing because nothing ever happens in football on Thursday… one day after Champions League, two agonizing days from league play… absolutely nothing.  Thursday can die for all I care.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

WORD CUP: USA 1 England 0

I'll try to shake and zip up on my penalty jag:

Here's a great headline from Metro UK.  Over the weekend American goalkeeper Tim Howard saved Tottenham and England striker Jermaine Defoe's penalty to preserve a draw for Everton.  Early psychological advantage?  I'd like to think so.  As previously highlighted, English players have been profligate from the spot this season.  Our Tim also stonewalled Rio Ferdinand in the FA Cup semifinals last April.  Unfortunately, we can't just have a shootout for the three points, but do you think  Bob Bradley's going to tell his players they have a foul to give if they need.  The way these guys are shooting, it's like putting Shaq on the line.  There might be situations where it simply makes sense.   

In fairness to Defoe, it was sort of a spooky weekend in the Premier league.  Four penalties attempted.  Four saves.  (Given saved from Lampard, Sorensen from Fabregas, Jensen from Dindane, Howard from Defoe).  How often will you ever see that in the same league on the same weekend?  Once a decade, if ever again?  This might require some serious Googling.

I wonder if Bayern Munich were fearful of catching the pen flu entering their decisive Champions League encounter with Juventus.  They were awarded a spot kick after Juve defender Cacares clearly brought down Olic.  With their campaign on the line, up stepped... Hans-Jorg Butt, the goalkeeper.  With recognized penalty takers on the pitch in Schweinsteiger, van Bommel and even van Buyten, Bayern manager Louis van Gaal must have sensed something in the air.  Kudos to him.  Butt, who used to be the preferred penalty taker for Bayer Leverkusen, calmly slotted it past Gigi Buffon and Bayern went on to secure passage to the knockout rounds with an emphatic 4-1 win.  I'd find the video for you, but I fear the things that might happen to my computer if I Google "Butt penalty."  I don't want the keyboard to catch fire.

Is it June 11th yet?

More on Le Tissier

Check out the sidebar in case you want to see Le Goals from Le God...

CUP GEEK HERO Part I: Matt Le Tissier

Matt LeTissier was an early Premier League hero of mine.  Back in the day (the late nineties) Fox Soccer Channel was known as Fox Sports World and coverage of the EPL was limited to a weekly two hour highlight show hosted by Lionel Bienvenu.  Production values weren't great; the set looked rented, the segments were cheesy, names were mispronounced and Lionel Bienvenu (yes, that's his real name) always signed off with this cheesy, exaggerated "Gooodbyyyee."  You could tell he thought it was really clever, like the next "Good night and good luck."  Still, I recorded the show each week and watched every episode twice.  Because my mother is Chinese, she likes to keep things.  As far as I know she still has these tapes of mine somewhere in the attic (even after two moves and despite not having a VCR).  If you picked tapes out of the box at random, I guarantee you one person would show up in the highlights more than any other.  Matt Le Tissier.  Man.  Genius.  Le God.

For those of you who have never heard of Le God or are fuzzy, I encourage you to Youtube the man.  He wasn't well spoken, he looked like a total goon, kind of like Ernie from Sesame Street, and he played for Southampton which is kind of like playing for the Pittsburgh Pirates.  I mean yeah, you're a professional athlete but… who cares?  But the class he exuded when on the ball, the other worldly goals he scored and the modesty with which he celebrated them were enough to overcome his litany of deficits.  For a time he was my favorite player.  Had a guy named Bergkamp not come along, I could, today, be obsessing over Southampton's standing in League One (that would just be tragically nerdy).

It's good to see Le God resurface for the right reasons.  A year before Andre Agassi came out with his "Meth and Me, a Memoir" it was Matt Le Tissier revealing too much for no reason in "Spread Betting, a Personal History."  But now, more relevantly, he's made headlines for suggesting that England should hire him as a penatly kick coach.  What makes Matt Le Tissier the authority on such a thing?  Well, he was 47 of 48 in his career.  It's incredibly difficult to make 47 of 48 free throws in basketball… and there isn't even any opposition.  47 of 48 is absolutely unheard of.

The timing of his suggestion couldn't be better, either.  Frank Lampard, Ashley Cole, James Milner, Jemaine Defoe and Darren Bent can all count themselves as England players who have already missed penalties for their clubs this season.  And, of course, let's not forget their captain, John Terry, famously slipped on his decisive spot kick to hand Man United the Champions League crown in 2008.

Penalties are even more relevant for England given their predilection for getting themselves into shootouts.  History is not on their side:

World Cup 1990: Semifinals.  Lost on penalties to W. Germany, 4-3
Euro 1992: Eliminated in group stage.
World Cup 1994: Did not qualify
Euro 1996: Semifinals.  Lost on penalties to Germany 5-4 ("Gareth Southgate, the whole of England is behind you!")
World Cup 1998: Rd. of 16.  Lost on penalties to Argentina 4-3 (David Beckham sent off early in second half)
Euro 2000: Eliminated in group stage.
World Cup 2002: Quarterfinals.  Lost to Brazil in regulation, 2-1.
Euro 2004: Quarterfinals.  Lost on penalties to Portugal, 6-5 (Beckham skies his penalty, everyone saw it coming).  
World Cup 2006: Quarterfinals.  Lost on penalties to Portugal, 3-1.
Euro 2008: Did not qualify.

In case you weren't keeping count, 5 of 8 the last 8 tournaments England have qualified for ended in penalty woe.  For them to have even gotten to five penalty shootouts in so short a stretch is, on it's own, remarkable.  To have lost every one?  That's Cubs status right there.

With a record like that, what could it hurt to have Le God on your side?

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Luda Hoe

World Cup enthusiast. Sports geek. Gooner.

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