Thursday 21 June 2012

A Very Belated England Football Team Post



Yes, you are all still football widows for the time being.

The one thing on everyone’s lips is that Wayne Rooney has return to the England squad. 

I’m not a fan of Wayne Rooney.  I am a fan of Wayne Rooney’s potential, to be sure, and sadly, it’s a potential that has yet to be realized for England and I’m becoming increasingly skeptical that it will ever be realized.

It may be him personally, or his inability to adjust to England’s game from Manchester United’s, where he routinely averages a goal every two games or so.  I’m not sure.  And I’d be wary to upset the apple cart and slip Rooney into a starting eleven that has done very nicely without him thus far this tournament.

But that’ll never, ever happen.  Rooney carries the Expectations of a Nation on his broad shoulders, where anything else but a cup win with him capping a hat-trick per game will be seen as a failure. 

I anticipated a positive result against Ukraine and a berth in the quarter-finals.  I cannot see England making it past either Spain or Italy.  I hope they do, and as Saturday rolls around, I’ll turn into a crazy, hope-against-hope fan again.  And who knows?  It could happen (it WILL happen… we still believe!)

My feeling is that this is a young team that still needs developing.  It’s unfair to put upon them the expectations that were put on the so-called Golden Generation of Beckham and co.  They had their best chance in 2006 when a young Rooney, still nursing an ankle injury got sent off for stomping on Portugal’s Figo.  I felt they had the talent to win that game, had they had their full team on.  It wasn’t to be and the England squad disintegrated to the point where they failed to qualify for Euro 2008 and put up their worst World Cup showing in 2010.  To put it in perspective, England scored as many goals against Sweden on Friday as they did in all four games in WC 2010.  And most of their opponents weren’t exactly top-level competition either. 

There’s a positive energy to the squad now that’s been absent for the last 5 years or so.  I’m not sure what it is – coaching, new blood or a combination of both.  I feel though this is the squad we can take to the World Cup in 2014 and show very well.


************************************************************************
England 1 – Ukraine 0

Well, England did it… sort of.  With a lot of luck they did it, because they did not play well.  And yes, Rooney scored, but to be fair it was a goal I could have put in, had I been in his position.

It really should have been a tie, because Ukraine did put one over the line, but the officials didn’t spot it.  At least we England fans can be sympathetic toward Ukraine, because fate was against us too in South Africa in 2010.  Can we please put goal-line technology in place now FIFA?  How much more convincing do you need?
I didn’t see the entire game.  I watched about 20 minutes before I took Nick to his doctor’s appointment and got a text about Rooney’s goal as soon as I sat down in the pediatrician’s office.  The doctor and I celebrated and spent 5 of Nick’s 15 minutes talking soccer while he gave Nick the once-over.  He declared Nick to be ridiculously  healthy, with the body of a young Olympic athlete, and sent him on his way with a handful of jelly beans.  England’s play was sloppy at best, frightening at worst.  Ukraine was given too free a reign with the ball.  England should be lucky they weren’t playing Spain or Germany, because either team would’ve punished them in short order.


Steven Gerrard

Okay, I’m officially eating crow now.  I was dead-set against Gerrard being included in this England line-up.  I think everyone was.  Gerrard is old and hasn’t been healthy in a long, long time.  Further to that, Gerrard represented the notion that England was clinging to the promise of the past a little too long (Frank Lampard anyone?).  I mean, it’s not like England doesn’t have midfield options, but they don’t have anyone quite like Gerrard, who can move so fluidly between offense and defense.  Two assists and two Man of the Match awards in three games, engineering vital set piece plays, and being an all around great captain.  He’s been a bright star, all that much brighter for someone whose best days are decidedly behind him.








Defense



England has a confidence defending in the box that I haven’t seen in ages.  It’s a good thing too, since Roy Hodgson’s primary strategy is to play 8 in the box and let the opposition try to hammer them down, and then counterattack when the time is right.  Goal line saves by resident adulterer and alleged racist John Terry certainly doesn’t   This strategy is meh at best.  I’m not a fan, and would rather see England adopt a more balanced attack, albeit for purely aesthetic reasons.  But it seems to be doing something, since England has had an impressive record in this tournament.  Whether England continues this strategy against top level competition remains to be seen.  I shudder to think they will


Joe Hart



Let me be blunt:  England would not have made it out of the group stage without Hart.  He has been that important.  The France game for sure would have been a loss, and I'm quite certain Ukraine would have been either a tie or another loss.  England hasn't seen a keeper like him since David Seaman, and he still has a good 10-15 years ahead of him.  A winning team is anchored by a good keeper.  This is a good start.



vs. Italy

England drew Italy.  Their other option was to draw defending champions Spain, who are looking quite comfortable right now, drawing a fighting-behind-closed-doors France.

I've got a good feeling about this game.  Italy is an old squad, while England is primarily kids, with a few vets thrown in.  Italy is a defensive side, and so is England.  Oddsmakers have them virtually even.  Balotelli will be the wild card for Italy.  When he plays well, there are few better.  But he is a prima donna and prone to erratic and bizarre behaviour.  I'll be bunkered at the King's Head Pub on King St. in the Exchange District this Sunday.

Come on Eng-er-land!!  Who are you pulling for this tournament?  Or could you care less?

Thursday 14 June 2012

A Quick Euro 2012 Thought...

... to those who find soccer boring and/or irritating, normal blogging will resume in July.

Ireland are the first casualties of the tournament, and that's really no surprise.  But it's been an absolute blast having the Irish fans there.  And we England supporters can take note what real support means.   When your team is trailing 4-0 and a tournament exit is in sight, you should not, at that moment, lay blame, look for scapegoats or boo your players off the field.  They will catch shit, no two ways about it.  But in those last few moments, they should be applauded for taking on the enormous pressure of pulling on the shirt for their country.

Ireland got battered by Spain today.  And their fans responded by belting out 'The Fields of Atherny'.  It gave me goosebumps.



So long Ireland, hopefully until the World Cup.  And Shay Given?  Don't sweat it, you're still one of the best Newcastle players to put on the gloves.

Monday 11 June 2012

Euro 2012: Match 1 England v France




England 1 v France 1



Every major tournament is like this.  I wax philosophical about England’s place in world soccer stage now, that their light is diminished among the brighter lights of Spain, Germany and the Netherlands.  Their ideas are old, their squad too riddled with injury, their appointed-at-the-last-possible-second manager too ancient to take this tournament.  And the closer and closer I get to kickoff time, the more child-like I become in my belief that England will triumph against all odds over the forces of evil.

As the whistle blows and the clock starts ticking, I become giddy again.  And that’s a good thing.  England has a charming football song called ‘Three Lions (Football’s Coming Home)’ that describes this very thing.  England famously underachieves, but when it comes time, it’s okay to give yourself over to impossible hope and just cheer your heart out and live in that shiny, brief moment in wonder and glory that makes the inevitable disappointment worthwhile.

Roy Hodgson craves simplicity in England’s play and with a definite emphasis on defense.  Suits me.  England scored all of 3 goals in all of the last World Cup so I think it’s safe to assume that goals are not going to be England’s strong suit. 

England was happy to let France come at them and counterpunch when the timing was right.  It wasn’t brilliant.  But it was sound.  France couldn’t break down England’s back four, and even when they got a good shot away, Joe Hart was there to mop up.

By far, the man of the match (apart from Hart, who made at least 3 game-saving stops) was the ageless Steven Gerrard, who seemed to marshal both England’s defense and offense, putting through some majestic through balls to Milner (who missed an open net around minute 15) and Young as well as orchestrating the set piece that saw Lescott scoring from a free kick.

The Pros:

England’s defense was nothing short of brilliant.  I truly believe that France threw everything they had at England’s defense and apart from Nasri’s wonder strike, they came up empty.  Of course, Joe Hart played his part too, and played it well.  He made a brilliant stop off a French header in the first half that in many other instances would have been a goal.

Gerrard’s midfield play was also fantastic.  For a man written off as too old and beaten up (by yours truly as well), he stepped up to the plate and quarterbacked England’s meager offense into a goal and what should have been more. 


The Cons:

England’s strikers were non-existent.  I mean that.  I don’t recall Ashley Young’s name being mentioned once.  For all of England’s emphasis on defense, they need strikers who can put the ball in the back of the net when the opportunity presents themselves.  

And England's crossing?  Oh God, the crossing.  It was bloody atrocious.  More than a few crosses into the box sailed way past the far post.  England is, has and always been a cross from the wings kind of team.  If they can't do that, they are going to have big time problems.

But England's passing has been their Achilles' Heel.  England smacks of a team that is woefully underprepared and it showed this afternoon.  Apart from a couple of series in the second half, I was hard pressed to remember if England strung together more than a few passes in a row.  More than once, a pass back to Hart was understroked, forcing Hart into very compromising positions.  Other times it was the midfield who turned over the ball after a mistimed pass.  It's as if half the team is playing one system and half the team is playing the other.


The result:

I think most England fans will be (or at least should be) happy with the result.  I certainly was bracing for an England loss, especially when looking at England’s abysmal record against top flight competition over the years and France's solid rebound after a dismal World Cup.  It was England’s toughest game in the group stage and they got a point.  It was dull as dishwater, but Hodgson isn't playing for the fans.  He's playing to get his team advanced.  He took a step in the right direction.  

Do I think this team is going to get past the quarter-finals?  A lot depends on who they draw, of course, but I can't see it happening, to be honest.  A lot of it is going to come down to how Hart keeps goal (brilliantly, thus far) and if Wayne Rooney finally will rise to the occasion and play good football for England.  He is in his prime right now, and it is his tournament to show the world he is Christiano Ronaldo's equal.  2004 he was too young.  2006 he struggled mightily with an ankle injury.  2008 England didn't qualify and 2010 they didn't live up to expectations.  I think this will be Rooney's final chance.  He may have a place in 2014, but if Rooney has a bad tournament here, it think it is time for England to develop other options.  He is currently sitting out a two-game suspension.  We will see.


















Tuesday 5 June 2012

A Day in the Life: June 4. 2012





5:10 AM – I’ve fallen asleep on the couch again, watching Youtube on TV.  This is not a good habit to get into.  I strain and peer to try and see the clock but I cannot see the time without my glasses.  I pad the coffee table for them, put them on.

Damn.  Too early to get up and too late to fall back into deep sleep.  I plod to the bathroom to pee, plod to my bedroom and doze until the alarm clock goes off.


5:45 AM – The alarm clock goes off.  I hit snooze and try to wring every last drop of sleep out.  It’s of little use, but I try nonetheless. 


6:00 AM – I plan to have a bite of breakfast before work as I always feel better when I do, but I get distracted reading emails and Google Reader.


6:20 AM – Oh shit, I gotta get moving.  Brush teeth.  Put on clothes.  Run out the door.  No breakfast.  I stuff two apples and leftover curried bean soup into my lunchbag.


6:27 AM – Catch the bus to work.  It’s the same 3 people every day when I get on.  Cute young Asian woman, who looks up from her book and smiles at me every morning.  I smile and nod back, frowning a little on the inside when I see her wedding band.  Next is a middle-aged native woman, who is nice enough, but will chew my ear off the entire bus trip, so now I wave and smile, but keep my distance.  The third is a sullen man in the back, wearing a construction safety vest and ridiculously loud bass booming out of his headphones.  We never acknowledge each other.  I read a couple of stories out of Kurt Vonnegut’s Welcome to the Monkey House.


6:45 AM – Get off the bus, and leg it the remaining 5 minutes to the office.  The first person I always see is Svetlana, our receptionist from Russia with the thick Boris dahling accent.  She is young and very nice and we banter a minute before I get to my desk.


10:30 AM – I have been snowed in with paperwork and invoices all morning and I can scarcely believe it’s this late.  I go for a walk to the Wal-Mart, which is about 5 minutes away and buy pre-cut, pre-washed broccoli and canned pasta for lunch.  I make a mental note to set aside 10 minutes to make my lunch before I go to bed tonight and I also note with bemusement that I’ll get lazy and I won’t bother. 

1:00 PM – Now there is virtually nothing to do.  The classical music playing on our small office radio is making me drowsy.  It’s liable to be like this for the rest of the day.  My workmate in the office, Stan, only works part-time and has gone home for the day.  I’m all by my lonesome in my corner of the building.


4:45 PM – I walk in the door and resist the urge to sink into the couch to play video games until midnight.  I survey the place; it’s like a toy-filled bomb went off in here.  I can’t rest now.  I’ve got to make supper, go for a jog and head out to Nick’s soccer practice.  I put a chicken breast with a splash of olive oil in a pan and set it to medium.  I wash some dishes while it cooks and set up the rice cooker.  While that’s going on, I do two loads of dishes and change into my jogging gear.  The rice is done, so I cut up the cooked chicken, add some frozen veggies and throw it all in a pot with a few dollops of one of a dozen half-filled bottles of sauce I got in the fridge.  I think it’s some kind of rib sauce, but I’m not positive.

5:30 PM – I go for a jog, debating on whether or not to run the 5k route or the 3k route.  I’ve got a lot to do tonight, so I opt for 3k.  The route takes me near my ex-wife’s workplace, and I worry about bumping into her.  I don’t want her to think I’m showing off by running near her workplace, but at the same time, this is the most convenient route for me; no busy streets to cross and lots of shade from trees.  For this reason, I keep this route and let her think what she wants to think.

6:00 PM – I eat supper on the couch, shoveling in chicken and rice with a big spoon right from the pot I cooked it in.  I annoyingly realize the pot is too hot to set down anywhere, least of all my lap.  I eat while holding the pot in the air in front of me by the handle.  This is really awkward, but I don’t want to get up; I’ll just eat really fast.

6:45 PM – I’m at the field for Nick’s practice.  I’m the only one here.  I’m paranoid that I’m in the wrong place.  I text my ex and yes, this is the right place.

7:00 PM – Nick and two other boys from his team are here, but no one else.  The coach doesn’t show up, nor does she message or call anyone.  We watch the boys play in the park for an hour, before I leave.  I observe, with more than a little Schadenfreude how cool and distant the ex and her new fiancĂ©e are with each other.  They don’t sit together.  They don’t hold hands or show no affection toward each other at all, and that is not par for the course for my ex.  Then I put it out of my head.  It is none of my business.

8:00 PM – No one else shows up and we go our separate ways.  I kiss and hug the boys good night and head over to a pub to meet up with a couple of friends.

8:30 PM – We have a beer at a tavern I’ve never been to before, even though it’s been around for nearly 20 years.  They carry good local brew, but at about a dollar a pint more.  The ambiance is nice, but nothing special.  A dozen other places in town have the same beer and ambiance, and it’s cheaper.  We order another round, and they forget about us.  There are literally five other people in the place.  We try to flag the bartender, but he’s busy surfing the web on his laptop.  We get fed up, get up to pay the bill and tries to bill us for the second round.  After a minute of ‘discussion’, and the other people at the bar sticking up for us, we pay for one round, no tip and hit the road.  He scowls at us.  We won’t be back.

9:00 PM – We head over to our usual watering hole.  We’re greeting by our usual good-hearted, if spinny waitress.  We sit on the patio and chat peacefully while the sun sets.

9:45 PM – A van pulls up in the parking lot and some woman, who looks exactly like Snooki from Jersey Shore if she were 25 years older and about 80 pounds heavier spills out onto the pavement.  She is shouting at another car in the parking lot a full five minutes after that particular car drove away.  I don’t know and I don’t want to know.  I only hope she isn’t going to sit on the patio.

9:50 PM – Yup.  She’s sitting on the patio at the next table over, her and a man who looks about 25 years older than her.  She tells everyone in a loud voice that he is her neighbour who was good enough to drive her to cash her cheque, so she’s buying him a beer.  He looks a lot like Jasper from The Simpsons, says nothing, looking straight ahead.  I’m wondering intently what his deal is.


10:00 PM – Snooki Sr. is starting to hit on me.  I think it’s only because I’m sitting closest to her, and her being drunk (and God knows what else) rather than any je ne sais quoi I may possess.  I try being gracious and polite but my gut tells me that that isn’t going to work here.

“Hey cutie, you like to party?  You got beautiful eyes, you know that?”  She is really drunk.  My two friends talk amongst themselves, creating a bubble within, and leaving me to fend for myself.  They look over at me, their eyes smiling, thankful it isn’t them.

I tell her I’m flattered, but I’ve got to get up early for work tomorrow.  It isn’t a lie.  “Hush baby, you can sleep at my place… it’s all good, I won’t kick you out.” she tries purring at me, but it comes out sounding like a slurring mess.


10:10 PM:  She latches onto someone else for a few minutes, before him and his girlfriend get up and leave.  She immediately turns back onto me.  “Hey honey,” she slurs “Give me a smile… I don’t bite… well… not much HAHAHAHAHA!”  Jasper, the neighbour, continues staring straight ahead, pretending to be intimately interested in a billboard on the street.

“I know what boys want.  I know what all boys want.  You wanna see them?”  At first I don’t realize what she’s talking about, but soon, it’s clear enough.  She’s trying to get her tits out.

Except she can’t. 

She’s wearing a very professional-looking button-up blouse and she’s too drunk to work the buttons properly.  I emphatically DO NOT want to see this woman’s tits.  My friends are barely able to contain their laughter.  Thanks a lot, assholes.

“Please, it’s okay… I’m not interested, and I don’t want you to embarrass yourself.”

“What… are you a fag?  All the boys love my breasts, and you’re… gonna see them… and you’re going to love them too.”  She’s trying to talk seductively, but she’s speaking like she fell out of a tree and hit her head.  And she’s still struggling with the buttons on her blouse.  As sad and pathetic is this little attention-seeking stunt is, I’m trying hard not to laugh.  I look over at Jasper, and he just shrugs and holds up his beer bottle as if to say ‘this is all I’m here for, man.’

Sweet Jesus.  I’m actually holding up a hand to my eyes, averting my gaze.  She’s got her blouse buttons unbuttons, and now she’s trying to get her tits out of her bra. 

“Excuse me ma’am, you’ll have to leave the establishment.”  It was the bar manager, making the save.

Thank freakin’ God.  I was expecting a Jersey Shore-style public spectacle, but he just led her outside and her and Jasper walked away, with her shirt still wide open.  It looked like she was sobbing quietly. 


10:45 PM.  I finish my beer and call it a night.  It’s a ten minute walk to my apartment and the night air is cool and refreshing. 

11:00 PM  I get into my apartment, strip to my underpants, and turn on the TV.  I find nothing interesting, so I open my laptop and catch up on my Youtube subscriptions.  As I doze off, I realize that I didn’t make lunch for tomorrow yet.  I’m too tired to get back up.

I’ll do it later.  

Sunday 3 June 2012

ipad Shuffle: Your Future in June.



Shamelessly stolen from Maria from Just Eat Your Cupcake. Take it away...

Rules: Easy peasy. Just put your ipad on shuffle and answer the questions in this order when the songs come up. I dare you to just do one or two if you don't want to jump in for the whole thing.

Thanks. All clear? Here we go!

1) What will your love life be like during the first part of June?
I by The Velvets. Well that’s depressingly pathetic and lonely, but more than likely true.

2) What will your love life by like during the last part of June?
Creatures of Love by The Talking Heads. That’s better. At least it’s more than just ‘I’.

3) Family life in June.
Jaguar by The Who. The boys can move like jaguars, and can fight like them too, when they take a notion to it.

4) Other family life....family that doesn't live with you.
Liddy Buck by John Stewart (no link... sorry!). I don’t know a Liddy or a Buck, but we aren’t a close family, so who knows?


5) Eating habits in June.
Spiralling Shape by They Might be Giants. Like pasta? Sounds like pasta. I don’t eat much pasta, but it’s cheap and filling and easy to make (the packaged stuff anyway). Ate it all the time in university. I hope I’m not so poor that I have to eat it all the time again this month.


6) Workplace in June.
Emelina by Nathan. Hmm. I don’t know anyone named Emelina. According to the song she ‘burned the whole damn kitchen to the ground’. While I’m somewhat ambivalent to my work, I don’t want no one burning it down either.


7) Getting along with friends in June.
Truthfully by Lisa Loeb. Oh Lisa, I always hoped we could be more than friends. Can we please be more than friends? What’s that? Oh. No no, that’s okay, I understand. Really I do. *sigh*.

8) What your co-workers will think of you this month.
Begin by The Wailin’ Jennys. Begin what? Begin taking my work seriously? Grow up? Never!


9) What you think of your co-workers this month
Being for The Benefit of Mr. Kite by The Beatles. Well, sometimes I do work in what seems like a circus…


10) What your sex life will be like in June.
Sister Don’t Cry by Collective Soul. Well this has gotten bloody awkward…


11) What your arguments with spouse will be like in June.
Pineapple Heart by Bela Fleck. My ex-spouse and I don’t argue. I’ve long given up trying to make her see reason.

12) What strangers think of you when they walk by you in June.
Hazy Shade of Criminal by Public Enemy. I do have a past. But criminal is something that people do NOT think of when they see me.

13) Weekends in June.
Travellin’ Band by CCR. I’m not in a band, and I have no travel plans. We are planning a pub crawl for the opening weekend of Euro 2012, but that’s about it.

14) Name five important people in your life. This song describes your June with them.

Nick:
Never Let You Go by The Five Discs. No I won’t, at least not until you grow into manhood.


Gerry: Pay the Man by David Lindley. I love you son, but it would be nice when you get older to pick up a check once in a while.


Heather (my sister): Wild is the Wind by David Bowie. All respect to my sister, I love her very much, but wild she is not.


Uncle Fred: Ritual by The Pursuit of Happiness (sorry, no link again!). If we can perform a ritual so Newcastle United can win the league title, then let’s do it! Here is an alternate song from TPOH, which probably contains one of the best lines in song ever: 'Kiss me like you'll never see me again, my angel'.


Karly (my 12 year old next door neighbour): I’m Only Happy When it Rains by Garbage. Kiddo, you’re happy ALL THE TIME. I’ve never met such an effervescent kid. And you are a good soccer player. You just need a little confidence.


That was genuinely fun. Gotta do that again sometime. Good night all.




- PW




Drinking the FREEEEEEE Strawberry Pop and Eating the FREEEEEEEEEEEE Soda Crackers

This is about the 20th time that Gerry and I have watched this, so I'd thought I'd share with you too.