Chelsea Finally Wins Something (or 'Thank You Guus, Now Go Coach Russia' or 'Gee I Miss Jose')

Speaking of Diving Divas

Oddly, this is in the Scottish league and not in Italy, but Rangers striker Kyle Lafferty takes diving to new levels of ridiculous in a match against Aberdeen:



That's piss poor. Charlie Mulgrew, the Aberdeen player, got the red card. Awful.

Lafferty has apologised, but still. What a twat. Maybe Marcello Lippi can give him a spot on the Azzurri.

Oh, and also:



Go Aberdeen!

First You Get the Women, Then You Get the Power, Then You Get The *Tickets*

I get a lot of grief from my Aussie friends for being an American, stealing away Aussie women, and living the high life in this beautiful country.

Apparently, I also steal World Cup tickets to watch their team…

World Cup's ticket sell-out
May 29, 2009
AP

FIFA says tickets are sold out for the opening and final matches of next year's World Cup, as well as all games involving England, Brazil, Argentina, Australia, Ireland and The Netherlands.

In a statement yesterday, FIFA said the semi-finals and all Cape Town, Nelspruit and Pretoria matches were sold out as well.

Australia has not officially qualified but just one draw in its remaining three qualifiers will see it through.

I really had no idea how lucky we must have been to get these tickets. And, despite the bitching people might read here on “Four Guys, One Cup,” we really are appreciative that we scored these tickets and will root for Australia to go as far as possible.

But, it’s still pretty funny that four asshole Americans have these prized Australian World Cup tickets.

Argentina

I realized that I inadvertently reviewed the Axis powers in my last post. Cool. Well, since I did that, I might as well review a country where many of their war criminals went to hide after the war. Hello, Argentina, where Nazis and Jews are both welcome!

Now, when I think of Argentines, the first four that come to mind are Manu Ginobili, the Perons, and Jorge Luis Borges. I only like one of those four. However, I'm willing to overlook that, b/c the country kicks ass. If I could visit just one SA country, it would be Argentina in a landslide. Such diverse geography, amazing food, beautiful women, great wine, and a laid-back lifestyle. Plus, they gave us the tango and empanadas. I love this country. Did I mention that they have the highest consumption of red meat in the world? What's not to love.

I remember WC 2006, waking up early to go watch Mexico/Argentina at Fado in Austin. I was feasting on Guinness and an Irish breakfast (which I expensed to 3M). Some dude from Mexico walked in with one of those stupid soccer scarves draped over his shoulders, proclaiming his love for his homeland. I eavesdropped on their conversation later, and realized he didn't know jack shit about soccer (and this is coming from a guy who doesn't really know that much about soccer). I cheered with glee when whatshisnuts made that amazing sideways kick to demoralize the Mexicans. Heck, the next week when they played Germany, I honestly wouldn't have been disappointed if they had won. (Why do I like the Nazi countries so much? What the fuck is wrong with me?)

Anyway, I will be rooting for the Argentines hard-core in Suthefrika. I think they should make a bet with the UK. Whichever team goes furthest in WC 2010 gets control of the Falkland Islands forever. Done. No more stupid, pretend wars over them. That would motivate the Argentines to bulldoze through the Cup, bringing it back to this side of the Atlantic. Hell, I may change my allegiance right now. Fuck it, it's official. After the USA, I'm pulling for Argentina! Viva la...whatever.

Keep on keepin' on...

Death to Smoochy -- er, Zakumi

It’s time to talk about mascots. Namely, the official mascot of World Cup 2010, Zakumi.

Now, mascots for international sporting competitions are usually completely, utterly and totally stupid. We get the weird “Fuwa” characters from Beijing, which looked like custey/evil teddy bears, and nine other character abominations throughout the years.

FIFA in particular has been a horrible offender, foisting the worst of mascot abortions to footballing fandom. To wit: Goleo, the ridiculous lion from WC06; Ato, Kaz and Nik (a.k.a. The Spheriks), the weird computer-generated gummy-looking blobs from WC02; and Striker, the lame Underdog rip-off from WC94. (Could Striker be any more anthropomorphically American?)

In 1990 FIFA completely phoned it in, coming up with a stick figure of sugar cubes (or something) in Italy’s colours, with (wait for it) a soccer ball as a head! … and calling it “Ciao.” What the fuck is Ciao? Isn’t your mascot supposed to be welcoming people to your country, not bidding them farewell? (Yes, I know it’s like “aloha” and can mean both, but who really says “ciao” when they say hello?)

But Zakumi? Really?



Look at this fucking thing. It has its hand on its hip — sassy! It’s yellow! It has flowing green hair! And matching green shorts! There are freckles! Wait, is that supposed to be a cheetah?

According to FIFA’s PR hacks, the name “Zakumi” apparently comes from mashing up “ZA,” which stands for South Africa somehow, and “kumi,” which means “10” in certain African languages. Gee, I’d love to have been in the brainstorming session for this one. So, if the tournament were being held in America, would they call him Usadiez?

FIFA tells us that Zakumi is “a Mascot with attitude.” (Uh-oh. Paging Poochie.) But what does that mean?

So what can we say about him? One thing is for sure, Zakumi will be first on the dancefloor and last off it at the biggest party in the world — the 2010 FIFA World Cup South Africa™. He wants to dance and entertain as many people as he can. He is an animator for fans, players and officials, for schoolchildren, teenagers and big kids alike!

…

Zakumi is a jolly, self-confident, adventurous, spontaneous, and actually quite shrewd little fellow. He loves to perform and always follows his instinct and intuition, yet sometimes has the tendency to exaggerate a bit. You will often find him fooling about and teasing people but not in a mean way. He is warm-hearted and caring, and wants to make as many friends as possible.

…

Zakumi’s main priority is to turn the 2010 FIFA World Cup South Africa into one huge, joyful and unforgettable party and show the thousands of international guests the warmth and spirit of the African continent.

He just wants to dance, people.

My god, this is the worst of PR pabulum. I should know; I trade in it daily.

Oh, and wait — Zakumi is a leopard, apparently. And that comes with some occupational hazards:

He does have one striking weakness. With all his energy, he needs frequent rests. Occasionally, in-between performances on stage, he may suddenly fall asleep on the spot at the most random times! But rest assured, these are only short breaks that a leopard of his calibre needs to recharge his batteries.

So we have a gay narcoleptic leopard as our official mascot. Great.

While the cartoon rendering is bad, the live-action costume is even worse. Here he is molesting South African World Cup Chairman Danny Jordaan. Here he is sporting some serious camel toe. But one thing we know for sure is, Zakumi loves the fly girls.

I swear on all that is holy, if this fucking thing accosts me at any World Cup event next year, I’m going to kick him squarely in the balls.

All Whites? In South Africa? Are You Serious?

One of the all white All Whites


Picking up on the tour of possible countries to join us in South Africa, I read an article today about the chances of New Zealand making it to The Show.

New Zealand.

Four million rugby loving people on the most remote country on Earth. More sheep than people. The greatness of "Flight of the Conchords." Kiwis.

For some bizarre reason, the sports team in the antipodes like to give stupid nicknames to all their national teams. The Wallabies. The Socceroos. The All Blacks. The Silver Ferns. Matildas. Boomers. On and on.

THE ALL WHITES????

Yes, apparently, the New Zealand soccer/football team is called the "All Whites."

And, they have a real shot at getting to South Africa. They have already pretty much sewn up the Oceania section and just have to win a home-and-home series against the fifth place Asian team to make it.

To South Africa. The "All Whites" in South Africa.

This is very, very uncomfortable.

Now, supposedly they have that name as a response to the "All Blacks" of rugby union fame, named for their all black unies. Plus, the All Black team, while not all black, do have a very strong Maori representation.

And, yes, New Zealand's unies are all white. But still.

Let's just hope that the Kiwis...um, All Whites make sure that their (possible) South African hosts realize this.

Heckling at the Workplace and Other Such Shennanigans

My dear friend, FST, made a great observation about the poor taste in Italian heckling. This got me thinking about heckling in general. First, I am a true fan of the heckle. I think the heckle-moment that solidified my appreciation for the art was in the top half of the 7th inning at a Rangers game in 1993. To set the scene, the Rangers were playing the Twins and our seats were about 10 rows back from the opposition's batting circle. After two innings of every fan ripping into the Twins, the heckling lost some steam (as you do when you watch a game that is as boring as baseball). The great redemption occured when former Twin great, Kirby Puckett, snuck into the batting circle, unnoticed by all sections nearby...bar one fan. As I dipped into the greatness of stadium nachos, I heard the heckle "Hey everyone! Look! It's FATBOY!!!!" Now, let me break down why this was so comical. First, obviously, Kirby Puckett, was fat. Second, true heckling greatness means fighting the elements, such as boredom. Finally, it was simple, and clean...the most pure form of the heckle.

This brings me to my pontification for the week. Why doesn't some sports related product company, like Gatorade or the likes, do a contest where you can have a superstar come to your office and heckle you. I think this would make for great TV. I can imagine winning the contest and having LeBron James come to my office and yell things like:

• Hey Herrmann! What happened with that type-o? Did your skirt fly up in your face?
• Hey fatty! My three year old can create a better bar chart than you with his crayons!
• (Thundersticks clapping together while he and the whole Cavs team are swaying back and forth together during a meeting) Herrrrrrrrrmmmmaaaaannnnnnn!!! Herrrrrrrrrrmmmmmaaaaannnnnnnnn!!!!
• You shouldn't call those 3rd Quarter results! You should call them SHIT!

Now on to football... I read this article today (http://soccernet.espn.go.com/columns/story?id=649031&sec=us&root=us&cc=3436). I am deeply saddenned by the US ability to hope and pray that good players magically appear on our national team. This article represents the biggest stretch I have seen yet to make this happen. Alternatively, there could be so little to write about our team, that this writer got bored and said "Hmmmm, what international players could I loosely tie back to the US...oh, I see Ronaldo appeared on the Carson Daly Show. Let's see, that puts him only 10 years away from citizenship!"

Team reviews coming up...

Get off your knees ref, you're blowing the game!

Fabricio

Jorge Campos Hates Us

Thanks a ton for all the well wishes on the newest member of the family - and I have to apologize for that awful neon green/Seattle Sounders look. Obviously didn't plan ahead for the first pics.

I'll pick up on FST's country musings with what has to be the most pathetic (possible) entry in this year's World Cup, our favorite neighbors to the south.

Mexico

Mexicans f'in love soccer. I mean that freakin' live for that sport. Anytime a Mexican team, or *the* Mexican team "El Tri" plays in the States, tens of thousands of passionate and drunk Mexicans come out of nowhere to yell Ole, Ole, Ole, Ole.

And they suck.

I've only been to a handful of international matches, one being a USA - Mexico friendly back in 2002 or 2003 at Dallas' crappy Cotton Bowl. Probably 50,000 crazy drunk on Tecate Mexicans and about 1000 white bread yuppies for the US. And the US won in closing minutes. Made for 50,000 very, very pissed Mexicans. I also once saw Pumas play Tigres in Dallas and it was awesome. And, you gotta love their jerseys - with more crazy ads than...well, than a Mexican soccer jersey.

Rumors are that unless they pull a few victories out of nowhere, they might not even qualify for the World Cup. At least they got rid of that no talent asshat Sven-Goren Eriksson as a coach - worked almost as well in Mexico as England.

But, I hope they pull it out and make it to the World Cup in South Africa. It means so much to the Mexican people, especially when they have to play to empty stadiums back home.

Plus, maybe they'll bring some good Mexican beer and excellent Mexican food for the visit.

Congrats!

Father and Son in Green
Originally uploaded by kabl1992

Maybe we should make it Five Guys, One Cup.

Regardless, a hearty congratulations to FGOCer Drew and his wife, Anna, who gave birth Thursday (Melbourne time) to a healthy baby boy, their second child.

Everyone's doing fine, and apparently the squid is sleeping a lot, which should afford Drew many opportunities to blog about, well, football of course.

Well done Team Douglas.

Previewing Nations

I have an idea that each of us occasionally weigh in with our thoughts on World Cup 2010 teams (even some that may not qualify). I'll knock a few out right here. No double reviews. If someone reviews a team before you, tough shit; it's your own fault.

Germany: OK, they kind of have the reputation of being a bunch of racist, intolerant pricks who show no compassion. Also, their history of killing ethnic minorities is not so great. They were against us in both World Wars. So, you might ask yourself, why do I like them? The answer is, I'm not really sure. Maybe I admire how far they've come since WWII (and, if we go back far enough, WWII was kind of France's fault anyway). I've met quite a few and found them to be warm, friendly people. I spent some time in Europe a few years back, and Munich was probably my favorite city that I visited. Their pride, cuisine, beer, and fine-ass, eager lasses are all big positives.

As far as football goes, I admire their physical style of play. They don't pull that pussy boy, fall down and act like you just got raped crap, whenever someone so much as nicks the edge of their cleats. Well, they do a little, but not nearly as much as the southern European teams (we'll get to them in a bit). I also like German names. If Italy had a player named Schweinsteiger, it would greatly increase my opinion of them. Their bruising style and macho attitude is very refreshing. Oh, and Michael Ballack has the best hair of any footballer alive.

Japan: When you live in Korea (or even visit), you quickly learn that Korean children are taught to blindly hate Japan. There's good reason for this, for Koreans. Japan has invaded and fucked with Korea on multiple occasions. Japan traditionally has a more barbaric military culture, compared to Korea's peaceful nature (unless they're hopped up on soju). I've been to an occupation era prison and seen the little coffin-like recesses where Korean nationalists were locked up for three days. At the end of the three days, they would come out paralyzed. Japan basically raped and killed this country into hating it.

Now, I've been to Japan, and I know that things have changed (just like in Germany). However, when you have hundreds of Korean kids constantly reminding you how much they suck, you start to believe it. Now, whenever I hear, "Teacher, Korea good, Japan bad!", I'm like, "Yeah, fuck those guys!" So I blindly hate Japan. Deal with it. I hope they lose and all of their players get the Mexican Flu.

Italy: I hope they go 0-3 in the opening round. I hate their guts. Every time I see Manu Ginobili (he's really Italian) flopping like a wounded duck whenever someone comes within two feet of him, it makes me hate Italy. Grosso, De Rossi, Rossi, Toni, Zambrotta, etc. Those pussy boy pricks with their slick hair and drama queen flops make me want to puke my guts out. This is a sport, not the fucking opera.

Also, how fucking racist can a country be in this day and age? Black players are called monkeys by chanting fans at club matches? Are you fucking kidding me? And a large number of fans participate? Christ, what a crap culture Italy has turned into. I should start a website called whitepeopleloveus.com http://www.blackpeopleloveus.com, with testimonials from condescending Eurotrash Italian football fans, about how much they really love African-born players. If it weren't for their food and their country's scenery, I'd wish obliteration upon them and their hairy-armpitted women.

Portugal: I don't think they're going to qualify, but this pretty much sums up my thoughts on Portugal and Douchebaggio Ronaldo: http://i63.photobucket.com/albums/h155/Jueco/Soccer_boner_confusion.gif?t=1242841410

Keep on keepin' on...

My World Cup Memories

Being a native American, as opposed to a “Native American”, soccer was the fourth or fifth most important sport for me growing up. Baseball, football, basketball, then hockey and soccer.

I tried to play soccer during that post-NASL heyday. But, living in crappy Arkansas, we didn’t exactly have much of a training program for future Pele’s.

For some reason, I remember the 1986 World Cup happening in Mexico, and I even watched parts of the 1990 Cup in Italia – mostly as I had a friend that was really into it.

Like most Americans my age, the World Cup really meant something when it came to our shores in 1994. I was a 21 year old Washington, DC intern living in a hovel with three friends from Arkansas. We had the sweet Sega World Cup 94 video game (Bicycle Kick!), we played the World Cup drinking game at the Briskeller*, and we watched the games on Univision just to get the dude Andres Cantor yelling "¡GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOALLLLLLLLL!" and hear him say “Alexi LAAAAAALAAAAS!” Even though DC was a host city, I could never get tickets.

I watched the 1998 France Cup but thought it was BS that the French won that year – I guess they couldn’t find the white flags and thank God they didn’t play the Germans.

In 2002, for Japan/South Korea, I watched from Dallas sports bars in the middle of the night drinking as much as possible until 2 am, then starting again at 6 am to get around the Texas drinking laws. *Then* having to go to work with a mighty buzz.

And in 2006, I was in Australia, once again having to watch games in the middle of the night, once staying up to watch both the US and Australia lose, then walking around like a zombie the next day at the office. The US sucked and the Australian bandwagon was in full effect*.

But, in 2010, I’ll be there in person and I can’t wait. We’re adopting the Aussies (well, I should be half Aussie by then, so not really adopting) and cheering for our homeland - the USA. I’ll go for England while the others follow their own favourite Euro team.

*Will explain World Cup drinking game at a later date.

* Will explain the Australian sports bandwagon effect at a later date, or Herrmann or Hoover can explain.

Rephaboliki ya Afrika-Borw

Welcome to the fray, Mike Herrmann, a.k.a. Martin Fabricio. I was beginning to worry our esteemed fourth member didn’t know what a blog was.

Mike brings up an interesting point — part of me feels we should all have football names. Problem is, I’ve never been able to come up with a good one. Martin Fabricio is good, although I do believe it originally was intended as a Formula 1 name. But that’s OK. Mike’s and my former roommate Phil had a good one, which was based on an old-school dishwashing detergent and in the Brazilian single-name mold:

Rinso.

He got it off an old-school store sign that was in a local pub. Phil sent me this photo the other day, from somewhere in Newtown in Sydney:



Speaking of names, here is an interesting fact about our host country: It has 11 official names.

According to the country’s Constitution, each of the 11 official languages has an official name for the nation to match:

• Republiek van Suid-Afrika (Afrikaans)
• Republic of South Africa (English)
• IRiphabliki yeSewula Afrika (IsiNdebele)
• IRiphabliki yaseMzantsi Afrika (IsiXhosa)
• IRiphabliki yaseNingizimu Afrika (IsiZulu)
• Rephaboliki ya Afrika-Borwa (Sepedi)
• Rephaboliki ya Afrika Borwa (Sesotho)
• Rephaboliki ya Aforika Borwa (Setswana)
• IRiphabhulikhi yeNingizimu Afrika (SiSwati)
• Riphabuḽiki ya Afurika Tshipembe (Tshivenda)
• Riphabliki ra Afrika Dzonga (Xitsonga)

There you go.

Martin Fabricio (aka Herrmann) Speaks

As this is my first ever blog in my short, but storied life, I shall make it short and confounding. To this end, I have decided that I shall post to this blog entirely under my European football name of Martin Fabricio (pronounced mar-tan fah-bree-see-oh). I'm sorry, there is no fancy Facebook European football name generator for this...you're going to have to use your good ol' fashioned imagination to come up with one if you want to join in the fun. I shall also only use the term football for the US term 'soccer' - we shall call it my pre-World Cup training, lest I have to clarify that I'm not an idiot a million times a day when at the tourney.

First, let me give a big over-the-head substitution clap to my fellow bloggers and travelmates - Ed, Scott, and Drew. Their initial posts have excited the masses like an Australian on The Morning Show recounting how he saw his German friend's bronze medal at the Winter Olympics (ref: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Australia_at_the_Winter_Olympics - quite sad really). Well done.

Next, I would be remiss if I did not include a mention of this article I perused while reading about how the Rockets blew it in Game 7 against the Lakers - http://soccernet.espn.go.com/columns/story?id=647200&sec=us&root=us&&cc=3436. Now, let me tell you why this article does not excite me:

• There is not one paragraph that you can summarize by saying 'this guy is a potential bad mother f-*cker' (note: I am unfamiliar with our rating on this blog, so I shall hold off on the overt profanities - as if using '-*' really throws anyone off or makes it less offensive...I digress).
• I have never heard of any of these people.
• The descriptions of the people they may replace are essentially - 'this guy just might edge out the 46 year old that blew out his Achilles last year and is just back in shape'.
• I fear it may be too late to renew my subscription to Futbol Hoy, the MLS's official league magazine.
• ADDITIONAL NOTE: It can be seen with one look at each of the names that these people grew up in a house with a Neiman Marcus card, a Volvo, and an Italian Greyhound named Scout. How will we ever be good at football as a nation if we aren't generating prospects from every corner of our nation? (Thank you Drew for not only this point, but also the gigantic chicken parma that nearly threw me into a coma while looking at the big belly seahorse - http://www.daveharasti.com/articles/images/seahorse1.jpg - at the Melbourne zoo.)

Finally, to all the 'soccer' moms out there that thought bringing juice instead of sodas for drinks after little league football was a good idea...........it wasn't...next time, bring sodas. (I know I got a few of you with that one...you really expected me to come down hard, but sometimes, a simple reminder also does the trick. Now you know...and knowing is half the battle.)

Fabricio.

Monday quick hits

How about some football quick hits while we’re all waiting for Mike to get off his ass, log on to Blogger and contribute to this here party. (If he doesn’t soon, I’ll start posting as him and make him sound really, really gay.)

• If we don’t get our fill of world football fever next year, perhaps we can try the friendly confines of England in 2018. Apparently FA chief Lord Triesman “emphasised the quality of England’s stadia, infrastructure and the country’s cultural mix in his opening speech.” I’m offended that His Lordship didn’t say anything about hooliganism. That’s part of England’s footballing charm. That’s all of England’s footballing charm.
  
• Only a couple more weeks until the U.S. national team’s next World Cup qualifier. The Yanks play Costa Rica in San Jose on 3 June before heading to Soldier Field later that week to battle the Hondurans. Both of those matches should be interesting, since the Ticos are only one point behind us on the CONCACAF leaderboard, and Honduras trails the Costa Ricans by two.
• Les Bleus have a tough road ahead — 18 August vs. the Faroe Islands. Holy shit, when those two teams get together … bloodshed. No love lost there. Wait, where the hell are the Faroe Islands? Oh, they’re some Danish protectorate. Blech. Wikipedia also tells me their football team is currently ranked 185th out of 207 national teams.

So hopefully Mike will come around. That wasn’t nearly as entertaining as I wanted it to be. However, I think this week I’ll take a closer look at the official FIFA World Cup Mascot, Zakumi. Because he sucks.

It's On

So, we're all off for South Africa World Cup 2010.

None of us are really big soccer/football fans. All like the game, but more than anything all want to go to a big "event."

We decided to try for tickets on a whim - everyone knows it's next to impossible to actually get World Cup tickets. I sent an e-mail to a bunch of guys saying - F it - let's try.

We decided to go for a gamble - pick a country that we had a decent chance to actually win.

The US? 300 million people with tons of expats. Americans love to jump on a bandwagon like the World Cup even though the game has yet to reach maturity. Nope.

England/France/Netherlands? No chance. They have a decent population with a huge following of the Beautiful Game. We could never get tickets for these teams.

How about Australia? Only 20 million people. New to the World Cup - only two trips in the entire history of the comp. Ed lived here. Herrmann lives here. I live here and will be a citizen in 2010. F it.

Put in the credit card details, enter all our passport info, and wait.

And wait and wait and wait.

Until I see $3112.99 AUD ($2,112.00 USD) disappeared from my account.

We had our tickets.

So, all four of us have tickets to the first three Group Round games for Australia. We have no idea where the games will be, other than in South Africa, and we won't even know who Australia plays until December when the draw is announced. But while we're over there for two weeks, we'll see Australia play three other countries, at least one heavy weight, and have the change to grab tickets for other games. Also, to drink lots of South African beer (whatever that is), meet other sport(s) fans from around the world, and experience the "new" South Africa.

And, I have to say I'm excited to go to the World Cup, my first trip to the Dark Continent (is that wrong?), and go to a country that until the mid-90s was illegal for US citizens to visit.

Plus, I get to watch Hoover, FST, and Herrmann *not* get laid on yet another continent.

Bring it on.

One More Year in Korea

This is Scott weighing in, b/c I don't want our little blogaholic to monopolize this thing. I'm starting a new job soon in Korea, which will end right around the end of May 2010, leaving me just enough time to go to Vietnam and pull a Gary Glitter (come on, you know you like that song), before making my way to Suthefrika for the Cup. However, Korean immigration has decided to make things interesting for me.

To quote a real dickhead former president, "I'm not a crook." I have no freaking criminal record, and I have a letter from the SAPD (holale, vatos!) verifying that. But Korean immigration is requesting an FBI check on me now, even though their laws state that I don't need one. Personally, I think it's b/c I look like a fucking rapist in my passport-sized photos that I submitted for my visa. I had to wake up at 8 to go to the US embassy (I usually wake up at noon), so I did what any sane person would do the night before. I got hammered and passed out early, to ensure plenty of sleep. This resulted in an unflattering product from the photo booth at the embassy. I'm sure I can work this all out, but I'm annoyed as hell about it, and wanted to share my frustration with you fine people. Venting helps, since I can't find a damn joint anywhere in this country.

I'm a pretty fucking good teacher, in my opinion, and I love fucking with Korean kids. One of the most fun things is naming new kids (giving them English names). I used to just assign them awesome names, like Hank, Mac, and Simpson (OJ, not Homer). Now, I just write about 15 names on the board, say them all, and make the kid pick one. This is much more fun, b/c about half the names are legit (Joey, Mike, Steven), and the other half are absurd (Adonis, Hercules, Tank). Whatever they pick, they get (and there have been some pretty good ones). That pretty much sums things up.

I feel like I'm also kind of the bum of this group; the black sheep, if you will. I take great pride in that. I mean, with this group, that's sort of like being the worst inmate on death row, but still. Drew is married with a second kid on the way, Ed is a respected PR guy in DC, and Mike owns his own business. I don't really have a respected job, and I'm basically just killing time and trying to see as much of the world as I can before a nuclear Taliban or the Mexican Flu kills us all. As for the perfect burrito that Ed mentioned, well, I know where it is. It's at fucking Freebirds!, and I'm going to murder it when I get back Stateside next month.

I'm excited about going to the Cup next year, but it really hasn't hit me yet. I think when I'm balls deep in some penguin's beak on top of Table Mountain, with Winnie Mandela filming me, it's going to really hit me. I'll youporn it, so don't worry about missing out. It will be glorious! Peace to all!

Keep on keepin' on...

About the Four Guys

In the coming days, each of us will log on and tell you a bit about ourselves, what role we will play in this saga, our hopes and dreams, which country has the hottest women, etc.

But for now I’ll give you the ten-cent preview. Everyone else can take it from there.

Fun Fact #1: Each of our names has only one syllable! Truth!

Drew



Hometown: A place called Hope; Little Rock, Ark.
Current Location: Melbourne, Australia
Occupation: PR/communications for a government agency
Status: The Married Guy, but with a cool wife (plus one kid, another on the way — hell, for all I know his wife’s in labour right now)
Nicknames: Douglas, D-Hut-Doug, Not The Harvard Rapist
Celebrity Lookalike: Jeffrey Jones, a.k.a. Principal Ed Rooney from “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off”
Club Team: Chelski — I mean, Chelsea
World Cup Teams*: Australia (“Because I’ll be a f’in Aussie by the time of the WC”), England (“Because of Terry/Lampard/Ashley and Joe Cole”) [you would have thought Rooney, too — ed.]

Mike



Hometown: Born Chicago, Ill.; raised Houston and Dallas, Texas
Current Location: Melbourne, Australia; formerly Sydney, Australia
Occupation: Owner and founder of Bonza Bike Tours
Status: Single, favours non-Americans
Nicknames: Herm, Herminator, Chachi
Celebrity Lookalike: That dude from “Not Another Teen Movie,” but uglier
Club Team: 1984 All-Stars from Tomball, Texas (“featuring Mike Herrmann, slowest wing in football history”)
World Cup Team: The Netherlands/The Dutch/Holland (“Hot chicks, good, and I like van Persie — the guy just scores”)

Scott



Hometown: Somewhere in northern Virginia I can’t quite remember; Austin, Texas
Current Location: Seoul, South Korea
Occupation: Teaches English to privileged Korean kids; getting run off the sidewalk by old Korean women; travels the world looking for the perfect burrito
Status: Single, with a propensity for cougars
Nicknames: Scoot, Fucking Scott Thompson
Celebrity Lookalike: I have no clue. I used to say Joey from “Friends” (not so much looks, but for demeanour), but I’m not so sure anymore
Club Team: Chelsea
World Cup Team: Germany (“A strong #2 [behind the USA] because I have a man-crush on Michael Ballack, which is why Chelsea is my club team”)

Ed

That’s me.



Hometown: Born Dayton, Ohio; raised Arlington, Texas
Current Location: Washington, D.C.; formerly Sydney, Australia
Occupation: Public affairs/PR consultant/K Street hack
Status: Single, no kids he knows of; is the most amazing and generous lover of all time
Nicknames: Hoover, Shaker, also Chachi
Celebrity Lookalike: Matthew Perry; I’ve also been told I look like Phil “Duckie” Dale from “Pretty in Pink,” but I dunno...
Club Team: Arsenal (because Nick Hornby told me to)
World Cup Team: France (Allez les Bleus! Because, like France, I’m smug and elitist; also, I’ve been visiting France for decades (see reason #1). Bonus: Although I was a fan long before, Zidane’s headbutt — Italy (a.k.a. the “Diving Divas”) totally deserved it)

* N.B.: Each of us is rooting for the USA, because we are all Americans. So don’t go all Republican on us and accuse us of hating on the United States. It would just be really, really boring if we were all Sam’s Army partisans, because where’s the fun in that?

Ed: Dude, Landon Donovan’s gonna score the most goals this year.

Scott: No way, shithead, Altidore is the wave of the future. Did you see that hat trick against Trinidad & Tobago during qualifying?

Ed: Yes, I did, but Donovan’s due. Maybe.

Drew: That Ching guy is a bit of a bitch, though, you have to admit.

Mike: Yeah, true that.

Scott & Ed: True.

Yawn. I’ve listed our second- and sometimes third-favourite teams here. As in, when the USA gets knocked out, this is who we’ll be cheering for. If the USA plays any of them, well, it’s anyone’s guess.

OK, boys ... start posting.

Welcome to FGOC

Wilkommen, benvenuto, bonjour, g’day, etc. Welcome to Four Guys, One Cup, a.k.a. FGOC, which is completely not what you think it is, you dirty-minded whores, you.

No, this blog will document the journey of four average American guys — three expatriates and one ex-expatriate (that’s me) — in their early 30s as they make their way from various ends of the earth to South Africa for the 2010 FIFA World Cup.

Yes. Football. Soccer. Footy.

Over the next 393 days — and beyond — you will learn about the four of us, which teams we’re following, our musings on world events and world sport, the trials of travelling to South Africa from our respective homes, and any other humour we can think of to share. Which will be fun and entertaining for you, because each of us is twisted in his own special way.

But mostly, you’ll be able to peer in as we talk shit to each other.

Disclaimer: FGOC is not for the faint of heart or delicate of constitution. Most of us hope our mothers never find this site. Except for Scott, because he knows I already share everything with her. Ahem.

(But this we promise you: There will be no consuming of excrement involved in this venture. We’re sick bastards, but we’re not that sick.)

Things to expect:

• A massive amount of shit-talking
• Numerous references to “Caddyshack,” “The Big Lebowski,” “Airplane!,” “Shaun of the Dead,” “Hot Fuzz,” “The Simpsons” and other pieces of fine entertainment
• Inside jokes you will not understand (but still will enjoy)
• Jokes about South Africans
• Jokes about Australians
• Jokes about Americans (by Americans, for Americans)
• In-depth and hilarious updates on each of the teams we’re following
• Links to fun and other ephemera
• And much, much more!

There you have it, kids. Come back often as we see the world.