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