So you want to join a soccer pool!

You do, I know you do. You just don’t know where to look. Don’t worry, my dear, dear, readers, I have found a pool for you! Not just a pool, the pool.

Obviously, I am entering it myself. So, see if you can outsmart my soccerisms (spoiler alert: you can’t).

Anyway, it’s $20 and you can enter here:

http://www.roecken.ca/pools/euro2012/

You can also follow on Twitter here: @europool2012 and “like” on Facebook here: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Euro-2012-Soccer-Pool/212685358815812

So, you know what to do.

In other news, hey, remember when TFC won? So here’s my problem, the first win I saw at BMO (lately) I was wearing this:

(only picture I have, skirt not included)

It was for the Vancouver cup game (I missed the first one because of my tonsils). Anyway, I decided that the sweater was lucky and I should wear it every game. So I did on Saturday. And they won.

So, for the rest of the summer I will be risking heat stroke for my love of TFC.

YOU’RE WELCOME.

Hopp,

scm.

#Nesta4TFC

Today I received my “CSA Centenary SS Jersey Jersey” (that’s what it said on the shipping label anyway; I don’t know what SS means or why there’s two “jerseys,” but whatever, I will refer to it as it’s official shipping title). I have to say, I love it:

(Yes, my webcam isn't great, I know, but look how happy I am!)

 My only problem is I got a M and I should have bought a S. So, if anyone wants a tradesies… If not, I’ll just pin it in the back, the female solution to jerseys.

Anyway, great shirt. I mean, it’s no this:

(Seriously, I love this. And refuse to recognize their normal new-non-CSA-Centenary-SS-Jersey-Jersey jersey. Hey! We're up to three jerseys now!)

But, I like it all the same. Very smart!

Anyway, that was just a prelude to this post, which has absolutely nothing to do with the prelude. I am on to another campaign folks! But hear me out, this may interest you:

Q: What’s black and white and red all over?

A: An Udinese supporter and Juventus supporter united over Alessandro Nesta.

That’s right, the new campaign is to bring Nesta to TFC. Why? Because we need him. Now, I understand that financials for TFC may not make that possible (that’s a lie, I don’t understand anything about financials!), so me and a Juventino have decided to team up and start a #Nesta4TFC fund. And we’d like you to contribute.

So far, we have $0. Actually, probably less now that I’ve bought a piggy bank for funds (Branden, I dipped into our Nest-a Egg by the way…)

Nest-a Egg. I’m awesome!

Anyway, I’m sure over the next few weeks we’ll be selling it over Twitter, so look for #Nesta4TFC from me and @B_Like_Fonz. You know, until he signs with NYRB.

But, until he does, let’s try for this:

(thanks to @digger3210 for finding me a picture to use! I mean, it's totally legit!)

Fun fact: this is the moment where Branden regrets our partnership on this. Anyway let's keep the focus: #Nesta4TFC! 

Oh, hey, and also, see you all next Wednesday! I’ll be the one with the really big smile :D! Until then!

Hopp,

scm.

Post script: Nest-a Egg! I crack myself up. God, I’m brilliant!

Thank You

Dear Udinese,


Thank you. See you next season.

ALÈ,
scm.


Post script: hey guess what, still smiling:

xoxo.

We’re back, baby!

It’s true! “We’re” being me and the rest of the staff at 90 Minutes of Hopp (me) and “baby” being you (especially you).

You’d think with everything that’s been going on lately, and me being home for a week, I should have lambasted you with blog post after blog post. Well, you thunk wrong. You’d be surprise what a diet of morphine and children’s Tylenol does to a person (spoiler alert: it makes you non-functional). However, even though I feel just as shitty as every other day, I am also self centred enough to realize that you guys miss my wit, charm, and Photoshop jobs. So, even in my pain, I continue to give.

Lucky you!

For those of you who don’t know, a week ago today I had my tonsils removed in a throat operation (which people tend to take more seriously than if I just say “I got my tonsils out… LIKE A CHILD”). The operation went well and I cannot thank the staff at North York General Hospital enough, they’re fabulous (and thanks to all the love and support from the North York General Hospital Foundation too!) However, it wouldn't matter even if God Himself removed my tonsils, the recovery is going as terribly as expected.

It is not a fun operation when you’re 25.

Despite that though, you all have been wonderful. The emails, bbms, sms, tweets, Facebook posts/messages, bag of popsicles, and occasional phone calls (guys, seriously though, I can’ talk) have been amazing; thanks so much for being concerned that I am now 0.0001 less of a person. And thank you especially to Rachel, who has been so wonderfully mothering in the I-care-that-you’re-in-pain-and-I-want-to-make-it-better kind of way, and not the you-left-the-ice-out-on-the-counter-and-now-it’s-melted-everywhere-you-idiot! type of way.

Also, don’t let my upbeat nature fool you, I’m actually extremely miserable.

Now that we got that out of the way, let’s get on to more important things:

Table of Contents

Toronto FC

May 26

The Blues

Champions League

Sunday, Sunday

Holy, shit! The Euro!

Gosh, you look pretty!

***

Toronto FC

Another open letter

Dear Toronto FC,

I’m sorry. I’m sorry I let you down. I’m sorry I missed your last two games. It’s not my fault, it’s because I cannot stand for long periods of time without doubling over in a heap (seriously, you should see the bruises). However, I feel like I’ve let you down at a time when you needed me the most. Arrogant? Of course, it’s part of my charm. However, when I watched the last two games from home (and believe me, I watched), the amount of empty red bucket seats was heartbreaking. You deserve better.

I know everyone keeps talking about how the “fans deserve better,” but, let’s face it: a real fan knows what they sign onto. As I recently told my big brother, “unconditional love to a shitty soccer team is the only emotion I have ever been taught.” But you’re not a shitty soccer team; there’s greatness in you. I know there is. And, ask around, I’m never wrong.

So, come on boys, pull your boots up, put your heads down, and get it done. I expect a victory on my return to BMO. Because I have 100% confidence that you can. Just do what you did against Montreal, but, you know, in MLS.

Thanks. Also, the new kits really bring out your eyes.

Love always,

Sonja Cori Missio

Post Script: Speaking of which…

May 26^th

I’ll be back at BMO! Full force. Full facepaint. Full one-piece-spandex-suit. Full smiles. Come say hi!

Actually while writing this I received the Toronto FC Insider email thingy reminding me that the next home game is May 23^rd. I’ll be there for that too! Oh, boy! Soccer is coming back!

Speaking of which…

The Blues

This happened:

(You can tell it’s not actually me from the lack of being knocked knees)

I ordered one in a morphine induced high. But now that I sobered up, I’m quite pleased I did so. Once again, I wish they had made it in “Girls,” but, you know me, I’ll use any excuse to buy a new jersey. And I do prefer blue to red.

Speaking of which…

Champions League

Remember when I said the Blues would win it all, and you all laughed at me? And mocked me? And that one guy made me cry? WELL WHO’S LAUGHING NOW?

Answer: me!

Or, it will be the Germans (just joking, Germans don’t laugh!), but we (we = Chelsea, duh) have a slight advantage: we don’t have to play BVB this weekend. I hope those stupid bumblebees play them hard. I hope those stupid bumblebees destroy their spirits, souls, and lucky socks. I hope those stupid bumblebees make ‘em sting (shut up, I’m sick)

By the way, on that note, I never thought this picture (cir. 2009, post laser surgery. This blog is all about surgeries today!), would ever be appropriate for a situation again (especially because it wasn’t appropriate for the original situation), but here we go:

What a babe.

To quote Nik Spohr: heja bvb! Or something like that, I never really listen (hey Nik: why haven’t you gotten me into the Talking Heads more?!)

Anyway, few things are more exciting than the Champions League final (I’d argue, sometimes Europa), and I’m super stoke for Sunday May 27^th

Speaking of which…

Sunday, Sunday

I am not stoked for Sunday May 13^th. If the tonsils don’t kill me, this Sunday will.

I just wrote a ton of stuff about the game, but then deleted it all as to not look like a madman. Also, it was pretty grammatically terrible, more than usual. All I will say is this: if Udinese get 3^rd, I will either have this tattooed onto my ribs:

 (I realize that this:

Is the more traditional choice, but I don’t know if I would have the balls to survive all that black)

Or, I will have this tattooed to my hip:

I’m open to suggestions as to which one is better. I do quite like the idea of “Di Natale” on me though.

Speaking of which…

Holy, shit! The Euro!

… is soon. I hope he plays. Sorta. Like, in the 92^nd, where he then goes on to score the game winning goal. Yes that would be perfect.

Speaking of which…

Gosh, you look pretty!

You really do!

Alright dear readers (especially that one guy who wrote, and I quote, “Juve fans are cool, your a cock”), I now need to lie down and pretend to not be in pain.

SEE YOU SOON! PROMISE!

Hopp,

scm. 

Champions League: Revisited

Champions League: Round Three

Tomorrow Today is the day. Tomorrow Today is the day where I redeem myself.

The title of this post is called "Champions League: Round Three Revisited" for a reason. 

Round One: During the 2010 Champions League, I was in a packed Grad Club (I miss you) in London (I miss you, but less), drinking something probably awful (green tea beer), and I declared that I would buy a round if Barcelona beat Arsenal.

Yup, you read that right. I put my money on Arsenal.

Let me give you a back story to this. As I sat in the Grad Club, my knees up to my chin, eating deep fried oreos (God, I really miss the Grad Club), I was watching the game idly. You know that I don’t particularly care for Barca (or Arsenal, to be honest), and I was getting increasingly sick of everyone’s hard on for the stupid Spanish team. So, I turned to the three gentlemen beside me and declared, “I bet you guys a round that Arsenal will win.”

Now, these aren’t just any three guys watching Champions League instead of learning about MARC Standards. These are the type of guys who knock over beers in heated arguments about which EPL team has a better third string keeper. These are the type of guys who, if given 5 minutes, could rip up Wilson’s/Kuper’s/Horncastle’s (etc) greatest piece of work like an undergrad research essay. These are the type of guys, who debated the expectations and outcomes of The Score showing Serie A for close to two hours. These are the types of guys who raise their eyebrows when I even think TFC.

One immediately leaned forward to shake while the other two stared at me dumbfoundedly.

“I’m serious guys. Arsenal to win. No questions.”

“This game?”

“Yup.”

“Arsenal?”

"Yes."

"Against Barcelona?"

“Jesus, yes! Now or never. Shake.”

Needless to say, eventually I drank my words. Or, rather, they did.

And no one has let me live it down since. Let me put it this way, while writing this post I (honest to God) received this message from one of them:

“I'm pretty sure, when Barca is up 2 at half, that I can convince you to go double or nothing or maybe even triple.”

While he was referring to tomorrow's match, 2011 wasn't much better for me either...

Round Two: ... when Barca and Arsenal met again, so did the heckling from the peanut gallery. However, I being the mature adult that I am, ignore them (re: flipped them off). And, me still being the mature adult that I am, I don’t want to get into the score of that one leg.

In regards to my luck between 2010 and 2011, I can safely post this:

HOWEVER! However! That is all about to change! 

Round Three: My bad-luck-celona (that works better out loud, I promise), is over. The point of all this is that tomorrow  today, I will have full bragging rights, full redemption, full beer from Colin (which I probably won’t finish) because Milan WILL CHELSEA DESTROYED BARCA.

That’s right! I am declaring it on my blog: Milan to Chelsea beated [sic] Barcelona, beyond any shadow of a doubt. I have had total and complete faith in Chelsea, and I was right! the last surviving Italian team making it to the final. Where upon, we will reclaim our fourth spot. And eventually, Udinese will be back in Champions League. And that they too WILL DESTROY BARCELONA UNLIKE 2005. Vaffanculo.

Oh, I’m sorry, did you think this was not going to somehow really be about Udinese? Bless you. [Ignore all that bit]

Anyway, Milan to win Chelsea won. Simple of that. I'll collect your high fives tomorrow immediately.

Hopp,

scm.

Love.

Hopp,
scm.

Champions League: Round Three

Tomorrow is the day. Tomorrow is the day where I redeem myself.

The title of this post is called "Champions League: Round Three" for a reason. 

Round One: During the 2010 Champions League, I was in a packed Grad Club (I miss you) in London (I miss you, but less), drinking something probably awful (green tea beer), and I declared that I would buy a round if Barcelona beat Arsenal.

Yup, you read that right. I put my money on Arsenal.

Let me give you a back story to this. As I sat in the Grad Club, my knees up to my chin, eating deep fried oreos (God, I really miss the Grad Club), I was watching the game idly. You know that I don’t particularly care for Barca (or Arsenal, to be honest), and I was getting increasingly sick of everyone’s hard on for the stupid Spanish team. So, I turned to the three gentlemen beside me and declared, “I bet you guys a round that Arsenal will win.”

Now, these aren’t just any three guys watching Champions League instead of learning about MARC Standards. These are the type of guys who knock over beers in heated arguments about which EPL team has a better third string keeper. These are the type of guys who, if given 5 minutes, could rip up Wilson’s/Kuper’s/Horncastle’s (etc) greatest piece of work like an undergrad research essay. These are the type of guys, who debated the expectations and outcomes of The Score showing Serie A for close to two hours. These are the types of guys who raise their eyebrows when I even think TFC.

One immediately leaned forward to shake while the other two stared at me dumbfoundedly.

“I’m serious guys. Arsenal to win. No questions.”

“This game?”

“Yup.”

“Arsenal?”

"Yes."

"Against Barcelona?"

“Jesus, yes! Now or never. Shake.”

Needless to say, eventually I drank my words. Or, rather, they did.

And no one has let me live it down since. Let me put it this way, while writing this post I (honest to God) received this message from one of them:

“I'm pretty sure, when Barca is up 2 at half, that I can convince you to go double or nothing or maybe even triple.”

While he was referring to tomorrow's match, 2011 wasn't much better for me either...

Round Two: ... when Barca and Arsenal met again, so did the heckling from the peanut gallery. However, I being the mature adult that I am, ignore them (re: flipped them off). And, me still being the mature adult that I am, I don’t want to get into the score of that one leg.

In regards to my luck between 2010 and 2011, I can safely post this:

HOWEVER! However! That is all about to change! 

Round Three: My bad-luck-celona (that works better out loud, I promise), is over. The point of all this is that tomorrow, I will have full bragging rights, full redemption, full beer from Colin (which I probably won’t finish) because Milan WILL DESTROY BARCA.

That’s right! I am declaring it on my blog: Milan to beat Barcelona, beyond any shadow of a doubt. I have total and complete faith in the last surviving Italian team making it to the final. Where upon, we will reclaim our fourth spot. And eventually, Udinese will be back in Champions League. And that they too WILL DESTROY BARCELONA UNLIKE 2005. Vaffanculo.

Oh, I’m sorry, did you think this was not going to somehow really be about Udinese? Bless you.

Anyway, Milan to win. Simple of that. I'll collect your high fives tomorrow.

Hopp,

scm.

Tender, Revisited

I don’t want to talk about Udinese. Nothing you can say will make me feel better. In fact, I’ll just get angrier.

They’re shit. Absolute shit.

I don’t care where they are in the table (possibly not for long, Napoli play Juventus later today), they’re garbage. They don’t play with heart anymore. They don’t play with desire. They lack passione.

To borrow from my father: there’s no fantasia.

The worst part is, I’m not angry for the reasons that you may think. Truth be told, my despair comes from this: I miss the Udinese of a few years ago; midtable, who lost to small teams but became Davids when it came to the Goliaths. They were something to be proud of, something to be excited for.

I am not talking about the scoreline. I have seen them lose 1 – 0 and my heart still swelled with pride with how well they played. No, this is about their lethargic, uninspiring, waltzing about.

I miss Udinese, I don’t know where they’ve gone and worse, I don’t know how to get them back.

The best I can do right now (my father already has the angry-letter-writing-campaign side of things covered; he received a letter from La Gazzetta dello Sport asking him nicely to please stop writing) is to do what I do whenever I am down: blare Blur’s Tender, painfully loud.

I have attributed the song to TFC before (see: http://www.90minutesofhopp.com/2011/07/tender.html), but really, I put it on when I’m upset about anything. And today was Udinese turn.

However, there is a difference between Tender for TFC and Tender for Udinese. For TFC, it’s a song of hope, a song of future redemption. For Udinese, it’s a song of mourning, a song of love lost. I’m not, “waiting for that feeling to come;” it came already, and it has past. What I’m waiting for is for it to come back. Not to me, but to the team.

While I used the chorus for TFC, there’s a more significant part of the song to apply to Udinese:

Tender is the night/Lying by your side

Tender is the touch/Of someone that you love too much

Tender is the day/The demons go away

Lord I need to find/Someone who can heal my mind

That’s where we are at right now. They’re so close to being the Little Zebras that I know and love. The Little Zebras that are written about in shock and surprise. The Little Zebras that were once called “The Little Barcelona.” I know you can get back there, I just need you to realize it too. Udinese, I need you to care again. I need you to understand that I’m not angry/heartbroken/on my knees because of score lines. I am because you’re better than this. I need you to prove it to me. I need you to heal my mind.

Damon is right: love’s the greatest thing. 

Hopp,

scm.

Post script: I wouldn’t be writing this if it wasn’t for love.

MissioforFIFA

Phase One

Okay, here’s "Phase One" for Missio for TFC: shameless promotion. After all, shamelessness has always been my best feature.

Which leads me to this: I am dead serious about kicking this campaign up a few notches. I've already drafted a letter to Sepp and I started to design buttons. However, I am just trying to figure out the cheapest way possible to make them (spoiler: Cafepress is not) before I start sending them out. In the mean time, I'm relaunched my campaign; if you haven’t asked for a pin yet, you’ll most definitely want one after this:

MISSIO FOR FIFA 3.0

1. I’m already a Swiss citizen. No need for any work visas.

2. I’m not really that picky about how high above sea level games are played.

3. I can name, like 30%, of the member states.

4. My heritage is, like 30%, of the member states.

5.  I will erect a statue of Di Natale in Udine. And, if the government doesn’t let me, I will construct one myself on my dad’s farm in San Daniele.

6. My “Controversy” section on Wikipedia will be much shorter than current President’s.

7. I will make Ray Hudson and Tiziano Crudeli call games together whenever Barca meets Milan in Champions League.

8. Though, that said, I may immediately relegate Barca down to Timbits soccer.

9. I’ll allow players to remove their shirts in celebration. In fact, I have a list of players who will be allowed to remove their shirts for the entire game. And by allowed, I mean enforced.

10. Fifa is right next to the Zurich Zoo and I love the Zurich Zoo! (That point is more for me than for you).

11. I’ll make sure that matches remain with just two halves

12. And there will be no commercial breaks between plays

13. I will be able to explain the offside rule in one sentence, possibly with the use of a semi-colon

14. I’ll get rid of FIFA rankings. Seriously, is someone actually paid to come up with that crap?

15. I’ll make sure that goal line technology will not only be introduced in FIFA sanctioned games, but also in the upcoming FIFA 13

16. Grant Wahl will be guaranteed a position at FIFA, whenever he wants to join.

17. That said, no more favours, bribes, or corruption. Unless it’s for Balotelli. He can get whatever he wants. I mean, he already does anyway.

17. I will, from time to time, refer to soccer as “football.” Maybe.

18. I won’t be a racist, sexist, homophobic, hateful President

19. I’ll bring Ciao back. But as the official FIFA mascot (RE: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Italia_90_mascot.png).

20.  I’ll be the second generation of Missio to infiltrate FIFA headquarters.

Again, if you want a pin email me at MISSIOforFIFA@gmail.com. Or just ask me. At one point, I am just going to start sending them out to random people. 

Be part of history. And, more importantly, be a part of my collage.

Hopp (and thanks),

scm. 

Be Cruel to Me Because I'm a Fool for You

The titles is from an Arctic Monkey's song. It sums up my feeling on about everything right now. 

When I get stressed out, I make myself do a million little side projects to overwhelm myself with unimportant things, thus not totally freaking out over the one (or more) important thing(s). For example, stabbing objects (aka sewing pillows) during games helps me keep the profanity and crying (somewhat) down. It's soothing, therapeutic. And then I can scream bloody murder into the finished product.

You see, I'm a compartmentalizer. I put everything into their own little boxes in my mind and push them away so I don't have to think about it. In fact, I'm writing this post, from my Blackberry, while on the subway, to avoid my mind from wandering. I'm not crazy. I'm just extremely organized. I even have about 6 different Udinese mind boxes which are right now full to the brim, but allowing me to function normally.

Anyway, the point I'm getting at is that I need a distraction, so I am embarking on a project to allow me to focus. Make sense? Yes. Good. Let's continue.

Well, it's not really embarking. It's getting back on board with Missio for FIFA. I let that fall by the wayside, but not anymore! We're back, baby!

My next follow up post will be my new campaign. Please feel free to spread it amongst your friends, family, coworkers, peers, and loved ones. The new goal is to go to Zurich in October (turns out I have to go for surgery--tonsillectomy, nothing major, though apparently it's terrible for adult--so the trip has been postponed until the Fall). I assume by then I will be a household name in Zurich (I already am in Zug) and the Swiss polizei won't arrest me for handing out leaflets on Fifa Straße.

I also plan to start a letter writing campaign to Sepp. My goal for the end of the year is to try my best to get him to acknowledge my existence. Yes, I really am that self centred, self involved, and egotistical.

Speaking of which, I am also making campaign buttons! They will be of poor quality and embarrassingly bad, but if you would like one, just email me (MISSIOforFIFA@gmail.com) or tweet me (@sonjamissio). Also, if you do want one, please feel free to forward me a picture of you wearing it; it will make me smile so much my cheeks will hurt if I can convince enough people to wear one to make a full and proper collage.

Which, right now, would only consist of me and Wieners.

Anyway, like I said, I will post my updated campaign soon. Support and love is always appreciated. 

Hopp,

scm. 

Red at Night, Sailor’s Delight

An Open Letter to TFC

My dearest Toronto FC:

We need to talk. I’ve been doing some thinking over the last few days and I think we need a structural change in our relationship.

Now calm down, don’t start crying. I don’t want to break up, nor do I don’t want to go on a break (and we’re already in an open relationship), however, we need to sit down and re-think our roles and duties in this partnership. I still love you, but I’ve changed.

You see, over the last 5 years, I had patience, I was forgiving; I was making excusing for us and enabling your bad behaviour. But I see now that I was in the wrong, I was damaging us.

When you’d lose, I’d positively say, “don’t worry, we’ll get them next game!” I turned a blind eye and it seemed like I couldn’t care less what you did.

Well, not anymore.

I realized something during the previous CCL round, for the first time ever, my dearest TFC, I actually got pissed off at you. You actually filled me with rage.

YOU IDIOTS! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? WHO THE FUCK DRAWS 2 – 2 WHEN YOU’RE UP 2 – 0 AT HOME?!

Well, the short answer is Udinese. And if Udinese ever pulled that stunt on me, I would be raging, not celebrating. Thinking back now, it is insane that I walked out of that game relieved, happy, and hopefully. You see, my dearest TFC, here’s where you differ from my first love.

People ask me how I can be so hard on Udinese, but the real question is, how can they be so hard on me? How can they win a game, and yet still be kicked out of a European competition? (Note: that’s a rhetorical question, I do understand the rules).

The truth is, I am hard on Udinese because I love them. I want them to do better because I know they can. I get angry with them when they don’t because I know they are able to. You see folks, my rage, anger, verbal abuse, and tears are all just signs of love (just ask anyone who’s ever dated me).

It all boils down to one thing: passion. I am like this because I am passionate. I can get so angry that I actually start to shake. But, I can also get so excited that it results the same reaction.

You see, I believe that you can only really love something as much as you can hate it. That said, love and hate do not necessarily have to have the positive and negative connotations we usually attribute to them; rather, we should view them as extreme acts of passion.

And that’s where I have failed you TFC; you have only gotten the love, which is completely phony, hollow, and, quite frankly, shallow without the hate.

It’s not real love without the hate, you need both to truly support a team. You cannot possibly understand what it means to be truly happy, unless you also know what it means to be truly gutted. It’s not the ability to go from one extreme to the other, it’s the ability to understand why it’s necessary to go from one extreme to another.

So, my dearest TFC, we will approach this season with a new outlook. I will hate you, scream at you, and threaten you with the North American equivalent of Serie B (fun fact: there isn’t one), because I love you. And because I will never give up on you.

 All for one.

Hopp,

scm. 

TFC Photo Essay

This isn't actually a photo essay. It's just a bunch of photos. From TFC - LAG. A game where we were 2 up at home, and ended up drawing 2 - 2. WHY DO BOTH OF MY TEAMS DO THIS TO ME?


Anyway, enjoy the pictures, I'm still too gutted to talk. Yeah, yeah, they played well. But it's time I treat TFC the same way I treat Udinese: with rage and swearing and violent fits. I love you T-O. 

I like to make Frankenstein's Monster out of things, like pretend panoramic photos!

Case and point. Also, um, that's an unattractive angle of my leg. 

Anyway. They're he-re. 

Less Monster.  

 And, again. Ignore the warped ground

 View from the 500s

View from the 500s, over a seat. 

 Anyone who took part in this, is not cool. Have some respect. Shameful and stupid.

As if you weren't expecting it.

Anyway, until Wednesday. Where we will win 1 - 3. 


Hopp,
scm.

Pillow

Real Sports Apparel had children's jerseys on sale. So I bought one:

In hopes of it turning out like this:

Yes, that's right, I own a Frank Lampard pillow. So, anyway, my plan was to go from this - to - this:

Now. I should probably point out, I have never sewn before. As you can see here:

Perfectly taped! Anyway, I had no idea what I was doing, but by the end of the Serie A games this weekend, I had this:

Comparable? Keep in mind, this was totally by hand. Without any plan. Or talent.

Fine. A little lumpy. But I am sure it will even itself out. Anyway, real post about the CCL game coming soon, but not tonight.


Hopp,
scm. 

The Next Day

I have calm down since yesterday's post. In fact, I feel an awful lot better after I had a conversation with a lovely gentlemen who reminded me of something I should have thought about a long time ago: Sports Night.

That's right, Aaron Sorkin's Sports Night.

Now, I haven't seen it in years (probably a lot longer than I think, if I actually thought about it), but I do remember the impression it had on me. That Dana Whittaker had on me. Having said that, I plan to re-watch the show and see if it's as good as I remember (probably) and as inspiring as I remember (hopefully). This could very well be a huge disaster.

I also went back and re-read an old blog post I wrote, here's an excerpt:

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"Anyway, the point I am trying to make, and the reason why I am writing this, is to discuss the hot topic of women in sports, and one Sian Massey. You see Massey, I once was subjected to similar controversy you face, so I know how you feel:

This one time, I made the mistake of being a girl while playing Football Manager, and all of my interviews became about me being a girl (a girl who is “cagey” at that). So, despite putting together a totally STELLAR Young Boys team (and making Marco Wölfli happy to stay with the club) all anyone could focus on was me being a girl! Kind of like, how all anyone could focus on was if an offside goal could be called by a girl.

Bare with me, I am going somewhere with this.

So in Football Manager, I made a point to say how girls could do anything, and we could do it, and I was going to do it and I am the symbol for modern sports management feminism and all that bullshit.

Yes, bullshit.

Because, you see my friends, by calling attention to the fact that I am a girl, by stating how I am special and unique, I am furthering the idea that I am different. Yes, I can do the same job, but I am also different, because I am a girl.

That’s bullshit.

I can play Football Manager (editor’s note: actually, I can’t. It constantly freezes my computer) because I know a bit about the game, not because I am a girl who knows a bit about the game. I am not going to put “a feminine touch” on things, nor bake cookies for the team, nor tell them that it doesn’t matter if we win or lose, all that matters is that we have fun. No, my girl-hood in no way would affect how I play; in fact, I am not sure why it’s even under debate.

So let’s apply this to Massey, shall we? Yes, she is a minority due to her gender in soccer, that can’t be ignored. But that does not mean people should call upon her as some sort of leader of a footie feminist movement. Maybe, just maybe, if no one pointed out, “it’s so weird that a girl is a linesmen,” then maybe it wouldn’t be so weird! And yes, I am sticking to linesmen. Currently, that is what the role is called, not linespersons.

Well, you may argue, I am furthering to enforce stereotypes by making women accept their role in male dominated worlds. Well, actually, yes, I sort of am. If you wave your hands around and complain, of course people will notice, and that can bring both positiveand negative attention. If you let things just go naturally, then they will happen naturally. It’s unfair, and unrealistic, to put the burden of change on one person. That’s not how life works. You’re just sticking Massey into a corner, pointing, and turning the wattage up on the spotlight. And that's BOTH with pro-female positions and anti-female positions. That’s not the way to do it. Instead, ignore the fact that she’s a woman and focus on the fact that she made one helluva a call, outside any point of her gender. In other words, she’s not a good linesmen despite/in spite being a girl, she’s a good linesmen because she does the job right.

You know what makes this story sexist? The fact that it is even a story. By anyone. Including rah-rah females trying to point out that we “shattered through the glass pitch.” If the glass pitch has been shattered, or at the very least, been chipped, articles pointing to the fact that Massey is female are doing a good job at repairing it. Just let it be, and pretty soon, there won’t even be a glass to break."

***

So, now along with watching Sports Night in its entirety, I am also going to rethink my position in women in sports. I’ll get back to you on both.

In the mean time, see you guys on Wednesday! Stop by and say hi. And please tell me that you like my shorts.

Hopp,

scm.