This is fascinating

Which domestic league is best represented in the World Cup as it progresses? Feast your eyes!

Highly clickable.

 

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TAKE ME OUT TO THE CONCACAF

The irrepressably-enjoyable Rog Bennett of Men in Blazers has been all over this but in the anxious run-up to US-Portugal on Sunday, it’s fun to review how despite Hondouras’ tough losses, the CONCACAF teams are doing unbelievably well! Costa Rica with six points are you kidding me? Mexico holds Brazil? Wow.

It fled my recollection, but I know I looked up the acronym at some point, and it felt like this scrappy display from the top three teams in international football’s longest weirdest-titled body merits some love for our crazy confed.  (The second best name in my book is CONMEBOL, third is OFC, O for Oceania. I told a buddy recently about Mexico squeaking into the World Cup via a two leg playoff with the winner from Oceania and he laughed out loud, “Do they play Atlantis?”  Unbeatable because they’re impossible to find.)

The most sticktuitive lil confed’s acronym stands for the much too-logical (if slightly odd grammatically) “the Confederation of North, Central American and Caribbean Island Association Football.”

CONCACAFés all ’round!

 

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Life and Death and the World Cup

In the wake of their 5-1 drubbing by der Nederlanden in the group opener, hard-luck (or just bad?) Spanish/Real Madrid goalkeeper Iker Casillas has claimed that their next game against Chile is ‘life or death.’

Currently Colombia is playing Greece, bringing to mind the tragic 1994 death of Colombian defender Andrés Escobar. His own-goal against the United States lead in part to a 2-1 loss in the World Cup that year, which likely lead to him being shot to death by a bodyguard of a cartel leader.

Colombia 1994 and Spain 2014 are more than a little different, but even still, hopefully Casillas is dead wrong.

 

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Filed under Association Football, Poor Decorum

Don’t sleep on Belgium!

Firstly, I recently came across an article titled:

Aldi confirms up to 100% horsemeat in beef products

which made me laugh out loud real hard.

While I fully recognize that I am late to the party on this one (Paul Doyle has been saying this for a long time), I am establishing my own internet date-stamped belief that Belgium is going to do very well in the World Cup. I suppose some kind of quarter- or semi-final appearance perhaps?

They murdalized their qualifying group in Europe (tough place to play though their group was not).

I would consider myself to have a passing fascination with world soccer. I divert more attention than necessary or appropriate, but am far from an expert. But reading over the Belgian national team roster, names jump out that are among the European elite.

For those too lazy to clink a link:  Christian Benteke, Mousa Dembélé, Marouane Fellaini, Eden Hazard, Vincent Kompany, Romelu Lukaku, Thomas Vermaelen. Jan Vertonghen. Plus a bunch of cats we ain’t never heard of yet.

Don’t sleep on Belgium!

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Call it self-referential

but the spam-bots are getting PRETTY sophisticated. Just found this in the ol’ attempted comments filter from a “Mary Salas”:

The very heart of your writing while appearing reasonable originally, did not really settle perfectly with me after some time. Somewhere within the paragraphs you actually were able to make me a believer unfortunately only for a very short while. I however have a problem with your leaps in logic and one would do well to help fill in those gaps. If you actually can accomplish that, I would certainly be fascinated.

I feel like this is so general, only small changes could make it sound like a break-up:

The very heart of you, while appearing reasonable originally, did not really settle perfectly with me after some time. Somewhere within you actually were able to make me a believer unfortunately only for a very short while. I however have a problem with your leaps in logic and you would do well to help fill in those gaps. If you actually can accomplish that, I would certainly be fascinated.

Ouch city.

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Google Considers Me Apoplectic

Lest why else would they publish this:

That is my Christian name.

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A Pretty Funny Except From the ESPN Writeup of Last Night’s Tigers-Twins Base-ball Game

Plagued by groin, abdominal and hip issues, [Miguel] Cabrera still delivered a three-run double in the eighth inning Wednesday to help Detroit (74-52) even this three-game set with a 7-1 victory.

“I was pleased with his health,” Tigers manager Jim Leyland said.

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Euphemisms for Cold Sores

Playing the Herpsichord

The Sins of the Father

Study-Hall-Cola-Blossom

Uncle John’s Band (“band” pronounced “van”)

Garbage Mouth

Lip Rot

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Filed under Being Human, Gross, Jokes, Poor Decorum

A New Character I Made For You

This is an old-timey baseball player:

 

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Filed under Baseball, Being Human, Jokes, Video

LIKE A CHILD

LIKE A CHILD

A brief stage play illustrating a cautionary tale of how to inadvertently alienate a stranger and do nothing to mollify the situation

Setting:

The Horseshoe Casino Steakhouse waiting area, Hammond, Indiana, Summer 2009.

Cast:

MARK, a 30-year old.

A nice family (MAUREEN, Tom, TJ)

STRANGER, a balding, short-pants-wearing middle-aged stranger

A Casino Steakhouse Staff Member

Immediately behind MARK stands a middle-aged, short-pants-wearing STRANGER, who has for several minutes not been getting satisfaction from staff regarding a table reservation.  His considerable ire is a fact MARK can hear but not see. Immediately before the journey to the casino, MARK changed his attire from shorts to pants on account a misguided sense of decorum.           

At the outset of the play we hear a brief muttering of disconcert from the STRANGER to the Staff Member. MAUREEN notices MARK’s change of clothing attire.

MAUREEN

Oh, you changed from shorts to pants!

MARK

Oh yeah I did, back at the house before we left. Ugh, otherwise I’d be standing here in shortpants, LIKE A CHILD.

These last three words are not yelled but uttered with such slow, deep contempt as to warrant capitalizing. Off MAUREEN’s reaction of shock and bottled amusement, MARK turns around. He and the STRANGER regard each other briefly, the STRANGER has clearly overheard. MARK looks down, turns back, looks briefly and blankly at MAUREEN, puts his hands on his hips. There is a loud exhale before he turns and stares absently at Lake Michigan through a nearby window, while the group is mired in thick, lengthy silence.

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Filed under Poor Decorum, Stage Plays