I'll miss watching Ned Zelic slouched on his couch
With the Socceroos’ defeat at the hands of the ref, and the Italians, I am reminded of why I normally hate soccer. Here is a game where the end result can have very little to do with the actual game. Yes, Australia has trouble handing the finishing blow to the other team. They just tend to attack and attack and then fizzle at the end. And yes, Harry Kewell (the closest thing we have to a Brazilian player) was missing from the lineup. And yes, I know that finishing off attacking plays with actual goals is part of the game, but… the Socceroos were otherwise the dominant team in that game (remember that Australia was already ahead in possessions long before that red card was given to the Italian dude) and yet the final result does not show that one bit.
Soccer must be the most frustrating game for a fan. If I was following a team, like I’ve been following the Socceroos, for an entire league season, I’d probably have a heart attack ten times over.
I suppose this might also explain why there are more soccer hooligans than hooligans of any other sport (except maybe pockets American basketball fans – like when LA fans started riots and burning of cars after the Lakers won a championship – really nasty stuff). It’s just frustration.
It was quite interesting watching that ‘Song for the Socceroos’ program when Ian ‘Dicko’ Dickson was on. His constant gripe was that all the songs on the show were too positive, whereas a good football song should reflect the frustrations of being a fan as well as the winning and the good times. He scoffed at lyrics like ‘Best of the best’ and ‘We can’t be beaten.’ His favourite football song is del Amitri’s Scotland World Cup anthem ‘Don’t come home too soon’. (he gets extra points for it being a del Amitri song).
__________
In other soccer-related news, just when you thought we couldn’t love Guus Hiddink any more than we already do, it’s been revealed that he actually runs a low-profile charity program in South Korea, helping underprivileged kids over there. His latest project with them is to, of course, build them a soccer pitch. Sure he looks like a high school principal with a football pump permanently up his arse, but St Guus makes winners of underprivileged kids on top of making winners out of underprivileged soccer countries. Wow.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Monday, June 19, 2006
Tosser profiles
This is a new ongoing segment of my blog where I profile people I have met who I think are tossers.
Ratings are from 1 to 10 — 1 being not much of a tosser and 10 being the ultimate tosser.
I encourage you all to start your own Tosser profiles on your blogs. There are so many of them around!
TOSSER A
Who: Guy at work. Kinda high up. Has recently started running a lot of departments.
First meeting: Early 2006
Tosser qualification: Overtly company-focused. Seems to worship Anthony Robbins. Draws meaningless diagrams in meetings. Tends to repeat himself to emphasise a point (see quotes)
Quotes: 1. (to a friend at work) ‘You know why you got the promotion, Sally? Because you’re a gun! You’re a gun, Sally!’ 2. (to same friend) ‘When push comes to shove, some people sink and some people swim, and Sally, you’re a swimmer!’ 3. (to me) ‘You gotta play the game. You gotta play the game.’ (referring to some company procedure)
Overall remarks: Not that bad a guy really. Just corny as Hell and has got way too much ‘go-getter’ attitude without doing that much himself except go to meetings. The phrase ‘All talk and no action’ comes to mind. Pity that these are the kinds of guys that move up in our company. I guess he knows how to play the game.
Tosser rating: 5
TOSSER B
Who: Random guy I met playing basketball. Played a pickup game on his team.
First meeting: Yesterday
Tosser qualification: Has obviously watched too much And1 mixtapes. Did a behind-the-back off-the-shoulder move against a girl who was only playing to make up numbers (i.e. was not trying very hard). Passed the ball off the backboard to himself and badly missed the shot (note: none of us had ever met him before. So he was trying these moves against STRANGERS). Constantly made excuses for his bad play. Talked up his past.
Quotes: 1. (after making a pass that got intercepted) ‘I don’t usually make mistakes like that.’ 2. (… about three plays later) ‘Actually I think that’s the first time I’ve ever made that mistake.’ 3. (when my friend was nice enough to say that he’s a fast runner) ‘I’m just relaxing. You wouldn’t want to play me when I’m at full speed.’ 4. (when he shoved past the girl who was guarding him and she squealed) ‘My girlfriend often makes noises like that’ (what the?!) 5. (when describing his past) ‘… when I was playing really good ball… back in the day…’ (he looks to be about 25 at most, so ‘back in the day’ must have been what… 5 years ago at the very most?!) 6. (after he tells us of how he’s recovering from his injury using medical technology that only elite athletes use, my friend says ‘wow, you sound pretty dedicated’ and he says…) ‘I just wanna be the best, you know.’
Overall remarks: He’s like the Ben Stiller character in Dodgeball (even in his stature) plus the wigger ‘tude. If he used to be an elite basketball player ‘back in the day’ then I’m Michael Jordan’s illegitimate child. Oh, and he inexplicably headbutted me on a drive and kept playing (and I was on his team).
Tosser rating: 9
This is a new ongoing segment of my blog where I profile people I have met who I think are tossers.
Ratings are from 1 to 10 — 1 being not much of a tosser and 10 being the ultimate tosser.
I encourage you all to start your own Tosser profiles on your blogs. There are so many of them around!
TOSSER A
Who: Guy at work. Kinda high up. Has recently started running a lot of departments.
First meeting: Early 2006
Tosser qualification: Overtly company-focused. Seems to worship Anthony Robbins. Draws meaningless diagrams in meetings. Tends to repeat himself to emphasise a point (see quotes)
Quotes: 1. (to a friend at work) ‘You know why you got the promotion, Sally? Because you’re a gun! You’re a gun, Sally!’ 2. (to same friend) ‘When push comes to shove, some people sink and some people swim, and Sally, you’re a swimmer!’ 3. (to me) ‘You gotta play the game. You gotta play the game.’ (referring to some company procedure)
Overall remarks: Not that bad a guy really. Just corny as Hell and has got way too much ‘go-getter’ attitude without doing that much himself except go to meetings. The phrase ‘All talk and no action’ comes to mind. Pity that these are the kinds of guys that move up in our company. I guess he knows how to play the game.
Tosser rating: 5
TOSSER B
Who: Random guy I met playing basketball. Played a pickup game on his team.
First meeting: Yesterday
Tosser qualification: Has obviously watched too much And1 mixtapes. Did a behind-the-back off-the-shoulder move against a girl who was only playing to make up numbers (i.e. was not trying very hard). Passed the ball off the backboard to himself and badly missed the shot (note: none of us had ever met him before. So he was trying these moves against STRANGERS). Constantly made excuses for his bad play. Talked up his past.
Quotes: 1. (after making a pass that got intercepted) ‘I don’t usually make mistakes like that.’ 2. (… about three plays later) ‘Actually I think that’s the first time I’ve ever made that mistake.’ 3. (when my friend was nice enough to say that he’s a fast runner) ‘I’m just relaxing. You wouldn’t want to play me when I’m at full speed.’ 4. (when he shoved past the girl who was guarding him and she squealed) ‘My girlfriend often makes noises like that’ (what the?!) 5. (when describing his past) ‘… when I was playing really good ball… back in the day…’ (he looks to be about 25 at most, so ‘back in the day’ must have been what… 5 years ago at the very most?!) 6. (after he tells us of how he’s recovering from his injury using medical technology that only elite athletes use, my friend says ‘wow, you sound pretty dedicated’ and he says…) ‘I just wanna be the best, you know.’
Overall remarks: He’s like the Ben Stiller character in Dodgeball (even in his stature) plus the wigger ‘tude. If he used to be an elite basketball player ‘back in the day’ then I’m Michael Jordan’s illegitimate child. Oh, and he inexplicably headbutted me on a drive and kept playing (and I was on his team).
Tosser rating: 9
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Monday, June 05, 2006
Existential Idle
I spoke to this guy once. He had tried out for Idol and made it as far as the celebrity judges before getting rejected. And when I asked him about it, he was dismissive, keen to change the topic and even feigned a poor memory of it.
I couldn’t understand it at the time. Surely it was more significant than that. Surely it’s like one of those once-in-a-lifetime things that you wouldn’t mind reliving over and over. This was two years ago. I was young and naïve back then.
Now I think I know why he was like that.
My Idol experience on Saturday, I must say, was completely underwhelming.
Yes I went.
Finally.
And no I didn’t get in.
It was a big drama going into it. I’ve been talking about it for years and then finally my friend (whom I shall refer to as ‘May’) and I finally decided to go this year. We had a half-hearted training regime (three trips to happy hour Karaoke World) and for once it looked like there wasn’t much stopping us from going this time.
But a mere week away, May started to get cold feet and I got the cold. By Thursday I was feeling better and we went to check out the line for Friday morning. There were maybe thirty people waiting overnight, and one party brought a tent. It didn’t look too bad. I said that I wouldn’t audition without her and she said OK and so we were back on.
Come Friday, we’re both prepared to camp out the night. I was thinking if I didn’t get in, there may still be a chance that a Channel 10 producer might pick out my dashing good looks and land me a spot on Neighbours.
And then the rain came down. Another setback. So Friday, in the rain I walked down to the Sydney Convention Centre and checked out the line. But there was no line. So I found Hall 6 where the auditions were being held and this lady told me that numbers have been down this year so there was no need to camp out. This was perfect because it just so happened that May and I were not at all keen about camping out in the pouring rain. So we were back on.
And from here, everything takes a downward turn.
I won’t give you a blow-by blow rundown of the audition day because, like that guy I mentioned at the top of this entry, I can’t remember much.
But let’s just say that all in all, it was rather unpleasant.
Was it that we were disappointed for getting rejected?
I don’t think so. We never expected to make it. But I guess I just expected more. Expected it to be fun. Maybe gain some insight. But instead we were too tired and everyone was too half dead for it to be fun. At least the girls could get free makeup and hair done. All I could do was watch the girls getting the free makeup and hair done. And when the auditions finally came around some nine hours later, it was swift and clinical and I suddenly got so nervous and clammed up and felt like a balloon about to burst and my voice was shaky and then one of the judges said ‘Thanks, good effort, but I’ll have to say no for the moment.’ And I was out of there. And in no time during all that did I find any of it the least bit ‘fun’.
If I was to make an analogy about it, I would liken it to waiting for nine hours to download a porno only to find out that it’s actually snuff. There may be a slight perverse curiosity to it, but by the end you'd probably feel lesser for the experience.
Stripped bare of all the wonders of video editing, the rush of reality was not something I was expecting or hoping to see. All the TV bits they filmed looked so fake. All those shots of happy people lining up you see on TV are actually measured lapses where the producers managed to get people to look excited for about 30-second intervals with bribes of naff prizes like free hair products.
This line made me cringe.
‘Spread out a little more so that when we film, it looks like the line is a lot longer.’
The only three really genuinely excited people I saw all day were JP, the heavy metal guy who’s been trying out every year, a little girl in a red beret who wore too much makeup and thought she could dance and a huge girl who acted like she thinks she’s a lot smaller that what she is.
There was also a sever lacking of silliness. The only one was a naked man in nothing but a blanket. And when he took off his blanket it turned out he was wearing undies anyway. (Not that I WANTED to see a naked man but you know, it was kinda disappointing that he wasn’t fully naked)
There was a Kelly Clarkson look-alike waiting with her parents and I told May ‘She’s a shoo-in.’ But she didn’t get in. Came out of the audition area to the consoling arms of her parents. And May said, ‘she must be a really bad singer.’ Another girl, two ahead of me in the audition line said this was her third go and the last two times she made it all the way to the celebrity judges. She didn’t make it either. Those two depressed me.
I think that I no longer knew why I was going to audition except for the fact that I had harped about going for a couple of years and I needed to shush my own hype.
But I think that maybe going made me realise that wannabe karaoke singers shouldn’t be in a place like this and that disappointed me. This was a place for people who are used to singing on stages and recording. There’s no fun to be had here for the rest of us.
I think that maybe I was too tired to take any fun from it.
I think that maybe I should have taken it more seriously.
But I think that maybe if I had taken it more serious, I would be crossing the ‘sad’ line, I’d still not get in and I’d be depressed for it.
I think that maybe this show is losing steam and that this could be the last year.
I think that maybe I’m just too old for this crap.
I can’t say I’m sorry I went because at least now I will no longer be left wondering. And I’m very glad that I had May with me because waiting alone may have gotten me close to killing myself by swallowing lethal amounts of free hair products. But I am sorry that I lost a Saturday of my life that I will never ever get back.
That in itself is bad enough.
I spoke to this guy once. He had tried out for Idol and made it as far as the celebrity judges before getting rejected. And when I asked him about it, he was dismissive, keen to change the topic and even feigned a poor memory of it.
I couldn’t understand it at the time. Surely it was more significant than that. Surely it’s like one of those once-in-a-lifetime things that you wouldn’t mind reliving over and over. This was two years ago. I was young and naïve back then.
Now I think I know why he was like that.
My Idol experience on Saturday, I must say, was completely underwhelming.
Yes I went.
Finally.
And no I didn’t get in.
It was a big drama going into it. I’ve been talking about it for years and then finally my friend (whom I shall refer to as ‘May’) and I finally decided to go this year. We had a half-hearted training regime (three trips to happy hour Karaoke World) and for once it looked like there wasn’t much stopping us from going this time.
But a mere week away, May started to get cold feet and I got the cold. By Thursday I was feeling better and we went to check out the line for Friday morning. There were maybe thirty people waiting overnight, and one party brought a tent. It didn’t look too bad. I said that I wouldn’t audition without her and she said OK and so we were back on.
Come Friday, we’re both prepared to camp out the night. I was thinking if I didn’t get in, there may still be a chance that a Channel 10 producer might pick out my dashing good looks and land me a spot on Neighbours.
And then the rain came down. Another setback. So Friday, in the rain I walked down to the Sydney Convention Centre and checked out the line. But there was no line. So I found Hall 6 where the auditions were being held and this lady told me that numbers have been down this year so there was no need to camp out. This was perfect because it just so happened that May and I were not at all keen about camping out in the pouring rain. So we were back on.
And from here, everything takes a downward turn.
I won’t give you a blow-by blow rundown of the audition day because, like that guy I mentioned at the top of this entry, I can’t remember much.
But let’s just say that all in all, it was rather unpleasant.
Was it that we were disappointed for getting rejected?
I don’t think so. We never expected to make it. But I guess I just expected more. Expected it to be fun. Maybe gain some insight. But instead we were too tired and everyone was too half dead for it to be fun. At least the girls could get free makeup and hair done. All I could do was watch the girls getting the free makeup and hair done. And when the auditions finally came around some nine hours later, it was swift and clinical and I suddenly got so nervous and clammed up and felt like a balloon about to burst and my voice was shaky and then one of the judges said ‘Thanks, good effort, but I’ll have to say no for the moment.’ And I was out of there. And in no time during all that did I find any of it the least bit ‘fun’.
If I was to make an analogy about it, I would liken it to waiting for nine hours to download a porno only to find out that it’s actually snuff. There may be a slight perverse curiosity to it, but by the end you'd probably feel lesser for the experience.
Stripped bare of all the wonders of video editing, the rush of reality was not something I was expecting or hoping to see. All the TV bits they filmed looked so fake. All those shots of happy people lining up you see on TV are actually measured lapses where the producers managed to get people to look excited for about 30-second intervals with bribes of naff prizes like free hair products.
This line made me cringe.
‘Spread out a little more so that when we film, it looks like the line is a lot longer.’
The only three really genuinely excited people I saw all day were JP, the heavy metal guy who’s been trying out every year, a little girl in a red beret who wore too much makeup and thought she could dance and a huge girl who acted like she thinks she’s a lot smaller that what she is.
There was also a sever lacking of silliness. The only one was a naked man in nothing but a blanket. And when he took off his blanket it turned out he was wearing undies anyway. (Not that I WANTED to see a naked man but you know, it was kinda disappointing that he wasn’t fully naked)
There was a Kelly Clarkson look-alike waiting with her parents and I told May ‘She’s a shoo-in.’ But she didn’t get in. Came out of the audition area to the consoling arms of her parents. And May said, ‘she must be a really bad singer.’ Another girl, two ahead of me in the audition line said this was her third go and the last two times she made it all the way to the celebrity judges. She didn’t make it either. Those two depressed me.
I think that I no longer knew why I was going to audition except for the fact that I had harped about going for a couple of years and I needed to shush my own hype.
But I think that maybe going made me realise that wannabe karaoke singers shouldn’t be in a place like this and that disappointed me. This was a place for people who are used to singing on stages and recording. There’s no fun to be had here for the rest of us.
I think that maybe I was too tired to take any fun from it.
I think that maybe I should have taken it more seriously.
But I think that maybe if I had taken it more serious, I would be crossing the ‘sad’ line, I’d still not get in and I’d be depressed for it.
I think that maybe this show is losing steam and that this could be the last year.
I think that maybe I’m just too old for this crap.
I can’t say I’m sorry I went because at least now I will no longer be left wondering. And I’m very glad that I had May with me because waiting alone may have gotten me close to killing myself by swallowing lethal amounts of free hair products. But I am sorry that I lost a Saturday of my life that I will never ever get back.
That in itself is bad enough.
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