Skipping past Writober and Nanoblomo . . ? Shit, I dunno. I'm as bored as you are.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
I Actually Had a Dream Wherein I Played Soccer Recently
I hadn’t meant to not post anything for more than a week. I’ve even been telling myself, “Post more, not less, post more, not less . . .” It’s not working, apparently.
Besides my regular job, keeping up with the World Cup for my secondary job (as a bookie), working on my freelance job, celebrating fatherhood (and winning some money at poker while doing it), and trying to figure out exactly what the Christ is going on over in Deadwood . . . I, perhaps understandably, haven’t had time for much else. Not that I want to whine about it.
But allow me to further isolate whatever readership I still have by whining about the World Cup. Am I the only one who isn’t happy about the U.S. team tying the Italian team? Sure, we were screwed over by the ref, and maybe we were lucky to avoid allowing another goal (and, yet, lucky to get the goal we did [thanks, Italian defender-dude]), but we scored a (disallowed) goal with nine men. Why did we back off and spend the last 15 minutes of the match in our own half? Why did Bruce Arena sit on the final substitution that he could’ve used to insert Eddie Johnson into the game?
Because we’re happy with a tie, that’s why.* We’re happy needing to win and then STILL needing help from another team, just to advance (and face Brazil).
How about if we had won that game and then went on to beat Ghana, we’d control our own destiny . . . and possibly win the group altogether (and, thus, avoid having to play Brazil right away).
I love the can-do spirit of Americans in international competition, don’t you? What happened to “playing to win?”
In other news, this prison is very close to our house and I drive by it on my way to work. To think, had I left 15 or 20 minutes early and gone the normal route to work, I could’ve seen a SHOOTOUT!