I had this title all ready to go for this one. It would have been absolutely perfect. I was fully expecting Dimitar Berbatov to lead the Fulham on an existential stroll through Bramall Lane and topple the Blades out of the FA Cup.
Instead, Fulham gaffer Rene Meulensteen left Berbs out of the line ((ditto Clint Dempsey)) and the result instead, was an absolute tour de farce.
Hugo Rodellega led the line, and while he did grab the equalizer on the 75th minute, he also fell on his ass as he swung and missed at a surefire winner. And that set off a mad scramble in the box as the ball was knocked off it seemed like every Fulham player except their goalie and when it finally dropped to the feet of Darren Bent at the far post for a 2 foot tap in, Bent clubbed it wide left and looked around with a dismay that seemed to say that it was everybody else’s fault except his. And maybe it was after all.
For now, I’m hoping that Meulensteen starts Berbs and Clint for their Fa Cup 4th Round Replay at The Cottage. Martini’s first, though, then cigarets, for those who run that way. If those two don’t start, I’m popping a Greene King IPA and rooting for the Blades.
So here I am, stuck with this great title, and nothing applicable to use it on.
It certainly has no applicability to NASCAR. I honestly can’t think of a single NASCAR driver who I would ever imagine would be caught ordering or drinking a martini. It’s just not conceivable. I mean, WHO!!?? What driver would you figure to sip a martini after blazing around the track at 201 mph like the very wind unless forced to do so at gunpoint.
I can’t think of one, can you?
Formula 1, well….I could see that level. But NASCAR?
I mean, I could see Tony Stewart sucking back a strawberry daiquiri before I could see him sipping a dry martini.
So here I am, stuck with it. Thanks to Rene Meulensteen.
Fuck you Rene Meulensteen.
What am I supposed to do?? Trot down to Trollway Liquors for a fifth of Scotch, some dry vermouth, a jar of olives, and a pack of cigarets? ((Ingredients for a Dry Rob Roy…a scotch martini…the only martini I’d ever drink if I were to drink a martini))
I’m here to tell you that that’s not going to happen anytime soon.
Now I will say that anything involving anything called 5th Round Proper certainly must involve martinis. In vast quantities. Also, I’m quite sure it must also involve cigarets.
That’s the only conceivable way that today’s FA Cup 5th Round Proper draw, which was made official about 30 minutes after Chelsea dispatched Stoke City 1-0 at The Bridge, would have drawn Chelsea and Man City. I suppose the lads at the Football Associate of England who staged this little bagatelle figured they needed a Group of Death, so as not be outdone by Sepp Blatter’s Gang of Thieves at FIFA. I also suppose, that since 3o minutes after Chris Foy blew his whistle for time at The Bridge was 5:30 or 6:00 in the afternoon in London, and that the FA lads most certainly had already gathered together for the lunchtime tilt between Sheffield United and Fulham, that they were well into double digits as far as martinis were concerned and were probably puking olives all over the place when they figured that drawing Man City and Chelsea together in the same draw was a mighty good idea.
Really now. It’s not like Man City and Chelsea will be competing for anything else significant this season, yes? Premier League title, Champions League? Chump change stuff compared to FA Cup. But then, why not set it up up they meet in the final at Wembley instead of the mighty might 5th Round Proper?
Well, the simple and obvious answer is that they were drunk!
Smoking martinis and drinking cigarets.
That also explains why Arsenal and Liverpool meet and greet each other in the 5th Round Proper.
Jackie Gleason and Dean Martin would be proud. Oh so proud!!
I want mine…3 parts Schlichte, half of Noilly Prat, stirred please, STIRRED. I’ll wait…and yes, a lime peel.
I looked for some Greene King IPA while when I stopped at Woodman’s in Oak Creek to stock up for my 3 day/2 night business trip to Milwaukee. No Green King was on stock….but I did find an old friend that they’d just got in, Narragansett Lager. Made on Honor, Sold on Merit, good stuff, and cheap…$4.98 for a 6 pak of 16oz cans. Did I mention that it’s good stuff?
It was fortunate that I was driving to Milwaukee yesterday afternoon as I wrap this up, since I would had to have had to have drunk had a whole six-pak of it just get through Chelsea’s tilt with the Mighty Hammers of West Ham United. Yes, I would have have needed that. So better off that I was driving through the Wisconsin countryside while the drudge-fest was played out at Stamford Bridge. West Ham played the famous and well-known 10-0 formation…and Big Sam Allardyce chortled after the match that he “out-tacticed” ((yes, you read that write…I didn’t misspell that)) Jose Mourinho, and asserted that he “doesn’t give a fuck what anybody thinks.” That would include me, I suppose.
Well fuck you too, then Big Sam…here’s what I think.
I think that Chelsea should have broken down your ancient, ham-fisted (pun intended) cave-boy football tactic from the pre-historic days of the 1800’s, no matter what. My gripe with Chelsea is they get bogged down by teams that Park the Bus…and it’s a mental thing with them that needs sorting out. You and I both know that Chelsea should have taken all 3 points.
But then again, Big Sam, I don’t give a shite about what you know or think either.