On Monday, England played Mexico in the opening round of the 2011 Women’s World Cup in Wolfsburg, Germany. Now under most circumstances, I have nothing against Mexico….in fact I’m all for Mexico and even if they lose, I want them to at acquit themselves well. I don’t want them to beat the United States, England, Germany, Ireland, or the Czech Republic….but other than that they can win all they want to. I loved in the 2010 Men’s World Cup when they kicked the hell out of the cheatin’ cack-suckin’ Frenchies. But on Monday…all bets were off. And the general goodwill I feel towards Mexico was replaced with a petty and peevish spite.
On Monday, I wanted the gals from England to not only win the match, I wanted them to annihilate and humiliate the Mexicans. I wanted them not only win, but to win decisively and brutally…10-0; 15-0; I wanted the defeat of Mexico to be most shameful defeat in the history of Mexico. I wanted the gals from England to jam a saguaro cactus up each of their Mexican bungholes and stuff the entire Mexican squad into a Volkswagen Rabbit and send it careening the wrong way down the Autobahn at 217km/hr.
It was pure piss ass spitefulness on my part. Because….
There’s the real reason for my spitefulness. USA 2, Mexico, in the final of the CONCACAF Gold Cup at the Rose Bowl in Pasendena on Saturday June 25th. Yes, pure spite on my part against Mexico’s women’s team because the USA men’s team got beat 4-2 by Mexico. And not just beaten, our lads were run out of the gym after blowing a 2-0 lead.
Despite the re-emergence from oblivion of Freddie Adu ((yes THAT Freddie Adu, the former teenage wunderkind who got a pro contract at *cough* age 16 *cough* *cough* and then spiraled downhill into the oblivion of the 2nd level Turkish leagues from there)), the USA played, for the most part, like a bunch of donkeys. No, scratch that…they played like rented mules. And the Mexican team with less obvious talent (the exception being Chicharito) dispatched the Team USA with swiftness and sharpness that our lads struggled to match.
It was a deserved loss, yes. But a perfect rack upon which to hang my hat of undeserved spite. Spitefulness, after all, is what drives a lot of sports fans and makes rivalries such a vital element of sport. Especially undeserved spite.
On a realistic level, it really doesn’t matter how much SPITE you have, or how SPITEFUL you are, since it really won’t affect the outcome. Spitefulness on the field play can make a difference, ofcourse, but usually that results in red-cards, ejections, trips to the penalty box or the NASCAR hauler for a scintillating conversation with Mike Helton & Co. But realistic or not, spite makes up a high percentage of our sporting experience.
So fack you, Mexico!! I shit in your whore mother’s milk!!
What England was unable to accomplish, the Japanese accomplished with thrilling ease. This is a match I wish I could have watched live on Friday. Unfortunately, my work schedule did not allow me watch any matches that day. Homare Sawa’s hat-trick purged all of my spite away for me. And now I’m okay with Mexico again….unless they play the USA, ofcourse…so I’m sorry I shit in your whore mother’s milk, Mexico, sorry about that. But it’s all over now…all in the past…no more spitefulness vis-a-vis Mexico anymore for me.
From the look of it, at least from what I’ve read, Japan has a real solid shot at making a nice run in the Women’s World Cup. They’ve been playing the most consistent football of the bunch and have a lot of weapons. They are a dangerous contenders for the favorites, Brazil, Germany & USA. I can easily see the final 4 being Brazil, Germany, Japan and USA. So there you have it. Japan is viewed as the dark-horse. But another squad is the REAL wild-card in the mix. And yes, there is SPITE involved!
Yes….the fackin’ cheatin’ Frenchies!! Yes…THOSE Frenchies…the ones who cheated Ireland out of a trip to the Men’s World Cup. The one’s who go booted from the World Cup by every team in their Group and returned home in disgrace. So fack the French. Les Blues can bite the bag. Sucez la merde de chien. And so on.
Now this spitefulness against France has nothing to do the women’s team either, mind you. In fact, they seem to be a very good team and play clean honest football. But….THEY ARE STILL FACKIN’ FRENCHIES!! So may they burn in a a hideous autobahn wreck ((like I wanted the Mexicans to do)) until they are beaten down horribly. A based on their only real competition in Group A, I don’t see that happening. The way France is playing right now, I can easily see them beating Germany tomorrow and winning Group A. IF they play the way they played against Canada, that is.
Now all spite aside, I really thought that Canada would give France a great match. Canada played well enough in their opening 2-1 loss to Germany, and I honestly felt that while they probably weren’t going to win, that they would make it another close 2-1 tilt, maybe even sneak out a draw. But such was not the case. With the exception of Chris Sinclair, Canada’s best player, one of the best women’s players in the World, and 3rd on the scoring list among active players ((just behind Germany’s Birgit Prinz and America’s Abby Wambach)), Team Canada played like a bunch of donkeys. It was Chris Sinclair and 10 donkeys. Or as Wayne & Schuster might have put it….Sinclair and 10 lumbering dinosaurs….but nowhere near as funny.
I was sad and heartbreaking to watch, actually. Chris Sinclair had broken her nose in the opening match against Germany….and after a little medical attention on the sidelines, she was back in that match. Ahead of the match with France, there was some doubt if she would start or even play….but there she was in the starting line-up with a mask on. “Wow! How cool is that!!” I thought. But as the match progressed to the bitter end, it was sad and heartbreaking to watch. I really wanted Chris Sinclair to score at least 1 goal. And as the match wore on it became painfully obvious that no one on her team could ever hope to live up to her courage, toughness and ability. France essentially figured that out and shut Sinclair down early, and the rest of the Canadians played sloppy football that made the French look like world beaters. Maybe they are anyway, but Canada sure made it look easy.
Now I suppose I can admit to having a man crush on Chris Sinclair and……..Wait, WTF? Man-crush??!! Uhhhh….LET”S not get into that right now…. Alright, we’ll take the man part out of the crush thing, but don’t force me to descend into a who is the hottest chick in soccer debate….alright dammit….there also handsome men in soccer as well so fair is fair I suppose….but before we flop into some hellish dialogue about having a man-crush on David Villa or something like that…okay fuck it you animals…if the choice is between Hope Solo and Chris Sinclair, I’m going with Chris Sinclair. There. A ye fackin’ satisfied now? Onward.
ANYWAY….it was sad to watch, since she played with all of her considerable might and courage. She even got another knock on her broken nose later in the game, and went to the sidelines to get the blood cauterized and then went right back in. She played heroically, as all great players do (or should). But it was sad to see her at the end of that match. You wanted to ((well…maybe not you, but I did)) just hold her in your arms and comfort her. At the end of the match, seeing her there, I wanted to protect and nurture her. She is definitely the most moe ((pronounced mo-eh)) footballer of all time. So maybe I don’t really have a crush on her after all. Maybe what I have for Chris Sinclair is “a rarefied pseudo-love for certain fictional (and in this case, real) characters (in anime, manga, and the like) and their related embodiments.” Yeh. That’s it. Moe. Kamenekko-moe. Cute soccer girl moe. *psuedo-swoon*
That, and fack the Frenchies.
Tonight is the Firecracker Up Yer Ass 400 from the Gaytona Motor Speedway. Time to hook up with your favourite butt-buddy….decide on who will play butch tonight, and have at it. Mark Martin is on the pole, and it disturbs me greatly to think of him having to do anything vague yaoi. ((Remember that Japanese word from my Talledega post?? It means boys love.)) But such is restrictor plate racing these days.
Now I watched the Subgay Jalapeño In Yer Pooper 250 last night. And it oddly didn’t seem quite as yaoi as the previous restrictor plate races this season. I think the difference maker here was Danica Patrick and how well she raced. She made the pairing up seem not at all odd or unusual….she made it seem like it was simply all in a days work. Work that she did very well. Her presence in the field coupled with how well she’s improved as a stock car racer leached almost all the latent homo and hetero sexual innuendo out the proceedings, though quite likely that was more because of the fact that she was upfront and contending for the win for the entire race. I think she should should quit the IRL at once and come over to NSACAR fulltime.
I wish she was racing in tonight’s boy’s love fest. But…there is always next year…and I can’t wait for that.
Nor as for the spite angle, it would be funny as hell if spite could be thrown aside for night and everything could be kissy-smoochy unicorns and rainbows and Kyle Busch and Kevin Harvick could love on each other for the entire race, holding hands, trading positions ((Oh GOD Kyle….I need to cool down…!” etc etc.))…and Carl Edwards and Brad Kesolowski could hold hands as they scamper merrily to the finish line. Yes…that would be funny as hell. But not bloody likely.The spite will continue and could rear it ugly head at a moments. “You bitch you bitch you BITCH!! You’re such a BRUTE!!” Etc.
And if Jeff Gordon ((see? I’m keeping some of my promise from last time…)) wins, you will see and hear a beastly wail of SPITE rising from the stands like you’ve never heard in NASCAR since the day time began.
And in happier news, USA just beat Columbia 3-0 in a match that was nowhere near as close as the scoreboard would indicate. Not a bit of spite involved there. The match could easily have been 6-0…but Abby Wambach could simply not buy a goal even if she paid cash for it. Sweden is next…she’s due for a hat-trick. That’s about it from the Wide World of Spite. Thanks for reading. Stay on the ball.