World Cup, the Day Before · Sunday is the big day. I’m unlikely ever to watch as much of any future World Cup as the combination of the new daughter and Sun’s summer pause made possible this time ...
Germany 0 Italy 2 · Well, that was quite a show. Hey, LazyWeb, where’s the deep, erudite, funny, World Cup commentary to be found? Who’s the Roger Angell of soccer? The best I’ve found is Mondial 2006, but something in my own language would be nice. As for the game: Cannavaro Cannavaro Cannavaro, what else is there to say? [Update: Oscar Merida writes to point at Soccer Blogs, an aggregation with some good stuff, while Marc Lacoste points to les cahiers du football (en français, obviously).] ...
World Cup, the Quarterfinals · I managed to watch most of all four games, and boy, were my predictions ever wrong. The quarterfinals produced few creative triumphs, but were still pretty entertaining ...
2006 World Cup · I enjoy sports on TV, but not enough (usually) to plan ahead on watching them; but we’ve been making an exception for the World Cup. This weekend, I stuck my head in the boy’s room both days and said “eight o’clock” and we watched the quarter-finals together while the girls slept upstairs. [Oops, I wrote this last weekend but apparently never posted it.] ...
2006 World Cup, and More · I watched two complete games and parts of another two, this weekend, and... played in one! Fathers’ Day, you betcha ...
2006 World Cup · I’ve been working quite a bit this week, only managed to catch a couple of games end-to-end live, and some bits and pieces in the evening repeats; I have to say, watching the Cup in high-def on a comfy couch with a comfy newborn on your lap is pretty darn enjoyable. Herewith the week’s notes, starting where the previous instalment left off ...
2006 World Cup · Well, if you’re going to spend three days in a hospital room with a recovering wife and an adjusting newborn, the first few days of the World Cup are the time to do it; I’ve watched six of the first nine matches. Soccer isn’t my favorite spectator sport, but I’m a sucker for a Big Occasion, and sports-wise, this is the biggest. Plus the matches look so great, the flower-bright uniform colours and the arc of the ball in the German sunshine. I totally recommend catching a few, it’s first-rate TV. Herewith some comments on the early going ...
Underground, Invitation, Le kick and rush · I wonder if there’s any real benefit, when someone whom I’ve already highlighted writes something exceptionally good, in pointing to them again and saying “read this!” But sometimes you can’t not do it. Item: my brother Rob on the joy of underground high explosives. Item: Alex Waterhouse-Hayward on Ana Victoria (oh, my). For my last link you’ll have to be able to read a language somewhat but not entirely unlike French; Mondial 2006 is the World Cup 2006 blog from Libération ; its torrent of high-velocity low-rent French baffles me in places, and it doesn’t help that I’m not 100% au fait with les Bleus, but you have to like pieces like Panini, beer & Co.
Hot Chocolate · Saturday soccer practice was at 10AM, 5°C with the wind pushing the rain sideways. Only six of the nine Dragons turned up, but they were in good spirits, played through the pain; but by the end of the hour were looking kind of blue. So I said “Everyone come to the café for hot chocolate” and did they ever brighten up. It’s only a couple of blocks from the dismal gravel field we have to use when it’s too wet for the grass; soon we swarmed noisily into the welcoming warmth. There was a couple in our corner that maybe wanted some quiet Saturday-morning coffee talk, we chased ’em away. One of the parents said “Oh, you shouldn’t pay for them all” but six kid-sized hot chocolates doesn’t cost much and that was more smiles per dollar than just about anything else I can think of.
Have Mercy on Me · It was peer-group pressure that did it. For my sins, I am now the coach of Douglas Park Soccer Under-7 team #3, now known as... hold on, we’ll get there. The need was desperate but I was up-front, said I’m there most Saturdays but mid-week might find me in Slovenia or Tokyo, so they found me a co-coach and now I’m stuck. In my personal memory, coaches are large personages with booming voices and a general air of heartiness, which I shall endeavor to emulate; a whistle and clipboard are on my shopping list. So, during the season-opening ceremonies I convened the team, whom my mathematically-literate readership will have deduced are all six, to choose a name. They were seriously into it, and given the choice between addressing several thousand from a keynote stage or eight eager six-year-olds, it’s not even close. I asked them if they wanted a funny name (Turnips, Potatoes, Carrots), a fierce name (Lions, Tigers, Dragons), or a Vancouver name (Grizzlies, Orcas, Eagles). It’s a mixed league but our team is all-boy, so they they didn’t hesitate, they wanted a fierce name. One skinny little guy, all shorts and shoulderblades, looked at me sincerely and said “How about ‘Stormtroopers’?”, and I was gobsmacked for a moment till I realized this is the video generation and he meant Imperial stormtroopers not Sturmabteilung. “Uh, no.” I said, and then The Dragons carried the day. No, I don’t know what I’m getting into.
