Sunday, June 25, 2006

Party Like It's 1499

Does anyone know if the Netherlands and Portugal ever actually went to war, back when they were both huge imperialist colonializing influences? I mean, I know Portugal and Spain got their dicks all tangled up and some Pope had to draw a line in 1497 or so to keep them each in their own corners. But watching today's knockout game (won by Portugal, 1-0), you'd have thought these two had been at war for 500 years.

There is a lot of invective being hurled at the referee, who was some poor Russian bastard whose name I can't be bothered to look up. Stunning, that whole invective thing. It wasn't his fault. I mean, there's been a parade of stoplight-colored cards throughout the tournament, and FIFI has pretty much affirmed that this is the appropriate way for officials to act this time around. It was beginning, at times, to look like the game would finish up with each side playing 7 men.

But the poor Russian was keeping control of the game as best he could. You see, the Portos are bastards, just stone cold diving pussies who get up and take a swing at someone when the dive doesn't go their way, and swing and bite and kick when it does. They may well top the Italians for sheer diving pussitude (I will work to invent a scoring system for this, using the Italians and the Los Angeles Galaxy as benchmarks). Luis Figo is a fucking tramp, a painted, unpantied slut trolling for fouls. Deco, who as far as I could tell got red-carded for picking up the ball and trying to run away with it as a time-wasting measure after a foul was called on Portugal, is Figo's sister in gang-bangery.

The Dutch, on the other hand, are Nazis, and the combination of a one-goal deficit and all those swarthy Portuguese swaying their asses just drove the poor Gouda-gobblers plumb crazy. The result was one of the dirtiest but most entertaining soccer games I've ever seen, made the more so because I seriously dislike both teams.

I now have a new result to hope for, beyond underdog upsets or flaming meteors. I am now rooting for sheer, medieval hostility among Eurotrash teams. It's really a fucking shame that England and France can't play before the final.


whispers said...

The English commentators were aghast at all the cards flying. And then they slowly realized "Deco's going to miss the England game!" at which point they starting mixing delighted laughter with their criticisms. "Bad ref!" *snicker* "Let the Portuguese play!" *snicker*

Is it me, or does Luis Figo look like he had a supporting role in Love Boat: the Next Wave?

Landru said...

It's not you, Doctor Death.