Thursday, September 27, 2007

About Last Night

I went to this here futbol game last night with bDr and the one that you know as the Hamster. It was quite odd, being outnumbered at the home ground by supporters of the other team (Steinberg suggests in the story above that it was 50-50, but it didn't feel that way--we were, of course, on a very black loud side, and quiet side and the end zone looked mighty red and white). The game itself was damnably strange, and very, very tense after beloved Terp phenom Marc Burch was (more or less justifiably) sent off just before half time. United had a lot of difficulty possessing the ball to any effect--indeed, even possessing the ball at all--and a lot of the game was played on defense.

But I leave it to bDr and these guys to report the facts. The item of interest, from a purely self-validating perspective (and what else matters here?), is that I was on the concourse, smoking a cigarette, wearing my DCU jersey with number 45 (my brand-new age when bDr gave me the jersey) and my nom de bloog sprayed across the back, and a guy walks up to me suggesting that Landru is an unusual name. I replied, as I usually do, that it's an old nickname, not going into the Trekkie-cereal killer-rhymes-with-orange spiel that you four faithful readers know so well. He smiled and allowed as how he knew a blogger by that name, and after I cautiously admitted that I might know of such a thing, he introduced himself as D. Joy and celebrity worship ensued. Me worshipping him, I mean--no one other than my cat could possibly think of me as an object of worship, and even he's a little sketchy on the concept when I'm not obeying orders from the Kitty Planet.

I can report that D is a fine human being and that I'd have had a hard time putting that persona with his blogging voice (what I'm saying is that in person, he effervesces, while I think his blogging voice is a lot more neutral and steady and objective). Nothing unusual about that.

Great to meet you, D. Let's do that again.


D said...

It was great to meet you. Interesting fact: After the match, when I make it home, I mention to my wife that I had met both you and BDR. She asks me to repeat your name. I do. She says "You know what the name is a reference to, don't you?" I say, "um, no. I thought it was just a portmanteau word of some sort." She then goes on to explain to me about supercomputers, and men in yellow uniforms, and I must admit, I had no idea. Of course, she would know these things. You would not need your spiel for her.

ilse said...

no one other than my cat could possibly think of me as an object of worship

I'm hurt.