Boutros Boutros-Ghali

Meg moved all our furniture a while ago, and it meant that we had to retune the television. One channel that we didn't get when the thing was six feet from where it is now was the local Spanish-language channel. They appear to show three types of programme: soap operas (mostly akin to the glossy American ones), utterly demented entertainment shows (Noel's House Party on LSD), and football. Lots and lots of football. Granted, I don't understand a word of it, and since it's probably the the Mexican League or something, I don't recognise any of the teams or players, but it's free footie on the telly. I don't even get that at home.

There's also this bloke who turns up, apparently randomly, during commercial breaks to presumably report the football results. Again, I don't know if that's actually what he's doing as I can't understand a word of Spanish, but he talks over footage of goal celebrations and the like, so I assume that he's some sort of Central American Des Lynam. He pops up for literally about fifteen seconds, enough to talk over a tiny bit of footage from a game, and then signs off with a military salute. I can't help but think of Chanel 9.

Take Me Out To The (Foot)Ball Game

I got hold of some free tickets to go and see the local footie team playing at the Metrodome, and never one to pass up a freebie, we went along to see how the Americans play The Beautiful Game. It was a fourth round cup match between our lot and the LA Galaxy, who are a proper Major League Soccer (euch) team, and thus technically superior to the Thunder, who are in the next division down (the approximate equivalent of the first division...sorry, the "Championship"). The Minnesotans have proven to be quite handy (well, not literally, obviously) at football and were the runners-up in the league last season, so it shouldn't have been a total rout.

But it was. Just not in the direction we'd expected.

Minnesota were all over the Californians in the first half, and held them to a stalemate in the second. It was in that first half that Minnesota scored the only goal of the game, but the one that gave them their first victory ever over a Major League (euch) team, and that puts them through to the next round. Minnesota were firmly in control, much to the obvious frustration of the Californians, as they began a series of dirty fouls, even punching the Minnesotan goalie in the throat at one point. It didn't help that the referee was completely incompetent, veering from oversensitivity to apparent blindness at random. But at the end of the day, Minnesota were the better team and they deserved to win.I could certainly do without the music played throughout the game, however. It may be necessary during the suicidal tedium that is baseball, but it's a bit intrusive when there's actually stuff going on. Less of the music thanks. And drop that national anthem rubbish too. For international games, it's fine, but it's getting in the way here.

The strangest part of the evening came when I glanced through the match programme, looking at the player profiles, only to find this image. Allegedly, this is Minnesota Thunder player Brent Jacquette, but it looks more to me like a certain Mr Patrick Booth of the city of London. I'd been told that he'd moved to Liverpool to study archaeology, but on the basis of this evidence, I'm not so sure that that's the truth after all...

Not Very Convincing...

...but it's the result that counts. Let's hope they stay in the First Division for longer this time around.

Brighton are fourth in the table, which isn't too bad, especially given that we lost our best player to Tottenham (and theye're not even using him properly...sheesh). Only five games into the season though, so let's not get too excited!
As for my other team, well they're doing pretty well. They're into the divisional playoffs, and are favourites to win. Surprising.
I still can't believe that the Americans have teams called the Rochester Ragin' (note the apostrophe) Rhinos, and the Syracuse Salty Dogs(who actually call it "football" and not "soccer"...blimey). I'm not sure a British team would get away with that kind of language.

I'm currently waiting on a lot of lovely items in the post. I won a couple of things on eBay, the first time I've ever used the service. I've also got a reprint of one of my favourite comics of all time on its way from the spectacular Regie Rigby, a mystery package from the piratical Cap'n Black, and a HUGE bundle of items from my wayward brother, including the a DVD of the excellent Battle Royale, which is stupidly unavailable over here. I'm sure it'll all arrive over the next couple of weeks, which will make it a sort of added birthday gift, but it's annoying to rush to the postbox every day to find nothing but bills or junk, especially when I know things are coming. It's also strange to have to go to a postbox to get my mail, rather than have it pop through the front door. It's the little things, you know?

Football, isn't it? Funny old game.
I'll be a Brighton fan until I die, but I've decided to enter into the spirit of things and pick a second team to support. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Minnesota Thunder Professional "Soccer" Team. They're not in the "world famous" MLS, but if that's the Premier League, they're in the First Division, or A-League as they call it over here. Alas, supporting a top-flight team evades me even here, in the Land That Football Forgot.
Actually, they're not too bad, as American teams go. They're at the top of the Central Divsion of the Western Conference, which puts them fifth in the national league. Why the Americans need such a confusing system, I don't know.
Also, if anyone can tell me what "Magic" means in terms of footie, I'd love to know, because "the Thunder" have 25 Magic points...