A number of things went wrong today. Something was out of whack in the cosmic alignment. Some heathen god has not received its sacrifice.
Ireland 10 - 33 England
It was a sign of things to come this morning when I failed to rise early enough to make it to the library to do work before the 3:00 pm rugby kickoff. It was yet another sign when a mediocre English team took Ireland to task 33-10. In reality, I didn't actually see this match because The Barge was so packed out when we got there that we had to sit on the 3rd floor - where the staff were unwilling to change the channel off of the Manchester United vs. Derby County match. Not that I minded getting to see United...more on this later. England's big-name flyhalf Jonny Wilkinson was dropped from the squad in the run up to this match in favor of the younger Danny Cipriani. While I couldn't see the match, I could hear it over the loudspeakers in the pub, and I must have heard Cipriani's name called 50 times. (At his position, he would have done a lot of scoring through kicks and the like). A sad end for Ireland's 6-Nations campaign and probably the death knell for the manager.
Wales 29 - 12 France
Wales, with this final victory, secured the 6-Nations title and the "Grand Slam," which signifies an defeat of all teams in competition. I understand it was the 10th such Grand Slam for the Welsh, but I heard offhand that it hasn't been done in 101 years (this could be wrong). Apparently Wales has had quite a renaissance under new manager Warren Gatland, a Kiwi who I believe used to be on Ireland's coaching staff. I would very much enjoy seeing Wales face off against South Africa or New Zealand.
Manchester United 1 - 0 Derby County
Many of you are probably saying "Now, Jesse, obviously not everything went badly, you just wanted a dramatic intro to your post so you spat out some spastic nonsense." Well, here's what I'm saying to you. Derby County is probably the worst team that has ever played English Premier League football. (In case you don't know, the bottom 3 teams get relegated to a lower division each year to be replaced by the top 3 from that division, so the teams change). We didn't score until late in the game, and had countless missed opportunities. With every near miss or dink off the post, the players became visibly more frustrated. I think Ronaldo was crying at one point. He did something I haven't seen him do in years: look up into the sky and plead with God after missing a shot. He used to genuflect after doing this as well. When he finally knocked one home late in the 2nd half, he counted out his missed shots on his fingers - 5 I think, before celebrating. We've now reclaimed the top spot from Arsenal, with a game in hand. Oh yeah, and don't ever take that tone with me again. I don't like having to explain myself.
Tennessee 80something - 80something more Arkansas
Yeah, I don't actually know the final score. Why? Because when I saw what was going to happen, I just walked away from the computer. It may have actually been in the 90s for all I know. I'm not really sure who to blame for what happened. Suffice to say we got abused down low - and I do mean abused - but the fact that we committed a foul on every possession and got all of our players in foul trouble didn't help either. The refs controlled the pace of the game. Another reason I don't know the score is because I quit - I'm not looking it up on ESPN. For the last week I've been watching basketball every day, reading all the articles on ESPN about them, hell, I've even watched some NBA games, which if you know me is pretty bizarre. I was actually excited last night when tornadoes hit the Georgia Dome because I thought with the super late game I was going to get to have a basketball sleepover party with myself. But no more. Until I complete the process of getting over this game, the hell with sports. If we get a good draw on Selection Sunday, perhaps I'll quit being a bitch. For now, I'll stay one.
I've got a busy week ahead. Tomorrow, Jaci is arriving early (too early - before God gets up), so we'll have a guest in. Monday is obviously St. Patrick's Day, and it is going to be non stop mayhem in the city all day. Tuesday is my birthday, which doesn't matter here because I can already drink. Oh, and I need to finish two essays before we leave for Scotland next Sunday. The city is crawling with tourists, which get really annoying in a city like Dublin with bad infrastructure. A ramshackle carnival has been set up near Nicole's place of business. There are lots of carnies milling around (small hands, smell like cabbage). One of the rides is titled "American Adventure," and has an airbrushed mural behind it, the center-piece of which is Jerry Rice busting through a brick wall. When I first saw it, I began to laugh so abruptly that I snot-rocketed in front of some people on the sidewalk. It was worth it. I will try to get a photo of this immensely stupid attraction.
In other news, I threw an orange towel into my load of whites without thinking about what I was doing (I only have rights to the washer/dryer/iron maiden for 24 hours a week, sometimes things get desperate). Now, one half of my undershirts and socks are salmon. Is this a tragedy or am I going to be RICH because I'm the only person in the world with access to salmon-colored undershirts? Oh yeah, I forgot there's this store called American Apparel that sells nothing but blank t-shirts and zip-hoodies in every conceivable shade, and make tons of money off of punk-ass scene kids who think they're being fresh with a poorly coordinated neo-80s look. So much for that idea. I have a skin-tight pale yellow polo from there that's good for picking up guys at the Carousel. Not that I've ever done that. What?
I will try to document as well as possible what it's like to be in Dublin on St. Patrick's Day. I say "try" because typing takes small muscle control and we all know that's one of the first things you lose. In the meantime, I'm off to drown my sorrows in green tea and peanut-butter toast. Yeah, I can put honey on it and call it "dessert."
Ireland 10 - 33 England
It was a sign of things to come this morning when I failed to rise early enough to make it to the library to do work before the 3:00 pm rugby kickoff. It was yet another sign when a mediocre English team took Ireland to task 33-10. In reality, I didn't actually see this match because The Barge was so packed out when we got there that we had to sit on the 3rd floor - where the staff were unwilling to change the channel off of the Manchester United vs. Derby County match. Not that I minded getting to see United...more on this later. England's big-name flyhalf Jonny Wilkinson was dropped from the squad in the run up to this match in favor of the younger Danny Cipriani. While I couldn't see the match, I could hear it over the loudspeakers in the pub, and I must have heard Cipriani's name called 50 times. (At his position, he would have done a lot of scoring through kicks and the like). A sad end for Ireland's 6-Nations campaign and probably the death knell for the manager.
Wales 29 - 12 France
Wales, with this final victory, secured the 6-Nations title and the "Grand Slam," which signifies an defeat of all teams in competition. I understand it was the 10th such Grand Slam for the Welsh, but I heard offhand that it hasn't been done in 101 years (this could be wrong). Apparently Wales has had quite a renaissance under new manager Warren Gatland, a Kiwi who I believe used to be on Ireland's coaching staff. I would very much enjoy seeing Wales face off against South Africa or New Zealand.
Manchester United 1 - 0 Derby County
Many of you are probably saying "Now, Jesse, obviously not everything went badly, you just wanted a dramatic intro to your post so you spat out some spastic nonsense." Well, here's what I'm saying to you. Derby County is probably the worst team that has ever played English Premier League football. (In case you don't know, the bottom 3 teams get relegated to a lower division each year to be replaced by the top 3 from that division, so the teams change). We didn't score until late in the game, and had countless missed opportunities. With every near miss or dink off the post, the players became visibly more frustrated. I think Ronaldo was crying at one point. He did something I haven't seen him do in years: look up into the sky and plead with God after missing a shot. He used to genuflect after doing this as well. When he finally knocked one home late in the 2nd half, he counted out his missed shots on his fingers - 5 I think, before celebrating. We've now reclaimed the top spot from Arsenal, with a game in hand. Oh yeah, and don't ever take that tone with me again. I don't like having to explain myself.
Tennessee 80something - 80something more Arkansas
Yeah, I don't actually know the final score. Why? Because when I saw what was going to happen, I just walked away from the computer. It may have actually been in the 90s for all I know. I'm not really sure who to blame for what happened. Suffice to say we got abused down low - and I do mean abused - but the fact that we committed a foul on every possession and got all of our players in foul trouble didn't help either. The refs controlled the pace of the game. Another reason I don't know the score is because I quit - I'm not looking it up on ESPN. For the last week I've been watching basketball every day, reading all the articles on ESPN about them, hell, I've even watched some NBA games, which if you know me is pretty bizarre. I was actually excited last night when tornadoes hit the Georgia Dome because I thought with the super late game I was going to get to have a basketball sleepover party with myself. But no more. Until I complete the process of getting over this game, the hell with sports. If we get a good draw on Selection Sunday, perhaps I'll quit being a bitch. For now, I'll stay one.
While writing this post, I set an all-time personal record for fart duration.
I've got a busy week ahead. Tomorrow, Jaci is arriving early (too early - before God gets up), so we'll have a guest in. Monday is obviously St. Patrick's Day, and it is going to be non stop mayhem in the city all day. Tuesday is my birthday, which doesn't matter here because I can already drink. Oh, and I need to finish two essays before we leave for Scotland next Sunday. The city is crawling with tourists, which get really annoying in a city like Dublin with bad infrastructure. A ramshackle carnival has been set up near Nicole's place of business. There are lots of carnies milling around (small hands, smell like cabbage). One of the rides is titled "American Adventure," and has an airbrushed mural behind it, the center-piece of which is Jerry Rice busting through a brick wall. When I first saw it, I began to laugh so abruptly that I snot-rocketed in front of some people on the sidewalk. It was worth it. I will try to get a photo of this immensely stupid attraction.
In other news, I threw an orange towel into my load of whites without thinking about what I was doing (I only have rights to the washer/dryer/iron maiden for 24 hours a week, sometimes things get desperate). Now, one half of my undershirts and socks are salmon. Is this a tragedy or am I going to be RICH because I'm the only person in the world with access to salmon-colored undershirts? Oh yeah, I forgot there's this store called American Apparel that sells nothing but blank t-shirts and zip-hoodies in every conceivable shade, and make tons of money off of punk-ass scene kids who think they're being fresh with a poorly coordinated neo-80s look. So much for that idea. I have a skin-tight pale yellow polo from there that's good for picking up guys at the Carousel. Not that I've ever done that. What?
I will try to document as well as possible what it's like to be in Dublin on St. Patrick's Day. I say "try" because typing takes small muscle control and we all know that's one of the first things you lose. In the meantime, I'm off to drown my sorrows in green tea and peanut-butter toast. Yeah, I can put honey on it and call it "dessert."
3 comments:
"Before God gets up", nice. And yeah, we did have a lot of chances today vs. Derby, who I must say, are the WORST team I have EVER seen since I started following the EPL 4 years ago. They are like the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, they suck so bad. But yeah, once again Ronaldo bailed us out. Hope you have fun on St. Pat's day! Don't get tooo drunk. lol.
Jesse, I'm enjoying your rants here and stay up too late reading them. I have to be quiet when something you write strikes me as funny because it will wake everyone up. Anyway, I lift a pint or two of green beer (yuk) up to you for your birthday and hope your adventures continue to be life changing and not life threatening. HI to Nicole!!! Love ya Uncle Mike.
Enjoy that green beer. I don't know if they do that here, I guess its kinda hard to turn black stuff green, but we'll see.
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