How to Make Soccer a Man’s Game

It was a long day of gardening, power washing, and sweaty labour around the homestead. So when the Old Ruminator finally settled down before the tube, there really wasn’t much to watch except the eternal tournament known as the World Cup. Two weeks now, and they’ve FINALLY finished the first round. But the the Old Ruminator will watch anything resembling sport rather than the regular TV fare. So it was Slovakia and Italy at half-time, when I tuned in. At one point a Slovakian player was so crippled by incidental contact that he had to be carried off the field on a stretcher. But wait…he no sooner got on the sidelines, then he was ready to go again and back on the field he went. Then it was the turn of the Slovakian Goalkeeper, a high-drama queen who went into convulsions when he was brushed by an Italian player. As he writhed and winced in the fetal position the referee indicated he knew it was a farce and motioned for the goalie to stand up. Finally, it seems the referee said something to him…perhaps “You f…k,,.g a…hole, get your ass off the ground and stop behaving like a f….g..t or you’re out of the game”. The goalie snapped to attention like someone waking from a bad dream.
On and on it went…with the Slovaks behaving like pansies and the Italians eventually deciding..”well it seems to be working for them” and they too joined in. Meanwhile, there were a few goals which tended to make the outcome kind of interesting.
Two things could turn this “sport” into a man’s game.
Get rid of the fruity, histrionic, phoney, play-acting of injuries….a practice which is a disgrace to the male gender.
Secondly, let them fight for the ball for heavens sake. Every single time two guys go for the ball…one of them goes down like he’s been shot between the eyes and the referee seems to be compelled to give the other side a free kick. Bullshit. Let them both fight for the ball and let the best man win. That would dramatically cut down on the interminable stoppages and histrionics and might even determine who is the better soccer player as opposed to the better drama queen.

Wasting Away in Africaville

Well, the Old Ruminator got sucked into the hype once more. You’d think after all these years and all those disappointments of trying to give “The Beautiful Game” a fair chance, I would have learned. But, once again, I got sucked into all the hype and have wasted at least 10 hours watching six very important games in the opening round of the tournament.
There’s only one word to describe the World Cup of Soccer. ”BORRRIIINNNGG”.
Tonight it was the Ivory Coast and the greatest player in Africa playing Portugal, whose team boasts the second greatest player in the World. Final score… 0 – 0.
In the six games, plus assorted other partial games I’ve viewed….there’s been ONE goal. It was a bogus call….a phony penalty shot awarded to Ghana which clinched the game with about 3 minutes remaining. What a joke. A guy stands in front of a monstrous net and shoots the ball in. The goalie hasn’t got a chance unless he, by some fluke, guesses which way the ball is going to go. What kind of athletic test of skill is that?
The whole game stinks. They need to fix the offside rule. They need to stop interference. They need to put up boarding to allow the ball to stay in the play. They need to shrink the field. And don’t tell me the game is too “pure” to change. Apparently they have no problem re-inventing a different ball for every World Tournament. This year’s tournament ball is so light, it sails way over the head of defenders at every penalty kick.
The only good thing I have to say about his odious nonsense is that there does not appear to be as much cry-babying going on this year. The Ivory Coast players this evening seemed to drop like a shot deer at every opportunity but they only writhed and wriggled on the ground for 30 seconds or so before getting back into the play. It’s not only a disgrace to them but a disgrace to the entire gender of men to behave in such a pansy assed fashion. It’s a real shame, because the players are clearly very well-conditioned athletes. But they’re wasting their time on one of the most boring spectacles to ever hit prime time television.
I’ll give it one more try….when the final, final games come round, but I’m not very optimistic that things are going to get any better.

Globe n Mail Exhumes Dead Horse

The Globe and Mail had pretty well beaten the “Possible Torture of Terrorists” to death, but now it’s found a shocking fact to once again grace it’s front pages as the summer dog-days of news approach. Apparently, the Canadian military was worried that the simpleton diplomat, Richard Colvin, was a “liability”. No kidding! What a shocker! Here we are, engaged in a war against the most hideous of members of humanity and we have to fight a rear gaurd action against an overpaid, pate-stuffed diplomat who’s apparently been sent to Afghanistan to second-guess our indelicate treatment of captured terrorists. Just what every army needs…a bunch of mamby pamby bureaucrats with “suspicions” sending an endless stream of diplomatic notes hither and thither about the unpleasantness of the conditions in which captured prisoners must reside.

The Globe needs to get it’s reporters on some REAL stories.