CNN's Piers Morgan (left) does a weird thing with his mouth after he
speaks. His lips pinch tight. As if the torpedo tube is being sealed until the next salvo. It can
be quite intimidating. It fits the style of a man who was previously employed as a tabloid editor
in the warfare of English newspapers.
The Beckhams will not be setting up their French court much to the chagrin of Paris society.
The French elites had been predicting which side of the Seine the Court of Beckham would be
established. Existentialists in cafes debated whether this important choice would determine whether
he played in left or right midfield for Paris St.
Socrates, the great Brazilian soccer maverick, has died at age 57. Those who saw him play were
moved by his style. He glided over the grass, his intelligence working the angles, carving space,
inspirational and beautiful. He was unlike the other midfield maestro of his era Maradona. The
Argentine was a short squat explosive; Socrates embodied elegance and poise, something special, the
man with the golden heel.
When a self-righteous man becomes obsessed with a powerful enemy, flames are almost a certainty.
Real Madrid coach Jose Mourinho, self-described as "the special one," is setting fire to Spanish
soccer with dangerous fireworks that some fear may spark a bigger conflagration on the parched
tinder of that fractured entity called Spain.
They are the imperial power of world soccer, from a Spanish region of rebels and independents,
an elite and the deepest example of soccer dominance in years here is a possession stat from their
most recent Champions League fixture: roughly 70% Barcelona 30% Arsenal this is more impressive
than the Roman Empire's field control at its peak.
If you are small and are forced to wear a big overcoat things can get hot and dizzy and you can
find yourself out of place. This best describes the intimate bedfellows of Scottish soccer, Glasgow
Rangers and Glasgow Celtic. Scotland's biggest clubs thrive on a fierce, globally supported rivalry
rooted in another country's past troubles Ireland.
Today is Saint David's Day that would be the Welsh equivalent of St. Patrick's Day, noted more
for picking daffodils than drinking with the leprechauns. In Brit soccer, there is one unique Welsh
rare-bit, and this week he celebrates his twentieth year with one club, loyalty almost unheard of
these days they sing his name in the Welsh valleys, his sublime soccer skills run like poems he is
Ryan Giggs (left) of Manchester United.
It has been reported that Egypt's soccer "ultras" played a significant role in fomenting the
revolution. Next door in Libya, Colonel Gadaffi sent his "soccer star" son, Saadi, into the streets
with cheering fans from Tripoli's two clubs, Al Ahly Tripoli and Alittihad, implying that Libyan
soccer was not revolutionary but the vanguard of the status quo.
They call it "the hairdryer." It is one of the most feared spectacles in soccer. Manchester
United's coach, Sir Alex Ferguson, ignites his temper with a blast of scalding curses blistering
his trembling victims. Over the years, many players have felt the burn, the latest being star Wayne
Rooney.
You have a dream that you were at a party and the record player's needle was stuck in a groove
prompting the revelers to do the same dance move over and over again, for years, decades, eternity.
Frightened, you look at the scores on Goal.com. Chelsea 6 Wigan 0. Chelsea 6 West Bromwich 0. You
will never wake up.
(Aiden Mc Geady)
In Glasgow, Scotland, the year 1690 is today's date. No, don't check your calendar, this
calendar only sells in the West of Scotland. And if you need more confirmation of this fact, just
ask Aiden McGeady, the former Glasgow Celtic player who has just made a move from Celtic to Spartak
Moscow, not for soccer reasons, but because of death threats.
Icelandic team Stjarnan's goal performance was a big catch on the internet last week. If you
missed it, the goal scorer reeled in a fish-like flopping teammate who was scooped up into a net of
teammates' hands. Such theater! Football acting troupes around the world will be preparing their
own moves.
If World Cup nations were on Dr. Freud's couch:
USA I need to belong
England I feel like a loser, again
Germany I will win, I will win, I will win!
Italy I want my mama!
France Nobody likes me, I'm a ball fondler
Holland I feel flat, again
Brazil I can't stop partying
Argentina My name is Diego, and I'm an alcoholic
Mexico I hate the neighbor, he's making my life miserable, and I want him to go away
Paraguay I like to dress up in uniforms
Uruguay I feel as if I am invisible
Chile I feel warm but people think I'm cold
Honduras People think I'm a cigar
North Korea I like to recite poetry and kill as many people as possible
South Korea I'm always afraid
Portugal I feel superior.
Andoni Giokotxea - maybe the most violent player ever
In the old days, when the tackle from behind was legal, and defenders were given respect not for
their play but out of fear, the golden boys of soccer were afraid to turn their backs on goal.
Lurking behind them like blood thirsty sharks were tough nuts like Spain's Andoni Goikoetxea, the
Butcher of Bilbao, his nom de guerre, or the inappropriately named Claudio Gentile, an
Italian on a mission to stop anything that moved.
To imagine how the USA is going to fare in the World Cup Finals, we could look down the yellow
brick road, and dream of bringing the trophy home to Kansas. But who should lead the team – the
straw man with his brain, the tin man with his heart or the lion with his courage?
If the straw man leads, the players will be on the plane home after round one.
