I Don’t Understand Fútbol

footballLike most North Americans, I watch fútbol (soccer) every four years.  I go World Cup crazy like everybody else on this planet, but when it’s over, I go back to regular sports … mostly football (football) and hockey.  It’s not that I don’t like fútbol; I do.   As a spectator sport, it’s got it all.  The joy of victory, the agony of defeat, sweat, testosterone, talented young men doing incredible things with their balls, wives and girlfriends so hot they could resurrect the libido of a dead man, and, of course, billionaire owners, buying and selling players like it’s a Zanzibar auction.  Which brings us to the reason I’m even talking about fútbol in the dead air of August.

It’s all very complicated, but here’s the decaf version.

There’s a player called Neymar (apparently, really good fútbol players are only allowed one name — i.e. Ronaldo, Messi, etc.) who’s changing teams — from Barcelona to Paris St-Germain.  No big deal, right?  Except this involves buying out his contract.  And get this!  His contract is worth 222 million Euros (263 million dollars!)  WTF!  That’s more than the entire payroll of the New York Yankees — the winningest franchise in sports history.  It’s more than the national debt of Haiti.  It’s unbelievable!  Hell, there’s probably a lab in China where you could have an entire team biologically built — from scratch — for that price.  I’m not kidding!  Not only that, but once he gets to Paris St-Germain (PSG) they’re going to pay him 40 million Euros a year to play.  That’s over €100,000 a day — every day — including Christmas.  Double WTF!  But — for serious grins — when the lawyers showed up with a suitcase full of money to purchase Neymar’s services, the Spanish League initially wouldn’t accept it.  They said it violated Uefa’s Financial Fair Play rules.  Financial Fair Play?  Guys, the cash in this contract could feed every man, woman and child in Mali for a year or more.  Financial fair play has nothing to do with it.  Besides, think about it.  Uefa’s governing body is FIFA; these are the boys who could give shyster lessons to the Russian Mafia.  Trust me!  They wouldn’t know fair play if it bit them on the bum.

Actually, I have nothing against anybody making as much money as possible from their talents.  So, despite the fact I think it’s obscene, if PSG wants to pay 40 million Euros for a kid to kick a ball every once in a while, I have no objections.  Good on ya, Neymar!  The reason I don’t watch fútbol is I simply don’t understand how it works.  I can’t follow all the different leagues, all the different teams and all the different games.  I never know who’s doing what with whom or why.  So, I wait — and every four years, when people start waving flags I recognize, I cheer — ’cause that’s what I understand — like most people in North America.

Truth

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Despite what philosophers and college sophomores try to tell you, Truth is not an elusive beast.  It’s not some shy chimera, hiding in a morally ambiguous forest, feeding on tender buds of nuance and leafy shoots of supposition.  It’s not semantically ambivalent.  It’s not coloured in a million shades of grey.  It’s not a matter of opinion.  Nope! None of the above!  Truth is real.  It’s big.  It’s bold.  It’s etched in stone.  And I can prove it.  Here are some hardcore facts — no ifs, buts, or maybes.  This is Truth, and it’s happening all around us.

The square of the hypotenuse (the side opposite the right angle) is equal to the sum of the squares of the other two sides.

There are three kinds of people in the world — those who understand math and those who don’t.

Your family always knows which buttons to push because they installed them.

Rock Bottom has a basement.

Paris is always a good idea.

The distance between loser and lover is sometimes measured in tequila.

Pregnant women are smug.

If you keep your clothes long enough, they might eventually come back into style — but by the time they do, they won’t fit.

A low-cut neckline beats a bad hair day every time.

The probability of red wine getting spilled on white carpet is directly related to the cost of the carpet, not the cost of the wine.

The only birthdays that actually matter are 18, 21, 40, 50 and 60.

And my favourite:

Everybody wants a sensitive man until the sonofabitch actually shows up.

10 Things You Need To Have A Good Life — Plus 1

 

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Forget all the How-to books.  Forget the Websites that promise everlasting bliss.  Forget the TV lifestyle evangelists who market happiness as if it were Cheerios™.  And forget the sage advice of old people who quite likely screwed it up when they were young.  There are only 10 things (plus one) you actually need to have a good life.  So, put on your metaphorical thinking caps and read on.

Warm socks on a cold night.

A little bit of hungry.  People who think they have everything … usually don’t.

Time to enjoy the beverage of your choice at the end of the day.

Rain after long silence.  Mist, showers, downpour, storm — nothing quenches the soul like rain.

Someone who looks at you as if you’re the only zebra at the lioness convention.

Tired, the last option of accomplishment.

Pee-your-pants funny.

The reassuring comfort of old-friend underwear.

A howl and a dance.

Never finding out the lover’s lie.

And most importantly:

Someone who actually listens to your plots, plans, ideas and complaints.  Even if it’s only the dog.