NO SERIOUSLY THOUGH, I'M ALIVE.

While TIET's hella-extended post-WC hiatus continues feel free to creep up on our other homes on the the web:

F*ck Yeah Canadian Soccer

Tumblr is the new black blah blah.

And now back to your usual dust collecting.

Dame xx

WHEREIN I SIGN OFF... FOR NOW

[Up in this blog for no apparent reason: Ah, what better way to finish this

thing off. Carlos Bocanegra second from the left. I'm just as confused as you are.]

As the drunkity-drunk celebratory videos and pictures finally stop trickling through so too comes the end of our little mini-blog. It's been fun, guys. As ThisIsExtraTime went on an extended hiatus some time ago, it was nice to have this shiny new place to corrupt all on my own... to have my complain-y moments and such: google-stalking the Yanks, laughing at the Germans and bitching about the CBC. I truly didn't realize how much I actually missed this stuff.

So, a massive thank you to the few of you who followed along throughout the past month or so. An extra special thanks of course goes out to those who followed me over here from TIET. You are love, basically. In regards to the future of TIET, I'm currently working on a redesign and will be re-launching that ever-loving graveyard of a blog again in September. Same crap, different pile.

In the meantime however, better blogs can be found in the Recommended Reading section. Personal faves include Pitch Invasion, Unprofessional Foul, A More Splendid Life, The Offside Rules (for all your Yank google-stalking needs, really), From a Left Wing, Needs More Kittens, Dirty Tackle and yes, ONTD f***ing Football (don't hate the spunky and spectacularly raucous fangirl presence, people -- appreciate).

Until next time!

xo Dame

TIET TMI du Jour: Thierry Henry has officially retired from international football. Yes, obvious news is obvious. Nevertheless I will cling to this opportunity to spam myself with pictures of a 21 year old Titi at the 1998 WC like David Beckham clings to England. And I'll probably throw in some vintage Bobby Pires and Paddy Vieira for good taste. Don't try to console me with the Red Bulls chatter either. It won't help.

YANKS: AT THE ESPYS

[I have no idea why Steve and Buddle are standing so far away like that. It's making me nervous. Let's hope these fellas aren't about to go all France on us.]

Landon's goal against Algeria won Best Moment at the ESPYs tonight. I won't beat around the bush here, people: each and every one of these men could so get it right now. Yes, even you Landycakes.

In other news, Maury has spoken. Landon is not the father -- he told E! Online in a red carpet interview: 'I will not be a dad any time soon, which is good news for me.' Don't lie and pretend like you're all happy for him and stuff. We both know you were looking forward to a crazy sex scandal hitting American soccer upside the head like Gerard Pique's spit hitting the back of an old dude's neck.

Oh, and he's back with Bianca.

THE SPAIN PARTYING CONTINUES, PIQUE CAN BARELY STAND UP STRAIGHT

[Pique spits on someone. Precious.]

There are a lot of different types of drunks: the crier, the angry drunk who feels the urge to fight with anyone and anything (true story: I was at a party once where a dude got into a fight with a bathroom door. don't ask.), the drunk who tells you that she loves you and everyone and 'THIS PARTY IS AWESOME, WHOOOO!' Then there's Gerard Pique's type. He'll probably wake up when all the partying is over (and this feels never-ending...) with a few people still really pissed at him because he took a joke or two too far. We won't even get into the Cesc/Barcelona shirt incident.

WHEREIN THE ANTICLIMACTIC NATURE OF THE WORLD CUP BECOMES OBVIOUS

[Torres makes his way home after winning the World Cup: I know I'm not the only one who got extra close to my screen in order to figure out what was on his laptop.

Someone call the creeper police.]

World Cup finals always feel oddly anticlimactic. Maybe it's because every movement becomes so deliberate that the whole match seems to be going in slow motion. Maybe it's because the sense of occasion is so immediately apparent to everyone that surreality enters the picture. Like, is this real life? Another World Cup final? But it looks like a normal match. The grass is still green and aside from Shakira jaunting about in a bikini top and some extensive hand-shaking taking place before kick-off, everything looks the same.

Whatever the reason, the urge to play that free-flowing, 'let's-get-up-there-and-score-a-goal-already!' football has dissipated by the time the World Cup final rolls around. It's a wholly different affair -- as it should be. At this point, the urge to watch that kind of football has left you entirely as well. Foolishly chucking the ball at the goal 'just 'cause' would not longer be put into the 'harmlessly ambitious' category. It would be downright inexcusable now. The time for mistakes -- an adventurous kind of football -- is gone.

Despite the slightly subdued sights on the field though, the tension is always there. It's what renders the weary sort of football we see at World Cup finals bearable. Enjoyable, even. Every time anyone makes a run into the final third or a free kick is given: is this it?! Is this going to be the goal that will live on in highlight reels for all time?

Sigh! No, Ramos misses. And the whole game seems to go on like that.

Simultaneously, and sort of ironically, it's that sense of something always about to happen that kind of, well, ruins it too. You're no longer able to just sit back and enjoy things anymore. Nothing's ever really a genuine surprise. Everything is so hotly anticipated that when it happens a small voice in the back of your mind cries, 'Well it's about fucking time!' When Dutch Kung Fu master Nigel de Jong launches an MMA style high kick into Xabi Alonso's chest, you think, 'Well, the way this was going... that was bound to happen.'

SARA AND IKER SHARE AN AWWWWWWW MOMENT

[Yes, 'awwwwwww' is the correct descriptive word.]

Yeah, well, I guess you can't argue with that. If that doesn't shut the Sara Carbonero haters up than I don't know what will.

WORLD CUP FINAL, SCHMINAL

[Octopus looks far too eager.]

It's difficult to care about a World Cup final that includes two of your most loathed teams. In this case, Spain and the Netherlands. Spain because they're... well... Spain and I've never liked them. And the Netherlands because they're not supposed to win. It's just the way it is. Neither teams have really done anything at this tournament to change my opinion of them either. This coming from a girl who took Uruguay under her wing when they knocked out Ghana in what, at the time, seemed like the biggest dick move of all time. But 1 nil victories and chucking the ball around like 12-year-olds running through a passing drill? Yeah, You can keep whatever you've got Spain. Today will hardly be a classic.

BREAKING: SOCCER IS AGAINST GOD

['Just 'cause it got a ball it don't make it a sport.']

Soccer is a satanic game according to this dude. I'm especially enjoying the part where he breaks down all the different 'types' of Mexicans who play soccer. It's obvious that he's still butt-hurt about not making the team in middle school.

via Spoiler

VIDEO: ANNOYING PAPARAZZI LADY FOLLOWS CRISTIANO AROUND NEW YORK

[That man-bag makes my life.]

'Someone's probably going to break your legs ... could be Rooney'
Ah, grudges never die do they, England?

THE OCTOPUS CALLED IT

[Spain through to the final. I don't have to like it.]

History made in Durban today as Spain book a ticket to their first final ever. Someone get this Octopus insured.

A TRIBUTE AND FOND FAREWELL TO DIEGO FORLAN'S HAIR O' DISTRACTION

[Without a doubt the hardest working headband at this tournament. -- photo via toksuede]

Diego is 31 right now so it's highly likely that we'll never see his pretty hair sway about in the unique and inimitable fashion that it does at a World Cup ever again. Few footballers lay claim to hair as goddamned bouncy. It's not even on a regular level of bounciness (see: Camoranesi '06) for christ's sake. What kind of product is this dude using? Diego's 'do is downright hypnotizing. A few times I've caught myself momentarily mesmerized by those bouncy blond locks, completely forgetting that, oh yeah, there was a match being played.

Edi Cavani too gets an honourable mention for having such fantastically distracting hair. But we shan't get too down about that man-child (braces!) -- he'll be back to play at the World Cup another day.

WHEREIN JOHN COLLINS CONTINUES TO BE POOOOOOR AND THE CBC CONTINUE TO ANNOY ME

[Collins: 'Poor defending by the centre half.'

Geez, so didn't expect you to say that, John.]

Former Fulham player John Collins joined CBC's commentating team during this World Cup and the 'expert analysis' he has contributed thus far can be accurately described in one word: Poor. Not that his analysis has been literally poor -- although, yes, there's that as well -- this is more about the fact that the man cannot divorce himself from saying the word 'poor' at least 20 zillion times in every single segment he's in. Grating doesn't even begin to describe it. The other day's Holland/Brazil quarterfinal presented the man with yet another opportunity to be an obnoxious broken record and disappoint he did not. After Jason de Vos finished giving his ramble on how Holland managed against Brazil's non-defense, Scott Russell (who, bless him, is likely being briefed during each break on how to simply pronounce players' names properly) turns to Collins and asks what his thoughts are. Of course, our Collins pipes up with what has become an old stand-by for him during this tournament: 'Poor defending. Poor goalkeeping.' That was it. That was all he said. Other canned responses from John have included: 'Poor finishing', 'no chance' and his signature 'Pooooooor'. The man can't be stopped.

Worse than John Collins' poooooor analysis has been the CBC insisting that we be subjected to the opinions of drunk fans at half time. Via field reporters stationed at different ethnic bars around Toronto, viewers are made to put up with a variation of the same thing every day:

Saphia Khambalia (shouting over a crowd in Little Portugal) : Who do you think is going to win today?

Fan wearing a Portugal shirt, scarf, etc. replies: PORTUGAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLL!!!!!!! WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Saphia Khambalia: Back to you, Scott.

I get it, CBC. I get that Canada's a funny old place to be a football fan. I get that once World Cup fever hits, Torontonians en masse bust out their grandmum's/grandad's/mother's/father's/distant- relative-you-spoke-to-one-time's flag and go nuts for a team that they don't give a hoot about for the four years in between World Cups. Your concerted effort to package the multiculturalism of this city which, is already very visible during the World Cup without all your extensive spotlighting (please see: car flags and College street during Italy games) is veering into try-hard territory. Scratch that, actually. It has arrived in the land of try-hard. It has set up shop, put in a down payment on a nice house in the suburbs and is now planning a family.

[During Spain/Paraguay: 1. Reporter promptly screws up David Villa's name. Where's Scott Russell's people when you need them, huh? 2. When she asks the Paraguay fan on the right what he thought of his team's performance in the first half he says he 'wasn't really paying attention' and then rambles on about how he only just started following Paraguay that morning after hearing about 'this really hot fan'. I wish I were joking.]

A gaffe of Chris Kamara proportions from the CBC's man in South Africa, Kim Brunhuber, completed the CBC's circle of epic-fail today when Brunhuber lamented that Dirk Kuyt hadn't scored a goal yet in this tournament. You are physically there at World Cup, right, Kim? Watching the matches and such? Well, watch harder, sir. You're missing important stuff... like goals.

The one thing I can say the CBC have done exceedingly well however is that it's basically been wall-to-wall World Cup on the network. When CTV had the World Cup, it felt like matches were jockeying with all sorts of other shows for airtime. The CBC have showed most matches live on their main network. I think it was every single match, actually. And when matches were running simultaneously they were on their sister channel, CBC Bold. They've have also been great with repeating matches played in the day again in the evening as well as streaming matches live online and on-demand.

I DON'T EVEN KNOW: CRISTIANO GETS HIS NAILS DID

[Xtina lounging around a pool in NYC: Um, definitely worth the click to enlarge.]

His nails are painted. That's all I really need to say here, right? HIS NAILS ARE PAINTED.

Also, these rumours are pretty hilarious.

source -- Guest of a Guest via Fashion Indie

VIDEO: RENNES PLAYERS AT THE WORLD CUP

[Is 'Los wearing man-capris? I'm also having trouble understanding Gyan's pants.]

It never fails to impress me how unenthused Carlos sounds in literally every interview he does. Not quite bored, simply unfazed: 'Another day, another World Cup, bitches.'

via F.Y. Carlos Bocanegra

WHEREIN I AM BORED AND PARANOID IN BETWEEN MATCH DAYS

[Random Ferndando Muslera pic, just 'cause. Anyhow. Not everyone's dreading the end. This guy's pretty darn excited for it to be over already -- Dave Martin at the Ottawa Citizen: 'As far as I'm concerned, having our TV screens filled with faux football for the last four weeks has been no picnic ... this past month has been a giant annoyance.' It gets me that guys like Martin are paid to write this stuff. Truly, mindless.]

There are two very different emotions swishing around in my head right now. One, granted, is that of anticipation. Who isn't looking forward to the impending Spain/Germany semifinal clash where hopefully Spain will crash out and be generally hilarious*? On the other side of the coin, there's the knowledge that very soon World Cup 2010 will be over. Finito, history, done. And boy, is that itty bitty fact ominous. It f***ing looms. This World Cup will be in the books, the trophy hoisted, confetti strewn all about and then ...well, and then all we'll have is the vast expanse of boredom and an endless stream of unsubstantiated transfer rumours to comfort ourselves with. I'm not certain where your allegiances lie, but having to face the fact that Fabregas is probably going to skip off to Barcelona in a few weeks isn't exactly my idea of a pleasant time.

The seemingly endless days (hours! minutes! seconds!) in between the round of 16, the quarterfinals and so on are already enough for one woman to bear but the slightly paranoid feeling of 'MUST SOAK UP AS MUCH FOOTBALL AS YOU CAN NOWWWWW!!!' is pretty much unbearable. Someone make it stop.

*Please see: the Dame's irrational Spain hateration -- founded mostly on Sergio Ramos' annoying hair, winning Euro 08 with infamous jerk Aragones at the helm, and just being plain better than everyone else... stop being good, damnit.

TIET TMI du Jour: Speaking of 'making it stop' someone make Joachim Loew stop. This is the second time he's done this. And I know he's supposed to be the best dressed manager at this tournament but him and Hansi Flick are wearing matching sweaters so that theory has got to be deftly rattled to pieces at this point.

VIDEO: MARCEL DESAILLY'S REACTION TO GYAN'S PENALTY MISS

['HOWW? HOWWWW?' Oh, weren't we all wondering the same thing?]

We're simply not talking about France. No, seriously. We're not. At least not for a little while. Thuram coming out and suggesting that Evra be banned from playing for France ever again (get real, Tutu) was just about the last straw. However, what we can do is share a little giggle over Marcel Desailly's -- he of Ghanaian origin -- reaction to The Penalty Kick That Didn't Go In and Will Now Live Forever in the History of African Football (yes, that's its official name).

via 101 GG

I AM UP IN THIS BLOG FOR NO APPARENT REASON: JULIAN DE GUZMAN - YOU GO, GIRL!

[Unlike Gretchen Weiners' hair which is full of secrets, Julian's hair is full of magic.]

If you know anything about TIET, you know that our dedicated google-stalking obsession with on-pitch fighting knows no bounds. So even though I've been full-on pretending like the MLS doesn't exist for a little bit (gosh, world cup, you're such a like nuisance), my ears perked right back up again when I heard that there had been some lulzy fightsies that occured at this week's Dynamo/Toronto FC game. Dynamo's Joseph Ngwenya got into it with TFC defender Nana Attakora and it looked for a moment like they were playing one of those creepy choking games that excruciatingly bored children in the American midwest are into these days. Then Toronto's Julian de Guzman got involved with some macho 'hey man, that's my bro you're messing with!' lunging action at Ngwenya which was when fortunately/unfortunately the fight started to get broken up.

Oh, and there was also a shirt removal. 4:30. Dan Gargan. That's all I'm saying.

[Moronic fighting begins at 2:05. Other than that, this was the boringest match of life.]

TIET TMI du Jour: I doubt very much that this falls into the 'too much information' bracket for most but please see the following.

And now back to your regularly scheduled programming...

ANGRY KEEPERS: KINGSON = BEWILDERED

['I'm in the car, he on the ground, trying to figure out what the f**k just happened.']

This is the face of a keeper who has absolutely no idea what the hell just hit him. And he stayed frozen like that -- all gape-mouthed and blank-faced -- for a good 30 seconds. Spotted after Diego Forlan's absolute blinder of a free kick at the Uruguay/Ghana quarterfinal.

BRINGING THE LOLS: BABIES HAVING BABIES

[Fave Xtina pic of all time: Any chance I get to pull this one out, I will.]

According to Cristiano Ronaldo's twitter, he's just become a father:

"It is with great joy and emotion that I inform I have recently become father to a baby boy. As agreed with the baby's mother, who prefers to have her identity kept confidential, my son will be under my exclusive guardianship. No further information will be provided on this subject and I request everyone to fully respect my right to privacy (and that of the child) at least on issues as personal as these are."

I'm just holding out for an announcement saying that his account has been hacked or something because this simply can't be true. Exclusive guardianship? Girl...

ONE FOR THE VAULT: OBVIOUS CHEATING, COMPRESSION SHORTS CONTINUE TO PLAGUE THE WORLD CUP

[Oh, Kevin Prince. He of former German allegiance, ridiculous family fueds, and far too many tattoos. Someone give me a good reason to find him attractive, because I do.]

Even though FIFA are allegedly getting ready to throw the rule book at newly-minted Uruguayan hero Luis Suarez for momentarily forgetting he was playing football rather than volleyball (hey, it happens, right?), they've continued to remain decidedly silent on an issue I find to be much more pertinent: compression shorts.

And while Ghana's Asamoah Gyan is probably somewhere still ruing over his now infamous Penalty Kick That Didn't Go In And Will Now Live Forever In the History of African Football (yes, that is its official name now), Uruguayans will continue to party it up after their rather unsightly win. Well, at least until they get chucked in the semifinals by Holland. Meanwhile, please take note of how pretty Edinson Cavani's hair looks waving around amidst all the smiling faces:

TIET TMI du Jour: And just because I personally can't get enough of candid player celebration videos. Please see Ghana's from their quarterfinal romp over the Yanks. Ah, I will miss them.

I SEE YOU, HATER: THOMAS MULLER GETS SOME SWEET AND TASTY REVENGE

[...And then he has the nerve to get all annoyed when people disrespect his players.]

It wasn't so long ago that German midfielder Thomas Muller was being publicly dissed to his face by Argentinian cokehead/world famous cheat/coach Diego Maradona. And I bet being sarcastically called a 'ballboy' before Maradona stormed out of a presser they were both billed to be at had to sting a little bit. Fitting then that Muller should score the first goal -- one of the earliest goals ever scored at a world cup! get it, girl! -- in Germany's full-on thrashing of the Argentines. And once Maradona has stopped crying into his box of cigars, he'll probably feel pretty stupid for this.

via Off the Post

PARIS HILTON ANNOYS PEOPLE AT NETHERLANDS/BRAZIL, SMOKES WEED WHILST DOING SO

[Paris Hilton: A Brazil bandwagon jumper, I see.]

Queen of all attention whores, Paris Hilton, was at today's Netherlands/Brazil quarterfinal match. In addition to probably annoying those around her with stupid questions like 'Oh my gosh guys, is that dude's name actually Kaka? Like doo-doo or something?' she was detained by police after the match and made an appearance at a South African court. A local police officer: 'She was found in possession of some amount of dagga [marijuana]. We don't know how much. It's a high-profile person; only the top cops are dealing with it.'

Paris' people have told TMZ that she has been released and have swiftly shifted the blame onto someone else in her entourage who was the smoking the ganja. Apparently they've pled guilty and have paid a fine.

source: Paris Hilton held in South Africa after World Cup game - Paris Hilton detained in South Africa for alleged possession of marijuana - Paris Cleared In Marijuana Caper

BLATANT AND UNABASHED FANBOY OBJECTIFICATION: BRAZIL FANS

A welcome break from the gratuitous amount of Arjen Robben's face that is all up on my screen at the present. Regardless of how well he's played so far I will, for the life of me, never ever like that man. Why not close ups of van Persie, Mister Cameraperson?

[Update:] Although this... well, I just plain ol' don't even know what this is. I guess he was going for the Hellraiser look?

YANKS: LAZY NIKE ADVERT IS LAZY

[Just some casual and lazy sexism to round out your day.]

So, I guess that they couldn't find a single female who watched the Yanks do their thing in S.A. and, you know, appreciated it. Or maybe the problem was that they couldn't find a woman who watched soccer in America at all? Christ, is the situation that dire amongst the soccerballing masses? For reals, Nike?

TIET TMI du Jour: Also, at your next available moment, Nike -- you know, in between producing these sh*t ads -- please review tape from Ghana/USA where you'll find Jozy Altidore engaging in some desperate A+ flailing dive-age in the dying moments of the match. And the whole 'playing like an American' thing ain't cute either. Raging national-identity/deluson driven soccer ads are what drove England down the wretched path that they're on -- take a tip and don't make US soccer suffer the same fate.

via Amanda @ NeedsMoreKittens

CHANTELLE TAGOE IN SOUTH AFRICA: CHEETAH INDIFFERENT, BORED

[Chantelle sat beside a possibly drugged up cheetah in Bloemfontein.

Either that or this is the most unimpressed cheetah I've ever seen.]

It's hard to understand why anyone would willingly sit beside -- much less get all cozy with -- a creature that they know is both (a) carnivorous and (b) fast. Just doesn't seem like a good combo. Of course, that's what Emile Heskey's fiance, Chantelle Tagoe is doing right here. Personally, I'd at least have put on some sneakers to give myself the false security that I can make a quick get away should that cheetah get rowdy at any point.

spotted over at Pies

HERE'S ONE GOOD REASON WE SHOULD BE HAPPY THAT SLOVAKIA'S STILL IN THIS THING

[Although it sucks that NZ didn't make it through. They were just so precious.]

Two words: Jan. Durica.

Wait, do names qualify as words? Would a name be one word? Whatevs, the grammar nazi within you has got to be distracted. Congrats, Slovakia: hotness like that doesn't let you down.

WORLDS OF FOOTBALL AND, ER, FOOTBALL COLLIDE AS REGGIE BUSH AND JOZY SHARE SOME BRO-LOVING

[Recently Kardashianless! All hands on deck, girls.]

Oh, I do love a good excuse to post photos of Reggie Bush. I'm guessing this one's probably as good as it's going to get around here. Reggie twittered this shot amidst the post-Algeria part-ay-ing.

source: @reggie_bush via omg yanks

BRINGING THE LOLS: ITALY, YOU SO CRAZY

[See you later, Canna's thighs.]

And with that, Italy help the World Cup achieve a new point in history: this is the first tournament in which neither finalist of the previous one has made it out of the group stage. Who knew that when, full-time diving cheat and part-time Italy midfielder, Daniele De Rossi warned that Italy could go out like France, he was actually looking into his crystal ball rather than making a pathetic attempt to manage expectations? Somewhere Zidane is laughing his little head off.

VIDEO: JOHN TERRY IS A GREAT PERSON, FEARLESS, ETC.

Diving header. Meh. Why is it that people are always running to credit John Terry with all sorts of things? Passion, drive, and the ominous 'world class'? (I've heard that last one so much that I'm not sure what exactly it's supposed to mean. You play for Chelsea. Be world class. All the time. Simple as.)

From the Daily Star:

"The Chelsea defender said he was “born to lead”. And do you know what? He was spot on. Terry played this game like his life depended on it. He was everything his manager needed him to be – fearless, inspirational, simply brilliant."

The worst are those suggesting he be reinstated as captain. He was stripped of the captaincy, people. STRIPPED. And not even for being a crap defender or moronically speaking out against the manager at a time when the team needed unity more than anything else, like he conveniently did last week. No, Terry was dismissed for generally being a dirty scoundrel and a sh*t friend which has to say more about his character than any of the stereotypical english-hardman tripe the press are now selling.

How we're supposed to feel about John Terry is confusing. He's like that friend or acquaintance we've all got who's constantly making catty comments about your clothes or hair and then apologizes 'if your feelings were hurt'. She gives the most complete bail-out apologies that only leave you feeling unqualified in your anger. I get to be annoyed by you, damn it. Let me have that, at least. JT's got a knack for acting like a complete gentlemen, making the blinding off the line clearance (flashback to Trinidad and Tobago at the '06 World Cup) that sticks in your head for ages until, of course, he spits in someone's face during a Champions League final and hounds and screams at referees on the pitch. The moment you start liking him he does or says something so pompous and prick-like that you've got no choice but to go back to hating him again.

YANKS: LANDYCAKES, A REGULAR AMERICAN HERO

The Yank bandwagon has never looked so tempting. The whole thing almost makes me forget how annoying I actually find Landycakes. This is officially going down as a point in the 'good' column.

TIET TMI du Jour: In usual wandering-eye fashion, please play special attention to :25 of this clip where Jay DeMerit does a back-flip onto the man pile. Seriously? I'm amazed there aren't more injured that result from goal celebrations.

Also, this sign is kind of awesome. Predictable, but awesome.

ONE FOR THE VAULT: ARGENTINA VS GREECE, A GRIPPING MATCH INDEED

Well, geez man, it's not a freaking handle bar.

WHEREIN MY ATTEMPT TO AVOID WITNESSING THE FINAL BIT OF FRANCE RIDUCULOSITY ENDS IN COMPLETE AND ABJECT FAILURE

[Look at that little half-grin he's got on.

That, my friends, is a face begging to be punched.]

Due to life incessantly getting in the way of dedicating my entire existence to the World Cup (funny how that happens), I've not been able to watch the whole France/South Africa match yet. I wasn't so lucky, however, to fully escape the final act of the Shakespearean play France is putting on over in South Africa. As the highlights were being inflicted on a half-empty bar patio midway through my morning, I happened to be passing by. Wrong place, wrong time. The mental effort that was gathered to coax myself into avoiding having my day spoiled by sitting down to watch France's formality of a final group match today was expansive. I'd resolved to wait to watch the match when I got home tonight where I could sulk, groan and shout at my television undisturbed. Sometimes you just need those ninety minutes to yourself; to exorcise your angry-and-disappointed-supporter demons away from the view of, er, normal people.

But here's the main thing to understand about actively trying not to watch your side play at any point during the world cup: it's viscerally impossible. The patio's television screens seemed to pop up out of no where and they flickered brightly with the impending doom of it all. They were irresistible. While the commentators were setting up the first clip of the highlight reel, the loudest thought on loop over and over in my head was 'WALK AWAY! WALK AWAY NOW!' It was like a car accident and I was that annoying jerk that cranes her head out the window to slow down and scope out the full extent of the crash -- truly awful.

Now, if you'll excuse me I'm off for another evening of piecing together any semblance of motivation to truly give a sh*t about the rest of this tournament**. Yes, and to actually watch the rest of the South Africa game.

**Oh, I get to be a bit dramatic today okay? Relax Spain, I'll still be around to root on your eventual collapse. I'm devoted to the cause.

SARA CARBONERO STILL SHOWING UP FOR WORK, RUINING EVERYTHING

[Sara Carbonero may look like she's just doing her job and interviewing Spain's manager

after their match against Honduras, but really she's just distracting him from doing his damn job.]

There's Iker Casillas' girlfriend again, ruining everything. Stop letting her into the stadium, morons! Oh, Spain won? Two-nil, you say? Right then... haters, please proceed promptly to the left.

DROGBAGANDA: DIDIER ENDS AIDS ON HIS WAY TO SAVING CATS FROM TREES AND BECOMING PRESIDENT OF THE WORLD

[Didi's accent. Sigh. Hold me.]

Admit it, for a moment you totally thought that this video was awesome. But I can't be only one that thinks that this is taking the whole writing the future thing too far. And yet, even while while thinking that, I still can't get over the rather romantic thought of a footballer like Drogba ending AIDS in Africa.

via ONTD_FB

ONE FOR THE VAULT: THERE IS NO WAY THAT THIS DID NOT DISTRACT XTINA FOR AT LEAST A MOMENT

[Please note the girl in the background who looks completely unimpressed with these two. Girl, I feel you -- my Portu-zilian**

neighbours are effing obnoxious.]

And just to preempt the morons who are likely to pipe up with the expected 'SEE?! GIRLS WHO LIKE SOCCER ARE STUPID! SHE ONLY LIKES RONALDO BECAUSE HE'S HOT!!11'. Please shut up. Sure, the sign's a bit rude but that's all it is: a bit rude. Besides, no one ever put rules around how dudes can express their love for their favourite side. You know, except for that pesky 'don't physically harm one another' thing which folks are constantly having trouble getting right.

via Pies

**TIET TMI du jour: Portu-zilians are t

urncoat Portuguese fans who support Portugal in what appears to be an extremely die-hard fashion until the the moment they are inevitably knocked out. At this point, they'll very promptly jump onto the rather crowded Brazil bandwagon. A Toronto phenomenon.

FRANCE: WHAT THE... I DON'T EVEN...

[Evra spotted here being the world's sh**est

captain/getting a bit scrappy with the trainer.]

Lesson learned: In regards to France, never ever delude yourself into thinking that it can't get any worse. It can. They're boycotting practices (they refused to train on Sunday, but have now resumed today apparently), Evra missed a press conference today and sponsors don't even what their logos on France's training kit anymore. There's actually talk that the captaincy might have been yanked from Patrice Evra. All that's missing from this teen soap opera is Chuck Bass. I'm half-expecting him to make an appearance at this point: scotch in one hand, neck scarf at the ready.

I AM UP IN THIS BLOG FOR NO APPARENT REASON: DANISH DISTRACTION, NICKLAS BENDTNER

[For now though, I'll settle for some Bendtner prettiness. Small consolation. Also, well done to Nick for managing to find the target against Cameroon. You were like a floating idiot beanpole at Arsenal this season. Glad you could get it together for someone, girl.]

Perusing a vast array of articles telling me how ridiculous Anelka is and why I should feel sorry for Gourcuff, a man who is both very rich and very hot, is not a good way to end an evening. It's painful and insomnia inducing. In fact, as a result, I'm contemplating growing some emo bangs to fully express my pain... and inflict it on others. Seriously though, have you met anyone with emo bangs? It's slightly disconcerting to say the least. There was a barrista at a Starbucks I used to frequent who had these extremely long side swept ones with blonde bits in it. I used to literally hold my breath whenever he made my drinks because I was convinced there was going to be some accidental bang-dunking action occur. Skinny-Vanilla-Latte-a-la greasy-hair, if you will. He caught me peering over the little counter thing with this intensely petrified look on my face once. The smug bastard looked sort of pleased with himself. I bet goths and emo kids are France supporters.

[They all look just about ready for their emo-bangs too.

Les Bleus = Les Sulk. Let's not pin it all on Anelka.]

GERMANS ARE HILARIOUS: MESUT OZIL, RAP SUPERSTAR

[the fun starts around 2:30.]

I just felt a tidal wave of second hand embarrassment come over me. When it comes to annoying World Cup promotional tools, England keep it simple with lousy world cup anthems while Germany diversify with rapping, painting themselves to look like weird animals, and just generally being bizarre. It's like a grab bag of cringe-worthy delight! And, worst/best of all, it's all done so incredibly earnestly: 'Let's paint Mesut up like a cheetah, it'll be really, really inspiring!' How are we ever meant to take them seriously?

via Werder Bremen - Offside

GERMANS ARE HILARIOUS: ANGRY KEEPER EDITION

[Oh Jens, you gorgeous man, how we've missed your insanity.]

TIET mainstay and the initial reason for the birth of the great angry keeper thread, ex-Germany number 1, Jens Lehmann, is over in South Africa doing commentating work for German television. And so is his arch-nemesis Oliver Kahn. I don't speak German but this whole video looks like a trifecta of awkward: Lehmann and his ex-manager, Oliver having to talk about Jens without swearing, Oliver just in general. Love it.

BLATANT AND UNABASHED FANBOY OBJECTIFICATION: GIRL, THERE'S A REASON ALL THOSE DUDES IN 300 WERE HOT

[BRB, going to Greece. The middle one looks like Zlatan.]

But no one in 300 was actually Greek, right? You know, a quick IMDB search would probably clear the confusion right up but I make it a rather strict point around here to keep posts as, er, impromptu as possible. Lame lazy and crass jokes come best to me in the heat of the moment. These photos come to you from yesterday's Greece/Nigeria match.

source: sportsnet.ca, the guardian

DELUSION + GQ OUTTAKES

[Didier, spotted here doing his best Edward Cullen impression. Sexy/genuinely frightening. Speaking of Cote d'Ivoire, they've

easily got one of the best shirts at the

World Cup, no?

The tight fit = superb.

]

Still not quite ready to pick up the pieces from what happened yesterday at France v Mexico. Instead, I'm choosing to sit among the carnage in slight delusion -- going through the five phases and such. This is not to say that their tired, stroll-around-the-park, 2-goals-down-and-it's-hopeless, showing last night and hapless eventual loss to the Mexicans was a shock -- quite the opposite -- I'm just going to take the day to digest it. And by 'digest', I mean plot ways to to seriously harm Raymond Domenech.

Moving along to what will likely be the most joyful part of my morning, here are some outtakes from GQ's cover shoot. Didier can be quite dapper when he wants to be can't he?







GQ via ONTD_football.

WHEREIN IN A USELESS ATTEMPT TO REMIND MYSELF WHY I EVEN LIKE FRANCE, I AM REDUCED TO A GIRLY, NOSTALGIC MESS

[Ah, 1998. You've got to know it's gotten particularly bad when you find yourself

awake at 2am watching an endless stream of 98 World Cup clips. You know it's

gotten WORSE when you catch yourself looking fondly at Petit's ponytail, thinking

irrationally nostalgic tripe like 'they don't make pony-tailed footballers like that anymore...*sigh*']

France play their second group match this afternoon against Mexico and I'm dreading it. It feels like I've got an appointment with the dentist or something: I know I've got to go, and I will, but I don't particularly want to. Please just let them score a goal, or at the very least manage not rip each other to shreds, even as the likelihood of the latter happening is becoming more and more of a real possibility with each sh**y infighting rumour that pops up. 'I weel not pass to eem!'. Behave like grown men, please.

Figure that I, and those who find themselves in a similar predicament today, might need some reminding why we even like this side.

[Henry: It's hard isn't it, baby? I know everyone hates you right now -- with good reason, unfortunately. Handball mentions made by commentators can practically be reduced to a drinking game at this point... one that would get drinkers pretty damned sloshed, mind.]

[Zidane: A little angry with you. You made some unhelpful and truly cuntalicious comments about France's opening match. Yes, I know they were true but still, why now and why on national television? And you didn't even come to watch them play... you went to watch Algeria instead. I could headbutt you right now given the chance.]

[Vieira: Nothing but love. Come back.]

[Barthez: Oh, you baldy nutball. You did spoil us with your brand of

awesomely outlandish behaviour, didn't you?]

[Petit: The hair. The hair! For better or worse, the beginning of my

(not so)mini-obsession with footballers' hairstyles.]

LULZ, CASILLAS. SPAIN LOSE, NOW WHAT?

[WHAT ARE YOU DOINGGGGGG??!!!!! Is it bad that I'm laughing?

Yeah, it's bad that I'm laughing.]

Not feet first, Iker! Oh, calamity! You're never, NEVER, supposed to slide in feet first. Admittedly, Gelson's goal was the most unlikely of complete scrap-heaps. I think Pique actually got kicked in the head at some point during the tangle -- he emerged from the mess a bit bloodied. Complete credit goes to the Swiss for keeping such a well oiled defense, although I did feel the heart drop a bit for a moment when Senderos came off injured. So, now that Spain has dropped three points in their World Cup opener, to Switzerland no less, can we safely say that group H is shot to hell?

Here's an interesting nugget from the match: Iker's girlfriend, Sara Carbonero was there 'reporting' from the sidelines. Let's not get the blame game going too much though, eh?

TIET TMI du Jour: In other much more important news, it appears that my attempts to channel my disdain for the Spanish side (sophisticated reasons boiling down to: stop winning and being good! admittedly, the hate has decreased since Euro -- Torres' haircut has gained him some brownie points) into a psychokinetic energy so strong that it causes them to lose all their matches actually appears to be working. Huzzah!

VUVUZELAS, COMING SOON TO A CLUB NEAR YOU!

I'm not anti- fog horn vuvuzela as such, but the idea of having these trumpety things carry on past the world cup and possibly become a supporter mainstay frightens me slightly. Anything seems to go as far as supporters on the international level are concerned (please attempt to recall the last time you saw a man at your local club's ground painted head to toe in team colours, wearing a massive wig?) which is probably why I tend not to object too much to the heedless racket. It seems to fit in with the general zaniness of the international fan. But do I need the vuvuzela phzzzzzzeeeeeeeee-ing at an Arsenal match? No. Just no, okay?

From ESPNsoccernet:

"The Premier League could be set for an influx of vuvuzelas after the World Cup, as a Premier League spokesman said there was nothing in its rules that would stop supporters taking them into grounds."

Step 1: Find the rule book.
Step 2: Change it.

More:

"One bookmaker is already taking bets on which Premier League club would be the first to sell vuvuzelas in their team's colours. Vuvuzelas have already been on sale at several clubs, with Sheffield Wednesday being the first to sell them in club colours in their club shop last August after they appeared at the Confederations Cup."

source: Vuvuzelas may come to Premier League

THIS IS NOT CREEPY AT ALL: REFEREES IN, ER, CONVENIENT POSITIONS

[I mean, if you've got your camera set up by the

sidelines already... why not? No harm done, right?]

If one is truly committed to ogling in a football context, then one ought to take an equal opportunity approach. It really is the only way. There's no reason refs need to be left out of the perving. This borderline creepy photographic moment comes to us from yesterday's Denmark/Holland match. The obvious question to be asked here is of course what business a professional photographer has taking pictures of a ref's behind. 'Oops, my finger accidentally fell on this button as you were stretching with your ass facing me?' isn't exactly a great reason. Er, never mind, scratch that... it is a great reason. Give this person a medal!

TIET TMI du Jour: Speaking of hot referees. Two words: Roberto. Rosetti.

source: the Telegraph

YANKS: LOOK SLIGHTLY GREASY, MAY NEED HELP SHOWERING, I'M READY AND WILLING TO TAKE ON THIS INSANELY LABORIOUS TASK

[His Royal Hotness. No one really compares when it comes

to stupid-hot American footballing talent.]

This is not a dedicated US Soccer blog. Promise, pinky swear, etc. It's just been pretending to be one lately... a little. A wannabe, so to speak. Hell, if they're going to come out with stuff like this, can you fault a girl?

Anyhow, here's an interesting quote from Carlos Bocanegra's portion of this spread that Interview magazine did with the boys: "Stuart Holden is always talking. He doesn’t shut the hell up, ever. Always talking shit. Just talking to talk." Aw, Stu. Can't you just imagine him scurrying around the locker room talking really fast and just generally being so obnoxious that you'd want to punch him square in the face but couldn't because you knew it would feel strangely like child abuse because he looks like a freaking fourteen year old?

source: Interview Magazine via the zany yet fantasitcal ladies at ONTD_FB