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.