Monthly Archives: June 2008

The Last Soccer Related Euro 2008 Post

…because I’m leaving the window open for some EuroGirls posts.


BV put me on the spot for a more in depth Euro final post earlier, but really, what can one say?  The forearm tat loving Spanish were simply better than the Germans, themselves afficianados of bad dye-jobs.  To quote the mighty Cardillo over at Deadspin:

When a team plays six games and wins six games, outscoring them 12-3 and playing an attractive brand of soccer, there’s not a whole lot to breakdown. Again, so many times moments of lunacy, or mistakes, or referees whistles determine big matches in world soccer. If one side is simply better – Germany couldn’t even get the ball in the dying minutes thanks to the pressure of Xavi, Senna, Carzola, Güiza, etc. in their own half – it’s almost as much call for celebration.

Spain absolutely fucking dominated.  The game could have just as easily been 3-0.  Germany played with the same flaws that they had been all tournament (ie: an overreliance on set pieces, a lack of form at the front, and an uncanny resemblence to the Dutch while playing Russia in their lack of desire to move away from the ball/generally maintain possession), though the Spain were the first second team to convert those flaws into a German loss.


The only difficult question surrounding the match was who the man of the match for Spain was.  Torres and Sergio Ramos seemed the early clear cut choices for me, but as the game went on it became clear that Marcos Senna insisted on giving Germany fits throughout the second half.  He was a major reason the Germans didn’t mount more of a comeback effort than they did.  Really, you could have any of the three for MOTM and not be wrong.  I think we all know who Spain’s Queen Sofia would vote for though….

Oh yeah, another thing?  5 of Spain’s 10 starters in the field are under 25 years old.  There were 12 total <25 players on the squad this summer.  I guess what I’m saying is keep your eyes open for a Spain/Argentina final in South Africa as Spain due to get better for the next couple years.

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Red Hips of Spain

I promised at least 1 hot girl this weekend and figured might as well throw something up for the ladies too. Not to put him on the spot here, but I imagine Carlo Rossi will have an informed Euro recap that will arrive shortly. From what I could tell, Fernando Torres was dominant and the Germans could have used Ballack at 100%. On the front, not as strong of showing from the Spanish women, although you certianly can’t argue with the above pictured mamacita, who is muy caliente fo sho. I am hoping we can get a getboofed roundtable discussion up sometime this week to debate and eventually crown a winner of the euro08girls title.

Stray observation from the match. If (when) they ever make a Jens Lehmann biopic, there is no way he isn’t played by John C. Reilly. “This fall, John C. Reilly is The Curly Haired Keep, rated PG-13.”

The “I Just Couldn’t Help Myself” Will Leitch Goodbye

If there is anything this old internet is more chock full of than scandalous Miley Cyrus photos, it would currently be tributes and farewells to now former Deadspin editor William Leitch. If there is one thing you all should know about your pal BV, it is that I am never afraid to hitch a ride on the trend train, almost always at least 2 days too late.

Ultimately, I want to pay my respects to Mr. Leitch here because I don’t think there is a getboofed without him. My first experience with a sports blog, or any blog for that matter, was when Carlo had me check out Deadspin about 2 years ago. It has been my first stop on the web since. Deadspin than led me on over to FJM, and that alone makes me in debt to Will.

It was also borrowing Carlo’s copy of Life as a Loser that got me excited and motivated enough to actually want to get this site rolling. Reading young Leitch’s memoirs, his embarassments and failures were all too reminiscent of my own embarrassments and failures. It was only natural to try completely bite his style therefore, in hopes of someday possibly being able to at least marginally emulate his successes too.

What Will and crew have accomplished with Deadspin, putting the sports back in the hands of Joe A. Guy and making it the escape it was meant to be, I believe is the Magna Carta of sports journalism. And to that, I salute you good sir. You keep happy dancing, guy, happy dancing all the way to the top.

I would like to apologize for the literary fellating that just went down.

Minnesota’s Next Top White Guy: Moms Choose ’08

When Kevin McHale moved Wally Szczerbiak to Boston for Ricky Davis and Mark Blount in 2006 he broke the hearts of all of our moms. For the first time since 1994, when the Wolves added Tom Gugliotta, Minnesota moms didn’t have someone out there to root for. Sure, a lot of moms did and still do love Kevin Garnett. The man is hard not to love. Yet Minnesota moms had grown accustom to having a semi-goofy white guy with nice hair and a barbed wire tattoo to cheer for. Apparently this is one mistake that McHale had vowed to rectify.

About the time that I had decided I may actually watch a few more games this year, enticed by the offensive possibilities of a Telfair-Mayo-Jefferson lineup, McHale moved Mayo to Memphis for two prime contenders for the Mom’s Choice Award, Kev Love and Mike Miller.

Quick draft rant. Many said that Minnesota was a bad fit for Mayo, but when you are as a bad as the Timberwolves don’t you need to hold onto the guy with assloads of upside? Also, Mario Chalmers slides to you in the 2nd, so you pick him and trade him for future 2nd round picks? Plus you pass on DeAndre Jordan? You could have walked away from this draft with Jordan, Chalmers and Mayo. How does the guy who traded Brandon Roy for Randy Foye and Sam Cassell and a 1st round pick for Marko Jaric get to keep making decisions about who plays for a basketball team?

But enough about the quality of basketball that will be played in Target Center next fall, because we all already know we won’t be watching, let’s get back to the Mom’s Choice. Love is the definite early front runner to be mothers’ favorite. He is a big old beefcake and is also personable. He works hard and hustles, which is always something that moms appreciate around these parts. He can also hit trick shots with ease and humility, which moms probably also find sexy.

(Notice a mom is featured prominently appreciating Mr Love)

Its good to know if the NBA thing doesn’t work out for him he can be a Globetrotter or a guy who goes around to high schools winning pizzas and gift certificates at half time. Kev doesn’t have the looks of a Wally, or the hair gel, which leaves the door open for Miller. Miller looks like the guy who tried to feel up your girl at the American Legion and then bummed your last cigarette, but the dude can shoot the lights out. He will almost certainly be the Wolves second scoring option next season and, as much as moms will try to root for the friendly young cake of beef, girls and even moms love results. He is also a philanthropist who used to practice in the Corn Palace, and what mom doesn’t appreciate the small town kid who made it big but never forgot his roots? Miller also possesses tattoos like the previous title holders, but ultimately they may just add to his all-around greasiness that will move moms into the Love camp.

In other Kevin McHale news, I heard last night that a local medical double threat Dr. Michael “Hermatology/Oncology” McHale is actually the brother of our esteemed GM. Word on the street is (***Libel Alert***) Dr. McHale is frequently close to making a great diagnosis, but changes his minds and ends up making a completely shitty one instead.

(I want everyone to make sure they check out the kid in the far right of that picture who has been tied down to his rather large mother’s side. No words could possibly express the despair he is feeling there as appropriately as the look on his face.)

Hello Old Friends

Oh, hello there. Haven’t seen you for a while. How have you been? I mean, really, sincerely, honestly, how have you been? I have something for you. It takes a while to get to the money shot but I think you will enjoy it. This clip takes me back to a simpler time. Where have those days gone? I don’t want to blame it all on 9/11, but that certainly didn’t help.

Real posts hopefully coming soon. Thanks to Euro I haven’t been able to stop playing Fifa lately. The Clive Tyldesley accented call of “Schweinsteiger” is all I hear in silence.

Bert Blyleven hearts farting and shitting.

I’m sure most of you are familiar with Bert Blyleven’s love of farting.  By extension, it should be no surprise that Blyleven enjoys the delightful act of shitting, as the kids are calling it.

But photographing his own shit?  This is a whole new level of awesome.

Mike watched as Bert ran around to the players to reveal the photo and saw the teammates howl with humor and disgust. Finally, after the Polaroid made its rounds with the teammates, Mike was able to view it… Pictured in the photo: a turd. A giant turd, in fact, made by one Bert Blyleven.

You should really read the entire article, it’s a gem.  And for the love of God, please, please get this man into the hall of fame.

Terribly Unreliable EURO2008 Update, v1

David Villa doing what he does

Some things I was right about in my terribly inadequate Euro “preview”:

  • Six of the eight quarterfinalists.
  • The Dutch winning their group — and their generally having a team that had the ability to do some damage.

Some things I was wrong about:

  • Fabregas making this his tournament, since his manager refuses to start him. (Thought he did score the clinching goal in the Spain/Italy shootout.)
  • Worrying about the French’s younger generation.  Manager Raymond Domenech is terrible.  I mean, I’m no tactician, but his starting selections across the board seemed akin to Van Basten benching the likes of Sneijder, VanderVaart, and Robben in favor of Davids, Cocu, and Kluivert.  For those of you who don’t know who the hell I’m talking about, the French basically trotted out the team that won the 2000 European championship.  Eight soccer years is a really, really long time.
  • Christiano Ronaldo doing anything of note.  Well, I suppose he did have one of the harsher injuries of the tournament.  Yep.  Here it is.  I mean, how can you blame him for being so ineffective against Germany with that terrible injury to deal with?

Anyway, we’re down to four teams.  The Spain/Russia matchup should be a watchable, fast-paced affair.  Russia will likely try to defensively play Spain similar to the Italians, but the Russians will be sure to throw more men forward.  Also, the Russian’s lack of size should open things up some more for Spain’s offense.  If Aragones starts Cesc Fabregas on the bench again I am going to shit.

Turkey’s comebacks and last minute insanity have been one of the more improbable displays in all of sport in recent memory, but they can’t possibly compete with Germany as the Turks are going to missing a shit ton of players due to injury/suspension (six regulars, to be exact), can they?  I mean, Turkey might be forced to play their backup to the backup goalie in the field.

Anyway, my prediction is worth fuck all but if you’re wondering (you aren’t) I’m taking Germany over Russia in the final.  I’m typically hesitant to jump on bandwagons of teams like Russia at this point, but it’s hard for me to imagine Spain beating them for the second time in a couple weeks.  However, I would like to see Spain win it, though.  Fernando Torres is just so pretty.  Wait, what?

So yeah.  Just a few more matches until the Andrei Arshavin bidding war can begin.  Don’t worry, if Arshavin can’t be had by your team, Schweinsteiger, Podolski, and David Villa look to be on the move as well.

Anyway, most of the reason why I made another soccer post is so that I can post a picture of this unnamed Italian fan.  As much as I hate the Italian soccer team, wow, just, ok, I’m going now.

oh my god oh my god who are you?