Alright, so the blogposts have been pretty substantive as-of-late. Facts. Cites. Quotes. Conclusions. Lots of meatloaf, very little desert. I took things a bit slow, a bit grounded, but now its time to get metaphysical in a Usain Bolt existentialist dash through soccer topics of no relevance. Think Perro Andaluz if the perro was served caliente on a stick outside a discotheque at 4 in the morning. But I digress.

The offside reports that Adidas and Pumas have shaken hands. Two rival companies have come together and we the consumer smile and applaud because of the acrimonius familial history that split the two entities. They are finally back together and can get back to fixing prices, twisting the arms of producers and suppliers, and merging their wankerous advertising campaigns. Nike is a shining hero for the first time in its corporate life and I am at a loss for words. Time for some Spanish – ” a huevo, good sir, a huevo.”

As per the infallible youtube, a drunk Russian fan scores on a penalty kick. The line between fan, spectator, athlete, and event becomes blurred. Questions abound. Why was he not wearing a Barcelona jersey? Did David Terezeguet take notes on the technique? Would this drunken Russian hold his own against part-time security guard Craig Bellamy?

Bleacherreport reminds us yet again that the EPL is up to its elbows in debt. I try to gloss over the new-rich-naivete which saturates the debate “Wait you mean businesses take out loans and dont pay them back the very next day!” But I get distracted. Do they really called themselves “Lord”? Is Lord Triesman higher on the pecking order than Grand Moff Tarkin? If Palpatine and Vader die, does he get the keys to the Death Star?

RTE reported one week ago that Eduardo´s ban was appealed and overturned. I peruse the article for names of judges and appellate chambers. Ahem- “The UEFA Control & Disciplinary Body.” I am confused. Is this a posthumous publication of Michel Foucault or a brand new afters hours bar recently opened in the Bay Area? Or Both? But surely no place to comfortably lodge your appeal. I guess that´s the point.

The Guardian reports that last weekend a football team beat another football team. The winning side´s fans rejoiced, while the losing side´s fans demanded the coach be fired. But of course I am more interested in the  Guardian Soulmates dating site at the bottom right hand corner. Has social media gone too far? What if my fiancee and I had met that way? “From the first email, we had so much in common, like, we both, like, read the Guardian.” Sorry to sound cynical, but I don´t believe in love at first site. You deserved that.

Marca, the official lapdog of Real Madrid, reports that Florentino Perez is a socialist-capitalist-condescending businessman. He started going to Madrid games at age 4 and bought worldclass players in order to bring hope and a brief moment of joy to poor fans. I can just hear his speech to the Board before Kaka was signed – “But think of me when I was 4 years old and my taksmaster father instilled in me a distorted set of values due to my peculiar aristocratic place in society!” Pause. “And be sure to leave a space for extra zeroes at the end of the check.”

But I digress

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