Hark the Herald Angels Sing - Yet Another Blog Post-ing.
Gardening in San Diego is a difficult task, really. It involves watering your perennials (and/or annuals), and watching them grow.
Another, more effective gardening technique is to sit back, drink a Michelob, and watch another perform the task.
"But Dave," You query, "Outdoorsman though you be, truly and honestly tell us, your humble readership, what was it that kept you away from the blog for so long - almost eight, nine days now?"
Well, aren't we forward, dear Reader? You want my First Born too? Nice try - I pasted a spritzer of Goat's Blood 'ponst the door to prevent such an unscrupulous endeavor. M'woman done got turned into a pillar of salt, but hey, such is a life replete with biblical strife. Actually, I made that last part up - I don't own a goat. Not a traditional one, anyway.
No, attentive audience, I was busy with issues of a.. sporting nature.
You see, on Thursday night, I noticed there was a problem with the Cable Box, and thusly, no cable for the weekend, unless I wanted to Take Action and Resolve the issue, by doing something like calling the cable company, or bringing the box in for exchange. Not my style. My response was simple...
Playstation 2 until I broke the "joystick" controller (note the left circular control, pointing upward, without any intervention, totally fucked up)..
And Guiding the Pohang Steelers through Korea's famed "K-League."
Starting the season Friday night, I didn't know what to expect from my new team. With anticipation I pondered my offer. "The Board expects you to win the league," they flatly stated. Yeah, I know, you fat cat bastards, sitting behind the scenes, pulling strings, setting us all up like ducks in a row, ready to place blame and never accept the burden of responsibility. I've been around the block before; When, in FIFA 2004, I took lowly Manchester City through five seasons of drama from relegation, to promotion, to League championship and then the double of League and UEFA Cup Glory, I knew the end could come at any moment- a manager's lifeline is a taut and tenuous cord, as of a time-ravaged marrionette puppet, one rotting string from capitulation.
As always, those who placed their faith in me were richly rewarded, as the following screenshot indicates.
Pohang Steelers - 2006 League Champions. Now, as you can tell from the final standings page listed above, Pohang was a force to reckon with. Even with my limited knowledge of the Korean game, I dug deep to connect with my players, and through my coaching attempted to reach our inner commonalities; namely that, race, color, and creed aside, we are all spiritual beings, inhabiting bodies on this great spaceship earth, and that soccer is an altogether groovy beast. Gin soaked , yet of profoundly moral fiber, I loudly recited segmented passages of Dianetics, and using the techniques I learned Auditing up the Bridge, silently transmitted these strategies to their willing ears and minds.
It was not an easy task, and I'll admit there were certain games I had to play numerous times to win. One team, Ulsan Horang, required over 12 games to defeat. During these many defeats (and system resets), their striker, Choi, must have scored fifteen goals against me. My vehemence grew such that a visiting friend, on his way back home following his San Diego weekend at my humble home, sent the following text message : Fuck Choi. Drawing inspiration from such passionate supporters, the boys went out and finally "broke their duck," defeating Ulsan on a Set Piece goal, in STOPPAGE TIME, kicked across the line by a man on the ground. It was, as they say, "A moment of pure class." The picture above depicts two Ulsan players, dejected, after losing the game. To them, I can only say, Eat Shit You Ulsan Horang bitches!
Inevitably, they were also our opponent in the league cup final, a knockout tournament featuring the top four teams in the league. And what happened, you ask?
That's right, bitches. League Cup Champs. An incredible point blank strike from the Brazilian Wellington, and the cup was ours. If you read closely, you'll see the name of our esteemed coach, er, myself, one Corky Hassan, espousing the gospel of goodwill.
Team M.V.P., influential attacking midfielder Tavarez trots off the field for the last time, applauding the fans for their wonderful support.
Friday night to Tuesday afternoon - over forty games of FIFA 2006. One league championship. One league cup. Not bad for a manager named Corky, who rejected offers from more "noted" European behemoths of club Football, to follow his heart, and coach in the Korean League. Meeting players such as Moon, the corn-rowed Korean assassin; my goalie and high-scoring striker, who both had the last name "Lee," to my defender and winger both named "Kim," to Oh, Po, Wellington, Tavarez, and finally transfer deadline steal "Papa" Diop- Sweeper, holding midfielder, and scourge of opposing offenses, I thee thank.
Now that I got that out of my system, I'm really gonna get shit done. Tell you what. Since I am 29 and all.