SQUEEEEEE!

Fabi has returned to Serie A. To the Bianconeri.








http://www.goal.com/en/news/10/italy/2009/08/31/1472824/official-juventus-sign-lyon-left-back-fabio-grosso

Do you know what this means? DO YOU? This means that the Bianconeri defense consists of four out of five Azzurri defensive starters, plus a Czech International team starter, and the Bianconeri backup defense contains a backup Azzurri defender and an Azzurrini defensive starter.

To reward him for this excellent development, his rehab assignment is hereby over, and he can return to the seniors.







HappyHappyHappyHappy!

Luca Lunedi

Summer's almost over.


Can't you just feel the ocean breeze ruffling your hair? It has been said that Loooca smiles with his tongue in addition to thinking with his tongue.


Do you know what else is almost over? The summer transfer window. Today is the last day. Tomorrow the teams will be fixed. This is the last day for really bad things to happen, which we won't jinx by mentioning. This is the last day on which something really good might happen, which we won't jinx by mentioning. My fingers are crossed, and I'm checking the calcionews occasionally to see when stuff becomes official, but not in an obsessive way.

Back from the Dead

Bunny and The Man made it through the first half of yesterday's scorcher. By halftime, Bunny was dizzy and feeling the urge to vomit, and a half liter of water was selling for $5 (you aren't allowed to bring your own) and the idea of being trapped in the parking lot for two hours afterwards was too much for either of us to bear, so we bailed and watched the rest of the game at home on the toob. I only got a little sunburn, and my heat-induced headache and nausea were all better by about 8pm.


So what if not too many people left early? Dirtbunny is a delicate flower. Anyway, she got to see all of Cristiano Ronaldo's big fail in person. That was worth it. Cris is known for his amazing footwork. He likes to dance around and mesmerize his defenders. I call it the cha-cha. Thing is, everyone knows his schtick now, so it fools pretty much no one. It's cha-cha to no real purpose, which means it's just egomaniacal showing off. Dirtbunny does not approve of egomaniacal showing off on the pitch (and if you think I make exceptions, ask me about ADP's penalty kick in the Peace Cup final).

So I missed watching Raul play. 'Sall good. It's not like we didn't have our little--ahem--moment alone. And I got to see my booboo, Gonzo. Which reminds me. It's time for a call-up.


Here's a photo you see a lot during transfer season:


A recently-traded calciotorre, lying on the table with doodads stuck to him, giving a big cheesy grin (and often a gratuitous thumbs-up), getting his medical exam before the transfer is finalized so the gaining team "knows" it isn't getting a dud. This particular photo is of brand-new dirtbunny, Gonzalo Higuain, 22 year-old superstriker for Real Madrid, known as Gonzo, or as Dirtbunny's booboo. Gonzo is eligible for both the French and Argie national teams since he's an Argie national born in France. He hasn't been called up to Argentina yet but that's only because:

1. The Argie coach is Diego Maradona
2. who is insane
3. and corrupt
4. and who has lots of strikers to choose from
5. including, notably, his son-in-law
6. and Maradona is exactly the sort of guy who would call up his son-in-law just because
7. although the son-in-law is reportedly, allegedly cheating on Maradona's daughter
8. so who knows how long he'll remain on the team
9. because Maradona is exactly the sort of guy who would kick a guy off the team for insulting his daughter and
10. because it is well documented that Maradona knows drug lords and mobsters
11. and can have his son-in-law bumped off just by giving the signal on camera.
12. Will it be an ear-flick? A nose pick? An eyebrow waggle?
13. Shall we start a pool?

I love lists!

Anyhoo, Gonzo is waywayway better than the father of Maradona's grandson, so in a world that made sense, Gonzo would already have many caps for Argentina (and not just because I say so--this is not just fangirl bullshit), because wouldn't anyone play for Argentina instead of France if they had the option? Ooops. Maradona. Maybe not. 'S hard to say.


Hi there, Booboo.

Welcome aboard.

Luca Lunedi

The call-up sheet for the upcoming Azzurri friendly against Switzerland (boo, Lichsteiner!) is out. Idiot Il Mister Lippi continues to overlook ADP for no apparent reason except perhaps senility or a delusional sort of psychosis. (You will never convince me that ADP is too old and that Quag is better. Never.)



He has also booted Riccardo Montolivo, Rino, and DDR off the squad. (Yeah, his link is in Italian. Do you really want to tell me that you can't figure out what it says?) Oh, and Nicki. It's only a friendly. Nicki and Montolivo aren't really the best at what they do. Rino isn't at peak fitness following a longlonglong absence for injury last season. The DDR omission is inexplicable. Il Mister Lippi, that idiot, is known for punishing players with whom he has had little personal contretemps (for example, Marco Amelia, Antonio Cassano) and DDR is exactly the sort of personality who might get into a contretemps with, well, with just about anyone. The tifosi have all sorts of different opinions about who should be in Azzurri and who should not, but we're unanimous about DDR: he should be in. I assume that this will be rectified before the qualifiers resume.


Ahem. Another omission is our beautiful gormless boy, Loooca. All "meter ninety-six" and 200 pounds of him. That slump was going to catch up with him. Probably no one is surprised.

*sigh*

Maybe he'll get it together and come back. I hope so.

Football is suffering.

Hot

This is the icon that the National Weather Service has been using for the last few days to describe the forecast for today. It is undoubtedly going to be the hottest day of the year so far.

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Dirtbunny hates hot weather. And she is cursed. And doomed. So it is only fitting that today we are going to see the Galacticos play DC United at [product placement] Field where the Redskins play. And it is only fitting that game time is 3:00, because it's hard to imagine a hotter time of day than 3:00-5:00.

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Dirtbunny is afraid she is going to die in the heat. She'll either cook, dry up, sweat to death, or turn into one red blister and explode. However, Raul will be there. If Dirtbunny doesn't go, she will never find out whether it is possible to be pregnant with two imaginary love-childs from two different fathers at the same time conceived weeks apart. [Little Sleepy is doing well. Thanks for asking.] Science demands that I give it a try.

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[Product Placement] field is about, oh, 40-45 minutes from here (in Maryland, again). The game starts in about 4 hours. I'm not sure when we are leaving, but I expect it to take at least 90 minutes of travel time. Maybe more. Thus, the odds of The Man losing his shit in traffic--or worse: the parking lot--are pretty high, and so we have another potential death-of-Dirtbunny scenario to be concerned about. I think I'm going to have to take one of my special Bunny-Be-Calm pills. Wish me luck.

The last post of Zlatanmention

The word of the day is: NUTMEG



So. Let's take a trip down memory lane. It is January 13, 2009. Inter (booo) is playing Genoa in the Coppa Italia. It is a single elimination round. Coppa Italia is one of those tournaments that "no one cares about" but everyone wants to win if they happen to last that long. Many of the major teams tend to play their Primaveri (juniors) and their second-stringers to avoid injury to the superstars. That and the matches are squeezed in among league play matches, so they tend to occur midweek, and there is a fatigue issue.


So. Inter won the Scudetto last year and Genoa finished a surprising fifth place. Two good teams. Both teams want to win, but "don't care" if they lose. And why does Dirtbunny remember/care?
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Two words: ALESSIO SCARPI

Signor Scarpi was/is the second or third string goalkeeper for Genoa. He pretty much never plays. He's old (born in 1973) and way past his expiration date. Inter had major goal-scoring threats: former genius Hernan Crespo; crazy genius Adriano (who later flaked out and quit); and mega-genius Zlatan. Uh oh. Things look bad for Scarpi.


And yet, somehow, he had the match of his life. Inter pelted him with shot after shot. First was Crespo:

Now for Crespo not to score is not so much of a big deal anymore. He's formerly great. Maybe he'll be great again. Last year he was a frustrated shadow of his former amazing self. Anyway, when Crespo fails to score, it is usually because he misses. This time, it wasn't because of misses. His shots were on target. Scarpi was king of saves.




Second was Adriano:


Here we see Scarpi comforting Adriano Gigi-style after an Adriano fail. It was a thing to see. Adriano would make a strike and Scarpi would save it. At first, Adriano chuckled. Can't make them all. Then Adriano started making the "Are you Effing Serious?" face and the "You've Got to be Kidding Me" face and the "How Could that Not Go In?" face and the "Lord, Why Have Thou Forsaken Me?" face. I'm no Adriano fan, and even I was feeling sorry for him. Was it possible? Was Genoa going to win and knock Inter out of the tournament?



Finally, at minute 75, Adriano scored. But then Genoa equalized in minute 79. Tick tick tick. Minute 90 comes and goes and we are headed into extra time. Could Scarpi keep it up?

Alas, he could not. Cuchu Cambiasso scored on him at minute 100. Awww, too bad for Scarpi. What a shame. Well, maybe Genoa can equalize again. (Hey! "Equalize" is a Britishism, so maybe I should spell it "equalise.") Anyway.


And here comes the Zlatanmention.


How do you prevent an equaliser (hee hee)? You go up by two. Then the other team has to score three to win, which is harder than scoring two, and which packs a big psychological wallop. And so, minute 103, Zlatan scores:




It wasn't so much the fact of scoring but the manner of scoring. Maybe you can't tell from the above photo, but Zlatan nutmegged poor Scarpi. Oooh the shame!


Perhaps you need a hint. Here's another photo of the same goal:





Yeah. That's a nutmeg all right. Right through the wickets. Dang. Poor Scarpi. The game of his life. He deserved a little more dignity than that.



*sigh*


It was a sick, sad ending to the most memorable match of the year for me, and Alessio Scarpi is one of my heroes. You never know. You may think you're finished, but it's possible you have one more in you.


So long Zlatan. From now on, I do my mourning in private. And be sure to scrub those tiles until they gleam.

Almost done with the Big Swede

He's gone to Spain, so he's dead to me. I have a bit more mourning to do and then let's never speak of him again.

WOE: No more epic clashes of Gio versus The Zlatan!

WOEWOE: No more crazy prancing around demanding hero worship from the masses!

WOEWOEWOE: No more manhugs that result in crushing injuries to smaller teammates!

WAIL: Everyone else on the planet has at least a little body fat. Dirtbunny will never see thigh muscles like that again!

OK: This one's only here because I like how Marco is whining about some imagined crime against his person (O Arturo, Prince of Irony) and if I don't post it now, I'll have to crop the Big Swede out later.

WAILandWOE: Did I mention the bit about the prancing?

I'll miss his cute little Swedish babies.

I'll miss those occasional moments of horsing around when he made his teammates look like they might be real human people instead of Il Diavolo's representatives in Serie A.





I'll miss him being best friends with Marco, the only teammate even close to his size. He's got to be six inches taller than Pique, and a foot taller than anyone else at Barca.




Sigh. Football is suffering.







OK. Almost done with the ranting. I have one more thing to post about (eventually) that requires some Zlatanmentions, and then it will be over.







Ooooooh. Looks like Marco has found a replacement best friend!


We like Sammy. Now, let's see how Sammy does without Messi, Xavi, and Iniesta feeding him. That's right, Sammy. Deki Stankovic is your midfield now, and Chivu is your fullback instead of Dani Alves. Good luck winning the Scudetto.

Mercoledi Mishap

Kirby got his itchy feets medicine put between his toes this morning, and so he got a rawhide stick for being such a good boy. This means that Yarn Bandit got one too.
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Let me ask you: What happens when you mix rawhide sticks with open closet doors?

You get a violated sock yarn stash. The special sub-stash that I had segregated for my SIL was also violated and is no longer segregated. When it's time for her socks, I'm going to have to guess which yarn she picked.

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Also, the bag is still slimy with doggie spit. And some of the skeins are chewed.

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Who do you think is the culprit?

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Well, which beagle is the one who likes to hide things?

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And which beagle has a special attraction to yarn?.

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You may want to imagine that this photo shows his deep remorse for messing with Bunny's stuff. Don't kid yourself. He's not sorry. He's just wondering why Dirtbunny is glaring at him. I predict that he'll be sucking up for the rest of the day to get back in my good graces.

Luca Lunedi

Signor Marzo:

I have nothing mean to say. Nice smile. Nice hair. Enjoyable activity. Nice looking Lambrusco in a nice looking glass. Not dorky. I wouldn't get that shirt for The Man, but it is not offensive. La Dolce Vita indeed.

Bundesliga starts on Friday with Bayern versus Wolfsburg. Will Loooca start? (Will Loooca even play?) Stay tuned.

Disastro!

Act One

1. The stove is broken.


2. Repair guy comes on Tuesday.


3. Need foods we can eat cold, microwave, or George Foreman grill.


4. Mmmmmm. Italian deli products!


5. Off to the Glutton Place.


6. Fresh figs? Ooooh. Yes. Check


7. Prosciutto? Check


8. Ciabatta? Check


9. Balsamic vinegar? Check


10. Piave Vecchio?


11. Piave Vecchio?


12. Piave Vecchio?


13. [Bueller? Bueller?]


14. Scuse me cheese guy. Do you have any Piave Vecchio?


15. No ma'am, and we probably won't be ordering any more.


16. But....


17. What he actually said next was professional, courteous, and irrelevant. Translated into Bunny's simple but beautiful language, he said No one likes it but you, so we're not going to sell it any more.


18. But....


19. [wail of despair]


20. [raises fist to the sky and curses underdeveloped palates of other Glutton Place patrons]


21. [secret pride in Bunny's own sophistication compared to the great unwashed of McLean, Virginia]


22. [You might want to Google McLean, Virginia if you want to actually get that last joke]


23. Awww, Fuck it. They sell Piave at the Fresh Fields.

Act Two

Gigi: Did ya hear about Sleepy?

Capi: Yeah. Chelsea is bidding for him, but hasn't coughed up enough money for Berlusconi.

Gigi: What're we going to do if Chelsea buys him?

Capi: I don't know. Maybe we can get Il Mister Lippi to kick him off the Azzurri.

Gigi: If he left Italia to play for Bayern Munich, I would be sad, but I'd get over it. If he left Italia to play in France, I'd question his sanity, but I'd get over it. If he leaves Italia to go to Chelsea, I don't think I could ever forgive him.

Capi: The Blues of Satan. I can't think of anything worse.

Gigi: I only tolerate it from Petr because what else is he gonna do? Play in the Czech Republic?

Capi: Really.

Gigi: So what if AC Milan is on the skids? I stuck around when Juve got demoted to Serie B.

Capi: umm, erm

Gigi: Maybe we ought to change the subject.

Capi: Yes, let's. Meet me in the hotel after the game?

Gigi: I'll be the one with a hibiscus flower behind my ear.

Capi: [bacio, bacio]

Gigi: [bacio, bacio]

<>

Bianconeri versus Aston Villa in the Peace Cup final today at 3pm. Don't bother me. I'll be busy/drunk.