Surfer's Guide To The World Cup Part 2
Italy, hard to kill but dead. Uruguay, the team with lying shirts. Australia, sporting nomenclature's lowest ebb and of course, Chile. Have they spunked their wad too early????????
Missed England, Scotland(!), USA, Brazil, Spain, Argentina, France? They're all in Part 1!
Italy aren't actually very good, but that's never held them back in the past. This time though, they're out, losing a must-win to a Uruguay (aka the new, old Argentina) side of nasty little poison dwarves and one in particular (we'll come to them). But before you feel like heckling the Italians, remind yourselves how many World Cups they've won. Four. The same number as Mark Richards. That's more than England, France and Spain put together my friends.
Their spirit surfer is Keiren Perrow. Kinda old and boring, hard to kill, although maybe that's finally it now.
Uruguay have got two good players, making them 1 good player different from Argentina in Mexico 86. One of them (Cavani) looks like one of the baddies from Crocodile Dundee. The other one is considered a vile little creature by every right-minded human, except the 3 million inhabitants of Uruguay and the red half of Liverpool, neither of whom are famed as moral arbiters. You know how when you busted for drug dealing, the law can seize the assets you got from illegal gains? Maybe when Suarez gets his ban FIFA can seize the goals he scored at this World Cup, and England will be through? Anyone? Anyone?
Uruguay also have the audacity to put four stars on their shirts, even though they've won two World Cups. They say the other two are for pre-world cup Olympic wins. This is what we're dealing with here, even their shirts are liars.
Uruguay's evil spirit is Luis Suarez.
The Socceroos have the worst name of any team of any sport in the world.
Worse than Perth Fire, Adelaide Bumblebees or whatever the fuck they're called, and any of their ridiculous Aussie rules team names. Combining the heinous American word 'soccer' and 'kangaroo'... Seriously Australia? Come on, you're better than that. No wait hang on, actually, no you're not. You call 'football' a game that involves holding an egg in your hands. Handegg.
Anyway, Australia scored the best goal of the world cup, played well if a little earnestly, gave good accounts of themselves, ran their cute little yellow socks off and still lost 3 games and went home pointless. Bless.
Australia's spirit surfer is the late Viscount Deerhurst, obviously. That's obvious.
Chile are fucken fired up! Have you seen em running about, pressing, putting pressure on the ball, turning it over in the opposition half? Have you? Chile, who are you trying to impress? If it's everyone in the world, it's working! Surely they can't keep this up, can they? Surely they'll run out of steam...
Chile perhaps remind me of Joanne Stedman at the 1989 Edgbarrow sportsday, if you'll allow me. Our form, 1T, won the boys' 100, 200, got 2nd in the 400 and 800 and won the 1500 (me) and the 4 x 100m (Evans, Hewitt, Trigg, Bacon). All the 1T girls needed to do was not come last in every track event, and we'd win sportsday. One single, solitary not last place finish would see us triumph. Their last event was the 800 and Joanne Stedman carried our hopes and dreams. I'd say her split lap for the first 400 was only just outside of Roger Black's then European record... which is not bad for an 11-year-old girl. She went flying out of the blocks, and had about a 200m lead on the rest of the field at the bell. She rounded the first bend even faster, then, at the start of the back straight, started to wobble. Stumble, stutter, stumble, stutter...
The ambulance men said she'd be OK after a bit of rest and plenty of water to drink, which, if I honest, was a further disappointment to me. I'd hoped for worse.
Chile's spirit surfer is Todd Holland. Started the '92 season blazing, then faded to a mere few atoms more than nothing, like a skid mark on white boxers on a short cycle at 40 degrees.
I got Japan in the company sweepstakes. Here's what happened: The sweep was announced via email at our London office. Being in France, I asked our non-football following Art Director to pay my five pounds, draw my team and that I'd paypal him. Here's what he did, in cold blood: He drew two teams out. Gave me Japan, AND KEPT GERMANY FOR HIM. HE DOESNT EVEN FUCKING LIKE FUCKING FOOTBALL.
I'm too angry to even pick Japan a spirit surfer.