Van's THIRTY DAYS (more or less) OF THE 2006 WORLD CUP

Week One has been moved HERE.  
Week Two has been moved HERE.
Week Three has been moved HERE.
Now we've finally, mercifully arrived at Week FOUR:

Day 22:  Friday, June 30

Weight this morning:  Unable to check.  

The first day of HeroesCon in Charlotte, North Carolina.  Rode up on Thursday evening with my pal, DefDave, (DefDave gets red text because he's a huge UGA fan) and we scouted out the best places to watch Argentina-Germany the next morning.  We were both going through World Cup Withdrawal by this point-- no matches since Tuesday, for cryin' out loud-- so we were ready for things to resume.

We settled on Champions SportsBar at the Marriott down the street from the "Courtyard by Marriott" we were staying in.   I guess the only difference between regular Marriott and Courtyard Marriott (aside from the alleged courtyard, but I never found one--I think that may qualify as "bait and switch," actually) is the lack of a sportsbar at the Courtyard version.  Weird. Friday morning came and I decked myself out in the Argentina jersey you already know about.  DefDave had on his Costa Rica jersey he actually acquired in San Jose.  Interesting story there.

Little did we know that, a scant few hours later, this humble sportsbar would resemble nothing so much as Versailles after the Franco-Prussian War...

We got to Champions, but it hadn't quite opened yet, so we hung around, waiting.  Suddenly a whole crowd of Germans come up, and they make some cracks about my jersey.  Yeah, yeah, whatever.  Then they actually get in front of us for the door.  So I said to them, smiling, "You know, when they open the door, you have to let us have the best seats because we were here first."  They all laughed and so did I.  Then I turned to DefDave, still laughing, and gave him a straight face and said, "I'm not kidding."

As it happened, we got perfectly fine seats (without an international incident) and settled in.

Oh, yeah-- food.  I had a gigantic grilled chicken sandwich and fries.  And before you decide that I've gone completely over to "healthier food" for the remainder of the Cup, know this:  DefDave and I sampled the food there the night before, and I ended up eating a huge plate of chicken nachos and drinking a Bass.   (And while there, that night, two girls walked up to our table.  I thought to myself, "Holy cow, the hookers are pretty brazen in Charlotte!"  But it turned out they were only handing out Miller Lite gear.  What a strange mix of emotions-- I'm not being approached by a hooker = Whew!  But now I have Miller Lite gear = Gaaah.)

Yes, it's settled: Bass is definitely the "Unofficial Beer of World Cup 2006!" And Miller Lite is the "Official Beer of Charlotte chicks who resemble hookers."

So, anyway,  the grilled chicken was as much a concession to the fact that I hadn't gotten very hungry since eating all that, as it was a health thing.  Ugh.

A big table next to us filled up with Argentina fans, and that was cool.  One had an Argentina jersey on, and he appreciated the extra support from a non-Argentine.  

The game was very exciting, with Argentina scoring early and leading most of the way, 1-0, but with the ref inexplicably siding with the Germans, much to the anger and dismay of our neighboring Argentines.  The Germans sat mostly in silence, until-- BANG!-- none other than Miroslav Klose (how good could Poland have been if it had kept its Polish players on its own team?!) knocked in the tying goal before the end of regulation.  The Germans went berserk.  They screamed and jumped and whistled and hollered and I think they even annexed the Holiday Inn next door.

The match went to a shootout, Germany won, we were deflated, and it was off to the convention.

I came back later, by myself, to witness my beloved Azzurri playing The Ukraine in the late match.  Of course, by the time I got there, it was already 1-0, Italy.  I ran an errand, came back, and Luca Toni was scoring to make it 3-0.  Okay, well, that was nice-- a quick "Forza Italia!  Forza Azzurri!"--  but not terribly exciting.  Thanks for playing, The Ukraine.  Love the article on the name.  Lovely parting gifts and all.  And now, Italia must face the Deutsch NationalManSchaft.  Eyarrgh.  

But we made the Semifinals, so that part's great, anyhow.  And this is the match Italy would have gotten in the Semis in 1994, but for Bulgaria upsetting Germany in the Quarterfinals.  (Shout out to Hristo Stoichkov, the star player who carried them through while resembling nothing so much as an aging, unshaven Robert DiNiro.)   Italy took care of Bulgaria that time, to make it to the final game.  Can they handle the Deutsch?!  Tune in on Tuesday, July 4, to find out!

Day 23:  Saturday, July 1
The Jules Rimet Trophy, more HeroesCon, and Skip's Breakfast of Champions

Weight this morning:  Still unable to check.  But after what I've eaten--and how much I've eaten--over the last 24 hours... It's probably better that I don't know.

Two huge matches today.  First, England plays Portugal, who is the only team remaining that hasn't lifted the Jules Rimet Trophy.

(Um, for those not in the know, that's the official "World Cup Cup"-- though it actually more closely resembles a giant golden ice cream cone than a cup.  I think they need something that looks more like hockey's Stanley Cup.  Now there's a giant "cup" trophy that kicks butt--it actually looks to me more like the nozzle from a Saturn V rocket than anything else.  That, my friends, is a trophy.)

The Jules Rimet Trophy, the Stanley Cup, and some Saturn V rocket nozzles.  You tell me which is more manly n' stuff-- and which ones are actually Cups, for crying out loud...

But, anyway.

The second match is Brazil against France.  A very intriguing matchup, that, and one that's been growing on me more as I contemplate it.   

France, of course, was the last team to beat Brazil in World Cup play, back in the 1998 championship game.  Maybe they have Brazil's number.  I've said all along that Brazil is "shaky."  France, in their crushing of Spain, much more closely resembled their powerhouse '98 squad than the bunch that showed up in 2002, failed to score a single goal, and went home after the first round.  They appear to have rediscovered their form and their formula.  It could happen.

And even though Ronaldo is scoring once more, the big star of the current Brazil squad, Ronaldinho, hasn't done a lot.  

But on to the first match-- England v. Portugal.  DefDave, a big England fan, hit Champions while I waited in line for two hours at the convention.  I made it there around halftime, and the game was scoreless.  

DefDave had ordered cheeseburgers and had received four huge ones, so he ate two and gave two to me.  I added a plate of bacon cheese fries to that.  Ah, yes, health food.  There went another week of my life, I'm sure.

Eventually the game went to penalty kicks, Portugal won, and DefDave was unhappy.  All his favorite teams are out.

That means Portugal would play the winner of the afternoon match.

DefDave returned to the convention, but I had grown so intrigued by what might happen with Brazil and France, I had to watch.  So I hoofed it back to the hotel and watched the whole thing, by myself, on the plasma TV in the lobby of the hotel-- long after we'd checked out, by the way.  Heh. France scored late, held on, and won, 1-0.   They didn't surrender!  They actually won!  Sacre Bleu! I knew it!  I totally knew it!!  Brazil had nothing working on offense.  They could not score.   And get this:  Brazil has now lost TWO World Cup matches since 1990.  TWO.  And BOTH OF THEM WERE TO FRANCE. Astounding. Les Bleus!

Blah, blah, blah.  All that France talk, to the left, is driving me nuts.  Here's the old Italy logo (which I like better than the new Italy logo, which looks sort of like Captain America's old, pointy shield, and which is really the even older Italy logo, back again).  Let's look at that while we hear about France's accomplishments, okay?  Forza Azzurri!

So our Semifinals are set:  Italy-Germany, then France-Portugal.  Three old faces and one new one.

And Italy attempts to win the Cup in Germany, just as Germany won the Cup at Italia '90.

Join me again after Independence Day and we'll talk about how the Azzurri did.  I plan on being at the Loafing Leprechaun for this one-- I need atmosphere, baby!  Yelling fans who are knowledgeable and into it. And--hey, it's the Semis-- I'll even take my Italy flag, this time. FORZA ITALIA!! Oh, and almost forgot-- the weight deal. Got home Saturday night and checked my weight. 172.  Wow.  What a trip.  I'll tell ya, nothing puts on the pounds like sportsbar food.

I have no idea.  I really, truly, have no idea.  But it came up when I Googled "Italy fans Cup."  And who am I to argue with mighty Google?  Exactly.  So enjoy that pizza, Skip.  And try not to take that Italian penalty kick against Australia  in extra time too hard, okay?

Fortunately, by the next morning it was back down to 166, which is about as good as I could hope for.  

(And don't ask me how I could lose six pounds overnight.  I don't know, and I'm afraid to find out.) 

Day 26:  Tuesday, July 4
  
Happy Birthday, USA!  If only you hadn't crashed out of the Cup so quickly.  You left me with no choice but to support my other favorite side, even on my own nation's birthday:

ITALIA!!!!!!

Step aside, Ballack!  Totti and the rest of the Azzurri have an appointment with France in Berlin on Sunday.

Make up your own jokes today.  I'm simply overjoyed that, after twelve years of disappointment, the Azzurri are back in the title game.  Last time ended in penalty kicks, with Roberto Baggio's potential tying kick sailing over the bar like a field goal.  This time?  We shall see on Sunday.

GOOOOOO- OOOOOOO- OOOOOOO- OOOL Grosso GOOOOOO- OOOOOOOL

Weight this morning:  166.  Back down to about where it's been, at best, the whole past month.  Maybe it was the pneumonia, maybe the drastic switching to grilled chicken at one point, but somehow--somehow!--I've made it through the World Cup (of eating bad food) and gained a net of only 3 pounds.  I'll take it.

I headed down to the Loafing Leprechaun for the Italy-Germany semifinal, anticipating at least a decent-sized crowd of mostly English fans, upon whom I hoped to heap misery as they had to watch my Italian side take down Germany (not that they like the Germans any more than Italy-- pretty much a lot less).  

But, alas, it was July 4, and the place was closed!

I give Loafing Leprechaun a yellow card for this.  It was Italy vs Germany in the Semifinals!  This is no time to be mucking around with holidays and stuff.  Be open!  Show the game!

They might get a chance for redemption during the finals on Sunday.  Maybe.  Perhaps.  The venue will probably be the Leprechaun, La Cazuela, or Taco Mac.  Someone's World Cup of Eating will end in glory, and the others will... oh, they won't even know it was going on.  Hey, I should make a trophy and give it to the place that wins.  Hmmm.

With the clock ticking down to the start of the match, I flew back up toward home, thinking of the best backup plan.  I was already running behind, due to the massive, three-car wreck blocking the main road down to the Leprechaun area.  So now I flew like the wind to my old standby:

 La Cazuela.

Excellent choice.  It will be very hard for anywhere else to top La Cazuela now.  They have surely secured their first Van's World Cup of Eating trophy.   My new friends there welcomed me (in my Italy jersey) with open arms and we all rooted for the Azzurri.  (The guy next to me had $250 bucks riding on them!)   I didn't have high hopes, because the Germans are just so tough, mentally and physically, and playing at home...

This is Pirlo, who sent the great pass to Grosso for the first goal-- but it might well have been a photo of me in La Cazuela, the moment after we were certain that Grosso had indeed found the back of the net.  Heck, you should have seen the Mexican guy next to me-- he just won $250!!

Of course you know the outcome, after over two hours of agonizing, scoreless, SEC Defenses-class struggle.

What did I ingest and imbibe?  Three Dos Equis Lagers (not the Unofficial Beer of the World Cup, but a strong contender for runner-up), a basket of chips and salsa, and a plate comprised of a chicken enchilada, burrito, and taco.  All excellent.

Afterward, I walked out of La Cazuela in a delirium of joy, not even feeling the downpour that drenched me on the way to the car.  

Now to find out who the Azzurri will face on Sunday.  I predict France, who has truly returned to 1998 form (unfortunately).  But that's tomorrow...

Day 27:  Wednesday, July 5

Weight this morning:  166.5.  Ehh.  I can take a half-pound.  Still good.

It was back to work teaching this morning, but the game started at 3 pm, so after letting out my middle class and stopping by the office (where I made plans to meet two other faculty members to watch the game), I headed over to Diggers.

Hadn't done Diggers but once in the entire tourney, but with a 5 pm class (starting just as the game ended, and that's assuming the game didn't go to OT), I had to be close by.

Dave and Bruce showed up and we had a great time watching the game (and they had a time watching me devour an entire plate of chicken/chili nachos and down a Bass*). We were mostly rooting for Portugal.  In my case, it was because  1) that meant I was rooting against France, which, as I have stated previously, is always fun, and  2) because I suspected Portugal would be a slightly easier foe for Italy on Sunday.  Plus Portugal's never won it, so if anyone other than Italy won, I would want it to be them.

*Still the Unofficial Beer of World Cup 2006!

But of course Les Bleus carried the day.  Once again they wheeled Zinedine Zedane out onto the field with his oxygen tanks and his walker, and he scored (on a PK).  Jeez.

A quick word for Univision:  When I'm watching at La Cazuela, they always have the TV on Univision.  And so, despite the fact that I can't understand much of what's being said, I have to admit that they do a much better job of, well, keeping the extraneous crap off the screen.

Seeing ESPN's broadcast today, I marvelled at the ridiculous geography and history lessons they feel compelled to give.  

*Yes, I do know Italy wore that same look against Germany, but they won, so I don't care.  But I do prefer the look they wore against the Ukraine-- their classic white shorts with the blue tops.  Let's stick with that, guys.

And while you're at it, how about some emotion?  The US announcers might as well be calling a dog show as the World freakin' Cup Semifinals.  The Univision guys scream and holler and go berserk if the ball so much as flies twenty yards over the crossbar...

Plus their ads always feature really nice looking women.  

Anyway, back to business:

The second half grew dull as it became obvious the Black Ship was not going to sail again.  I actually fell asleep, there at the table (though I imagine the beer and nachos had a lot to do with that, too).

And then it was off to teach class.  Great...

So-- Sunday:  Italy v. France, from Berlin.  Should be awesome.  Join me here afterwards, when we shall wrap this great big mess up, once and for all.  Until then:

FORZA AZZURRI!!!

Day 31:  Sunday, July 9: