[Spartak] Friendly at Donoghmore

At the risk of irritating all my readers (yes, all four of you) who do not like football, I have decided to briefly summarise all the games I play this season, so that I will have a record for posterity.

Our first match of the season was last night. We lost 3-0. We were poor, and I did not have a great game. I was not bad, but I feel like I did not perform as well as I should be. I have set my self a high performance standard for this coming season.

We lined out in a 4-4-2: Foley, D. O'Connell, D. Keane, D. Mohan, R. Benson, W. O'Connell, M. Cooney, S. Mongey, C. Reid, D. MacAuley, A. Dawson. Subs: K. O'Toole, A. Doran, M. Greene, G. Byrne.

A lot of us had not really played together, and we were working in a new system. It is still no excuse really. Donoghmore are not a great side and are playing to a relatively low standard, though they have a few decent players.

I was frustrated by a lot of things we did. Despite some of us trying to keep it on the deck, the ball went up in the air a lot and our forward line lacked any real penetration. The two O'Connell's had fine games again, with Will getting behind their defense on a few occassions.

Our new manager wants us to play it out from the back more, and we are not used to it. We were caught a few times by this, and it cost us a couple of goals. The fact that we were 3-0 down by halftime speaks volumes for our performance in the first half.

As for my game, I was not happy. My touch was off and the ball caught beneath me too much. I need to get it away from me with a good first touch, and spread the play. I did not do that. Defensively, I felt I did okay, tracking my men and winning a lot in the air.

As a whole though, our team lacks bite. I seemed to be the only person getting physical with the opposition, and imposing myself on them. We need much more bite, especially in the middle.

To make matters worse, we had a number of first teamers due to a large number of cry-offs the day of the game. None of them were strongly established first teamers, but it is still a cause for concern.

I also feel like we need a much stronger presence up front. Frank McNamee is still a few months off playing and we do not have another player like him. Our forwards are dispossessed too easily. Colm Delaney, missing last night, is better at holding things up than Donal (a first teamers) so hopefully this will improve.

On a final note, our fitness showed last night. The opposition faded badly towards the end and we finished much stronger, despite never really causing their defense a lot of problems.

Overall, I am down about it. I thought the team's performance would be much better, and I felt I could have played better. There is still a lot of work to be done for our team to be a success.

A Funny Witticism

The following story took place in my kitchen last night. To provide a brief backstory, I am having some friends over for dinner on Friday night, and we were discussing the cast.

YHN: Actually, I think the Wee Yank is around on Friday, so I might as well ask her. She seemed to enjoy it last time.
C: Is the Pornstar coming?
YHN: Yeah. I was talking to her today. I think she's gonna bring her brownies.
C: Excellent. Now we can get the two of them to fight in the kitchen.
YHN: What?!?
C: Think about it, we can get two small, curvy women to wrestle in our kitchen. That would be great to watch!
YHN: Chameleon, is this some weird fantasy of yours?
C: We'll soon find out, won't we?

Getting Sloppy

Looking at my articles, I have just realised that I have not posted here for almost two weeks, which is terrible.

Part of this is having a lack of anything profound to say. Over the summer, I have less time to kill, as I do not teach in DIT, instead spending my days developing software or finishing my PhD.

The inevitable consequence of this is a much higher motivation requirement to write an article. I have been very busy over the last few weeks trying to finish a side-project on a deadline. This is almost done, allowing me to finish my research and submit my PhD dissertation.

Other than that, life has been very boring of late, so there is not much to write about.

I do wish to mention a friend who is currently working in Banda Aceh for Concern, helping with the tsunami relief. She emailed another friend the other day. He had told her I asked after her occasionally. It seems she is put out that I have not spent the last eight months alone in my room, sobbing like a baby, disconsolate at her absence. I found that quite funny.

I am looking forward to her returning. She is pretty crazy, and very easy to wind up in all sorts of entertaining ways.

War of the Worlds

[Note: this blog was written a few days before I posted it. I think this could be a new practise of mine]

I am just at home from having watched War of the Worlds in the cinema. The film impressed me.

Everything Independance Day was not, it is a tense, clever and engaging remake of a sci-fi classic. Having never seen the original, I am not in a position to opine on how they compare.

There are some truly disturbing bits, and it fully deserved its 15 rating here in Ireland. A number of things about the film stood out though.

Primarily, the film explains very little. You leave the theatre with many questions, and I really like that. Too many films leave nothing to doubt. I like the ambiguity.

Secondly, the main character is not admirable. An appalling father, his introduction is not flattering. This is not revolutionary, but it is unusual, and the film is better for it.

Finally, War of the Worlds is subtle. The main character falls apart in a very clever way. The film does not always do the obvious.

Saying any more would necessitate spoiling the film. Go see it.

One Photo

I am trying something new with this article.

Not so much in what I am writing about, but more in how I am writing it. I got my laptop back today. It is 0255 on Sunday morning as I write this, and I am visiting a friend in Ashbourne, Co. Meath. Everyone else has gone to bed, and I am not tired, or at least, not very tired.

I do not have an Internet connection here, so it will be a day or two until I get to post this to The Laboratory of the Mind. I expect this piece to be more of a stream of consciousness than previous articles, so please forgive me if I ramble. Previous articles have had the benefit of introspection, hindsight, and polish, so I intend to publish this unmodified.

I have been accused of filtering myself to much with the audience in mind. “Bland” is a word that stung the most.

“The Mick Cooney I read in the blog is not the raw, cool, abrasive, controversial and funny Mick Cooney that I know.”

Initially, I disagreed. With hindsight, it is possible she had a point. I want to bring the raw.

I got my laptop back today. I had an idea for an article, and decided that Windows Notepad was as good a medium of expression as any, and I wanted to get my thoughts down quickly. Two computer fans drone in my ear. It helps me focus. But what should prompt such an outpouring?

A single, excellent, photo of a friend.

Last night, girls I know informed me that eating problems can and are started by the slightest things. Someone looks at you strange so you think you are fat, and stop eating properly for a while in an attempt to lose weight.

Being a guy, this is bizarre to me, but I understand the overall concept. It never ceases to amaze how a single, innocuous thing triggers profound changes or events.

Having gotten my laptop back, I discovered a friend had left some of her photos on it. Most of them are photos of the ruins of Irish churches, but a few are more standard.

I am not unaware of the voyeuristic implications here, but I doubt the Hobo would have left anything on a laptop that was intensely personal or embarrassing, so I do not sense a moral problem here.

Already I have discovered a problem with my new method. I spent about fifteen minutes crafting my description of the photo in question, only to have a keystroke accident delete everything I wrote.

Abandoning Notepad for the multiple undo feature of MS Word, perhaps I will avoid such mishaps in the future. Now how was it I described this photo?
A close-up head and shoulders shot of her friend standing before a bush on a hillside overlooking water; the photo is a thing of beauty. I am not artistic, most of what I am told is art goes over my head, but however unintentional, this photo can only be described in art.

Of course, the girl herself is beautiful, but with her eyes downcast and the wind tousling her dyed hair, this photo is not just the captivity of female beauty. Everything about it is quality. I am drawn to looking at it.

So why has this single photo had such an effect on me?

The primary reason is my relationship with this girl. One of the most fascinating people I know, nothing physical ever happened between us. I really liked the girl, but circumstance was against me. Even were it not, her feelings for me are still very uncertain.

Once I realised nothing was going to happen, I accepted it, and we remain friends. I was surprised at how quickly my feelings faded, and assumed that the whole thing was my imagination.

Paralysed by that single glance, all came flooding back. Filled with memories, I remembered a hundred trivial things from the previous six months.

There is no profound conclusion to be drawn from this. If there is any point to be made it is the strange way the trivial can affect you. Should anyone else see it, they may not understand. It is, after all, just a simple photo.

I have heard from some that art is about the appreciator taking something personal from the piece, its value being determined by the viewer’s interpretation. Should this be true, this photo is, by definition, a piece of art.

Finally, I genuinely fear that I am rambling self-indulgently as an intellectual snob desperately grasping for profundity. Should this prove unfounded, there is also possibility that the above is simply not interesting. Perhaps I am just pathetic.

I do not care.

I wear my heart on my sleeve. I always have. One of this blog’s stated requirements is for brutal honesty. Above, I wrote about how I felt, as I felt it, for the first time. It was harder than expected, not least because the act of writing is distracting. It is difficult to do. I will probably read this again before I post it and want to make changes, but I hereby promise to do no such thing, short of minor editorial changes for the sake of writing quality.

It is 0450 in the morning. Should I have failed, I have simply wasted around two hours that would otherwise have been spent watching Roger Dodger again with the director’s commentary. I can now go to sleep knowing I tried.