Fear and Loathing at the Gender Wars

Two nights of Fear and Loathing in a row? Could this be right?

Well yes, yes it could.

Last Saturday I was introduced to the game of Cranium. A fun and clever board game designed for parties and other such activities, I had been hearing about this for around eight months and was very eager to play.

For many months now, a datemate had been talking of playing a Battle of the Sexes, boys against the girls, with Cranium as the means of warfare.

This sounded like a lot of fun. It had all the makings of being another entertaining night and - as everyone knows - I fancy the shit out of one of her friends.

It was at this point that the girls made their fatal mistake.

In a casual conversation about the game, the girls informed us that they expected to win because "girls are more creative than boys." Naturally, we were incensed. Also, the girls had no real idea about how competitive we could be, and it was about the right time we showed them.

Talk and back-talk continued for several months while we tried to organise a suitable weekend. It finally arrived last Saturday. Tired from football, flush from another swim and sauna, I jumped on a bus to Ashbourne, our designated Colliseum for the evening.

My legs still ached from the searing heat and running during the game, but I spurned several lift offers out to the house. I wanted some time to think, I had my iPod, and I wanted the five minute walk for the sake of my libs.

Walking into the estate, the girls drove past me in the car, so I immediately donned my Poker Face as I walked nonchalantly toward the lads who had gathered at the house wall. Nodding politely at the Enemy, I noticed the Girl had a pair of sunglasses on. She looked amazing. I decided the best way of preserving any semblance of dignity was to just keep staring ahead at the lads.

The lads cast some casual insults that I could not hear, so I seized upon them like a life-ring, taking umbrage with gleeful aplomb. Anything to stop my slack-jawed staring.

Inside, our hosts had done a job. The spread on the table was a sight to behold. I was almost ashamed to disrupt the elegant symmetry of the table by taking a cheese and grape toothpick appetiser.

Slowly, everyone gathered inside. The Girl was there, and I casually conversed. Despite knowing this girl for almost two years now, we only see each other sporadically, and I always feel stupid talking to her, no matter how confident I appear. There is always that desperate attempt to say the funny line, or utter the interesting point, or appear to be very clever. No matter how brutally I suppress him, the tongue-tieing teenage terrorist always finds a way to wreak his havoc, with very little in the way of prior warning.

What makes the whole experience so perplexing is that the Girl has a fantastically warm and open personality. Once I manage to start a conversation, I can never understand why I get so nervous initially. I resolve to never be so stupid in the future, only to revert to type every next time.

The plan for the evening was very straightforward. We were ordering food, eating, then playing Cranium. I accompanied the Lawyer to the curry house, under strict instructions to inform everyone afterwards about the quality of his driving.

My first hit came while serving the food.

While doling out the Indian, I noticed a very small and light tray. The cardboard top was unmarked. My curiosity piqued, I opened it, to find some chopped lettuce and peppers in it. Wearing what I can only assume was a bewildered expression, I spun around from the worktop, held up the tray, displayed its contents to the entire room and asked, very pointedly, "okay, so who ordered the salad?"

Now, it was not my intention to be funny, but I would be lying if I said the Girls explosion of laughter upset me.

"Go Mick! You made her laugh and you weren't even trying! You Legend!"

I slowly turned back to the worktop, and continued with my labours.

For those of you wondering, I ordered a Chicken Madras with a Chapati and a Naan bread. Delicious. It was totally worth the ribbing I got for all the sweating it caused. I could not keep my forehead dry for thirty minutes after the meal.

As game-time approached, the nerves began to creep in. It should surprise nobody that I had laid a lot on the line for this game. Unable to resist the temptation, a lot of trash-talk was in circulation, and we needed to win. SERIOUS gloating rights were at stake here.

My nerves were not helped by my friends. Trying to sit at the head of the table, I was continuously moved until I found myself seated next to the Girl.

"NO!!! But also... YEAH!!!"

For those of you unaware of the game Cranium, it is a party game which combines elements of games like Pictionary, Trivial Pursuit, Charades, etc. The idea is to move your piece around the board. Each square has a colour corresponding to an activity such as Trivia (simply answering a question), spelling words, solving anagrams, imitating a famous celebrity without using names, indicating a word using modelling clay or drawing pictures, and so on.

Some questions are denoted "Club Cranium," allowing all teams to participate, the first team to guess correctly gaining the benefit. Unlike a lot of other games, guessing correctly does not allow you to go again. It is a lot of fun, and I highly recommend it for parties etc.

"Okay Mick, all you have to do is be cool, do your thing at the table, win the game, and don't be too much of an ass. It is good that you are right beside her. You are naturally quite impressive, you are pretty sure she still likes you, just be yourself. Make some funny comments about how the girls are gonna lose. You'll be fine. She'll thinking the sweating is cos of the curry. Keep telling her that there's no pressure. You'll make her laugh naturally. You did it ten minutes ago and you weren't even trying!"

I had finally convinced myself into my happy place of calm when disaster struck. The modelling clay needed to be warmed up for the game. I volunteered. I like its squidgy texture as I knead it on my palm. Reaching over to take a piece, the Chameleon said loudly "That's right Mick, you are perfect for the job, you having such strong wrists!"

Bastard.

I was fortunate that only one person really heard.

I was unfortunate that the one person was the Girl.

A burst of laughter exploded directly behind my back. I decided the best thing to do was ignore it, taking solace from the fact that I love to laugh at the embarrassment of people I really like.

What should have been a Strike could be interpreted as a Hit, so I decided against wreaking bloody vengeance upon the Chameleon.

Natually, the lads built up a commanding early lead. My fears had proved groundless. As I suspected, we were very good at Cranium. I proved to have a talent for imitation, going 5-0 in all my activities that night.

My first call up was a Club Cranium. The person was John Cleese and I immediately stepped into the funny walk. We got it in less than a half-second. The Girl protested, claiming she guessed it at the same time. This should have proved to be a dilemma for me. It did not. Casually dismissing her weak protests as groundless, we claimed the victory.

Looking back, while she did guess it early, my team guessed as I was bringing up my knee for the first step. Still, we probably should have given her more of a chance to say her piece.

Through some very lucky rolling by the girls and poor play and rolling by us, the girls drew level three-quarters of the way around the board. It was game on. Still very confident, we were forced to move into the front room as it was after 2300 at night and our noise had disturbed the neighbours.

Disappointed I was no longer beside the Girl, my finest moment came almost immediately. On a Club Cranium impersonation, we drew Meg Ryan. As soon as time started, I rushed to a seat, closed my eyes, looked upwards and started screaming "YES! YES! YES!" The lads guessed it after about two and a half seconds.

That was the moment when the girls knew they had lost.

They had just watched a grown man fake a fake female orgasm in the pursuit of victory, and this bizarre event had brought about a victory in two seconds.

Two other moments stood out. The Big JL had to act out the "tooth fairy." His act was priceless. With a level of contempt Jack Dee would kill for, he pointed at his tooth and flapped his arms. We did not get it at the first attempt.

Giving us a look which I can only describe as pure scorn, he angrily pointed at his tooth again, allowing us to guess "tooth", and then forcibly flapped his hands. There was no relief or delight when we guessed it this time, merely an exasperated sigh as he sat back down.

The second moment came as I tried to impersonate a taxidermist. I made a stuffing motion, went down on my knees to impersonate a dog. Unsurprisingly, the lads were none the wiser.

I needed to show them it was all sorts of animals. For some stupid reason, my mind thought "cow", my lips went "MOO!" and the Chameleon went "Taxidermist!"

How he got it, I will never know. In fact, thinking about it, it is quite disturbing. Leaving aside the obvious disconnect of "MOO!" and "Taxidermist" for a moment, hands up who has ever seen a stuffed cow on display?

At the finish, you need to do each of the four categories correctly, finishing with a challenge chosen by the opposition to win. We did this with minimum fuss, and happily won ourselves a free dinner at the girl's expense.

Suddenly, the lads wanted to go home. I looked at them like they were insane. Did they honestly expect me to leave the Girl? Did they not see how amazing she looked? Did they have a heart behind those rib-cages of theirs? Were they doing this just to annoy me?

I resolved to let the lightweights go home to their beds. I was staying on. I was gonna talk to the girls. More importantly, I was gonna gloat like hell. Serious gloating rights were in my possession, and it was very much my intention to exploit this.

Suddenly the Lawyer told me he had to get up early to go to the office, so there was no point in staying on. I may as well leave with the lads. Totally deflated, I resigned to leave with the others.

I mournfully bade my farewells, telling the girls "It was very nice to beat you."

You see what I did there, yeah?

I subsequently learned that the girls were very disappointed in the manner with which we left. They were expecting a full-on night out, and had brought the ingredients for cocktails. Getting very drunk was very much on the agenda. It also seems that I was the only guy to actually say "Goodbye".

Their plan for vengeance is impressive. They are gonna go to dinner with us, pay for our starters, and make like a jersey-wearing Celtic fan blundering into Rangers Supporters Association Christmas party.

Despite still being a sore point for me, I found that idea class.

The dinner should be a lot of fun. Any sorry bastard that even mentions home before 0300 in the morning is gonna get their mobile phone number posted to fifty "Accomodation to Let" ads on the Daft.ie website. Consider this a warning.

On a plus note, I also learned that the girls were extremely impressed with our ability to play the game. Some were quite put out at the time

But what about the Girl, Mick, what about the Girl?

Well, my intelligence network is somewhat shady on this one. All the old complications are still there of course, but a new one appeared this week. It seems in a conversation with a fourth party, I was referred to as "the friend who used to like me, but doesn't anymore."

Yes folks, it is true. All women are crazy.

[Spartak] Premier Sat at Peamount

This was a very disappointing defeat for me.

Three games in three days was a daunting prospect, especially when I try to play the way I want. This usually involves a lot of running and my legs were very tired going into the game. Part of me feared that I would not be up to it.

The starting team was Foley, Greene, O'Connell, Keane, J. Tannem, Cooney, Gibney, Stafford, Brehoney, Dawson, Nolan. Subs: McNamee for Nolan, Mohan for Gibney.

I was initially playing at left-fullback, but MacAuley was not fit to start, so O'Connell came in and I was moved into the right-side of midfield. Being honest, I was delighted. O'Connell would start in every one of my teams, and our midfield lacks competitiveness, so I was now in a position to help.

We started quite sluggish, and they are a poorer team than Rathfarnham were at the weekend. My legs were very stiff and it took me a long time to warm up and get into the game, despite getting on the ball a few times early on in.

Their goal came from a free-kick just outside the area. Curling high towards the crossbar, it hit the underside, bounced straight down onto the keeper's foot and went in. It was a very unfortunate goal, but these things happen in football.

It was the only time they really threatened us. They had a few attacks, but nothing very major, and I think we need to mark this game down as a bad defeat. We put on the pressure, and a created a number of chances, but could not break them down.

There are a number of problems with the team. We have a bunch of very decent players, and the potential to be a good team is very evident. Unfortunately, we are not used to playing together yet, due to the fragmented nature of our preseason, with players and management not being sure of the squads they had to work with.

A second reason is the lack of real competitiveness. Some of our players are not nearly physical enough. On the attack, especially, we are very easy knocked off the ball, and a number of promising possessions broke down very easily, with a defender dispossessing our player and coming out with it.

This is very evident when it comes to free kicks and dead balls. Peamount played it short from deadballs at least 80% of the time, and we were very slow to close them down. While this is not true for the whole team, I do feel that there are a number of players on the team who need to up the commitment levels.

It is not all negative. Most of the things we need are in place. Quite a few of our players look to do the right thing and play it on the ground. Sometimes, the ball needs to fly, but even then, that is usually because our midfield (including myself) are not trying hard enough to be in a position to receive it comfortably.

Also, should we gain that competitive attitude, I think our team will do well. A lot of this will come once our team begins to gel, and hopefully this will happen sooner rather than later.

We did have a clear-cut penalty denied us near the end, Dawson being cut down in the box and then getting booked for diving. which even the opposition admitted after the game, and that may have changed things. Also, in injury time, a corner came across but a mix-up between our players resulted in the ball going wide.

My own game was decent enough, and I did a lot of running by the end of the game once my legs finally warmed up. It was very tough going though, and I was exhausted by the end. One personally memorable moment came when I turned my marker in a fifty-fifty ball which brought a huge cheer from the lads along the line. I was too busy to enjoy it at the time, but I do look back on it with a smile. Getting a huge cheer from your team is always a boost. Yet again, there was a decent crowd along the line, and I really like that about this year. Our team spirit is quite strong.

Still, our record for the start of the season is 1-from-6, which is not the start I was hoping for.

Fear and Loathing at the Pornstar's Dinner

The Pornstar is pretty deep in my debt right now.

As I take every opportunity to remind her, I have faciliated her meeting of men, her filling of the belly, not to mention the fact that I had a hand in her getting a degree! On last Friday her repayments began.

Dinner at the Pornstar Mansion has a very exciting ring to it, and the night was no let-down.

To get myself in the mood, I had a visit to the Markevicz Leisure Centre just off Pearse Street. The Pornstar and I are currently competing. The rules are simple. Whoever goes to the gym the most by the end of each month wins, earning something worth around EUR30.

Our gym visits are complicated by the fact that we both play sport, so it is very much based on an honour system. Fortunately, I trust the Pornstar, and I do not cheat at games, so it has proved to fun.

Anyway, I knew the Pornstar was tied up on Friday with the food preparations, so I decided to make an opportunist gym visit, thereby taking a well-deserved lead. I love swimming, and it helps my recovery a lot after training and matches, so the added bonus of winning something is barely necessary.

The gym visit held me up slightly, and I had to detour to Tesco on St. Stephen's Green to buy some drink and some ice-cream, so I arrived a little later than planned.

Things were hectic as I got in the door. The food was almost ready and there was a collection of stressed females fussing around in the kitchen. The Pornstar herself was in full-on hostess mode, so as Jimi Hendrix once said about Gloria "it was all happenin' baby!"

I did notice something strange.

The Pornstar has two female friends. Displaying the decisiveness of a woman in a clothes shop, I originally liked Number One (she who I desperately and ineffectually tried to talk to at the Pornstar's birthday), but have now moved over to Number Two.

While trying to put drinks into the fridge, Number Two fussed over, demanded I get out of the way, and muttered something about being "put you number two on my hit list." Somewhat perplexed by this hostile attitude, I got out of there. If the girls where the lionesses and the food was a litter of cubs, I was very much the lame gazelle loitering around the edges of the pride in a state of ill-advised bravado.

Dinner was served a little later. The food was fantastic, as artistic and exotic as my fare is functional, the chefs did a wonderful job. Initial fears about quantity proved groundless. The tuna and tomato risotto was a particular favourite, though I was extremely impressed by the cheese-stuffed peppers prepared by Number One.

The Pornstar had a male friend visiting from England. Nervous and paranoid, I was warned from numerous people to be on my best behaviour "but in a vetting and assessing sort of way." What exactly everyone was expecting me to do at the dinner is anyone's guess. While I had no intention of embarrassing anyone (at least in a bad way) - I had ZERO intention of behaving myself.

Still somewhat shocked at being put on a hit list for putting soft drinks in a fridge, I resolved to ascertain exactly what I had done to offend Number Two. After all, one cannot very well shmooze when one is on the shit list. It was possible it was just the Crazy Factor at work (I remember getting in trouble with my sister one morning for eating Cornflakes for breakfast), but I needed to be sure.

It seems that the Chameleon had arrived before me and succeeded in inadvertently antagonising the girls. My arrival and unfortunate choice of timing rendered a verdict of Guilt By Association.

A strange consequence of the smoking ban in Ireland is the custom of going outside to smoke. Many smokers have developed an aversion to smoking indoors and now automatically, irrespective of what building they are in, head for the outdoors to satisfy their nicotine fix.

The Pornstar's doorstep was a testament to this new phenomenon. The main dinner room was quite full, and warm with radiated body heat, so the time had came to venture forth. The Chameleon had already struck up a conversation with the Swede (despite her boyfriended status), but I never really warmed to her and left him to it.

Two minutes later I was sitting on the doorstep involved in a conversation about dEUS with one of the friends of the Pornstar. It was moments like this where my iPod comes in very handy. She had never heard of them, so I played her a few songs. She seemed to really like "Instant Street" and "Hotellounge (Be the Death of Me)" but was not as impressed by "Suds N Soda" or "Secret Hell".

Over to my left, Number One and Number Two were involved in a phone/text combo conversation. Number Two became worried when she realised she had accidentally vouched for a male friend seeking to live with two other females, known to both by Number One and Number Two, but not each other.

Determined to keep her credibility, but now quite drunk, Number Two called up the new tenant on the phone, and warned him he needed to not screw up.

"Listen to me! I've vouched for you with the two girls! Their mother is wary of a guy living with them and the only reason you got it is cos of me! I'm serious now. Fuck this up and you are dead! ... Stop laughing! It's not funny! ... I'm dead serious! I mean it, if you screw this up I will kill you! ... Will you stop laughing?"

Number Two then started talking about an ex-boyfriend of the Pornstar, and how he now is "just one of the girls" Apparently, you can say anything in front of him, and it does not matter. He does not count as a man, not really. Littered amongst the conversations where those classic chestnuts "He is such a dote!" and "Bless him, he is such a nice guy!"

Horrified for the poor bastard, it was time to go bacl inside. Shuddering at the thought of what he hears from the girls on a regular basis, I shut down my imagination before it rendered me unconscious and insane.

Billy Joe was sitting by himself, enjoying a cool one. The Swede had gone upstairs to check on her sick boyfriend. Sitting down beside him, I realised that Number One and Number Two were both very drunk and were going home.

Still, I had tried!

A while later, my freshly-minted dEUS fan was washing dishes at the sink. Somehow the conversation moved around to the topic of gross moral turpitude.

FMdF: Turpitude? What the hell does that mean?
C: Well, gross moral turpitude is what get fired for if you are a lecturer and have sex with your students. You are "dismissed by reason of gross moral turpitude."
YHN: I'm sure turpitude means something like that, but you only ever really see it in that context.
FMdF: I don't like it when I am in a conversation and people start using words I don't understand.
YHN: I wouldn't worry about it, I'm sure it is just your contrafibularities getting the better of you!
FMdF: WHAT?

Bewildered at what I said, she stared blankly as the Chameleon and I creased with laughter. As cruel as it was, I could not resist the temptation of using the Blackadder joke. Once we explained it to her, she saw the funny side and I my pangs of guilt faded.

By 0100, I had become fatigued and we headed for the Glasnevin. My attempts to speak to Number Two had failed as ignominiously as with Number One at the Pornstar's Birthday.

[Spartak] Friendly at Fenstanton

The friendly on Sunday was my first outing for the first team this season. I was on the team at the end of last season playing at centre-half, where I played well, but the team had an influx of some players during pre-season, so it seems that my role will be reduced to a bit part again.

While personally disappointed, I want to play at as high a standard as I can, this is a positive development for the club. The first team should set the bar for the club, and that has not happened over the last few seasons.

So far, we look good this year. A vast improvement on previous years, our team is fitter, more competitive, and most important, more reliable. We have had a lot of trouble getting numbers on a Sunday morning, and the manager finally snapped during the preseason. I think it is fair to say that talented messers will not see much football this year.

Anyway, Fenstanton are a team a bit below our standard, but they agreed to play us anyway. Our starting team was Massey, Dunne, O'Toole, K. Buckley, Caffrey, Mongey, W. O'Connell, K. O'Connell, Tom, Byrne, Delaney.

Caffrey pulled up injured very early and was replaced by Dan O'Connell, with O'Toole moving inside. We played well, with our midfield controlling most of the play and our defense giving up very little.

I was sprung from the bench after about 30 mins to replace Dunne (just back from injury) and went straight in at right-back. We were 2-0 up at the time, the goals coming from Byrne and Delaney.

I would love to say that the three goals we scored within five minutes of my entry into the fray was causal, but it had little to do with it. I am still not fully comfortable at this level, and I think it is nerves.

I have a tendency to rush forward somewhat rashly, as this is my natural game, and you cannot do that at this level. The wingers are too fast and skillful, and you will be punished for being exposed at the back.

In the second half, we really took over, adding another two goals. My best moment came on a forward run as I beat my marker (surprising considering my lack of pace) and brought it to the by-line. Looking up, I cut the ball back straight to Steve Mongey who yelled "Oh Lovely!!!" just before he blasted it a foot over the bar.

Somehow, after the game, I still got the grief for that miss, because Steve told everyone he missed it cos he never expected me to get to the ball! My teammates are bastards sometimes.

Finishing 7-0, despite the weak opposition, was a good result. It has been a while since our team have put teams away in the clinical fashion of Sunday, and I am now quietly confident for our prospects for the coming year.

[Spartak] Premier Sat at Rathfarnham Punters

The first match of the season is always a strange game for me.

Due to the constant personnel changes and variable opposition in pre-season friendlies, I never have a good sense of the strength of our team for the coming season. It has always been the first competitive game that provides the indication.

The starting line-up was somewhat controversial: Massey, Keane, Cooney, Benson, J. Tannem, D. Tannem, Stafford, Gibney, Brehony, MacAuley, Kelly. Subs: O'Connell for Gibney, McNamee for MacAuley, Mohan for Stafford.

A number of the team have poor attendance records at training, and a number of better trainers were left on the line. It is not my place to comment on the selection policy of the management, however, I merely wished to make note of it.

Playing at left-back, I still have not managed to settle in the defense. My marking was erratic, but I feel that some of the blame has to go to the defensive unit as a whole. I was constantly being sucked into the middle to pick up free forwards, and confusion was far too common in the first half.

I did manage to get forward a few times to support the attack, and we created a few chances, with Brehony breaking through to finish coolly for the first goal of the season. It was slightly against the run of play however, and we did not get much of a grip on midfield.

Much of our play was erratic, with a lot of balls hoofed forward. Fluid and flowing football it most certainly was not.

Their equaliser came just after half-time. We defended much too deep from a free kick, and the Punters forward got on the end of the cross and scored. They then took the lead a few minutes later through a terrible mixup in the back which gifted the Punters a simple tap-in.

Gibney had aggravated his muscle strain, and Dan O'Connell replaced him, moving me into centre midfield. Dan is a great little player and fit right in. Free to put my complaints into practise, I tried to impose myself in the middle, and felt like I performed decently.

With Dan's pace on the left, and myself and Stafford competing more physically in the middle, we imposed ourselves more, finally getting a deserved equaliser on the break from a corner. I played the ball on the turn through to Brehony, who slipped it inside to Kelly to coolly finish.

With the game in the balance, and the sun beating down, the game ebbed and flowed, finishing a draw. Overall, it was probably a fair result. There are still a few questions over some of our players, and we still lack bite in a number of areas. Still, a result is a result, as they say, and Rathfarnham Punters are a decent side. We have another match tonight away at Peamount, so I will reserve judgement on our side until after this game.

[Spartak] Friendly with Sandyford Rovers

Another pre-season friendly, another dismal defeat.

We arrived at Marlay for a friendly with a team called Finreddy, but they never showed. To ensure that we had a game, we drafted a team that was training one pitch over, and gave them our training bibs.

Playing 4-4-2 again, the starting lineup was Dermot, Keane, Cooney, Benson, J. Tannem, Brehony, Maher, Mohan, Gibney, MacAuley, Dawson.

We were very poor. While we did play some decent football, one dissatisfied players aptly described our approach as "old women's football." Shy into the tackle, we lack greatly in any sense of urgency.

My play was poor again. I have started to pass the ball poorly and I am not happy with that. Having said that, I was not the worst on the pitch, and I have set myself high standards for the coming season.

Playing at left-back, I have yet to feel comfortable in the position. Considering the lack of workrate in front of me, I also would prefer to move into midfield. Missing true competitors, I cannot help but fear for our soft centre. Once the competitions start at the weekend, I wonder how some of our players will respond to the physical nature of the game.

Another major issue is the lack of players training. Again, this needs to improve.

My posts on this topic have been very negative, and with good reason. I now have genuine concerns for the coming season for our team. The Sunday team appear to be moving in the right direction, at least, and it is good that they are setting the standards for training, attitude and committment.

The Saturday team now needs to respond, step up and be counted. I do not want to play through another season like we had last year.

[Spartak] Friendly with Cherryfield

My second friendly of the new season was last night. It could not come quick enough. I have trained hard in this pre-season, but I started to get training-fatigue from the lack of matches.

Last night we played Cherryfield up in Tibradden. I did not feel good at the start of the match. My stomach has been giving me some trouble and it was tough to tune into the match.

The starting lineup was Massey, Greene, Cooney, Keane, J. Tannem, Kelly, Gibney, D. Tannem, Reid, MacAuley, Dawson.

We started poorly and I was very unhappy with my first-half performance. I was off the pace for much of the first half and would ruin my good play with a sloppy pass at the end of a sequence, losing possession.

Once we got over that initial stutter, things improved, but I still did not feel comfortable. Frustrated with my play, I decided to compensate by getting forward as much as possible and lending some bite to our midfield.

I had a big hand in our first goal, taking a crossfield pass down in a fifty-fifty ball. The ball then broke and Alan Foley latched onto it, shooting into the net.

My one big mistake led to their second goal. A header from Dex (Keane) went behind me, forcing a chase. Instead of letting it go out for a throw, I tried to pass it back to Dex, but underhit it. With the ball live, the cross was blocked by John Tannem, who had put his arms in the air. The penalty was duly scored, and the game was level again at 2-2.

The second half was much better. Relieved at not being substituted, I settled much better in the second half as my fitness began to show. I supported the attack a lot, won a few headers once I moved into midfield, and even had a shot on goal that just went wide of the post.

Cherryfield were a poor side, and we should have won by much more than 4-2, squandering quite a few chances, especially as the game wound down.

The best moment of the game came from Frank McNamee, still recovering from a broken leg last Christmas. Always full of effort, he was running into the middle of the box, hotly pursued by myself, both trying to support Alan Foley's running down the right wing.

As the cross came in, Frank could not get his head to it, so flung himself bodily at the ball. Hitting his chest the ball slowly crept into the corner of the goal. Inexplicably, despite the howls of protest from our line, the referee gave a free out. I can only assume it was for offside, despite Frank being behind his marker as the ball came across. The referee is poor, so it might have been anything.

I also feel that the midfield lacks bite. Dan Tannem had a good game, harrassing the player in possession and managed to steal it far more than he had any right to. Other than that, despite having some very talented ball-players, I still need to question our tenacity, especially in the tough battles that are to come.

Still, a win is a win, and we managed to score some goals. Things need to improve, we still need better training attendance, but I remain optimistic for the coming season.

The Irish Curse

All you American ladies out there know what I am talking about.

Last night, with the Chameleon and the Hobo, over salad in Cafe Bar Deli on Grafton Street, I learned a disturbing fact. In a buoyant mood due to a flirty waitress, the Chameleon and I began to tell the Hobo of how American girls love us Irish guys due to our accents and our gregarious demeanour.

Of course, not all Irish guys are gregarious, and not all American girls love us, but we were talking in generalisations.

The Hobo assented, then landed the bombshell.

In America, there is widespread belief in the "Irish curse" - anatomically, Irish guys tend to be quantitatively inferior.

I had heard of no such thing, and neither had the Chameleon. Incensed, he began to speak of correctional ads in the New York Times. The Hobo was adamant, informing us that she gets asked about it sometimes when home on holidays.

Naturally, we inquired about her response to such questions. Claiming she was not in a position to answer, when pressed, she did admit to hearing complaints from many of her American friends.

This morning, I researched the topic on the Internet. The Hobo's claim held up. Worse still, it comes with a large amount of apocryphal evidence. Not exactly scientific, admittedly, but enough to raise questions.

In the past, this issue has concerned me. I cannot be sure, but I believe I fall within normal parameters. In any case, worrying about it is a complete waste of time. The Chameleon did not take my demure approach. I cannot help but think that he will suffer for his reaction. The Hobo had a wicked and amused smile as she patiently listened to his rant.

This will come back to haunt him.

One thing does concern me. One of my fondest memories of New York was a night out with the Author, who I holidayed with, and the Groom, a friend from home. Deciding to drink to mark the occasion, I spent a good portion of the evening talking animatedly to every American girl I could find.

I thought I was doing great. I had enough of my wits about me to notice that the girls found me hilarious. I would yabber on about everything, going from topics like the upcoming 2004 US Presidential Election, to the price of alcohol, to excellent films currently on release in the space of about 40 seconds.

I do not remember much about any of the girls I spoke to, other than they spent most of the time laughing. They quite clearly had never experienced anything like it before.

I thought this was due to my uniquely novel (to them) approach of combining an incredibly intoxicated demeanour with a funny and engagingly charismatic conversational line.

Alas, what if it was because "that Irish guy talked a lot for someone with a small dick?"

The Business

On a couch with my laptop, Season One of Scrubs in the DVD Drive, a broadband connection for the browsing of the Internet, Leeds is playing on Sky Sports in front of me, and they have just won a penalty.

Throw in a fat guy in a suit, and you got Christmas.

Not Grim Up North

The more perceptive of you might notice the timestamp for this posting. It is not a mistake.

I am sitting on the couch in my friend's home in Ardglas in Co. Down, using my laptop to write this. Everyone is in bed, just me and my blog (with the first season of Scrubs on DVD keeping us company). My friend grew up here, and a few years ago we had the bright idea to visit for a weekend while his parents were away. We enjoyed it so much, it has become something of an annual tradition.

It is beautiful up here. His house is across the road from the Irish Sea. Along the coast is a lighthouse. On a dark night, the only sight visible is the flashing of that beam to a regular rhythm.

This weekend has confirmed something I suspected. I blog more often when I have internet access. While I sometimes can write articles without a connection and post them later, it is much easier to write when you have the instant gratification of seeing the article online immediately.

Tonight was fun. The lads stood out in the garden for over 30 mins, despite the chilling weather. I was very nervous bringing my laptop outside. It was so dark, the light from the LCD screen blinded me. At one point, I needed the light to stop me from tripping.

Initially, I considered the Cat Deeley wikipedia article incongruous to the astronomy sites being viewed elsewhere. In my brain, having a fantastic-looking woman on a website was completely at odds with the geek sites on the other tabs.

Of course, I quickly realised that having a woman on your web-browser while performing astronomical research is the quintessential geekdom approach to sex, so my assorted collection of websites was not as unusual as I first thought.

The reason for Cat Deeley?

Well, first of all, in all honesty, she is FINE. Well fine. With personality too.

Secondly, a datemate's friend looks like her, to the extent that whenever Ms. Deeley appears on a magazine I tell my friends that "I saw the Girl today on the cover of Kershplock." This friend appeared in our conversation tonight, she was in my thoughts, and a front lawn overlooking a lighthouse was as good a location as any to discover what Wikipedia had to say about the beautiful Brummie.

Anyway, I have a few things I want to blog about, so I expect to write a few entries over the next couple of days. Hopefully, I will manage to stay on-topic for those entries.

Not the Most Flattering Insight

As I write this, I am sitting on a deckchair outside my friend's house beside the Irish Sea in Northern Ireland, trying to ignore the fact that it is quite cold.

Using the broadband connection and the joys of wireless technology, I am trying to find the location of stars in the Night Sky while my three friends work up a plethora of neck problems in the future. While of major interest to me as a child, space and astronomy has lost much of its fascination for me. I am content to type away with no stimulation but the relatively bright glare from the laptop screen and noise of the sea and my friends arguing over stars.

Naturally, I use Firefox as my web browser, and it currently has five tabs open. I am writing this on the first tab. The second tab is a webmail connection to my email address. The third is on SPACE.com. The fourth is a page found through Google detailing the "Great Summer Triangle" - the legacy of my friend's most recent information request. The fifth and final tab? The wikipedia entry for Cat Deeley.

I am sure you would love to hear more, but I have just been asked to confirm that the galaxy Andromeda has the astronomical denomination "Messier Object 31".

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

Having looked forward to a Tim Burton remake for quite some time, I was a little disappointed by the remake.

I loved the original film. Gene Wilder was excellent as the quirky and eccentric Willy Wonka, the songs are funny and fitting, and it has a simple quality to the whole thing.

Once I heard Tim Burton and Johnny Depp were combining to make a version, I became intrigued. One aspect I have always found fascinating about the story is the dichotomy of this wonderful factory of sweets, chocolates and delights and the scary reality of the place.

Gaudy, vaudeville, and at time, nightmarish, this huge gothic factory which should be like a small piece of heaven, is, in reality, something closer to a bad LSD trip manifest in the world.

Nothing better personifies this than the proprieter himself. Willy Wonka is mad. Plain and simple. His genius has helped him create the impossible to delight the world, but the flipside is that his presence is very disturbing.

The film did not quite capture this in the manner I was hoping for. It is still well worth the ticket price, and the disappointment is much more my fault than that of the film.

Two things annoyed me.

Firstly, the fact that everyone referred to chocolate as 'candy' started to grate. It an American film, they call sweets candy, and that is fine. Chocolate is chocolate though.

At one point, David Kelly (who plays Grandpa Joe, well) looks at a bar of pure chocolate, and calls it candy. It broke my suspension of disbelief a little.

Secondly, I did not like the new emphasis on Willy Wonka and his family. While Christopher Lee is a welcome addition to any film, it made the ending a little saccharine for my taste.

Otherwise, I thought it was very good. I liked the new Oompa-Loompas and their songs, I thought Johnny Depp was brilliantly weird, and the factory looked cool. I just wish they had made it a little bit nastier and scarier.