cklablog

Benitez tells Liverpool owners to end their feud

I’m not saying they’re muppets . . . but they’re muppets. Still, even clumsy Texan muppets are better than *evil dictator* muppets (coughDubaicough).

Yesterday, I was surfing around teh intarweb, and I found these two snippets that kind of summarize the difference between the American approach to sports and that of the Rest of the World (tm).

One of my favorite ESPN writers, the Sports Guy, had this to say about Barry Bonds’ tarnished legacy:

The pre-BALCO Bonds was the single best player of the 1990s—a flawless leftfielder who averaged .302/36/108 with an on-base percentage of .434, joined the 40/40 club and earned three MVPs and eight Gold Gloves. Had he finished his career the old-fashioned way, Bonds would have cruised into Cooperstown. Now he’ll likely be left out until the day the Hall wises up and opens a wing for disgraced legends.

Here, American sports fan, have some numbers, statistics and then some more statsistics to support those other statistics. "A .434 OBP? What a stud!" Numbers are the symbols of the left brain, and they imply absolutes — rigid truths, facts; a way to parse into knowing a nebulous, frightening and mysterious universe.

Accross the pond, they’re okay with the fact that sport is as often as not approached simply as an entertainment. They write about it with a similar language to theatre reviews, or art critique:

The Guardian looks forward to the Champions League semi-finals:

Barcelona versus Manchester United is not just a football match; it is one of the great occasions. Chelsea against Liverpool feels more like a struggle for expression, one that brings back memories of Jorge Valdano’s withering assessment of their last semi-final.

"Chelsea and Liverpool are the clearest, most exaggerated example of the way football is going: very intense, very collective, very tactical, very physical, and very direct," he said. "But, a short pass? Noooo. A feint? Noooo. A change of pace? Noooo. A one-two? A nutmeg? A backheel? Don’t be ridiculous. None of that. If football is going the way Chelsea and Liverpool are taking it, we had better be ready to wave goodbye to any expression of the cleverness and talent we have enjoyed for a century."

God forbid.

I, for one, am not prepared to wave goodbye to cleverness.

Best fans in the world? Well, the hardest working at least. You don’t get that kind of physique by passing up beers and going home early.

(Pompey is Portsmouth — an English top flight football club.)

This kid freaking out wasn’t far from our reaction here at Chez CK, except we ran outside instead of down the hall, and everyone I was with was screaming instead of taking videos so they could make fun of me later.

I also notice that this kid wore his lucky KU underwear, so if that was the superstition that tipped the scales instead of the hole in The Closer’s sock, then sir? I salute you.

This weekend has just been magical for Kansas fans. From the butterflies to knots to highs to lows to the most amazing finish in a NCAA title game . . . whew. We’re all still pretty floaty around here. Lawrence is the Happiest Little Town in America right now.

Obviously, I’ve got thoughts and thoughts that might become pixellated words in this blog, but for now, let me just say . . .