Saturday, April 4, 2009
A New World Cup Qualifier
As one of the growing masses of soccer fans in America (there are now nearly ten of us at least) I was watching the United States national team dynamite TNT on Wednesday night. Granted, they prefer to be known as Trinidad and Tobago, but TNT sounds a lot more impressive and allows me the opportunity to insert a truly awful pun. During the game's occasional lulls my eye wandered to the scoreboard at the bottom of the screen which was showing the various results from different qualifiers around the world that day.
One bludgeoning that really stuck out was the match between Poland and San Marino, which finished in the favor of the light bulb screwers by a score of 10 to nil (nil is a soccer term denoting the fact that your team is offensively impotent and unlikely to get laid so you might as well be that way sexually as well). What the hell, I wondered, is San Marino. Had some rich ass hole created a country and decided to name it after Dan Marino? Being an inquiring mind, I looked up the nation on Wikipedia. With the beauty of the internets now you can to if you are so inclined.
So the "Serene Republic of San Marino doesn't sound all that intimidating does it? No wonder they got slaughtered in their little football encounter. The other reason might be that there are approximately 20 adult males of soccer playing age who are citizens of the country, which is the smallest in Europe population wise that participates in European soccer. Sadly, the pope (AKA the Vatican City Virgins) does not field a team.
Of course this whole incident led to a fermentation of various wacky thoughts within my skull, resulting in a tremendous epiphany. First, how many Pollocks did it take to screw in the light bulb that went on when I came up with this idea?
Let's leave that as a rhetorical question and move on to the crux - I want to create my own country so that me and my buddies can compete to gain a spot in the World Cup. My group will be easily more qualified than San Marino. First of all, we will have a kick ass name that will make all other soccer playing nations shiver in fear when they see our name upon their schedule. Argenitalzilmany! As you will notice the names of all the top winners of World Cups past have been integrated seamlessly into a concoction that will cause mass urination inside the pants of any of our contestants. If we are really lucky, self-defecation will also occur leading to our opponents' disqualification. I hope that is a rule anyway, who wants to play soccer against a bunch of mobile portolets.
Most importantly, I can come up with some serious talent to take on the world. I know way more than 20 adult males, so right there we have San Marino beat. I was the third string goalie for my high school JV team, so that should be all the talent we need. All I have to do is convince nineteen other soccer players (or reasonable facsimiles) to leave their lives in the United States behind, purchase a piece of property, declare independence and defeat the inevitable invading US army. Obviously that will be simple, so I won't bore you to death with the details there. We can even get Maradonna to be our coach, since after getting his head beat against Bolivia this week, he probably won't be allowed back into the country of Argentina. He will always be welcome in Argenitalzilmany.
Well, there you have it, my fiendish plan in a nutshell. If you are interested in joining the team, or in being one of my groupies, just give me a call and we shall chat upon the matter in a jovial manner. If you would rather read some serious soccer material, however, please check out my good friend Robert and his magnificent site Futbol USA.