Thoughts on women's football at the Olympics

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha jesus wept they're inept ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

The only man in America without a TV

I finally have the internet at home. Thank god (well, Comcast and the fat cheque I'm going to have to send them every month*). I also have a telephone, which is useful as my mobile doesn't seem to get reception here... And I can't get a contract with another provider until my Social Security number comes through.

Which has been a nightmare, and shown up the utter incompetence of the witless bureaucracy here. I've waited over 7 weeks for something that should have taken 4 (at most), all because they needed proof of my wife's US citizenship. I'm finding it very difficult to obtain that. Once the cretins realised their error, they kindly threw a piece of paper at me and told me I'd have the number within two weeks. No apology. No explanation. Bastards.

Of course, I had to go to Trenton (right-most image, BTW). By bus. Because my car is unregistered. Because I don't have a social security number. Bastards. A bus which was only 40 minutes late, but had the saving grace of being (i) air conditioned and (ii) mostly empty. Trenton appears to be nice big government buildings interspersed with boarded up terraces. Which is nice. I probably won't be hurrying back.

So anyway, I have the internet, I have a phone, and I have a cable box. At some point in the next week or so, my TV should turn up. I'm looking forward to watching some sport in HD. Or I will, once the crappy sports season ends and something good begins. In the meantime, I'll have to use iPlayer, the equivalents over here, and cycle to the cinema. Oh well...

*Figuratively. Obviously, I'll be able to pay using the interwebs.

Slappers

In trying to avoid the shockingly poor things they show on TV inbetween the adverts here (and by God, it is awful: mostly horrifically unfunny sitcoms (i.e. re-runs of Friends. And worse!: America's somethingest something; US Idol X Factor Dance On Ice; news read by over-coiffured hairdos with botox-rigid vacuous smiles, who can only inject emotion into a subject by lowering their voices and attempting to maintain eye contact with whichever guest stuck next to them on the sofa, etc), I have mostly stuck to ESPN, the mypoically parochial sports channel dedicated to any sport that is only played in the USA and one or two other countries. Speaking of which, I have become strangely hypnotised by softball. Not, of course, that this is professional softball though. No. This is College softball.

I don't quite understand the rules. It appears to be a version of baseball, which is of course a version of rounders played by testicularly challenged steroid-injecting cubans, contested by chunky misfits from midwest towns or blonde bimbos caked in mascara (during the match, under their helmets) from SoCal.

But the most compelling thing about this sport was (as with all American sportscasts) the commentary. It was hard to keep a straight face when they commentators insisted on referring to half of the players as "slappers". I'm sure that there is a tecchnical reason for it, but no sport - or TV channel - deserves anything but mockery when presenters can say, with a straight face (I kid you not): "it's incredible what slappers can do with a little bit of height on their balls..."

While I'm on the subject of ESPN (10 seconds of non-US sport mention per hour. On a good day), it also appears to have classed Spelling Bees (for under 14s) as a sport. And show it on TV. Frequently. And without irony. On Saturdays. They should be showing European sports at this time. Arghhhhhhh. (And no, I've still not managed to see any of the Euros.)

What I didn't know I was missing

I've been in Chicago for, ooh, about 10 hours and being here has reminded me of one thing. I love living in the city. I hadn't really noticed in the last week or so, but I love the buzz, the people, the grotty corner shops. Just the buzz.

Of course, that may be because I've been living in a hotel community on the edge of a major highway, and not within miles of a proper town. We shall have to see how it goes when I actually do find a place to live. In the meantime, I shall enjoy being back in a big place!

By god Sears Tower is an ugly lump of soulless crap. I'm sure the views are great, though...

It's like a foreign country out here

Now I'm not one to make sweeping generalisations. Except, of course, when I'm talking about other people. But, by God this place needs some things sorting out.

Socks. It's not a difficult concept. If you are wearing shoes, you wear socks. Not wearing socks in this situation is disgusting. Especially when the only shoes you wear are trainers. Here's a simple equation for you: trainers + no socks = ugh. Rule 2 is also quite simple; unless you are actively participating in a sporting event, do not wear white sports socks. See. Simple. Finally, if you are wearing sandals, don't wear any socks.

Also, being earnest. There's nothing wrong with supporting your troops for Memorial Day. A little militaristic, perhaps, but the cannon fodder do not choose who and where they fight. But don't mistake patriotism for militarism. If the only way you can support your country is by supporting the bombing of a less-developed nation, you have a problem. But hey, if you don't watch Fox News, you can find people questioning the Iraq war...

But that's not the most worrying earnest item I need to bring to your attention. No. That honour belongs to a jaw droppingly, outrageously shocking advert. The deep, silky smooth voice-over begins by telling us of all the problems in the world - not that you'd realise that there was an outside world from watching the news or sport on TV here (or reading the papers. Or listening to the radio). It then goes on to tell us how we all put these ill feelings aside for two weeks to celebrate - guess what? - the Olympics.

Oh yes. In Iraq and Afghanistan, soldiers and insurgents will lay down their arms and spontaneously start a game of football. And Mugabe will realise what a cock he's been and resign; and China will pull out of Tibet. Ah yes, China. The beacon of humanitarian enlightenment, where the cash-grabbing IOC have decided to hold their quadrennial orgy of corporate-sponsored overconsumption, performance-enhancing drug stories and mockery of decency. But none of this matters, because for two weeks, Visa tells us, we can ignore all that is hateful in the world because a few steroid-pumped freaks are running around a track built on the blood of the workers.

And the shameful slogan for this demand for ignorance? Go World.

I'm going to go and have a beer before my anger gland explodes and destroys central New Jersey. Go World!

Number of orange jumpsuits being worn? ZERO.

Ha. I'm in. Although without internet access in my hotel, so you'll have to be patient for proper updates (i.e. until I get to work). Suffice to say, I have a gun and a pick up and live in a trailer.

I have none of these things.