okay, okay, okay. Get off! I have been out of town and thus am remiss in putting in my take on the brilliant win by FC Barcelona in the UEFA final last Wednesday. It was a love-lee day for the blue and red and Man U, not so much. Failed to respond to the Spanish ass kicking delivered systematically, swiftly and surely after Eto'o drilled one in 10 minutes into the game. Failed to show up to the search and destroy party hosted by the boys from Barcelona. Failed to even be worthy after FCB routed them and left them with no response at all at the end of 90 minutes of training manual soccer: You Too Can Win Even If Yore Defense Has A Few (Large) Holes In It. The only pain in two hours was my boy Wayne Rooney's confusion and bewilderment. God, I used to love to watch him play and reveled in his Annihilator performance at the World Cup 2006 in Germany on behalf of The Queen's England. But on Wednesday last, Puyol dismantled that man and left in his place a little, babbling man to do a Wayne Rooney-size job. It was so sad. Even Prince William looked embarrassed and impatient shaking his hand in the medal ceremony. Awkward.
My boy Thierry Henry looked ...okay. What! He's been sorting out an injury! And I must admit that Lionel Messi can bring it anyway you want it. Warrior,that. Him. Whatever. Here's the NYT's take on it. Loved it. Hey, did you realize the World Cup is next summer?!
The 'Kan EWA