The Ballad of King Fred (part 1)

Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Palacia, lived King Fred. Officially he was King Frederick II, but to his subjects he was just King Fred. Sometimes, behind his back, people who didn't like him all that much called him Fatty Freddy Fat Fat.
King Fred was not your average, everyday potentate however because he had a special connection to the weather. Some people have jewelry that supposedly changes color to display their mood. You could say that King Fred had a mood sky. When he was happy, the weather was nice and pleasant. The sun was warm, but not hot. There was rain, but not too much. When King Fred was sad, the clouds were low and dark and it drizzled constantly. When he was angry there would be thunderstorms with dangerous hail and lightning, and it would rain so much that it caused floods.
King Fred's subjects liked it when he was in a good mood. They would have picnics and play ball in the park, or go relax on the beach and play in the ocean on those days. On bad mood days they would stay inside or if they absolutely had to go out they would put on their raincoats and grab their umbrellas to go out.

[to be continued . . .]

International Incident Brewing

It is halftime of the US vs. Ghana match, and I am PISSED OFF. It appears that there is a conspiracy among certain referees to prevent the US from going on in the tournament. It began in the last game by a Uruguayan referee who believed that he was what people all over the world were coming to see. It has continued in the current game by a German referree, one Markus Merk, who sees penalties where there are none. Most infamously awarding Ghana a penalty kick in stoppage time of the first half for a LEGAL CHALLENGE by US center back Ugechi Oneywu.

I realize people the world over despise our president and his warmongering policies, I know I do. But the chicanery perpetrated by our president should in no way affect the officiating at games where our national team plays.

Well, my ranting is done, but I'm still mad. Hopefully the second half will quell my offended spirit with a US win in spite of the referree's attempts to insure the opposite.

Why I Love the World Cup

Reason 1:

A tiny country with little recent reason for national pride has the chance (and takes it as often as not) to upset a perennial powerhouse (ex. Senegal vs. France; Ecuador vs. Poland; Trinidad and Tobago vs. Sweden) on the world stage. For a time, citizen's of said tiny country walk tall and proud because of what their team did on the pitch.

Reason 2:

Like the Greek Olympics of ancient times, the World Cup has the power to make peace between warring parties. In the Ivory Coast, a civil war which has raged up til this past weekend has been suspended for the duration of the tournament. Granted this peace is probably only temporary, but it sets the stage for a lasting peace.

I'd like to hear your reasons for liking / loving the World Cup tournament.

Saturday Morning Update

It is now day 2 of the 2006 World Cup and I have watched 3 games. Can life get any better? I submit that it cannot.

6-9-06
I watched legendary Germany defeat a very competitive Costa Rican team 4-2. Prediction Wanchope (Costa Rican forward) becomes a household name the world over by the time his team is out of the tournament.
I watched an out of shape Poland squad get RUN OVER by an energetic Ecuador. It looked like 1939 all over again for the Poles.

6-10-06
This morning England defeated Paraguay 1-0 in a game marked by bad calls and bad football by both squads. Here's hoping the Soca Warriors of Trinidad and Tobago give the Viking Swedes a run for their money today at noon.

That's it from the World Cup so far. 3 more games to watch today. Woo Hoo

Home of the Brave?

Engraved on a bronze plaque on the base of the Statue of Liberty is the poem "The New Colossus" by Emma Lazarus. It reads:

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

With conquering limbs astride from land to land;

Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name

Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand

Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command

The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she

With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Perhaps that door that was once open allowing my ancestors entrance to the land of opportunity is now shut. Perhaps it is only open to those who are white, or have some talent which grants them entrance. If that is the case, then perhaps we should close ol' Lady Liberty down. Either we are what she says we are, or we are not.

In the Army Now?

Tomorrow, at a little after 9pm, I will be talking with a recruiter from the Texas Army National Guard about becoming a chaplain in the Guard.