How many of these are you guilty of?

Special mention to numbers 5, 6, 7, 13, 14, 15, 18 and I’ve been meaning to hit 4 for a long time.

“I want to go and give you a man hug.”  Happy New Year; enjoy the gift that keeps on giving.

Tags: Ibrahimovic

Two weeks, six days, and a dozen hours.  That’s approximately how long it’s taken me to regain full function of my bodily fluids since it happened.  It.  The incident.  The magical culmination of individual skill and transcendent  fanfaronade, which can only be described as Ibracadabra.  Watching Zlatan Ibrahimovic dismantle England in their November 14 friendly (Note from the editor: Sweden also played with Zlatan) was one of the finest moments of my lifelong love affair with the beautiful game.  No hyperbole, no joke.

If you’ve followed my manic gibberish at all, you’re well acquainted with my habitual worship at the temple of Zlatan.  He’s never played for my team, nor do I have any meaningful attachment to Swedish football.  But there’s not a player I’d rather cheer for or pay money to see.  His masterful goals, inventive guile, and violent outbursts of attitude are pure entertainment.  Whenever he steps onto the pitch, you don’t know exactly what he’s gonna do, but boy, does he always do it.  Just as likely to backheel a late winner as he is to kick his own teammate in the head, Zlatan is a throwback to flawed geniuses like Gazza or Maradona.  If he wasn’t so polarizing, would we watch?  Would everybody have an opinion about Ibra as they do?

No, we watch Zlatan because he makes us feel.  Something; anything.  Joy, jealousy, contempt — it doesn’t matter.  You can’t watch him ply his trade and not be moved.  That’s why I revel in Zlatan.  Just as we want to see Messi shatter scoring records and see England win a World Cup, we just want to see Zlatan.  Period.  We want to embrace the inevitable causality of his displays while we can, because they are the images that we remember when our hair becomes as white as Alan Pardew‘s.

You will never forget where you were when this happened:

Scoring a serious contender for greatest goal of all time, Zlatan shoved the proverbial cherry right atop his sweet sundae of stunning strikes.  Perching it on the shoulders of an already commendable hat-trick against his biggest critics, the English, was near sublime.  What a moment in a career fashioned by so many instances of the outlandish.  As Zlatan has aged, he has never ceased in finding new ways to simultaneously score and entertain.  In honor of his latest triumph, I hereby declare this a celebration.  But not just any celebration, a Madonna Celebration.

What I imagine must have fathered Ibra

For those who don’t know, Celebration was the apropos title of Madonna’s 2009 compilation album.  It’s a double-disc effort containing 36 tracks that span an awesome catalog of sugary hit-making.  But it’s more than that.  Celebration travels through space and time to remind your ears that pop music is not a crime, nor is it capable of stasis.  What The Immaculate Collection is to a greatest hits album, Celebration is to the actual birth of Mary, mother of Jesus.  (And possible Zlatan?).

And so, it is only natural that two miracles of epic proportions deserve each other.  Zlatan Ibrahimovic and the best of Madonna.  With the following list, I have loosely ranked Zlatan’s Top Ten Goals, and paired each with an appropriate hit from the Madonna anthology.  (I know, it’s hard being this awesome sometimes).  Obviously, his latest masterpiece against England supersedes the list, as even her Madgesty might struggle to produce a song worthy of THAT goal.  Two quick notes — 1) I’ve linked the song titles to the corresponding music videos for your pleasure 2) making selections from IbraDonna is like picking your favorite child; unless you have a redheaded step-child it is EXTREMELY difficult cutting some worthy contenders.  Which goals / Madonna tunes do you think I’ve hastily (and obviously) omitted?

*****

10. Barcelona v Real Madrid, 2009 La Liga

Like a Prayer. –  Have you ever dated someone that you know is totally wrong for you, but you stick around because of those fleeting moments of beauty between you?  So went the Ibrahimovic experiment at Barcelona.  After the rise and fall of Ronaldinho, the Catalan club always belonged to Leo Messi.  His precious.  And rightfully so, as he just might be the greatest ever.  So perhaps it is no surprise that moving him out of his favored position to play Zlatan would never, ever work in the long term.  Because, as we know about Ibra, to be effective he must have a stronger gravitational pull than Jupiter in whatever side he plays in.  Top Dog.  Numero Uno.  And to his credit, up until December, Zlatan outplayed Messi in his own Barcelona team.  When the Swede got injured, Messi returned to his preferred role and the rest was history.  But that doesn’t mean that there weren’t moments when everything felt oh so right.

As a song, “Like a Prayer” might be Madonna’s finest.  The cherubic choral backing, the bewitching lyrics, the pathos in Madonna’s own vocals; they all weave together in an awesome tapestry of pop.  It’s just a beautiful song, if you can enjoy it as such.  But can anybody think of the song without the accompanying controversial video?  It paraded blasphemy near Westboro Baptist levels (take your pick from sexual attraction to Jesus to burning crosses to Madonna attending church in barely more than her bra), police prejudice, a pleasant scene of attempted gang rape, and pretty stereotypical token black people.  But if you can block all that out for just a moment, you will experience an ecstasy akin to watching Ibra’s take against Madrid.  His first Clasico, with all the world watching, Zlatan sidefoot volleys with his “weaker” foot into the top corner with the type power usually reserved for high caliber rifles.  Everything else about Ibra at Barcelona may have been wrong, but for only a second his remarkable grace turned atheists into believers.

9. AC Milan v Lecce, 2011 Serie A

La Isla Bonita. –  I struggled mightily to find an appropriate song for this long range strike.  So, I cycled through a few of the classics as I watched and re-watched the goal.  When the video for “La Isla Bonita” finally synched up, the parallels were alarmingly striking.  Check these out.  Both Zlatan and Madonna sport white and red uh, costumes.  Both feature a supporting cast composed primarily of Latin men.  Both feature a grumpy Italian man frowning in a stadium (okay, I guess that was just for the Lecce goal).  And both end with an impassioned group celebration.  But there’s still a deeper connection.  In the music video, Madonna plays a pious simpleton who fantasizes of another life as a sultry Latina princess.  A good girl yearning to be free of the shackles of her culture’s austerity.  This duality of character is encapsulated magnificently in the Zlatan goal.  I don’t know what you’d call it, because it’s a pacey blast from distance, but it also seems to float in the air ever so softly before glancing into the side netting.  There are plenty of Ibra goals that showcase the different facets to his game, but never have I seen a goal that manages to exhibit both power and delicacy at the same time.  Much like the rhythmic, nay, hypnotic beat of “La Isla Bonita,” the goalkeeper appears frozen in a different dimension, a daydream, as he flaps helplessly at the ball drifting by like a brisk tropical breeze.

8. Sweden v France, EURO 2012

Music. –  Remember me?  That’s what Zlatan seemed to be saying to perennial Seria A defender Philippe Mexes as he treated the Frenchman like a dummy, volleying a superb strike for Sweden in EURO 2012.  Mexes was always relegated to the position of Lucky Pierre between Ibra and the back of the net, the inevitable conclusion of Zlatan meeting ball.  It was a game that meant nothing for Sweden, as they were already eliminated from the tournament, save for the matter of pride.  National pride, sure, but also on a personal level for Mr. Ibrahimovic.  In a world of ruthless finishers, Ronaldos and Messis alike, some started to note the decline of our vaudevillian Swedish striker.  Scoring statistics of quantity, rather than quality, had grown more fashionable to the community of footballing elites.  So there was an undeniably retro aura as Zlatan bagged this stunner.  Timing his run into the box perfectly, having the patience to wait for the cross to drift down, followed by acrobatically firing a volley into the far corner.  A typical howdidhedothat effort from the Swede, like so many he has spoiled us with over the years.

If Zlatan reinvigorated his status as one of the greats in a single moment, Madonna brought sexy back with her 2000 single “Music.”  See, the ’90s had been a difficult transition for old lady Madge.  At the outset of the decade she was still very much an “It Girl.”  By the millennium, she was 42, a mother with another bun in the oven, and had grown through some weird musical phases that made her music a more suitable soundtrack to soccer moms than promiscuous teens.  “Music” changed all that, by recklessly abandoning an age-appropriate image to reinvent Madonna as a sex object.  The consummate party track, “Music” could perhaps be considered the defining song of the musical year (although the “Thong Song” and “Bye Bye Bye” are also in with great groans shouts).  Lighthearted and electronic, everything about the song was (and still is) fun.  Highlights of the music video include Madonna dressed like a well-funded call girl, Ali G driving her in a limo, a completely necessary strip club scene, and a bizarre karate cartoon sequence.  Actually, those aren’t highlights, that’s pretty much it.  Regardless, we had our old wanton Madonna back!

7. Inter v Atalanta, 2009 Serie A

Express Yourself.  –  There is no comparison between the video for “Express Yourself” and Zlatan’s goal against Atalanta, nor is there a significant similarity in the careers of the two superstars in this particular instance.  The likeness here is purely lyrical.  Listen to the words of Madonna:  “Don’t go for second best baby / Put your love to the test” and later “Second best is never enough.”  Now a little back story to the goal:  this was the final game of the 2008-2009 Serie A season, and Ibrahimovic was currently tied for the top goalscorer in the league.  But Ibra simply refused to come second and he proved himself equal to the challenge.  Sound familiar?  Another lyric: “So if you want it right now, make him show you how / Express what he’s got oh baby ready or not / Express yourself.”  Now watch the goal again.  Everything about it was purely improvisational.  From the trap away from the first defender to the shove on the body of the second (so flagrant) to the unexpected backheel; every single ounce of the effort was down to individual expression by the Swede.  And finally: “You deserve the best in life / So if the time isn’t right then move on.”  Inter had already clinched the title, and for the fans this thrilling comeback win was the icing on the cake for a highly decorated season.  But only known to Zlatan was that it would be his final game, his final goal for the club before moving to Barca that summer.  And what a parting gift it was — giving Inter the very best before moving on.

6. Inter v CSKA Moscow, 2007 Champions League

Into the Groove. –  There comes a point in the career of any superstar when he or she decides to do just whatever he or she wants.   In 1985, Madonna decided she was gonna make a movie.  Most people might be deterred by their utter lack of acting proficiency, but not Madonna.  And so she birthed the horrific Desperately Seeking Susan.  Needing an accompanying song and video, the world got “Into the Groove.”  Of all the eccentric and confident songs recorded in the 1980s, none captured the musical quintessence and faddism of the decade moreso than this track.  “Into the Groove” injected its lucky listeners with a heavy dose of synth bassline and a nightclub vibe; as well as a message of sexual escapism via the dance floor.  The lazy video (basically scenes from the film) bombarded the viewers with wavy highlighted hair, pearl jewelry, messy layers of cut-up clothes,  and no fewer than 483 pieces of superfluous accessories.  On principle, “Into the Groove” should be an abysmal song.  But it’s not.  It’s bloody enjoyable.  You can throw it on any iPod playlist and it wouldn’t be inappropriate or unwelcome.  Give it a try.

Zlatan Ibrahimovic’s Desperately Seeking Susan moment came while playing against CSKA Moscow in the Champions League (see 1:48 in the above video).  Few of Zlatan’s other goals throughout his career quite capture everything to his game as this one.  With his back to goal, he receives a pass, pirouettes away from two defenders, then rips a laser from outside the box.  Not just any bullet, but an outswinging swerver to the top corner.  Dribbling prowess, vision, anticipation, power, technique, and confidence– this goal showcased the entirety of his unique talents.  Ibra pretty much did whatever he wanted short of film a crappy rom-com and shoot a music video.  After scoring, he opens his arms in celebration, not to hug his teammates, but for his teammates, the San Siro, and the world to embrace him for what he is.  In recent years Madonna has called “Into the Groove” a “dorky” song that she “feel[s] retarded singing.”  And there may come a day in the future when Ibra’s goal against Moscow seems silly and outdated, but that day is not today.  No sir.

5. Ajax v AZ Alkmaar, 2004 Eredivisie

Cherish. — By the end of the ’80s, it was safe to say that Madonna had become the type of rebelliously slutty pop icon that all fathers feared their daughters would try to emulate; which, of course, many did.  That makes 1989′s “Cherish” all the more perplexing for a single from the First Lady of Pop.  It’s just so… wholesome!  A cute, doo-wop style melody backs lyrics about puppy love from simpler, more innocent times.  And in the video Madonna takes a rare departure from “whore-chic,” appearing almost younger and more natural than her previous stylings.  Sure, her clothes get a little wet frolicking on the beach, but wait, look at that!  Whales!  A little mermaid!  Gratuitous female bicep flexing!  Honestly, the first time you heard this song, did you even know it was Madonna?  Which is why it’s the perfect match for Zlatan’s bicycle kick against Alkmaar.  Sure, it was the first of many acrobatic efforts for the big Swede, but this was somehow less obscene and bombastic compared to the others in his collection.  It helps that Zlatan was indeed younger (and had hair of exactly the same proportions as Madonna’s in “Cherish”), but that’s not quite it.  See, our boy Ibra has never been one to shortchange himself in the aggression department; more often than not, it is he who employs his physicality to turn defenders into his prey.  But in this goal, he‘s actually being fouled, mugged and tugged to the ground by his defender.  All Zlatan can do is improvise, turning disaster into sheer brilliance.  It’s not often the bad boy can turn into faultless victim, a harlot into the girl next door, but when it does, you should cherish the moment.

4.  Inter v Bologna, 2008 Serie A

Vogue. — The intro to “Vogue” conveys a brief calmness from the outset, then some bass and percussion creep in, perhaps dropping some hint about what’s to come, then boom!  The music is playing and you’re dancing.  How the hell did that even happen?  Well, Zlatan’s goal against Bologna was kinda like that.  Adriano is mindlessly dribbling in the corner as everybody else stands around twiddling their rigatoni, then he whips a hasty cross into the box, and before you can start thinking of how an opportunity might develop Ibra is celebrating.  Backheeling a heavy cross at chest height, near post?  Unheard of, unexplainable.  It’s like someone actually gifting you Frankincense — where are you even supposed to put that hot holy mess?

Zlatan’s over-the-top flamboyance is only rivaled by that of “Vogue.”  The choreography and pageantry reach a surreal level of dizzying heights.  The actual spastic movement of voguing is as ridiculous as Ibra’s audacious display of flexibility.  Even for a dance record, even for Zlatan Ibrahimovic, this is escapism beyond the normal scope of imagination.  Superlative stuff; the type of things “the kids” everywhere want to try at home.  My favorite comparison?  Both videos have serious-looking men in suits that seem unimpressed (like, McKayla Maroney status) by the awesomeness they’re witnessing.  Look at Jose Mourinho standing unemotionally, as if Zlatan just delivered his newspaper.  Strike a pose?

3. Juventus v Benfica, 2005 Friendly

Burning Up. –  It wasn’t her first single nor was it her first number one.  When people list the many hits of Madonna, it’s never one of the first mentions.  But it would be wrong to say her second single, “Burning Up,” isn’t one of Madonna’s most memorable tracks.  Its sound is so distinct, it protrudes like a broken bone from the rest of her collection until it’s impossible to ignore it.  Except there’s nothing broken about this song.  It merely went a place Madonna never dared to venture again.  A hearty serving of electric guitar and visceral lyrics (“But you don’t even know I’m alive / And this pounding in my heart just won’t die”) invokes an edgier quality to “Burning Up.”  The video also dabbled in the politics of power.  For example, Madonna spends a good amount of time writhing around in chains, then gets absolutely trucked by a speeding car during the finale, only to reveal that it was she (rather than her lover) who was driving the deathmobile.  Deep down, I think we have all wanted to see Madonna on the wrong side of a hit and run at some point in our lives.  Fingers crossed.

If you could translate high speed vehicular manslaughter into a goal, it would look something like this Zlatan thunderbolt.  It came pretty early in his career (a la “Burning Up”), and in something of a meaningless preseason friendly.  But what it lacked in importance, it compensated for with nonconformity.  In danger of being typecast as a showpony, a mere jester of footwork and alchemy, Ibrahimovic dusted off his Fender and unleashed the type of riff that would make Hendrix or Seedorf blush.  In front of Ronald Koeman too, his old manager, as if to say, “Oh yeah, I do this now too.  It’s a thing now.”  So maybe it’s arguably atypical of Zlatan’s famous body of work, getting lost in his many dazzling moments of  skilled craftsmanship.  But it remains imprinted in everyone’s memory of Zlatan; an “oh yeah, THAT goal” that cannot be unseen.  And it was an ever so subtle harbinger of the things to come from Zlatan, a fountain of power buried underneath his massive bag of tricks, massive ego, and massive nose.

2. Sweden v Italy, EURO 2004

Like a Virgin. — Too easy.  In the beginning of the iconic video, Madonna gingerly explores Venice as a lion simultaneously stalks the streets (presumably to devour small Italian children).  This blatant imagery coupled with the lyrics (regardless of the unsettling Reservoir Dogs analysis) about feeling a love as if it were the first time — could not be any more applicable to Zlatan’s masterclass in EURO 2004.  An upstart in the Dutch League, Ibra was still an unknown quantity at this point in his career.  Sure, he’d drawn attention with his performances at Ajax, but this was his coming out party.  Sweden desperately needed a late equalizer to leapfrog Italy into pole position for the knockout rounds of the tournament, and Zlatan only goes and delivers a goal that seemed to defy physics.  Then in the summer moves to Italy, no less, and becomes the crown prince of Serie A.  It was his, “Hello, world” moment.  Much in the same way “Like a Virgin” turned a starlet into a superstar, cementing both popularity and a defining style, the backheel dagger for Sweden anointed Zlatan as one of the chosen ones of our game.

1. Ajax v NAC Breda, 2004 Eredivisie

Justify My Love. –  This is it.  We’ve reached the summit.  There is no other goal that encompasses the essence of Zlatan quite like his majestic solo effort against Breda.  Embarrassing opponents, relegating teammates to bystanders, overconfidence, misdirection, ingenuity– it’s all there.  From the time he receives the pass until the ball crosses the line, I count 10 full seconds of Zlatan dribbling (basically the same time as Maradona’s against England), 7 feints, 6 defenders beaten, at least 4 scorned opportunities to pass, and 4,387 Dutch curse words muttered (probably).  This fabulous goal is about his legend and nothing else.  Hardly Zlatan’s most important, this effort’s worth is purely aesthetic, which is what appreciation of Ibrahimovic is all about.  Watching this goal is like watching a savant carve his way through his own imagined backyard match.  Indeed, you get the feeling that Zlatan, and only Zlatan, has previously envisioned this type of masterpiece in his head, and he’s really rediscovering a distant daydream rather than forging a new movement.

The Breda goal is so obscene, so self-indulgent, that there can only be one logical Madonna selection.  No matter how old I get, I’ll never feel old enough to watch the video for “Justify My Love.”  Even reviewing it to write this has left me uncomfortable, borderline scarred.  It was originally banned on MTV, and still should be.  Why?  Well, first let me save you the trouble of listening to the song.  Essentially, Madonna whispers a bunch of words that are supposed to be avant-garde and sexy, with a monotone keyboard melody and a drum machine, mixed with some heavy breathing.  Imagine getting a phone call from a sex pervert who’s also a crappy film school drop out.  It’s something like that, it’s just NOT A SONG.  Madonna didn’t even try to make it musical, she just wanted an excuse to strip down and perpetuate her sexual deviance.  The accompanying video then is as controversial as you’d expect, complete with seduction, androgyny, lingerie, voyeurs, etc.  I’m pretty sure the ancestor of Slender Man is in there too.  Looking at Zlatan’s goal, his silky movement captured in the grainy footage, evokes the same explicit imagery as Madonna’s adult noir.  If the Ibrahimovic goal is soccer-porn, “Justify My Love” is just regular porn.  Or maybe vice versa?

Finally, from the great man himself:  “In 2004, I was at Ajax and Juve were about to sign me. [Rafael] Van der Vaart wasn’t speaking to me because he said I injured him in training on purpose.  I didn’t.  When I entered the pitch for the game against Breda, the Ajax fans whistled me as they supported Van der Vaart. He was injured and could not play.  I did play, scored twice and made four assists.  For one of the goals, I received the ball with 
a defender on my back.  Another tried to challenge me but I kept the ball from both.  Then I turned and saw the goal.  I was going towards the goal dribbling past players – bam, bam, bam – as 
I searched for a moment to shoot.  It did not come so I kept on going past different players.  Then I was past the goalkeeper.  I decided to go backwards to get a better angle to score.  
I went past the same player again.  I used to play with him, but didn’t realise it.  He said to me: ‘Zlatan, I thought we were friends.’  I apologised because 
I didn’t realise it was a former team-mate.  It was my best goal.  Van der Vaart?  His reaction was his problem.  I did not care. The next day I signed for Juve.”

*****

Hope you’ve enjoyed this mystical voyage of Ibracissism.  If you still want more Zlatan, check out this little piece written following his destruction of England.

The Clive Owen voice seals it for me.  Great work, guys.

Interesting little piece on the alleged referring bias toward Manchester United.  Check it out here.

Surely the FA is too incompetent to engineer any sort of ongoing conspiracy?  However, even the most loyal United fan wouldn’t deny Alex Ferguson’s reputation as a bully who uses the media to try to influence decisions.  But where do you draw the line between a manager’s mind games and unethical competitive advantage?

Of course, while we debate refereeing, David Gill (yes, the CEO of Man United who’s been at the club 15 years) carries on as vice-chairman of THE FOOTBALL LEAGUE!  I’d happily award the Paragraph d’Or to anyone who can explain how that is not a conflict of interest.

…Leo Messi demanded to be sold from Barcelona.  What if he went to a club in a different country that was barely fighting off relegation… in a league already dominated by the status quo?  Say Messi transfers to Wigan Athletic.  Then goes on to win the Premiership twice, the Europa League, and the FA Cup… with Wigan!  Oh, and Messi also does for cocaine what Lance Armstrong did for PEDs, fraternizes with the mob, and makes boldly divisive statements regarding English regionalism.  (Basically, he becomes the anti-Messi off the pitch).  Would you think more or less of Messi than if he stayed at Barca slaughtering teams?  Would you not be entertained?

Numbers are numbers, but legends are legendary.  And while the record breaker continues to make history, I just wanted to give you a friendly reminder that there is still another.  Thoughts?

Tags: Maradona, Messi, Napoli

“The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed.”

No, that’s not the setup to a chavtastic Suarez/Evra joke (bummer?), but the iconic opening line from Stephen King’s Magnum Opus, The Gunslinger.  It’s one of those hooks that reels you in with a sort of tenacity unseen since Scorpion from Mortal Kombat.  It’s simple yet brilliant.  It pretty much captures the feeling of every Premier League fan on the eve of our new season.

This Saturday the campaign kicks off, hopefully picking up where the last one left off, which was approximately on the edge of a cliff in the middle of a tornado on the back of a lightning bolt.  Imagine the first time you saw a picture of a cat on the interwebz, then multiply it by Gandalf and throw in a few Cruyff turns, and you understand the sort of epicness we’re dealing with here.  Fergie’s “You bred raptors!?” look as Aguero stunned his side, City fans celebrating with shamelessness that would make Chris Bosh uncomfortable, mighty Man United disappearing into exile to lick their wounds, Roberto Mancini vindicating his poofy haircut and scarf — we had it all.  Why not have it all again?

Oh yeah.  There were just a couple things separating last season from this one:  EURO 2012 and the Olympics.  If you missed any of the Euros, feel free to peruse the site since I LIVE-CHATTED EVERY SINGLE MATCH!  Seriously, I did EURO 2012 to death.  We laughed and cried together, she broke my heart a little, and now I’m ready to move on with my life.  In fact, I basically did a runner as soon as Spain lifted the trophy.  See, Olympic soccer is like the summer reading you get assigned in high school.  It doesn’t require a ton of your time and some of the stories sound genuinely interesting, but after finals you’re so burned out that you never end up checking them out.  That’s right, I just called out every single person in the world for neglecting their summer reading (I Know What You Didn’t Do Last Summer?).  But I did manage to squeeze a few minutes of Olympic action onto my plate, and I’ve thrown my thoughts into an abridged section with a killer, witty name.

What I Learned from the Olympics

• Neymar is the truth.  So many times with these Brazilian wonderkids it’s like summoning Bloody Mary trying to get them to show up when you finally have a chance to watch them.  Neymar was already looking at us in the mirror when we walked into the bathroom (super creepy imagery — befitting of a man that adorns his nose with the most awkward apparatus ever).  Sure, he had to settle for a Silver Medal, but he proved that his talents are very much real and as special as they’ve been hyped.  I’m not denying the huge risk it will be for a European club to claim him, but the ceiling on this kid is in the Ronaldosphere.
  

  Someone get Ballack's stylist on the scene!

• The English FA at some point made a pact with the devil.  Maybe it was for the 1966 World Cup, maybe it was in the 1990s for all the popularity and revenue of the Premier League, maybe it was for Beckham’s hair, but for England/Britain to continually torture themselves with penalty shootout heartbreaks, well, I’m pretty sure Satan is quarterbacking that thing.
• Carli Lloyd has been the most important player for the US Women’s Team for the last couple years now.  Her goals in the Final merely cement that fact, and earn her some long overdue recognition.  Hope Solo makes headlines with quotes, Abby Wambach with beast mode, and Alex Morgan with a goal/hearthrob combo.  But it’s Lloyd who runs the show with intelligence and grace, setting tables and throwing shapes.  Not unlike a boss.  Also, props for a hearty challenge for the title of “Summer 2012′s Most Popular Carli,” which seemed all but locked up a month ago.
• Gaston Ramirez — What are you?  Are you supposed to be a midfielder or a winger?  Are you good or overrated?  I still can’t tell.  In fact, the whole Uruguayan performance was confusing.  What?
• Despite winning it all, there isn’t a single player from the Mexican team I have tagged for immediate superstardom.  The strength of their results came on the back of composed defensive play, which is about as Mexican as Pork Lo Mein.  Great team effort, but not many little peas ready for being plucked by the European status quo.  Not yet.

*****

Of course, no new league campaign would be ready for launch without the off-season jockeying.  So far it’s been more bark than bite, but that usually just means we’ll get a flurry of chips splashing the pot right before the transfer window shuts.  [EDITOR'S NOTE:  This was written before Arsenal agreed to sell RVP to Man United].  Naturally, I still have some snarky Off-Season Awards to hand out to some well deserving winners.

Quiet Game Champion: Carlos Tevez.  When we were children, we used to play something called the Quiet Game just get the obnoxious kid in our class to shut the hell up.  Basically, we sacrificed our own affinity for any conversation to get said child to keep his mouth closed.  It was like a reverse psychology filibuster — very much ahead of its time.  Congrats to Tevez who manged to go an entire 3 months without making a sound about his future.  We needed that.  Runner-up goes to Robin van Persie, who has actually kept his class intact despite being bid for like the sex traffickers in the penultimate scene in Taken.  [Minus 50 points for going directly to a rival of Arsenal, but at least he didn't whinge about it all summer].

Most Dedicated to Keeping One Token Asian in the Squad: Manchester United.  If you ship out Ji-Sung Park and bring in Shinji Kagawa, does the tree make a sound?  Oh, and if you’re a lonely male age 18-100, do a search on Kagawa’s girlfriend.  Imagine the possibilities for locker room banter.

Worst Opinion on Football: Usain Bolt.  First of all, just because you’re faster than a cheetah in a Fiat, that doesn’t mean you can walk into one of the best football teams in the world.  Doesn’t work that way.  But more importantly, Ronaldo isn’t better than Messi.  He’s just cockier.  And I think I’m starting to hate you for trying to make “Ronaldo v Messi” a thing again.  Stop trying to make “fetch” happen!

Laziest Scouting Departments: PSG and Tottenham.  Here’s how they scout.  Wait until the rumors circulate about who Man United and Liverpool want to buy.  Go buy them first with more money.  Simples.

Most Played Out Phrase:  Tiki-Taka.  Tiki-taka is to football what YOLO is to mankind.  So, once it’s universally accepted as worthless I’ll try to bring it out to hurt people’s brains.

Living on a Lifeboat Excludees: Joe Cole, Bebe, Marouane Chamakh, John Obi Mikel, Roque Santa Cruz, David Bentley, Alberto Aquilani.  Congratulations, guys!  The world would be a much better place if you never existed at all.  Okay, that’s a little harsh, but your Premier League teams certainly dream of the day they no longer have to employ you and your wages.

Most Likely to Have Been Built by Geppetto: Joe Allen.  So Liverpool’s summer signing is a midget with an enormous nose, but somehow I’m the bad guy for pointing out the elephant in the room?

Raspberry Beret Award for Cleverness:  Eden Hazard.   There’s a terrific lyric in Prince’s cult classic that goes “She wasn’t too bright/But I could tell when she kissed me/ She knew how to get her kicks.”  This pretty much sums up Hazard, who made himself out to be a bit of a bellend this summer with his Lebron-esque antics (understatement, no?).  But boy can he get his kicks.  Hazard is built for one thing, and that’s fashioning goals on the pitch.

*****

2012/2013 Predictions

Champions – Manchester City

Last year, City had to claw their way to glory on judgement day, a marvelous achievement for a perennially disappointing club.  This time, I see them doing the proverbial electric slide to the finish line.  They’ve lost nothing from last season, but haven’t won enough to be complacent yet.  Also, I think the EUROs were huge for Mario Balotelli’s confidence (poor guy really needed an ego boost).  I’m expecting less Mario Clownpants and more Mario Bossypants now.  Also, Mancini should have a better grasp in how to rest Silva to prolong his shelf life.  No rebuilding for City, just reloading.

Runners-up — Chelsea

Chelsea in “spend silly money” shocker, right?  Well, the European Champs have been busy beavers this summer, most notably recruiting Eden Hazard, Oscar, and Marko Marin.  (And by recruiting, I mean inviting players to dive into Abramovich’s pool of money like Uncle Scrooge from Ducktails).  But they’ve been excellent signings as far as talent goes.  Unfortunately, I think Drogba hasn’t been effectively replaced by the Torres/Sturridge partnership, and that will prove the difference between toppling City and chasing them.

3rd Place — Manchester United

Kagawa has been excellent for Dortmund and I expect him to do well in a United shirt…. That’s about the extent of my positivity for the Red Devils this year.  After having their hearts ripped out at the death, how will they respond?  And while Fergie stockpiles wide boys, his central midfield gets thinner every year.  Scholes (and Giggs) are fighting Father Time, Fletcher’s health is unfortunate, and Anderson has never become the player he was billed as.  Any knock to Carrick or Cleverly will put United in dire straits.  That said, they’re still United so by decree of the FA they will grind out results and finish in the top 3.  [Okay, obviously the RVP signing is huge, but what are the chances he plays out of his mind AND stays injury free like last year?  There's a term for people who predict injury on someone and it rhymes with "trucking tanker," but I just don't see him making it to May unscathed.  Sorry].

4th Place — Arsenal

I was really looking for a way to justify Liverpool getting 4th, but I can’t do it.  Not yet.  (If they somehow pull off Nuri Sahin, Clint Dempsey, and Cristian Tello, I’ll edit this to sneak Liverpool in 4th).  Leave it to Wenger, whose superstar striker is on the menu of  every big European club [like, uh, United], to go and have himself a prodigious transfer window.  Giroud, Podolski, and Cazorla leave the Gunners in capable hands as RVP jets.  A maturing Oxlade-Chamberlain and the return of Wilshere to fitness will prove to be keys to a top 4 finish.  The voyeur does it again folks!

Don’t Get Too Attached, Because… – Southampton, West Brom, QPR.

I was hoping to squeeze Aston Villa into the relegation zone with some “Too Big to Fail” jokes, but I think they’ll be safe this season.  To my displeasure, I’ve had to select Southampton for extinction.  I enjoy having the Saints in the top flight, perhaps irrationally optimistic for Le Tissier mock 2, but they’ve punched above their weight to get back, and I think it’ll be a quick return to the Championship for the southerners.  Queens Park Rangers held onto the Premier League with their fingernails last year, and I’m doubting they can do it again.  21 losses and -23 goal difference is hard to just turn around with confidence; the Londoners are going down.  And West Brom?  I’ll be celebrating their demise should it come to fruition.  Mid-table Master Hodgson had them finish 10th last season, but he’s got the England job now and I’m praying for a rapid fall from grace for the Baggies.

*****

20 Players to Watch

Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain, Arsenal:  Breakout season predicted by many for the young Englishman.  Looks like Arsene Wenger is ready to give him the golden ticket.  Nobody is doubting his nickname, The Ox, but often youth is a double edged sword.  Is there anybody who loves kids more than Wenger, the perpetual tickle monster?

Ron Vlaar, Aston Villa:  The Feyenoord stalwart will make his Premiership debut for a team that desperately needs him to hit the ground running.  No pressure, Ronny, just go out and make sure nobody scores on your team, kthxbai.

Just Vlaar, baby.

Eden Hazard, Chelsea:  When you pay so much money for someone entering his peak, you expect instant greatness.  And before you start saying “he cost the same as Andy Carroll,” he doesn’t.  He’s on about £250k a week, or 3 times the wages of one A.C.  Feel poor yet?

Nikica Jelavic, Everton:  The Croatian striker with a West Hollywood haircut was talismanic for the Toffees last year.  Can he pick up where he left off?

Moussa Dembele, Fulham:  For a couple years I’ve been bigging him up, and while he’s looked sharp, he’s lacked the numbers to make himself a star.  Props to his agent for circulating a rumor that Real Madrid are after him — that takes some doing.  But it’s time to put up or shut up.

Fabio Borini, Liverpool:  The new boy with a dagger between his teeth is on Merseyside for one purpose only — get the ball in the net.  Liverpool were the most wasteful club with created chances last season, so Borini ought to have himself a host of opportunities.  That’s the theory, at least.

David Silva, Man City:  Last year’s uber maestro, can he do it again?  City better hope he does, as they rise and fall with Silva’s waxing and waning form.  And the Spaniard will certainly be a marked man by every British lad with a shaved head in the League.  Keep your eye on him.  He’s like a heartbeat.

Robin van Persie, Man United:  Assuming the deal doesn’t fall through, RVP is as good as Fergie’s.  He was the most lethal man in the League in 20122/2012, can he and Rooney actualize the most mouthwatering FIFA partnership?  Hope the United physio has cleared his schedule!

Cheick Tiote, Newcastle:  Speaking of injury woes, I give you Tiote!  Pound for pound one of the most effective players in England, any sustained challenge from Newcastle for a European spot depends on his fitness.  And how fun is his name to pronounce?  Rolls off your tongue like Limoncello.

Grant Holt, Norwich City:  Because I had to pick someone?  No, the English striker encapsulates everything that is a journeyman footballer.  If you ever want to learn some obscure British geography, take a look at his club career.  That said, he found the net 15 times last year in his first stint in the Prem.

Don't look at his forehead! Too late.

Adel Taarabt, Queens Park Rangers: There were so many options for QPR; quite a dirty dozen ensemble they’ve got going on there.  But for me it’s the Moroccan magician who’s the key for QPR’s hopes this year.  He loves to score a cracker and shows up against the big teams — that’s how you make sure you’re on my list, son!

Pavel Pogrebnyak, Reading:  The Russian striker stunk up EURO2012 but I SWEAR THAT’S NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE, BABY!  If Reading truly is a league of nations (Australia, Wales, England, Turkey, Scotland, Jamaica, Antigua, Ireland, Mali, Latvia, Iceland, Denmark, Grenada) then it only makes sense that the Russian will unite them all at his service.  In Soviet Reading, goals score Pogrebnyak!

Tadanari Lee, Southampton:  A newer signing for the Saints, many are hoping that the former Japanese prodigy is HUGE in the UK.  He signed in January and got injured in March, but his lone goal won the Strike of the Season.  Let’s see it then.

Peter Crouch, Stoke City:  If only because it’s like watching a Daddy Longlegs play with a beachball.  Crouch, like Tadanari Lee, normally gets on the scoresheet with gusto– a rarity for a squad as thuggish as Stoke.

Seb Larsson, Sunderland:  The Swede with the golden peg (and head) is now a fixture for Sunderland.  Every time he lines up a free kick, fix your eyes nowhere but the action.  He’s a gem that shines too brightly to be next to Scotland.

Michel Vorm, Swansea City:  The outstanding goalkeeper last term, his performances perhaps inflated the rave reviews his teammates won with their possession.  If he’s anywhere off his game, Swansea will look like a pack of ponces.

Gylfi Sigurdsson, Tottenham: Well, I’ve got to see what the fuss was all about.  Is he still a goalscorer extraordinaire, or will he be found out in a top side?  Also, if he had a son named Steve, would the child’s name be Steve Gylfisson?  Someone let me know.

Romelu Lukaku, West Brom:  If he is indeed the striking future of Chelsea, certainly he’ll do the business for the Baggies.  A word of advice though, don’t try to be Didier Drogba,  Just be Romelu Lukaku.  You’re welcome, Chelsea fans.

We get it, Kevin. You're superman.

Kevin Nolan, West Ham:  Kevin Nolan, ageless wonder.  As soon as he climbed triumphantly out of his mother’s womb, he immediately was given the captain’s armband.  At his first birthday, he climbed to head his piñata open and Sam Allardyce cried tears of joy.  Hammers fans must love Kevin Nolan.

Antolin Alcaraz, Wigan:  There’s something about the Paraguayan defender that makes him a centerpiece of every Wigan match.  He’s a lightning rod for altercations, goals at either end of the pitch, and just general uproarious activity.  If you’re forced to watch a Wigan match this season, see what I mean.  Tell me I’m not right.

Honorable Mentions: Lukas Podolski, Marc Albrighton, Oscar, Steven Pienaar, Mahamadou Diarra, Luis Suarez, Yaya Toure, David de Gea, Papiss Cisse, James Vaughan, Joey Barton, Danny Guthrie, Kelvin Davis, Robert Huth, Connor Wickham, Leon Britton, Jan Vertonghen, Peter Odemwingie, Alou Diarra, Jean Beausejour.

*****

There are some things that are guaranteed to happen over the course of a Premier League season.  Fouls will be debated… Wenger will conveniently miss incidents… Howard Webb will be accused of favoritism… David Luiz will begin every tweet with #geezers #hellogeezers… Points will be stolen… Bartons will be banned… Posts will be rattled… managers will be sacked… Balotellis will steal headlines… Cats will invade pitches (okay, maybe not every year)…

But there is still so much more to come that none of us can predict.  Can’t wait.  Who knows how the story of the season ends?  Who is this man in black and why is the gunslinger chasing him?  Who will score the goal of the season, blow the biggest lead, or impress out of nowhere?  Couldn’t tell ya.  I’ve made my picks, given my previews, now I get to sit and watch and enjoy the drama as all my bets go down in flames.  Love it.  All I do know is that I couldn’t stand to miss a single minute of the madness, and when it’s all over I hope I live to tell those younger than I of the great Premiership Season of 2012/2013.  And if I sound something like this, even better:

Tags: Premiership, Preview