ACDC Europa Squad: part 3

Saturday evening was supposed to be a pub crawl back to Piccadilly. Graeme had graciously designed the tour, but it immediately ran into trouble as we frantically searched for a pub, which showed the Arsenal v. Newcastle game. Fruitless… as we were definitely in the wrong part of town to be even talking about that game. Think of cheering for the Mets while you’re in the Bronx. Having watched every game Arsenal played this season, it seem like we had to travel to London to miss one. Perhaps irony should go with death and taxes as inevitabilities in life.

As the group improvised from pub to pub, we stumbled unknowingly into a “rainbow” pub. Ironically, it was one of the few that didn’t have “cock” in one form or another in the name. A conversation at the bar ran like this:

Matt to Carlos: “Hey, is that beer any good?”

Carlos to a patron at the bar: “I don’t know. Is that beer any good?” as the bartender pulled another pint.

Patron replied, “I’m just looking at the size of that head.”

Carlos responded, “Yeah... it’s big right?”

At this point, in need of an escape from the awkward situation, Carlos turned to Matt and said, “Sweetie, let’s get back to the guys.”

Running out of there with our poopers fortunately unmolested, we quickly ran into another “worked” by ladies with very different intentions. Yes, Ingrid claimed she is from Paris, but had an Eastern European accent, and didn’t parley any francais. Seeing that five of us didn’t have wedding bands, she quickly disappeared and returned with three friends who were similarly dressed, accented, and unbelievably friendly. She called for back-up! One of them wanted to touch my hand cuz I’m a surgeon. And drunk enough, I let her. It’s fortunate that Clamydia isn’t be transmitted by touch, or else, it’s yet another 3 months of doxycycline for me!

By this point, we have had enough and we decided to crawl back to central London, irrigating the local plant life along the way, singing at the top of our lungs. Our favorites were, in the tune of “La donna e mobile”:

“We’ve got Cesc Fabregas. We’ve got Cesc Fabregas. We’ve got Cesc Fabegras…”

and the standard taunt to the visiting team:

“Who are ya? Who are ya? Who are ya?”

We were like a band of hooligans meandering through the wealthiest sections of London, trying to be drunken belligerents. I think it was at this point that I drunk dialed Jeff to talk about the Sunday AC D.C. game. Drunken belligerents and Jeff somehow just go naturally together.

Sunday started plainly enough. We slept and met up late. The moment that we got together

coincided with the end of the AC D.C. game and Jeff had texted me the good news. We visited the Tower of London to see where people had their heads chopped off, rested, had Indian food, and then, just like a well-designed fireworks display, the finale arrived.

Three bottles of liquor we had purchased duty free simply had to be consumed. So, we pointed Mumbles and Peter in the right direction, and let them at it. Not too long afterwards, Mumbles discovered a geographic anomaly in our room in which he simply couldn’t cope with the strange gravity. First he fell out of the bed, and then he just kept falling down, often violently. I was minutes away from taking him to hospital to pump his stomach, but suddenly, it wasn’t a concern anymore.

And so we have come full circle. You already know the end where everybody passes out in the wrong bed, and I stayed up all night writing this junk. If someone had told me during the first AC D.C. happy hour, when only one person showed up, that I would be involved in this kind of shenanigans, I would have busted up laughing. I had to miss watching one game (Arsenal) and managing another (AC D.C.) to do this trip, so clearly the penguin is quite found our soon-to-be-married goalkeeper. I think the groom, newly anointed KG7 (for King George VII), had a pretty fine time, and that’s what matters most.

ACDC squad Europa: part II

The second installment begins with the arrival in London. After fishing a Mumbles-less Peter out of terminal 4, we all went to check into our separate hotels. With so many visitors new to London, you would think that we would go see Big Ben or Trafalgar Square etc. But despite my best effort to steer them otherwise (uh, see: outright lie), this group chose as their first stop in London the magnificent Emirate Stadium, home of the footballing gods, also known as The Arsenal.

We went to lunch at a pub in Highbury familiar to Jeff and me, called the Famous Cock (hey, I can’t make this stuff up, yo). Although lunch itself was uneventful, the introduction of Carlos to the sparkling cider, Strongbow, marked the downfall of the rest of the day, if not of civilization itself. The energetic Cuban took a liking to the new brew, and had little idea of the potency. Five or six pints of that devilish nectar later, he refused to leave the pubs. And then when he did, George had to chase him down as he stripped off all his street-clothes, heading to the hotel pool full of innocent children. And after the rambunctious giddiness wore off, Georgie had to plead, beg, threaten, and then physically drag him out of bed to attend the dinner meticulously planned by the hitlerific tour manager penguin, Michelin star be damned. Who would have ever thought that George would be the more responsible one of the pair?

The next day was the big game between Manchester United and Fulham FC. Mumbles finally arrived after his adventure at the State Department, and Graeme came north from Hove/Brighton to join his former teammates. Three Man United fans, three neutrals and one decided Man U hater… I dare say that none of 7 expected what we saw.

Most of you watch FSC and follow the EPL in the printed press, so there is little reason for me to describe what has been better recorded by professionals. You know about the Paul Scholes’s handball to block a shot on the line (red card! Captain Whitey excused it as “defender’s instinct”), Rooney’s sending off and the acrobatic bicycle-kick goal by Zoltan Gera subbing in for Clint Dempsey (unquestionably the best goal I’ve witnessed live). But what made the experience truly memorable for me are the tid-bits they don’t report in the news or show on TV. Sitting with the Man United fans, it was at times annyoing. The non-stop singing:

“Champions of England! Champions of Europe! Champions of England! Champions of Europe!” OH GIVE IT A REST!

At other times, however, it was remarkably entertaining to hear the comments in the crowd when the team was playing poorly:

“Aahhh, Darren Fletcher, take ‘im off….f**king waste of space.”

“C’mon Ronaldo. Run, you lazy tw@t!”

The petulant antics of the latter were worth the (scalper’s) price of admission itself. When he gets “taken down” by an “aggressive challenge” (a.k.a a little puff of air), he would roll on the ground, turn to peek whether the ref was watching, and then roll some more. At one point, he hiked up his shorts and pointed out to referee Phil Dowd what I’m sure is a phantom stud mark (a.k.a his beautiful maaahscles) and being sick of his incessant complaining by then, Phil Dowd responded by hiking up his own shorts to return the favor. Hilarious!
After two hours of exhausting cheering, the 7 of us (we could have played in a 5-a-side tournament in London!) went on a pub crawl in southwest London and invented ACDC’s own brand of hooliganism. More on this in episode 3.

Monday Morningish Report: March 23

In classic vintage AC/DC style, we pulled out a tough 1-0 victory. We didn't play our best, but battled through for the result needed.

The game started off rough. We were short players and many there were badly hung over. We were also lacking our fearless leader, leaving me to figure out the lineup. But that day, the fate of the gods smiled upon the black and red. Nicole showed up in the nick of time to control the left flank, hangovers wore off and my tactical brilliance displayed in the 5 aside tournament was in full effect. Sure, the naysayers may wonder why we started the game a man down (thanks for pointing that out Kevin), but trust me, that was all part of a brilliant plan.

We dominated the first half, including a beautiful ball to Parham that was chested in the box and slotted home for the go ahead goal. The 2nd half was a bit rougher with us playing much more defensive and unable to get an insurance goal to put the game out of reach. But as my old papi used to say, "only fools dream of four possom dinners with a tasty squirrel on the plate!" Wise words indeed. While winning by 4-0 would have been nice, I'll take a 1-0 victory everytime. Vae Vicits!

ACDC Europa squad: part I

As some of you know, I planned this weekend as a “bachelor trip” for Georgie and his upcoming wedding. And the idea kept getting bigger and bigger, and ended up as a whole bunch of ACDC players travelling to London for a Man United v. Fulham game this past Saturday. The weekend has finally ended, but with Peter passed out in George’s bed, Carlos asleep in my bed, Georgie annihilated in an empty bed, and Justin Mumbled Peabody comatose in Carlos’ bed, but not before regurgitating much of his stomach lining onto Carlos’ arm, Georgie’s jeans, and the bed itself. That leaves Matt safely asleep where he is supposed to be, and me talking to you.

Mumbles: Just-in time

The narrative has to start somewhere, so let’s just describe how we lost Mumbles. As you are well aware, the man is a mess, on a galactic scale: loses his keys, can't find the directions, late for tournament games. He showed up to the airport with a passport that was so mauled that it didn’t pass inspection. His immediate travel companion, Peter, had to abandon him to get a new passport at the State Department, and the whole group spent 24 hours wondering whether the junior penguin would ever show up before the big game on Saturday.

A mess he may be, but Mumbles is a smart and resourceful guy, and so he made all the right moves and showed up just before game time.  He's usually late for games, but for this London trip, he was at least 24 hours late, but right on time for the game.

Meanwhile, the group of Opus, Whitey, Georgie and Carlos had the time of their life flying on another airline. As we were going through our pre-flight ritual, I noticed a very English and particularly fussy attendant coming up the aisle. I thought I was a good boy, having my blanket neatly draped on me and my seat belt above the blanket so she could see it clearly. She looked at me and said, “Could you please pull the blanket over your shoulder?” I was rather confused at this point, and reached down to my knees and pulled the bottom part of the blanket to my shoulder level. This did not satisfy her, and she grabbed the whole set-up off of my body. Rather amused at this time, I raised my arms over my head in the international sign of “I surrender.” She then flipped the blanket around my back and over my shoulder, so I said innocently but perhaps a bit sarcastically, “Now, I have a cape!” At which point, the giggling coming from across the aisle in the direction of my companions reached a cacophonous level. George leaned over and said to the attendant, whispering, “He is a little slow.”

She replied, “Oh, thank you,” and proceeded to unbuckled my belt to re-do it, and instructed me to put everything, including my fluffy pillow, under the seat. “That too?” I said, all confused. No longer able to hold it together, Matt and Carlos erupted. The latter practically peed his pants. The attendant turned in that direction and said, “Please don’t be rude to the other passengers!”

Georgie, the most mature of the participants this whole weekend, apologized and said, “Oh, he’s with us. We are his friends.” And the attendant went along her way.

The rest of the weekend was filled with hilarity unequaled in AC D.C. history. Since I haven’t slept in 36 hours and still have to clean up Mumbles’ junior penguin gastric mess, I’ll leave the rest for later. Now, I have catch a flight....

News Flash

Jimmy is leaving us!

After four solid years of "contribution," which in Jim's case includes making half the team vomit at his party, the Italian Stallion is moving. Jimmy found out today that he'll be doing his Pediatric training at Wake Forest starting this summer.  Does this mean we got to take Toussaint back, out of "retirement?"  

Well, at least we know for sure now that we will have a year-end party, to say bye-bye to Jimmy.  Anyone else leaving at the end of the year?  We shall see....

Monday Morning Report: March 16

OUTBREAK...

AC D.C. ... the whole darn team...caught the Nikolas Bendtner disease!

In a span of 3 minutes during the game against Rovers on Saturday, Bendtner (aka completely retarded and useless arseh*le) had 4-5 solid, harder-to-miss-than-to-score chances which he failed to finish.  This led the whole stadium, all 60,304 fans, to scream for his head (and his pink boots....god I love that stadium and the fans in the seats).  

It seems his disease travelled overnight to Washington D.C., and we caught it.  Playing TPS Report 2.0 (what kind of a name for a footballing squad is that?) on Sunday, we were simply unable to finish.  Granted, our opponents were not bad, and they had one ball trickle all the way across our goal, but we had loads more chances than they did.  Ali had a breakaway against the keeper.  Peter, very Messi-like, had another which he tucked safely into the goalkeeper's belly (doh!).  Luis, very Dani Alves-like, ran onto a ball rolling across an empty net, and was just shy of touching it home.  Imi had shots on goal and so did Lindsay.  We were just not able to produce.

There seems to be a lot of rust.  Our passes were just not very crisp and were more often behind the receiver than in front.  But there is good news.  Our defense remains solid (we were under threat only rarely), and Luis is back to full fitness from his tibial plateau fracture.

Oh well.  There will be days like these.  I can't count how many seasons we have started with a nil-nil result.  It seems to be our favorite score line for the first co-ed game.  But our opponent next week will be a tough one, so we'll need to shake off that rust and kill off the game.

Le Luge Pt. II and how the cops got the drop that made up stop....

Another ACDC Luge party in the books and fortunately that's all that got booked :-)All told the party was a resounding success! Those that couldn't make it were there in spirit, if not on the slide show brilliantly prepared by Walter that delved deep into the ACDC archives for a look at the past, present and future of the team. The weather was fair which allowed us to take the party to the deck where this year's iteration of the venerable Luge fought the good fight and gave up the ghost at the service of the team.

Of course it's not quite an ACDC party without Jeff putting some voice amplifying device to his mouth. Those of you who have attended past events at my house can appreciate why Luly and I made every effort to hide anything remotely resembling a bullhorn so you can imagine my concern when Jeff pulled-up to my house with a Luge in the trunk and a battery operated bullhorn in his hand. 

The devil and his bullhorn

Despite my emphatic pleas that the bullhorn not make its way outside, it did and much to the chagrin of someone within a 15 mile radius who called the police! It must have been sometime after midnight when I had a drunken conversation with Arlington's finest. Something about a $2000 fine, inside house now, don't want to come back suggested to me that the party needed to be inside the house and a few thousand decibels lower. I learned later that they did return but we were all inside by then. :-) 

The boss and Georgie "luging." If that's not love, I don't know what is.

It would appear next year's event should be held a different venue as a gesture of goodwill to my neighbors but it's a testament to our enthusiasm and espirit de corps that we collectively mustered such a great party.

A big thanks to all who came and made it so much fun and a special thanks to Walter who generously provided the food and drink, Jen for the Rum and Jell-O-shots, Kevin for the Absolut, and Robb for that great tea-vodka thing and Jeff for picking up and delivering the Luge!

Until the next time...

Vae Victis

Monday Morning Report: March 9

We won! We won! We won! (By the way, looking at the picture, Mumbles, Khalid and Luis....you are wearing the WRONG JERSEYS....those are the old defunct jersey).

But WE WON WE WON WE WON WE WON WE WON.

Life is funny sometimes. We weren't even suppose to play in Fairfax indoor this year! You may remember that back in December, I was stressing out about missing the registration deadline for the Fairfax Sportsplex (not my fault, their clerical error), and tried to figure out how to form two futsal squads. Well, instead, futsal never happened, and Fairfax contacted us last minute and gave us a spot to play.

Well, look how that turned out! For the third time in our team history, we won the championship of our indoor season (2005, 2006, 2009). The game was nail-biter. We were knotted at 2-2 halftime, having conceded their tying goal rather comically. Georgie came out to clear the ball and completely whiffed, and thus gifting them the goal to go into the interval.

We re-focussed in the second period and went up 4-2, but a hand-ball called on me gave them the opportunity to draw closer at 4-3, and then 4-4. With 5 minutes to go, I thought that whoever scored next will win the championship. Just when I was putting in some offensive substitutions, Chris took the ball to the right corner, and with an impossible angle, put a ball past their outstanding goalkeeper. 5-4 was the final score, and we were victorious!

Whereas Mumbles scored the most yesterday, and Chris scored the brilliant winning goal, the man-of-the-match was Georgie. The man who created for himself the title of "indoor captain" (indoor captain? what the hell is that? but he forced me to give it to him!) played like a champion yesterday, flying all over the place, stopping virtually anything and everything. I thought it was the best performance out of Georgie I have ever seen. Maybe he should work 'til midnight every day during the week, every week....so he can play like that....always!

So, hopefully, the commissioner will contact me about their "champion's t-shirts" this week. I'll go fetch them to add to our collection. Thank you a million times, Carlos and Luly for hosting the Luge party. I've asked him to write about that this week. With the arrival of the cops, I doubt we'll be able to have that party at the house next year. Oh well. We'll find another place.

Spring season for co-ed starts this week. Look out for those evites, you knuckle-heads! Until then, we get to relish the sweet victory of the winter indoor season. Yeah! Here's the "indoor captain" and the champagne!

Tournament Report (and more)

Thank you to all of you who played in the first annual ACDC 5-a-side tournament.  If you are like me, you'd be sore for a day or two, but I thought that the football was played at a very high level, and I applaud everyone who put in the effort.

Looking at the "family portrait" of AC D.C., it makes me exceedingly proud to have the honor and privilege of leading this group of people week-in and week-out.  Walking around the bubble today, I realize there is a large number of people who play for AC D.C.  The trust you place in my leadership is not something I take lightly, I assure you.  I learned a lot during this tournament and will use what I learned for future tournaments to make them fairer, better, and even more fun.  

Congratulations to Jen, Jan, Zan, Matt, Peter, Jimmy and Jeff for winning this first incarnation of the tournament.  Of course it was hard for me to be objective reffing the championship game with a team that wore mis-matching socks "just to annoy Opus."  It took every ounce of self-control and in the end, I realize that I like Jen, Jan, Zan, Matt, Peter and Jimmy, so the wearer of the mis-matched socks shouldn't be penalized for the hatcher of the idea.  Of course it gnaws at my soul and my very-existence to lose to Jeff.  If you're read Les Miserable, the constable jumped into the river for the same reasons. But as Matt points out, that's stuff for my shrink to sort out, and not necessarily good blog material.  I'll be visiting my shrink every day this week.

I'm toying with the idea of using four women squad captains for the next tournament.  And using keepers....but we'll have to figure out a rule to neutralize the advantage of having a "real keeper" on the roster cuz we don't have four "real keepers" to go around the squads.  We set up the teams and rules to maintain parity across the squads, but if you break down the tactical play from today, it was obvious that there is much room for improvement in that department. The small size of the bubble affected scheduling and seriously hurt some squads as well.  We'll try to find a bigger space so that every team will have back-to-back games.  So, we learn and do better next time.

Moving on, there are big things on the horizon for AC D.C.  This week, we have the indoor championship game at Fairfax. And of course, Le Luge Deux.  If the tournament winners show up for the party, they'll receive their "prize."  Hope to see you next to the luge anon.