I'm swapping my clogs for flamenco shoes

It’s been a ferociously busy week, and a few posts fell by the wayside. Here is a picture leftover from a post where I was creating match up images for the semi finals. I imagined the teams as characters in Street Fighter II, but instead of humans they were Squid – so kind of a Squid Fighter II mash up, and yeah, I’m not really sure where I was going with this:

Sat on the couch like a Zombie this morning from 4am until just before 7am watching the Netherlands lose 0-1 to a superior Spain. I was disappointed that the Shoddy Dozen didn’t pull through with the goods in the end, but part of me was quite happy with the result for three reasons:

1. Spain were the better side – Netherlands played like a bunch of hoodlums in the first half. They ended up scoring nine yellow cards for the match – two of which should have been red cards. This is what shits me about the inconsistency of the refs, how can a flying karate kick to the chest not be a fucking red card?

2. The Shoddy Dozen wager lasted the entire tournament. In fact, the last three matches I sat down and watched could have won me the $220. It’s rare to have a bet carry through for so long. In hindsight, I should have put a bit of cash on Spain to win the tournament when they were the remaining favourite and still had two games to go. I think they were at about 4 to 1 odds then. If I had put $50 on Spain before the quarter finals were over, then I would have gone into the Final with this wager: a Netherlands win would make me a 65 dollar profit, a loss would have made me...a 65 dollar profit. Oh well, lesson learnt – and a sure win wasn’t quite as exciting as the one big winner takes all bet.

3. If the Netherlands had won, then Paul the Psychic Octopus would have been wrong with his final prediction. He has been my favourite personality of the World Cup. I love the fact that somebody in a German Aquarium decided to let one of the sea life pick the winners of the matches, and his co-workers and the media thought ”fuck it, why not?”

Speaking of Paul the Octovoiyant, his first winning pick was pretty much decided a fluke, as that was a 50/50 chance of choosing that bad boy. But eight predictions in a row is another feat altogether. He had a one in 256 chance of pulling that off. If you had chucked 20 bucks on his first prediction, and decided to rollover the winnings through to the finish – Paul would have netted you over eight thousand dollars. Jesus.

The Germans loved their eight legged friend of course, up until he predicted their loss to Spain. Then they wanted to fry the fucker into calamari rings, and sent multiple death threats to his aquarium. Then, to add insult to injury, they sang mid game chants declaring Paul’s mother a slut. Harsh.

Typing "slut octopus" into Google Image search revealed this picture. Plus several hundred Japanese porn site photos that will haunt me for weeks.

Anyway, the 2010 World Cup is now over, and I thank you non Soccer fans for baring with me through this.

I’ve got a handful of posts to wrap this week up (awards I have created for various WC antics, a list of Cup villains, and final thoughts on the whole shebang) – and then we will return to our regular viewing.