Today's the Day...

...and even google is joining in the jubilation.


To try and tide over my bursting anticiption, I'm watching on BBC iPlayer. It's a terrific blend of factual and comedy, and my beloved Crouchibung's on it!



A couple of things I want to see this World Cup:
- Chelsea players hugging each other throughout (whether they're playing for the same team or not.)
- Gareth Southgate smiling when he does his "punditry" (which I shan't listen to)
- Peter Crouch scoring a goal
- The BBC using Kanye West, Rihanna or Lady Gaga in their musical montages
- One game where there are a tonne of bookings and sendings off a la Netherlands-Portugal in 2006
- One goal scored from the opposition's one half
- One goal that is built up from 15+ successive passes.
- Referees doing silly things (though not against England)
- Crazy goal celebrations

Happy to say, I'll get most of those things ;D

South Africa: a jungle where dreams are made of.

So, the World Cup arrives tomorrow, and I would be lying if I were to say the anticipation wasn't making me a little light-headed. For the past few weeks, since the premiership season ended, nay, before the premiership ended, I've been thinking about precious little else other than how the Drogbas of the world will fare, who will dazzle in South Africa and who will flop, and whether or not England will, once again, crash out on penalties. As a fan of football living in England, I'm lucky in that I can actually attend matches, not to mention watch them on Sky Sports, where the attention and time put on our country's biggest sport is nothing if not meticulous. But there is something even tastier about the World Cup. Partly due, perhaps, to the fact that it only comes once every four years, or maybe that the sweltering heat in the long hot Summer (for some, not Brits, lamentably) brings out a feistier side to us all. The High School Musical factor also plays a part, ie - we all feel "united" in the mutual supporting of our country, whether we're fans of Tottenham or Tranmere Rovers. It's a combination of all these things, and many more, that makes me feel very, very happy, that starting from tomorrow, I shall be treated to a month of non-stop football.

I was out shopping a couple of weeks ago, in New Look, when I spotted these bikinis with the England flag drapped across where the tit would be. The whole thing looked horribly cheap and tacky. Similarly, England flags have infiltrated our roads via car windows and windshields, our clothes via socks, pants and god knows what else, and just about anything you can name: it's been sold with an England flag draped across it. It's embarrassingly crass, but at the same time, I wouldn't have it any other way; the anticipation and influx of marketing is what makes the World Cup what is is. Whilst the hope us England fans have in our National Team can border on delusion, it's also a credit to our passion for the game that England fans love their NT so much despite coming face to face with disappointment so much in the past. This year, there's been a noticeably more subded edge to our predictions; the majority of England fans have ditched the crowing (our below par performances in the previous World Cup and not even being able to qualify for Euro 2008 has put us in our place at long last) and decided, instead, to hope, rather than expect.

The multi-national quality of the World Cup also means that, whether intentionally or inadvertantly, I always come out of it a little more educated about the World and current affairs. I've found out more about the state of the government in North Korea this week alone than I had previously in my sad 20 years of existence. It just completes the experience of the game, I feel, to learn a little more about the players' upbringings and backgrounds. In the same vein, I generally escape the World Cup with a whole new arsenal of foreign words. I did Spanish up to AS-level and got an A, and my decision to drop it for the more Sciencey subjects still jars, even three years on. Xavi, Iker Casillas and Cesc Fabregas will have to refresh my memory with their post-match interviews, which I'm sure will be fine (in more ways than one.)

If experience has taught Bung anything, it is that she is a shit football predictor. After all, my pessimism this season led me to thinking that my beloved Chelseabung would finish third (though I was never so happy to be proved wrong.) The only thing I've ever been remotely good at predicting were the Oscars, and that's because pre-cursors were there to guide me. Nonetheless, I shall try my hand at predicting how this year's tournament will go (of course, now that I've written it out, none of this will happen):

Golden Boot: David Villa

Best Player: Xavi

Most Bookings: Wayne Rooney or John Terry (heh)

From the musical montages set to Duran Duran songs that I know the BBC will put together, to the prospect of seeing players from the same teams come ~head to head~ when representing their countries, to the naff punditry (Gareth Southgate talks football as well as he takes penalties, yet I still find him so utterly hot and would be his Loleeeeeetah any day of the week) and puns galore (The Sun writers, now's your time)... I simply cannot wait for the World Cup.

Popcorn (Ben Elton), The Virgin and the Gypsy (DH Lawrence) and Murder in Mesopotamia (Agatha Christie), amongst others.

Thanks to a lengthy commuting time to and from work everyday, I've read a fair few books this Summer already. And, as a lot of these books have been wonderful, my thirst for reading has been re-ignited. Thus, if you have recommendations for reading material of any kind, hit me up!

Popcorn (Ben Elton)

Well, well, well. I'd thought Ben Elton had nailed down social satire in his book Past-Mortem, but it turns out he'd done an even better job of it 8 years earlier. Bruce Delamitri is a trendy film director who has just won an Oscar for his ultra-violent film Ordinary Americans, a film which he claims represents America in its brutal, bloody-thirsty state, but others have condemned for influencing America's violent condition. 

With an Oscar under his belt, Delamitri is highly sure of himself, spouting various tidbits of pseudo-philosophy and expecting people to lap up his every word. However, he really learns the meaning of the word hubris when two white trash serial killers hold him hostage on the very night he wins his Oscar. 

As with Dead Famous, this is deliciously dark stuff, some of the funniest moments being at things the reader really should not have found amusing. The epilogue was pithy and the fact that there were no really likeable characters meant that, amidst the horror, the reader derived a twisted sense of glee from everything that occured. Full of characters you can see in celebrities today and short, staccato chapters, this is as good a condemnation of the pliability of the masses as you'll ever find, I can't recommend this enough.

The Virgin and the Gypsy (DH Lawrence)

Despite usage of the word "insinuate" that definitely veers on the repetitive side, DH Lawrence's novella proved to be a brilliant read nonetheless. It tells the story of two vicar's daughters, Lucille and Yvette. When the daughters were little girls the vicar's wife had run off with another more virile man, and this hangs over him in all the puritanical things he does. 

That, along with the somewhat-deranged nan who lives with the girls, has affected them and their thinking in different ways, Lucille is more conservative but Yvette, free-spirited, finds herself drawn towards a local gypsy, who's sexual attraction (and interest in her) cannot be masked. Despite being warned off him, that only serves to make her more and more beguiled by him, and their relationship, though not high on the verbal interchanges, is compelling as it is beautiful. 

I won't lie, I was a tiny bit disappointed at the lack of a deflowering scene of any kind, but there was a metaphorical orgasm, when he was drying her off. Evocatively written and with an oddly banal ending, I was far more taken with this than Lady Chatterlay's Lover.

10 Reasons Not to Fall in Love (Linda Green)

This novel is, as the fluffy title would imply, a romantic comedy chicklit, but it was surprisingly, deeper than just that. It tells the story of a woman living up North (she resides in the Yorkshire area but works as a part-time news reporter in the Lancashire area) who has a two-year-old kid, Alfie, who's dad walked out on them on Alfie's first birthday. She's recently gone back to work as a reporter, wherein he's been promoted to her boss. Somewhat awkward. 

Not surprisingly, she hates men. Until this super-sweet, hot guy called Dan walks into her life. So far, very Sophie Kinsella. But it managed to balance the sweet with a surprisingly sour bit about Dan's backstory, wherein his dad got drunk and hit his mum (hence causing him to be somewhat of a closed book). 

The depiction of domestic violence was actually pretty disturbing in the book, especially how it escalated from verbal abuse to the odd slap to life-threatening amounts of violence. I found myself shedding tears at the most unexpected of moments during this book, and, surprisingly for a chicklit, there was football banter! At first I thought the author was a closet Kopite when she made Richard (the bastard ex) a Man Utd fan and hot Dan a Scouser, but then the narrator was a City fan so I don't know frankly. 

Anyway, I really liked the narrator's writing style, a fine balance between colloquial and intellectual. And I love how it demonstrated that amidst all the shit life throws up, we can eventually get our happy ending, if we're not afraid to try. Recommended.

The Big Four / Murder in Mesopotamia (Agatha Christie)

Not, as I'd blithely wondered, about the "big four" teams in the Premiership, but instead about a cartel

of mastermind criminals who collude to bring down entire empires.

There was a bit too much bluffing and double-bluffing regarding whether or not a pretty integral character was alive or dead in The Big Four to render it believable, plus it focussed more on the espionage side of things, when I prefer the murder mystery. But Agatha Christie showed just why Hercule Poirot remains one of the most beguiling, ingenious men in literature.

Murder in Mesopotamia, I was less taken with, just because I got rather confused when more and more and more characters got introduced (lol, I'm so clever NAT), but the plot twist was as audacious as I'd expect from Christie, and I'm glad the cold-hearted bitch at the centre of it all got what she deserved.

Tales From a Hen Weekend (Olivia Ryan)

Katie Halliday, a vivacious, happy 30something who believes in true love, is on the brink of getting married to Matt, the man she believes to be the love of her life. As he jets off for a weekend in Prague, she's off to Dublin with her friends, aunt and mother, but over the course of that holiday, home truths and murky secrets are revealed left, right and centre. 

This was a rather more predictable checklist than 10 Reasons Not to Fall In Love, and although the characters were all sweet enough (although I found it hard to warm to the protagonist because she seemed to have the gift of being loved universally, which I found hard to believe), the book itself had nothing new to contribute to the genre. 

A fun enough read, just massively forgettable.

Dead Lovely (Helen Fitzgerald)

Oooh er. Whatever I was expecting from Fitzgerald's novel, which revolves around a claustraphobic set-up of married couple Sarah and Kyle and their best friend's Krissie's camping holiday in the Scottish highlands, it wasn't this. 

Krissie, you see, is a free-spirited woman who likes the length of her sexual conquests to be inversely proportional of the willy size of the men inside her who has recently given birth to Robbie following a one-night stand in a public toilet whilst on holiday, and Sarah, despite being married to Kyle and copulating in cycles, can't conceieve for love nor money. 

Add into this equation the fact that Kyle finds himself increasingly attracted to Sarah and it doesn't take Stephen Hawking to work out that this seedy threesome is just an accident waiting to happen. And, sure enough, there's murders, failed murders, attempted murders, and finally, a plot twist so dark that I was surprised such a thing got published. 

But credit to Fitzgerald for her accomplished fusion of sex, murder and human relationships, as well as the way she evoked laughter even at the most dastardly of actions.

Not a bad bunch, on the whole!

Somedays I'm sweet, and somedays I'm sour.

In this very brief (but still in many ways far too long) clip of me singing and dancing drunkenly to Cheryl Cole's Happy Hour, I would most certainly say I were sour. I dunno why I'm bunging it on my blog, aside from to share the cringe factor? :3





How dance should be done:

10 Players I'm Really Looking Forward to Watching in the 2010 World Cup.

Under a week until the World Cup, and I can literally not take the excitement. In the pre-World Cup build-up we've already had heartbreak and disappointment, what with some key players getting injured in the friendlies and warm ups, whilst others have failed to been selected by their country's managers. Of the players that are going, here are the 10 that I'm most excited about seeing in action.

10. Salomon Kalou (Ivory Coast, Chelsea)

Now that Drogba's out of the World Cup (weep), Salomon Kalou could well find himself acting as the key striker for the Ivory Coast. This will be a slight change from his role at Chelsea, where, although he has been deployed as a forward, he has had more experience playing on the wing. Furthermore, whilst the Ivory Coast does still feature some premiership names (Arsenal's Eboue, and Man City's Kolo Toure, their captain in the abscence of Drogba), Kalou is one of the IC's more prominent players, unlike at Chelsea, and it will be interesting to see how he copes with this higher level of responsibility. Many Chelsea fans frequently find themselves banging their heads against the wall when watching Kalou; for all his pace and troubling defenders, some of his crosses leave a lot to be desired, and his finishing fluctuant. But I bloody love him. As you'll discover (to a point ad nauseum), I love footballers who try, and Kalou does just that. Plus I find it totally adorable and refreshing how in this day and age, when many players utter a couple of expletetives when they miss the goal, Kalou just grins sheepishly, and carrys on. It's that kind of cute, angel-faced school prefect behaviour that makes me just want to mother him.

09. Tim Cahill (Australia, Everton)

Arguably one of the best premier league players not playing for a top four side, Tim Cahill has been on the English football scene for 12 years now, six of those with Millwall and six with Everton. On more than one occasion he has been the saviour for Australia in internationals, as he has done with Everton - witness the way he skipped merrily around Man City's defenders in the match this season as if they simply weren't there.  The pacey, energetic way at which he bounds around the pitch is, in itself, not dissimilar to that of a kangaroos. It will be exciting to see how he runs circles around Germany, Ghana and Serbia in the so-called "group of death" (vol1). There's a vol 2 later. :p

08. Park Ji-Sung (South Korea, Manchester United)

I find Park Ji-Sung massively underrated. Whilst I know his erratic performances in front of goal have led to many Manchester United fans to want to punch him, I personally love him for his work ethic and energy. I'm a huge softie for football players who, although not the best, always give 110%, and nobody exemplifies that better than Park. As captain of South Korea, he is the one in the squad with the most experience of football at its highest level (the only other premiership player in the squad is Bolton's Lee Chung-Yong), and the big-game mentality that he has acquired from representing Manchester United in Europe shall surely come in handy when South Korea find themselves face to face with Argentina in the group stages. Also, he's Asian, as am I, so automatic brownie points for that.

07. Ashley Cole (England, Chelsea)

You've got to hand it to Ashley Cole. Quite possibly the most reviled man in England, every football ground he visits is met with animosity at his every touch of the ball, and banter in the form of his ex-wife's song lyrics (Stoke fans sang "We've got to file file file file file for divorce" to him as Chelsea rogered Stoke 7-0 at Stamford Bridge). But with his philandering and being detested, Ashley Cole has also acquired a mighty thick skin. In a season where he started so promisingly, Ashley Cole picked up an ankle injury at Everton in February, around the time when Chelsea needed him the most. He returned towards the end of the season and his four great performances in the remaining matches helped win the league and the FA Cup - but there was a faint trace of regret interwoven with my pride when Chelsea paraded those two trophies around West London. What if, I wondered, Ashley Cole had been fit for those two integral games against Inter in the CL? Could, perhaps, it have been the treble we'd been sporting - and finally have the CL trophy to Chelseabung's name. Anyway, thinking over scenarios that never happened is just a waste of time. Ashley Cole hadn't been fit, and we didn't beat Inter. But, for all his questionble morals "as a person", Ashley Cole is a dynamite of a left-back; both at attacking and defending. Whilst England's right-back, Glen Johnson, has a tendency to dose off - something Aaron Lennon must atone for in midfield if it happens, Ashley Cole barely has that problem. Alert, agile (even at 29) and consistently a threat, it will be terrific fun to see him dancing with the ball with Chelsea team-mate Joe Cole down the left. England don't need a parachute, if we've got him.

06. Wesley Sneijder (Netherlands, Inter Milan)

Sold to Inter from Real for around 15million euros with the money Inter got for their "Ibrahimovic sale", Sneijder made a splash straight away, adapting to Italian football brilliantly and greatly enjoying the role Jose Mourinho gave him as a trequartista behind Eto'o and Milito. It is this attacking trio, along with goals from all over the pitch and Jose Mourinho's machiavellian know-how that guided Inter Milan to the treble, and after all that, one could hardly blame Sneijder for feeling a little... fatigued. But no, the 25-year-old, balding, thrice-divorced Dutchie is having none of that. Having gotten his hands on three major trophies already, he's got his eye on a fourth.

05. Kaká (Brazil, Real Madrid)

It would not be unfair to say that on the whole, Ricky Kaká has had a bit of an underwhelming season for Real Madrid. A lot of this is not the poor boy's fault; unlike at Brazil and AC Milan, where the team was built around him, Kaká found himself having to adapt to a different style of play in Spain, and he has struggled with form-dipping injury throughout the season. Plus, with the hefty price tag burdered on him, anyone would feel a bit nervous. Nonetheless, he will not feel content with how the past season has gone - especially when compared to Cristiano Ronaldo, Real Madrid's other multi-million Euro signing - and will take it upon himself to find redemption in South Africa. Interestingly enough, Kaká and Ronaldo will find themselves face to face in the Group Stages, as Portugal, Brazil, Ivory Coast and North Korea form Group G, the "Group of Death" (vol2). If things don't go as planned, Kaká may find himself talking to god on more than one occasion...

04. Philipp Lahm (Germany, Bayern München)

When Chelsea's Michael Ballack was ruled out of the World Cup with an ankle injury, it added to Germany's already growing injury list of first-team players, what with their first choice goalie Rene Adler nursing a rib injury. Speculation also arose as to who would wear the captain's armband. The smart money was on Stuttgart's Sami Khedira, though Klose, Bastian Schweinsteiger and Lukas Podolski also in for a shout. But in the end, Germany manager Joachim Löw gave the position to pint-sized Philipp Lahm, one of the most baby faced players in the World Cup. A right-footed left-back, he was doing the "playing inside out" thing long before Ashley Young, Craig Bellamy and Damien Duff cottoned onto it, and whilst his minute height occasionally leads to gaps in his defensive game, he usually takes it upon himself to compensate - it was Lahm who scored the equaliser for Germany in their 3-1 friendly victory over Bosnia when he was at fault for the one goal Bosnia conceded. A key stalwart for Germany in their past few tournaments, it will be interesting to see how he fares in South Africa, carrying the weight of representing his country, defending and now captaining on his 5'7" shoulders.

03. Xavi (Spain, Barcelona)

In May, reports broke out that Cesc Fàbregas, the 23-year-old captain of Arsenal, wanted to re-join Barcelona, the club he started at. Whilst his desire to do so is partially justified; as a Spaniard, who can fault him for wanting to go back to his homeland, and season upon season of disappointment with Arsenal can only push him so far, the best argument for Cesc not going to Barca and staying exactly where he is is in the form of Xavi Hernandez, Spain team-mate. They play in similar roles for their teams and with Xavi still at the peak of his powers, I feel that were Fàbregas to be Cataluña-bound, he would be forever playing second fiddle to the man seven years his senior. At 30, Xavi is at the age when footballers are supposed to be declining in physical fitness, but the past season he has had with Barcelona completely counters that. Arguably the best playmaker in the world, his passing is second to none, his link-up play with Barca and Spain team-mate Andrés Iniesta is borderline telepathic, and, for all the plaudits Lionel Messi has won for his many match-winning goals, there is a monster in midfield behind him, quietly doing the integral cogwork.

02. Frank Lampard (England, Chelsea)

Lampard has just had a sensational season with Chelseabung, wherein he has topped his own scoring record with 21 league goals and more assists than any other player. That his reputation as a World class footballer is in refute is just a joke. But anyway. For those of us with eyes and can see how immense Mr. Lampard is, the desire to see him play for England is also intermingled with trepidation for how Capello will handle the Lampard/Gerrard conundrum, something he still hasn't sorted. I have my own ideas but I'm no football manager, so I shall hold my own counsel over the matter (for once). But I do hope Lampard isn't the casualty, because he is an absolute diamond of a footballer. Two years ago, his mother passed away, and six days on from the tragedy he chose to go back to his job as a 'player and play in the crucial CL tie between Chelsea and Liverpool at Stamford Bridge. With the game tied at 1-1, 2-2 on aggregate, a penalty was awarded to Chelsea. Many people could barely watch as Lampard prised the ball away from team-mate Ballack to take the spot-kick. His heart and head must have been all over the place and had he missed, it would have hurt a lot more than any other penalty. But the way he scored the penalty - essentially securing a victory for Chelsea, was transcendent in that, in its own way, also represented a victory for life over death. Tears streaming down his face as he looked upwards to the sky, Lampard won, the haters lost and for me, he is King.

01. Peter Crouch (England, Tottenham Hotspur)

No surprise, really. Peter Crouch turned my head in the 2006 World Cup and worringly, 4 years on, the obsession still hasn't desisted. Between those four years, he has played for three different teams, had good spells and bad but never failed to entertain me. Whilst not the most fashionable of footballers, Crouchie nonetheless epitomizes everything I love about the beautiful game: determination, team spirit and a simple thirst to play football. Some may argue that he's a flat-track bully at international level, but this argument is circular; Crouchie is hardly ever selected to play against the more "difficult" nations and when he does, it is for 4 minutes as a substitute- hardly a reasonable length of time to score in. When given the chance to shine, oh, how he soars; back in 2007 he scored a hattrick against Arsenal (the only other player to achieve such a feat in recent years is Leo Messi), and what a hattrick it was, scored with his left foot, right foot and head. Capello would do well to start Crouch alongside Rooney; Crouchie has a knack of getting himself in the right place at exactly the right time (Manchester City conceding the goal from him that put Spurs in the CL at their expense will attest to that) and his international goal-scoring rate (21 in 38 games) speaks for itself. As an England fan, I'm always wary of over-optimism, but I can't help thinking that with Crouchie as our #9, there could just be a few treats in store for England this Summer.

And players who will be sorely missed...

From top left then clockwise: Didier Drogba, Ivory Coast and Petr Cech, Czech Republic (both Chelsea, Drogba due to injury and Cech due to failing to qualify), Michael Ballack, Germany and Michael Essien, Ghana (both Chelsea, both got injured), Adam Johnson, England (Man City, was selected for the privisional 30-man squad but failed to make it into the 23), Luka Modric and Niko Kranjcar, both Croatia (Tottenham, Croatia failed to qualify) and Shay Given and Richard Dunne, both R.O.I (Man City, Aston Villa, Ireland missed quliaification by an arm)

Words actually can't describe how much I adore this performance

Musically, it's not the best, but Bad Romance, Dance Wiv Me, Fight for This Love, Everybody in Love and I Dreamed a Dream are all songs that have five stars on my iTunes, and I love the personality of this lovely little group:



The Arrangement to win BGT!!