Thought we'd gone missing again?

Yes, it's another overdue blog post from your friends at the OC. But considering only three people read and write this blog, does it really matter?

Actually, one of your contributors at the OC is going to get a shot at writing a UEFA Champions League blog, so consider this a test run of a test run. Yes, this is another soccer blog and y'all better like it. (Also, it'd be nice if either of you can come up with a better headline that Corner Kicks. Because lets face it, it's quite dweeby.
---

Corner Kicks

MSG Plus is proud to present for the first time in its history Europe's premier soccer club competition, the UEFA Champions League as we kickoff our wall-to-wall coverage on Aug. 18.

For those who have enjoyed the Champions League in previous years, you're in for a treat every Tuesday on MSG Plus. For the first time in this country, the Champions League will be broadcasted in sterling High Definition, bringing you closer to the action more than ever before.

For those who have never fancied soccer, you’re missing out on something that transcends pure fandom – something that has to be witnessed to truly appreciate
why the beautiful game means so much to so many around the world. Indeed, soccer is called the beautiful game because there is an artistic element and skill on the pitch that would make Van Gogh and Picasso stand up and clap in appreciation. Take a glance at some of these breathtaking goals from last season’s competition and try to argue.

And for the world’s best players to be taken seriously, they must perform in European competition. The true icons of the game – the Cristiano Ronaldos, the Lionel Messis, and the Steven Gerrards have all proven beyond a shadow of a doubt why they are considered the world’s best players by producing fabulous performances when their clubs needed it the most.

But the appeal of the Champions League doesn’t just end with what’s on the field of the play. The atmosphere at these games is second to none. Have a look and a listen the final whistle from the 2005 Champions League Semifinal between Liverpool and Chelsea as victorious Liverpool fans sing their anthem, “You’ll Never Walk Alone” at the end of the game.

Naturally, it is that passion generated by the supporters that fuel some of the questions heading into this competition. Will Barcelona defend “Ol’ Big Ears” and become the first team to successfully defend the Champions League crown? Can Real Madrid finally get out of the quarterfinal stage of the tournament after spending nearly $304 million dollars on five players, including a world-record transfer fee for Ronaldo? Or will the English clubs prove to be the masters of Europe again? We’ll all see soon enough.

This blog will be your guide throughout the tournament, starting from the draw for the playoff qualifying round, all the way to final in Madrid on May 22, 2010. We'll be profiling anything and everything you wanted to know about the Champions League, but were afraid to ask, as well as giving you insight on the teams, the players, the coaches and rabid fans across Europe. So sit back, relax, and make MSG Plus your viewing home on Tuesdays at 2:30 p.m.

Stop Exploiting Michael Jackson!

As I was walking through the city of New York, I noticed something interesting today. No, it wasn't the sun, which was making its first appearance in the city for the first time in two months. A homeless man with this sign -- Stop the Exploitation of Michael Jackson.


Look, I liked MJ's music. Well, I did until he went off the deep end and became, to borrow from a Dos Equis commercial's tag line, "the most interesting man in the world." Although, instead of being interesting for the right reasons, he became a bizarre cult figure -- pet monkey, building an amusement park in his backyard, mangaling his face, marrying Elvis' daughter, literally turning black to white, having a child with a really ugly chick (or at least paying her off to say that it's his kid), naming the kid Blanket and putting him in a freaking burqua and, not to forget, multiple child molestation charges. I'm still not sure if Mike is dead or if he got beemed up to the Enterprise or something.

Now he's dead and we worship the guy again because he's dead. Admittedly, this was expected to happen. Hell, I'm a huge Nirvana fan and I know that if Kurt Cobain didn't shoot himself, Nirvana wouldn't have nearly the following it does now. But lets not forget that this Jacko at the end of his life was simply insane. He wasn't a saint by any means. We should respect his professional work, some of the very best pop music that changed it forever. He isn't Gandhi or Mother Theresa, though. So please, stop exploiting Michael Jackson.

Where's my red carpet?

After a year+ hiatus, your Imaginary Friend makes his return. I’m sure all zero of our readers missed me. I’m gonna jump on a couple topics and just shoot from the fingertip. And your boy done brung some bile.

NBA Draft Hate
I now hate the Golden State Warriors. I hope a black cloud of misfortune – one blacker and more misfortuner (it's a word now) than the one they’ve already got – hovers over that franchise for many years, and another, this one an aerosol-caused smog, pollutes their air. I hope a spate of injuries rapes that team and murders its season. Fuck it, I hope the Cleveland Browns take in one of their games during a west coast trip and passes on that staph infection.

If you haven't already guessed, I’m a Knicks fan. And for the first time in an Alabama minute, they had the chance to get a player who fit their system, wanted to come here and was within reach. Stephen Curry was probably already shopping for lofts and cataloguing Manhattan bimbos and fans were envisioning threes dropping off drive-and-kick plays in transition. Add to it, LeBron James is a big fan of Curry’s, so that might-could’ve helped in the 2010 courtship. Alas, the cock dream-blockin’ Warriors had to jump in at No. 7, a spot ahead of the Knicks, and poke a needle in that thought bubble. It's not enough that my team sucks, but another sucky team had to come swipe some optimism.

The Knicks, as you know, switched to Plan B and drafted Jordan Hill, whose diction I'll probably be making fun of in the coming months. Sure, he’s an athletic 6’10” forward who can run the floor, rebound and block some shots. He's raw offensively, but he's got the talent to improve and should add some muscle to that lean 230-pound frame in the next couple years. Kinda reminds me of the scouting reports and expert takes on Jared Jeffries when he came out in 2002. Yeah. I can’t stand Jared Jeffries.

To make things worse, Curry isn't even a great fit for the Warriors, who already have a point guard-sized hybrid two guard in Monta Ellis. He’s a 6’3”, shoot-first combo guard. Curry is a 6’3”, shoot-first combo guard. He’s less athletic than Ellis, but has a better perimeter game. In that sense, they kind of compliment each other. And in another sense (common sense?), they have the same weaknesses and neither provides what that team needs; stuff like defense, a post option, inside presence and rebounding. If all goes as they’d hope and Curry – whom the Warriors said they won’t trade – earns his way into the starting lineup, they’ll have a midget backcourt. That’s the same problem they had with the Ellis-Baron Davis lineup, and with fewer assists. I know it wasn't, but the way it'll turn out, it'll be as if Golden State made the move just to teabag the Knicks.

I can’t wait to see them fail this year. And I don’t want no regular ol’ standard-issue failure. We think big 'round here. Nothing but EPIC FAIL will suffice. I wanna see the all-point guard roster plan backfire on the Timberwolves, too. But that's just for giggles. I'm wishing bad juju on Golden State out of spite. Hateful spite. I hope Stephen Jackson pistol whips one of Don Nelson's breasts.

Real quick: The Timberwolves are retarded… I hope Ricky Rubio goes back to Spain… Ricky Rubio will suck in the NBA… Ricky Rubio wears satin panties.

Did you hear Michael Jackson died?
I’ll save the jokes (but trust me, I’ve got a bunch) and just say that this was to be expected. His life was more tragic than his death and he’s probably better off. If you’ve got the gobsmacked, scrunched-face, Renee Zelweger look right now because you're appalled at what you just read, I hope a big Neanderthal hand materializes out of thin air in front of your monitor and slaps you, palm side. Shaddap! If you’re all shook up over Jacko’s passing, you’re either one of those people who gets too caught up in celebrity deaths ("They matter so much more than regular people!") or you’re in love with the name Michael Jackson and have chosen to cling to the pre-WTF! memories of him.

Real talk: As bizarre and screwed up as his life was, you could say a half century was the over. I called it in 2004, though I was off by a year. I’d said then that he probably wouldn't make 50. Some people just aren’t meant to be on this earth too long. And in Michael’s case, his mind kinda left this world a while ago. My guess/prediction then was that he’d commit suicide via pill overdose or accidentally overdose or die during a cosmetic operation. Looks like it might’ve been an accidental overdose.

According to the New York Post (always a reliable source), which cited a source (one I’m sure is as reliable as them), Jackson was on a bunch of pills, including anti-depressants, pain killers and muscle relaxants. Drugs we've become familiar with through Eminem lyrics! Consuming all those tablets, in addition to whatever other chemicals were already in his body (the ones that turned him from a black man to a Jheri-curled Latino to a white woman to a porcelain creature with a detachable nose) had to have taken a toll. You can't do all that and live to 85, climbing trees with monkeys and sleeping with children.

I give the man his props for all the success he had and the mark he made on the music industry – hell, he’s the reason Rockwell is getting scrilla off those Geico commercials; you know damn well you can’t quote one line from that song except the Jacko-sung chorus. But I’m imploring our readers (all none of you) to stop acting shocked about his death (and, subsequently, LaToya’s). You should’ve seen it coming.

Guess what? Mike Tyson ain’t got but five years left, either.

Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen
Sucked. The first one sucked and when I heard a sequel was in production, I knew it would suck, too. Watched it out of curiosity (and I didn’t pay for it because I'm a hooligan), just to see how much it would suck. It actually sucked more than I figured it would. I haven't gone into a movie expecting it to suck as mightily and had it exceed my expectations for suckitude that much since I saw Twilight. [Tangent: If you liked Twilight and you're somehow reading this blog, leave. We're not for you and we don't want your kind around.] But Transformers has been huge at the box office and it’ll probably be the summer’s biggest hit. Know why? Because people suck.

The chorus – well, the mondegreen version – of a gospel hymn comes to mind: “Bringing in the sheep, bringing in the sheep…”

I can’t imagine Michael Bay and Steven Spielberg went through the production process without ever thinking, “Wow, this flick is stupid.” But it’s one of those movies that was created to appeal to a wide audience and, really, you can’t blame them for that. It’s gonna rake in hundreds of millions, so the purpose was served.

I blame you, the watchers, on this one. Ye wide audience. It’s chock full of all the hackneyed crap ya’ll love. Robots: Oh, America loves robots. If a talking animal or a robot ran for president, you would vote for it. Robots fighting: Oh, that’s the spot. It worked well for the Terminator and Power Rangers franchises. Clichéd love story backdropping mass chaos and ignored tragedy: Woooo! Simply irresistible. Aliens attempting to destroy our planet: "And I only have to pay $10 to see it?" Lots of stuff getting blown up: A lot of film studios and actors have made a lot of money milking that teet. And throw in popular, fresh-faced stars deemed “hawt!” by the public (people like ejaculating to celebrities) in Megan Fox and Shia LaBeouf and we’ve got the clincher. The fishing hook is thrown and so the masses are baited.

It’s a tried and true formula. Never mind that the plot is silly, the acting is bad, the special effects are overdone (and not even that good) and the storyline is less than predictable. Those elements always bring ‘em in.

Here’s a spoiler: The good guys win this time.

Did you watch it? You liked it, right? DreamWorks knew you would. Because you suck!

And when I got home after watching 150-minute reel of ass, I saw this parked on my block.

Not making this up. It was parked right next to a "no parking" sign, too.

Let's Samba!

Hey! People in America care about soccer again!

Well, only for tomorrow. Then people will be care about sports more popular than soccer until the World Cup.

So it's the United States vs. Brazil in the FIFA Confederations Cup Final. A quick FAQ of the who, what and why:

1) What is the Confederations Cup and why should we care?

It's a tournament that brings together the winners of various regions of the world. US = North America, or the crappiest world region outside of Oceania (that means the Fiji Islands, New Zealand and other countries you'll never go to) vs. Brazil, the winners of the South American region, arguably the best one in the world. The United States won the Gold Cup and Brazil won Copa America -- so that's why both countries are here.

2) How has the good ole USA done against Brazil?

Awesome! Or the direct opposite of awesome. Which would be not awesome. The States has won one game against Brazil in 1998 and has been treated like a new prison in-mate in every other game. They already lost 3-nil in the opening stages of the tournament and really, it's Brazil. You know, the country that has won the World Cup more than any other country. If it weren't for the fact that Brazil beat the beejezus out of Italy and Egypt spent more time with hookers than preparing to play the USA, the Stars and Stripes would be homeward bound.

3) Why are you writing about soccer?

Because I can. And, as much crap as the sport gets in this country, it can provide dramma rarely found in sports. Now, I have to admit, I gave the US as much of a chance to beat Spain as I do dating and impregnating Eliza Dusku. But it was a terrific story. A underdog American side beating the No. 1-ranked footballing side in the world. How freaking cool is that?

For the States to beat Brazil after beating Spain would be ginormous. Two of the very best in the world? Losing? To AMERICA? That would be massive.

Prediction: Brazil 2, US 0.

Where have you gone George Steinbrenner...o?

In another ho-hum interleague game in June, the Yankees lost, 2-1, to the Marlins.

Big deal, right? I mean, there's about 245 games in the baseball regular season to care about, what's one defeat?

How we yearn for the days when a June defeat would cause George Steinbrenner to go batty and start firing pitching coaches.

Let's face facts. Whether you love George or hate him, he has had a profound impact on the game of baseball and the Yankees, for better or worse. This is the man that bought the Yankees for a meager amount of $10 million and turned them into a money-making colossus. This is also the guy that approved the Jay Buhner-Ken Phelps trade. You take the good with the bad.

It sounds crazy now, but as an unabashed Yankees fan, I missed the days when King George would go nuts and rip an underperforming player a new one. Who can forget the time when he called Hideki Irabu "a fat pussy toad?" Or when he dubbed Dave Winfield "Mr. May"? At the time when he says these seemingly outlandish statements, you're probably thinking to yourself that ole George has been hitting the sauce a little too hard.

But now? Now, with the uber-corporate non-competitive Yankees, there's just not the same feeling that ownership cares as much as the fan does anymore. And that's what we loved about George. He cared about winning, wearing his heart on his sleeve like the stock brocker down on Wall Street or the waiter at Peter Luger's or the 10-year-old kid wearing his Derek Jeter pajamas to sleep (I don't have any direct knowledge that any child has this, but...if that is true, that kid probably gets beaten up everyday at school. I digress) about your team. He cared, whether it was for ego or for the fact that he really wanted to kick everyone's butt and dominate the sport of baseball. You adored that.

He wanted to win and he wasn't shy about expressing how much he wanted to win. He didn't care about how great the farm system was -- he was willing to give up anything to get that shiny ring on his finger. Really, if George was at his peak, is there any doubt that Johan Santana is wearing Yankee pinstripes instead of Mets ones? I know one thing. If George had all his marbles, there is no way the Yanks are 0-8 against the Sawx. He would have sent Robbie Cano down to Trenton, Phil Hughes would have been traded to Pittsburgh and would have hired Billy Martin's corpse to manager the team.

And that was one of the reasons Steinbrenner was money for the sports pages, whether be local or national. With the state of newspapers being about as good as General Motors' prospects are at the moment, they could use George screaming about why A.J. Burnett is getting paid a boatload of money and not coming through. It generated talk on the street -- "George is out of his mind" or "You know what, he's got a freaking point".

But like newspapers, it appears as if George is fading into the sunset. Strange, really. You'd almost expect this final blaze of glory from the old guy, just to remind everyone who is the Boss.

And I prefer proven players

So...I'm thinking the Mark Sanchez inevitable ascension to Jerk is nigh.

There isn't anything particularly offensive about this little tidbit, but I feel it, y'all. Something about waxing poetic about the "women of New York" and the awesomeness of brunettes whilst your blonde "just friend" stands next to you seems just a touch Jared Leto-esque.

Enjoy, my little gangrene golden child. It's not like New York has been known to turn on it's "exhalted heroes" or anything.

Also:





Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, Pout 'n Perm. You gunna git DE-STROYED.