I'm Back Baby!!!

Well fellow mopes, after two week long hiatus I am finally back. As you know I made my way to the wonderfully futbol filled country of England two weeks ago and I just returned on Saturday. I probably should have taken notes while I was there since I drank enough alcohol to comatose a baby elephant. So if there are some errors and/or something doesn't quite make sense, it is probably because the last two braincells aren't generating enough force to complete a sensible sentence. So I figured I would give you a rundown of what we did, some differences in culture that I noticed and my overall thoughts on being there.

First and foremost, let me start by saying that there is so much f'ing history in that country that it is almost unbelievable. I went to see several sights while I was there and I was in awe when I saw most of them. Example: I went to see a castle that was built in the year 506. How f'ing crazy is that??? 5 0 friggin' 6! I went to see several sights that were similar yada yada yada.

OK, let's get to the good stuff. Everyone knows that they drive on the wrong side of the road and they have a pretty gangster accent but there is a lot more than that. First of all, let's start with the most important thing.....Beer. Upon entering my first of several pubs I wasn't sure what to expect. The guys that we hung out with said to order one of the local "bitters." So without any hesitation, I pony up to the bar and ask for one pint of "bitter." The guy reached up underneath the counter and his hands were momentarily hidden, which worried me, and then he came back up with a pretty dark, room temperature, heavily headed brew. I took a sip and, hey, it wasn't too bad. I then yell out my name in hopes to get a tab going for the many beverages that I planned on having for the night but do you think that happened? NOPE! So after fighting a losing battle with the random barkeep, I went about my business. After a while, I had enough of the bitters and decided that I was going to have a mixed drink. So I make my way up to my best friend in the country and I order a vodka and 7. My buddy disappears for a second and returns with what appears to be a glass of 7-up. I take a swig and, yup, it is mostly 7-up. I confront the guy who is quickly becoming my nemesis and ask for some ice, first of all and another shot of vodka. He proceeds to pub 2 cubes of ice into the ginormous glass followed by what I can best describe as a splash of vodka. At this point I have two choices. I can quietly take my 7, splash of vodka and my 2 cubes of ice and be on my merry way or I can fight my way through the f'ing idiot who is posing as a bartender. What do you suppose I did? That's right, I fought with the idiot! It started out nice with me simply asking "why the hell is ice treated as if it is an ounce of platinum?" So I get a response in a heavy English accent "what the bloody 'ell are you talking about?" This goes on for the majority of the night so I cut my losses, stumble outside, look around disoriented for a minute and head in the general direction of where I am staying. This same scenario went on for several nights until I was able to learn some of the local jargon and order me a real drink.
.
Overall, it was a good time. I stayed drunk, talked trash about local futbol clubs and f'd with a bunch of Brits. They didn't think that my liver could hang with them but old faithful hung in there just fine. I would tell you guys about my trip to France but F the Frenchies. So until next post, cheers mates!

Poor Cubbies....

Even their own fans are turning on them.
Ryan Dempster can't take the heckling anymore!

July 28, 2007...

...Chi-town!
Can't wait!!

Congratualtions again Mr & (soon-to-be) Mrs. P-Nug!

Another funny blog...

...how's this for a blast from the past?!

http://roccopendolas.blogspot.com/2006/06/dallas-radio-sportsradio-1310-ticket.html

CONGRATULATIONS...

...go to our great Chi-town friends for finally getting engaged!
P-Nug we're very happy and proud of you. You're a lucky man to have such a great girl in your life. K...congrats to you as well! Take care of our nugget.

Can't wait for Aug/Sept '07!

Giggle

One more from KS's diary.

Nose-picking and an anal sex primer
Monday 3 July 2006 @ 1:26 pm
I get a ton of shit from the wife for how often my finger’s up my nose. Anyone else got one of these spouses/girlfriends/boyfriends?
What’s the big fucking deal? I’m a smoker, so I get boogers. Where’s the harm in digitally cleaning that shit out? It’s not like I’m mining for gold then making a salty deposit in the Oral Bank or something. I pick, and depending on where I am, I flick. If I’m near a tissue, I’ll stuff the fruits of my labor in it, sure. But if no tissue’s handy? Zooooooom! Across the room it goes, for parts unknown. Wherever it lands ain’t my problem; it’s not up my nostrils anymore, and that’s all that matters.
I get a lot of “Just use a tissue to blow your nose, you fucking skeve.” However, blowing your nose doesn’t necessarily do the trick, y’know? The hard and crusties sometimes don’t always budge during the conventional nose-blow. A finger scrub’s the best way to guarantee no danglers. And don’t gimme any of this “Well use the tissue to scrape ‘em out” shit; tissues break, and then I’ve got this toxic bullshit up my shnoz as well as the nose crud. Tissues (or toilet paper) is for your ass, I say. THAT’S when you don’t want tactile contact with something coming out of your body: when a stench accompanies it. But boogers have no odor. I don’t use a Kleenex to wipe away sleepers (or eye crud); why the fuck would I use a tissue to get unscented waste out of some other hole in my body?
Why is seeing a finger up someone’s nose considered such bad form? I see someone picking their nose, I’m like “Now THERE’S a motherfucker I can TRUST.” Kids are notorious nose-pickers, and who’s more trustworthy than a child - unless, of course, that child’s Damien? However, I don’t recall ever seeing Damien pick his nose in either the original “Omen” or the recent remake, which strengthens my point even further: Satan’s spawn DOESN’T pick his nose. Who wants to be like that kid, with the bad bowl-cut and the constant scowl (in the remake, at least), pissing off baboons (in the original) and knocking your Mother off a top floor balcony (in both)? If the Anti-Christ is all about doing the opposite of what’s righteous, maybe picking your nose has the air of divinity about it?
We can learn a lot from those “Omen” flicks. The first time the concept of ass-fucking was introduced to me was via “The Final Conflict” - the under-appreciated third entry in the original “Omen” saga, starring Sam Neill as the now-adult Damien. He hooked up with this reporter lady, and at one point, they’re getting down. Suddenly, he flips the chick over and buries it, all evil-like, in her dumper. As an eleven year old without the benefit of an internet connection (or an internet, period), I was confused, to say the least. Sure - I knew about conventional sex (I used to shoplift “Hustler” from the local magazine store), but the horror in this woman’s eyes and the physical displeasure she was indicating spoke of some unforgivable act I wasn’t schooled in. I was watching the scene and imagining this dude’s sporting some kind of forked cock (I mean, he IS the devil), that’s got a hydra-like head that’s snapping at this poor lady’s snapper - hence all the crying. I turn to my brother and ask “What the hell’s going on, ya’ think?” And my brother explains that Damien’s getting all sorts of rectal with this chick.
“He’s putting it in her butt,” Brother Don tells me.“Why?” I ask.“Because he’s the devil. That’s what the devil does, I guess.”
Now, coming from a Catholic household and six years of Catholic school at this point, you’d imagine that’d be some kind of formative moment for both of us: like, from that moment forward, me and my brother would forever associate (or ASSociate) anal sex with Armageddon, and I’d grow up to be one of these “Gays are the devil’s pawns” kinda guys. Instead, my brother grew up to be gay (married to a man, and celebrating their thirteenth anniversary today, as a matter of fact), and I became something of an ass-man myself (though with the ladies). The only Armageddon it introduced was my brother and I growing up to be like “Armageddon me some ass!”
What I did take from “Final Conflict”, however, was that anal is something to be approached delicately. For that reason, I’m far less agro than Damien when it comes to the booty; I’m smoove. I’d have sex for the first time approximately two years after seeing that flick (I lost it at age thirteen, with a chick named Norma), but it’d be two more years after that before I got into some of my first digital ass-play with my then-girlfriend, in a parked VW Beetle. Oddly, Damien and his hate-fucking antics never once sprang to mind. There was no spooky music and howls of terror; it was actually all kinds of cool, because the two of us (the then-girlfriend and I) worked ourselves up into a teenage frenzy over the tresspassing into heretofore forbidden territory… until a cop knocked on the window with his flashlight and told us to move along. But from that moment forward, the genie was out of the bottle, and the ass was in play: any time I went down on a girl, sooner or later, the pinky would aid and abet my cunnilingus.
I remember having a conversation with Mewes about eating girls out, and being shocked to learn that he only did it with the chicks he really liked or was going to spend time with beyond a one-night stand. Going down on chicks was never an option for me; it was the standard. When you grow up fat, you’re never any chick’s first choice for fooling around, and any nookie you get is predicated more on your personality than your looks. Since I didn’t have the aesthetic advantage working for me, I decided that having the oral edge might improve my chances of getting action beyond the mercy-dry hump or third base fumblings. If a girl was gonna do me the courtesy of giving me a shot at the title, so to speak, I was gonna make an impression. So at age thirteen, I bought a gynecological textbook at a physician’s book shop and read that shit cover-to-cover, absorbing all the knowledge I could about the mysteries of the dickless. By age fourteen, I was - as Sam Kinison used to say - a lick-master from the Orient. You’d be surprised how many women will look past a flabby, swingin’ gutt if they know they’re gonna get eaten out with nearly surgical precision. And when you add digital-to-anal manipulation to the mix, any thought of you as a fat-ass seems to fly out the window (at least until she cums).
I wouldn’t have honest-to-goodness anal sex for another few years after that initial parked car experimentation. Then, like now, I was never the instigator; perhaps because of the impolite example Damien provided all those years prior, I figured that first move wasn’t mine to make. If a girl wanted to plumb those depths, she was gonna have to tell me to do so. It’s common courtesy, I’ve always figured: if I was a chick, I’d want to make that choice for myself - not have some oversexed horndog who’s already being given the gift of a lifetime get all greedy and go for broke of his own volition.
Contrary to what they tell us in porn, I’m of a firm belief that most chicks aren’t very into anal, but only opt for it in the heat of the moment. Sure, there are always exceptions that prove the rule; but if a sexual itinerary were to be established upfront, before things got hot-and-heavy, I think most women would be hard-pressed to utter “And then, you can drill my brown.” It’s only during the throes of passion, when common sense gives way to pure carnality, that anal suddenly becomes a seemingly good idea. For that reason, I’ve never rushed in with my dick where angels fear to tread; I’ll start with the fingers, and if reason doesn’t settle in at that point, I’ll eventually do as I’m told - though only in a spooning fashion. I mean, look at me: I’m not the guy you want on top of you during traditional sex, let alone when something as delicate as the sphincter’s at the epicenter of it all. If a guy my size loses his balance during man-on-top anal sex, the poor woman’s looking at future of colostomy bags. I don’t Damien-it; I’m the tenth-of-an-inch at a time type, leaving plenty of room for reversal of opinion. It also helps that I’m hung like a grape.
I guess what I’m getting at is this: I feel it’s totally okay to pick your nose. And anal is something you’ve gotta let your partner call the shots on and during.
However, picking your nose DURING anal? Probably not a good idea.

Credit: http://silentbobspeaks.com/?p=261

Now THIS is a RANT!

From the greatness of Kevin Smith's on-line diary:

A Dick in a Mustache is Still Just a Dick (Updated with Sound Clip!!!)
Tuesday 18 July 2006 @ 4:16 pm
NOW INCLUDING THE RIVETING OPIE AND ANTHONY SHOW CLIP OF ME AND JOEL, DUKING IT OUT! SEE BELOW!
So last night, at a press screening of “Clerks II” in New York City, “Good Morning America” movie critic Joel Siegel decided he’d had enough of my shenanigans, and walked out of the flick at the forty minute mark. You’d imagine this would bother me, and yet, I’m as delighted by this news as I was with the eight minute standing ovation “Clerks II” received in Cannes.
I mean, it’s Joel Siegel, for Christ’s sake. As Paul Thomas Anderson once said of the man, getting a bad review from Siegel is like a badge of honor. This is the guy who stole his mustachioed critic shtick from Gene Shalit years ago, and still refuses to give it back. This is a guy who seemingly prides himself on being “punny” - that is, he likes to add his own nyuk-nyuk wordplay into the reviews he writes/gives.
For “Pirates 2″, he made us all titter with “Yo, Ho, Ho and a Bottle of Fun”.
For Pixar’s lastest, he made us squeal with delight when he wrote “Wheelie Good Time for ‘Cars’”.
Can you believe he somehow not only made us laugh, but also think, when he challenged our perception with “X-Men’ Fails to X-cite”?
I mean, Fozzy fucking Bear laughs at this guy (AT, mind you, not WITH).
So while I feel like my life will be a little bleaker now that I’ll never know what pun Joel would’ve dug deeply into his comedic well to produce for “Clerks II” (”‘Clerks II?’ More like ‘Jerks, Too’!”), I’ve gotta admit that I’m relieved somebody was finally offended by the flick - enough to head for the exit less than an hour in. I was beginning to think I was losing my touch.
I can’t fault Mr. Siegel for feeling “revolted” (his producer’s description of Joel’s reaction) by our flick; in truth, there is a donkey show in it, and I recognize that brand of whimsy might not be for everybody. Film appreciation is very subjective, and maybe Joel just isn’t into ass-to-mouth conversations.
However, I CAN fault him for the manner in which he left the screening.
Apparently, rather than quietly exit, both Joel and his Cum-Catcher (my slang for the fancy kind of mustache he sports) made a big stink about walking out, calling as much attention to himself as possible, and being generally pretty disruptive.
Check this shit out: roughly forty minutes into the flick, when Randal orders up the third act donkey show, Siegel bellowed to his fellow critics “Time to go!'’ and “This is the first movie I’ve walked out of in 30 fucking years!'’
Now, I don’t need Joel Siegel to suck my dick the way he apparently sucks M. Night’s, gushing over his flick before he’s even seen it; but shit, man - how about a little common fucking courtesy?Never mind the fact that when you’re paid to watch movies for a living and the only tasks required of you are to a) sit through said movies and b) write your thoughts about them before your deadline, walking out before a movie’s over is pretty unprofessional. Never mind the fact that the scene he was offended by (the ordering of the donkey show), with its (misleading) crude references is only the set-up to a third act pay-off that is a true bait-and-switch from where Joel’s imagination went (and if you’ve already seen the flick, you KNOW what I’m talking about). Never mind that this dude is so straight-laced in his tastes and hyperbolic in his praise that when The Onion took a poke at Joel, I was almost unsure whether it was a joke or not…
You never… NEVER disrupt a movie, simply because you don’t like it.
Cardinal rule of movie-going: shut your fucking mouth while the movie’s playing. They even ask you to do so in the pre-show run-up to every flick (”Cell phones and pagers off, no talking during the show”). This guy went beyond talking, even; he was making a spectacle of himself as he left. I’ve now spoken to three folks in attendance last night, and all have said that Siegel WANTED everyone to know how disgusted he was, and that he was leaving. If you want to share your displeasure with everyone, that’s fine, dude; just do it AFTER the movie, not during. Some folks were enjoying themselves. I don’t come down to your job and slap the taste out of your mouth for coming up with a line like “‘Shark Tale’ Is a Halibut Good Time”; so don’t fuck with my stuff WHILE IT’S STILL SCREENING.
Shit, Joel, I know you like being on camera and all, but was it so difficult to not be the center of attention for 40 minutes that you just had to sparkle, Neely, sparkle-it up for your peers instead of showing them a little goddamn courtesy by leaving the theater the way most people do, either during or after the picture: quietly? What are you, a twelve year old boy, cutting loose with your pals at a Friday night screening of “Scary Movie 4″ while your parents are in a theater down the hall watching “The Devil Wears Prada”? Leave the diva-like behavior and drama-queen antics to the movie stars, not the movie reviewer, ya’ rude-ass prick.
It makes me laugh to think that, had Joel stayed ’til the end (like any good critic would for any movie they’re paid to watch), he would’ve seen that we weren’t going where he seemed to think we were going. But apparently, Joel took a cue from his own “Poseiden” review, in which he wrote “Audiences today wouldn’t stand for an hour of exposition before the flood hit. In fact, they wouldn’t stand; they’d walk out.” Well, Magnum (y’know - because of the mustache), I guess you’re a member of that same audience that can’t stand exposition.
Look, I don’t hate the guy. Shit, I’m glad he survived his fairly recent bout with cancer. But his behavior in that screening was unconscionable and professionally unethical, not to mention childishly disruptive. And while I might get laughed at for saying this… well, I just expected more from Joel Siegel.
*sigh*
UPDATE!
The New York Post ran a rather large item about this story on Page Six today, and this morning on the Opie and Anthony Show, the guys and I were talking about the whole Affair du Siegel. Then, the guys got Mr. Mustache on the phone. What follows is pretty fucking entertaining radio and a fascinating insight into the hubris that comes with being the “punny” movie critic on “Good Morning America”.
Click on me and listen with a sense of wonder…

Weekend talk...

Pretty average weekend overall. Mostly domestic but did see the greatness of Clerks 2. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it. Had a great dinner with some friends in Dallas Saturday followed by, of course, The B with 3/4 of the Mopes. Did my best to try to get Shump to hook up with Crazy girl. I think he had a shot! Haven't heard if he "closed" yet.

Talked to Lips yesterday. Sounds like the Carlsburg crusade continues! He'll actually be back early Saturday morning. And we got a DD for the big concert Saturday night. With Patelapalooza Friday and a DD/van all night Saturday....next weekend could get ugly!

Thanks...

...for the referral Shump.
Shumpy readers...nothing too entertaining yet. The Mopes are not yet coordinated. Check back in a week or so. Much better Mope-talk planned!

Ticket available...

...to Def Leppard/Journey on Saturday, July 29th.
We've got a DD for the 15 passenger van as well.
You're freight? $40 for the ticket, $15 for the ride.

Let me know!

Carlsburg, part III...

Got another call from Lips last evening (7:20pm our time...1:20am his). All's going well. Training and the boozing. Man he was hammered. "Internet Connection" came out "InterSHnet ConnecSHUUUn" Really funny. I think their unit is trying to drain the UK of Carlsburg beer.

He promises many a good posts upon his return. Unfortunately he doesn't have any InterSHnet ConnecSHUUUn on the other side of the pond.

BTW, I know Nicole hates sports links, but he's disappeared and I could care less. Check out Simmons search for an EPL team to follow and his review of Carslburg beer:
http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=simmons/060719

What a whipping!

I hate Ticket subs. I thought it couldn't get worse than Kevin Scott and especially Rich Phillips who absolutely whips me to death. All they do is laugh at each other and at things that are absolutely NOT funny. When I came back from lunch they debated whether tigers have achilles tendons. Giggling like little girls the whole time. It wasn't remotely funny.

But then I had the most unfortunate experience of tuning in Mickey and Bill on afternoon drive time. I didn't think it could get worse than KS & RP, but it did.

Guess it's Dan Patrick and Drunken Old Man River (who is also NOT funny) until they return to a normal lineup/schedule.

Where is P-Nug Quartz when you need him?! He would so blow away these dorks. And I do mean dorks. Cat had a serious lack of judgement allowing those two shows on. They offer nothing!

Quickie.

Yesterday's Quickie alluded to that...
That regular Mopes can relate to WSOD and WSOP because they are common man games. You dont' have to be an incredible athlete to play either and on a lucky day we could compete with the people on TV (or so we think).
Of course, a few beers in us and we're beating THOSE mopes!

Whew...

...the creative posts flying on this board are coming at an amazing clip! Well I guess with Lips out of the country, CA (I can't even write-out his name anymore-he should definitely change it!) settling into a new job and Deuce being whipped by Grapevinians, it's been quiet!

Well, day two in GB, comes another drunken call from Lips. More Carlsson, less sleep, good training, funny forthcoming stories for the blog, more training today and probably some more Carlsson tonight before passing out from exhaustion tomorrow for a 24 hour drinking reprieve before more drinking...no doubt. Anyway, good to hear from one of the Mopes on his adventures every evening. Looking forward to hearing the stories.

We need them. This thing is rolling on life support!

Funny.

http://www.theregister.co.uk/2006/07/13/zidane_headbutt_outrage/

Cristobol nuptuals?!

I hear if "Cristobol get off his butt to call St. Mike's" that a wedding could be Jan 20, 2007!
Congratulations!!!!!

WANTED...!!!!!

A designated driver for a 15 passenger van on Saturday, July 29 from about 3pm until ??
What's in it for you?
1. One FREE ticket to the Def Leppard/Journey concert.
2. Perhaps some free food!
3. Definitely all-you-can-drink free water, soda, etc.
4. The company of 2 of-the-4 Mopes and 12 of their buds!

Must be human, sober (all night) and have a LEGAL Texas driver's license.

If interested, please leave a comment on this posting ASAP!
TIA.

Vegas...

...during March Madness?!!!

Also, I just conversed with...

...the lovely Miss Faulkner. Hadn't heard from them in a while. Sounds like her and Cristobol are considering HI for their Honeymoon. Of course I berated her with the ole 'when are you getting married' questions (seems like they've been engaged for 5 years!) before trying to answer all of her questions.

Of course I had to put the ole "ya know Deuce is not getting married until you guys do" line.

Hee Hee.

Sorry Deuce.

Well...

...I talked to a very inebriated Lips from the southern tip of England yesterday. They started with Wersteiner and ended with too much Carlsson beer. Sounded like they were trying to finish the bar's stock. He was (predictably) hurting Saturday but slept almost the entire way overseas. Go up like a good soldier and continued the bender.
Up today...some training and more drinking! God bless the military!

And yet...

...the end result was still the same!

Ok...one MORE thing...

Best of luck to Mope Lips and all his buddies as they venture over seas. Here's to hoping you boys stay safe and have fun. Thanks again for your service to our country and for fighting for our right to write stupid blogs.
Also, please tell the Listonian, Velcro, Token, Puddin' and all the boys we said hi and take care and drink plenty of English Ale for us.

Ok...'Das Enuf...for now.

One more thing...

Coon...As your friend, it is my duty to point one minor thing out to you. I wouldn't blame the size of your johnson on your lack of success last night. Uh, might want to re-read the post before you publish it buddy!

It must have been fun...

...You had to tell us twice?! Come on Duuude. You must still be hammered. Though I must agree it was fun to see everyone out last night. It was also fun to see Cocky Coon hopped up on too much Red Bull hitting on a lesbian, proclaiming how he was going to "bed" her and if we were "lucky" he'd "allow" us to watch her with her lady friends, all to end up with Mr. Happy in hand in the car on the way home. Shocking, I know.

Put a few drinks in Coon (that Red Bull followed by Jack combo can't be healthy for the next morning!) inject a few ladies in the area and you do have entertainment for an evening. He's like a weather vane on a stormy day. All hopped up, pointing in every direction ("did you see her," "Oh, look at that"), then the fun part...about the 6th or 7th beer (or 3rd double jack)...Cocky Coon replaces normal Coon ("I could have her," "I'll see her naked later tonight," etc). Then the inevitable...Hammered Coon! This is when the cajun accent kicks in, doubled with the slurring which makes understanding him much like putting a soccer team together named Tortugas and expecting to win much. Which is to say impossible. But it doesn't matter because no matter what he's trying to say, Cocky Coon has turned direction to look for the next HOT chick to play his "game"!
Each phase more entertaining then the previous one!

It's all good. We all have our drunk quirks I suppose. Heck I drink out of the side of my mouth. Why? Who the hell knows, but I guess it's entertainment for the other 3 mopes. Just as Coon's "game" is for us.

Good luck in Waco, Coon!

A True Definition...

Thanks to Miguel Cones for the suggestion:

http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/mope

And, yes we agree that "dilly-dallier" is the best synonym.

Arena out!

Arena out as U.S. national coach at end of year
Wayne DrehsESPN.com
U.S. Soccer President Sunil Gulati announced Friday that U.S. Men's National Team coach Bruce Arena, the longest-tenured national team coach at the World Cup, will not return to the U.S. team after his contract expires at the end of the year.

Arena met with Gulati and U.S. Soccer Secretary General Dan Flynn for five hours Thursday at LaGuardia Airport, and a decision was finalized Friday morning.
Gulati said a worldwide search to find a replacement will begin immediately. Speculation will center on Jürgen Klinsmann, who coached the German national team to a third-place finish in this month's World Cup. Klinsmann, who lives in California with his family, stepped down from the German post earlier this week, saying he felt, "burnt out."
Arena, hired in October 1998, will leave the national team as the winningest coach in its history. He coached the 2002 U.S. men's team to the quarterfinals of the World Cup, the Americans' best World Cup showing more than 70 years. But Arena's squad disappointed at this year's World Cup, failing to advance out of group play as it lost to the Czech Republic and Ghana and tied eventual World Cup champion Italy.
"It comes down primarily to eight years being a long period," Gulati said. "I'm not going to say we felt the need to change directions. The direction Bruce has set is very, very positive. We didn't get the results we wanted in the World Cup, but Bruce didn't become a bad coach in three games with a few bad bounces of the ball."
"It's tough to see a good coach leave, especially with what he's done for the sport of soccer in this country," Clint Dempsey, the only U.S. player to score during the 2006 World Cup, told ESPN.com. "The way I see it, if it's not broke, don't fix it. But I guess the federation was disappointed in our performance in the last World Cup and decided to go in another direction."
Ron Scheffler/US PRESSWIRE/Other
After eight years, it was time for Bruce Arena and U.S. Soccer to go in different directions.
Dempsey felt it was unfair for critics to solely blame Arena for the Americans' World Cup disappointment, which included a 3-0 tournament-opening loss to the Czech Republic. After tying Italy 1-1, the Americans could have advanced out of group play with a victory over Ghana, but they lost that match 2-1 after a controversial penalty call late in the first half.
"You can't put that entirely on a coach," Dempsey said. "It's on the players, as well. We didn't do what we needed to do. He put us in the position to be successful, and we came up short. Both parties should be blamed, but that's not the way it works. And it's tough that he gets the blame."
Arena compiled a 71-30-29 record during his eight years, including records for consecutive games unbeaten (16 in 2003-04) and most wins in a calendar year (13 in 2005). In addition to his team's performances in the World Cup, he coached the U.S. team to two CONCACAF Gold Cup championships (in 2002 and 2005) and a third-place finish at the 1999 FIFA Confederations Cup.
His 71 victories and .658 winning percentage are U.S. soccer records.
"I would like to thank the players, coaches and staff who have been with the program over the last eight years," Arena said via a statement. "Their tireless effort has helped transform the national team program into something we can all be proud of, and I am extremely grateful for their commitment. I have thoroughly enjoyed this experience, and I would like to thank U.S. Soccer for the opportunity and their support throughout my tenure. I am proud of how far the organization has come over the last eight years, and I am extremely optimistic about the future of the sport in our country."
On Friday, Gulati said he hadn't talked to Klinsmann in six months but acknowledged the former German star could be a potential candidate.
"He's a very inquisitive guy," Gulati said. "He comes to coaches conventions; he'll ask Anson Dorrance how he motivated his North Carolina teams. All those sorts of things. He's intelligent, multilingual. He has a lot of positive qualities."
Arena, on the other hand, said he plans to take some time off before weighing future coaching opportunities here and abroad.

True definition.

Thanks to Miguel Cones for the following:
(And yes, we agree "“dilly-dallier" is the best synonym.)

mope ( P ) moped, mop·ing,\n mopes \n \n \n \n

To be gloomy or dejected. \n To brood or sulk.
. \n \n To move in a leisurely or aimless manner;\n dawdle. \n A person given to gloomy or dejected moods. \n mopes Low\n spirits; the blues. Often used with the. intr.v. moped, mop·ing, mopes To be gloomy or dejected. To brood or sulk. To move in a leisurely or aimless manner; dawdle. n. A person given to gloomy or dejected moods. mopes Low spirits; the blues. Often used with the.
dillydallier, dilly-dallier,\nlounger] v 1:\nmove around slowly and aimlessly [syn: mope around]\n2: be apathetic, gloomy, or dazed [syn: ",1]

Source: The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth EditionCopyright © 2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company.Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.

True definition.

Thanks to Miguel Cones for the following:
And yes, we agree "“dilly-dallier" is the best synonym.


mope ( P )
moped, mop·ing,\n mopes \n \n \n \n To be gloomy or dejected. \n To brood or sulk. See Synonyms at brood. \n \n To move in a leisurely or aimless manner;\n dawdle. \n A person given to gloomy or dejected moods. \n mopes Low\n spirits; the blues. Often used with the.

intr.v. moped, mop·ing, mopes

To be gloomy or dejected.
To brood or sulk.
To move in a leisurely or aimless manner; dawdle.
n.
A person given to gloomy or dejected moods.
mopes Low spirits; the blues. Often used with the.


dallier, dillydallier, dilly-dallier,\nlounger] v 1:\nmove around slowly and aimlessly [syn: mope around]\n2: be apathetic, gloomy, or dazed [syn: ",1]

Source: The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth EditionCopyright © 2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company.Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.

http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/columns/story?columnist=wojciechowski_gene&id=2518129

Genius...followup....

Lips...Few just called cracking up about Pierard's post. She somehow remembered that you can imitate the dude who sings that pretty well. Anyway, she suggested that you should practice Pierard's post and present your singing chops for us.

Genius!

Pierard's latest post on our fantasy football message board (no need to tell you who it was addressed to...you know):

"Way to go, over Mr. Word Abuser Guy. (He over abuses his words, yeah) Today we salute you. While most men make up for their shortcomings by purchasing exotic cars and growing absurdly thick mustaches, you choose to beat us down with your "propesity for proclivity". (Wake me when it's over.) So crack open a cold Bud Light you purveyor of the gratuitous. You've earned it."

Morning Musings...

Good point about the lack of sports though. This time of year blows.

I was having a hard time listening to Jr this morning. He was railing on Dirk and how he, Garnett and David Robinson are 7' anomalies that you can NOT build a team around. His contention is that he'd rather have a 6'4" to 6'9" swingman that create his own shot at any time. Well no sh*t! There are just so many Kobe's, LeBron's and Wade's out there.

The thing that I do agree with him on is the two super-star theory. I think you need two solid stars on your team to win. The Mavs just don't have that bona fide second fiddle yet. Jet shows up HUGE in some games and disappears in others. Same with Josh. Now the potential is definitely there. I think both Jet and J-Ho (especially J-Ho) could develop into that second star. Maybe even Devin. But those two (Devin and J-Ho) really need to develop their outside shot.

Jr's Spurs bias--and opportunity to knock the Mavs down a notch--really makes anything he says about the Mavs invalid, in my opinion. Heck, they were TWO games short of a title this year. I think they do deserve some credit!

That's the dumbest question you've ever asked.
And that's saying a lot.

Before I forget...

...a big thanks to Shump for helping me yesterday.
If you are a visitor to the 4 Mopes...or even if you are a mope, be sure to go visit him at Shumpy.com today.
Mucha Gracias!

Oooo, Stinky's being called out!

Hey can you see the "site meter" at the very bottom/center of the page?

The new template is good. What gives with the Deuce? His first post on the blog and he throws down a one-liner? Come on dude! Give us something to work with. F the Stinkies and I hope they do have to return the Cup to FIFA!

Pic?

We need a good picture. No, not of any of us...no one cares. But something that encapsulates The True Mope! A picture of the original Mope? Nah...A graphic perhaps?

Let me know if you have any ideas. I can download it straight onto the Blog in the margin just to the right of this text.

New Template...

Fellow Mopes...
What do you think of this new template?
Like, dislike?
It's a little better than the plain one we had before.

Where's Lips?
Haltomites hate him don't they?!

Blackistone has always been over the top, especially anything regarding race. Italy will not give up the trophy and FIFA won't ask them to. That's just unrealistic. But whatever Stinky did say will come out. And if it was indeed racist, he should be disciplined....harshly.

Wow...now here's an HSO!

Kind of agrees with your post Coonass, but definitely takes it a step further.


Insults in Cup final foul as well
If slur led to Zidane's head butt, then Italy won tarnished gold
01:26 AM CDT on Wednesday, July 12, 2006
It isn't France's Zinedine Zidane for whom I feel most sorry in the aftermath of his swan song turned dirge in the World Cup final. It is for the wonderful game of international soccer.
For just as I suspected while watching Zizou – as Zidane is fondly known – get tossed from the title game for spearing Italy's Marco Materazzi in the chest with his head, he was provoked not by something as clear-cut as a mere unsportsmanlike act.
Instead, he was incited by some sort of insult that most reports have suggested was the type that this World Cup's organizers in particular and global soccer's keepers in general have been working so steadfastly to distance their sport from – the slur against color or heritage.
What exactly was said we do not yet know. Materazzi has denied every specific utterance attributed to him, including those deciphered by lip readers contracted by various European news outlets in recent days. Zidane's handlers said he's so shaken by the incident that he hasn't been able to speak about it. Maybe in a day or two, they said.
But we do know that whatever Materazzi said was offensive. Materazzi admitted as much the other day after extensive probing.
And we do know that Zidane is the son of Algerian emigrants to France, that he is a Muslim, that he is very proud of his background and that soccer's governing body, FIFA, last March announced it would penalize any players, teams and fans who disrespected the game's Zidanes because of their heritage.
We also know that Materazzi is the son of famous Italian coach Giuseppe Materazzi, who once managed Lazio, an Italian team the son is contracted to play for this season. Lazio is infamous for being the favored club of Mussolini, Italy's World War II fascist dictator.
Its fan club – called The Ultras – is notorious for a faction in it that has stooped over the years to hurling racist chants at opponents of color and waving Nazi flags during matches against AS Roma, a team widely supported by Rome's Jewish community.
And they've been accused of unfurling banners emblazoned with the most vulgar of racial epithets that can be hurled at people of African descent such as Zidane.
None of that is to call Materazzi guilty simply by association. However, if a FIFA investigation now under way finds Materazzi guilty of taunting Zidane with racist words at soccer's most revered moment, soccer must punish him and do so severely.
If soccer believes, as do many of its fans, that Zidane's expulsion from the biggest game cost France the 2006 World Cup trophy, the game should even consider stripping Italy of the golden award.
In fact, if fair play is as integral to soccer as the corner kick – what with the traditions such as a team voluntarily stopping play when an opponent goes down in pain – Italy should even consider surrendering the most coveted award.
It has been easy for some observers to immediately criticize Zidane for losing his cool, because his reaction to whatever happened was clearly a flagrant act. But where is the criticism now of Materazzi, who hasn't yet apologized for the insult he admitted he used?
And why is it so difficult for so many to understand that some words and phrases can be so hurtful as to inspire what appear to be unimaginable acts like Zidane's? They would do themselves well to review Harvard Law professor Randall Kennedy's etymology Nigger: The Strange Career of a Troublesome Word to learn that courts of law in this country have ruled that there are indeed what we call "fighting words."
They are, as Kennedy cited from a 1942 court case, "certain well-defined and narrowly limited classes of speech, the prevention and punishment of which have never been thought to raise any constitutional problem. These include ... insulting or 'fighting' words – those which by their very utterance inflict injury or tend to incite an immediate breach of the peace."
Or, in this latest case, a head-butt.
And if there is anything that can kill the so-called beautiful game of soccer that is a favorite in most of the world – from Europe to Africa and across the sea to the Caribbean and South and Central America – it is the abject ugliness of racism.
The good news is that the sport knows it. The bad news is that it is having a dickens of a time stamping it out.
A "Say No to Racism" campaign, which FIFA unveiled for the World Cup just ended, isn't enough, however. It really needs to level the sanctions it unveiled just before the competition commenced if, in fact, this incident resulted from a breach of basic respect for fellow man.
E-mail kblackistone@dallasnews.com

Uh oh...

...see #4:
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2006/sioncampus/07/10/10careers/index.html

All of that is true. But the US could benefit from more offensive minded coaching as well. You saw it in the WC. Pretty good, solid defense. Absolutely NO offense. I think there were only 3-4 shots on goal in 3 games. That is rediculous. The one goal credited to the US was an own-goal by the Stinky's.
I'm not saying Klinsmann is the answer for all the teams woes, but he might be a piece.
And that bit about him being tired. Yea probably. But it's amazing what a 6 month vacation will do for you. I'd bet he's coaching somewhere in preps for 2010. Why not here?

You just read what the guy said. He said he was a "burnout." Plus, is that all that the US soccer team needs? The team is missing a lot more than just a coach. Our problem stems from the fact that Americans have more of a tendency to play the bigger sports such as basketball, football, etc. If we can focus more on soccer like the other countries, then maybe we have a chance but we won't see that for a long time!

Klinsmann

Chances that he's the next American coach?
http://soccernet.espn.go.com/news/story?id=373764&cc=5901

Greatness...

http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/allstar06/columns/story?columnist=stark_jayson&id=2516876&campaign=rss&source=ESPNHeadlines

Is it me or does Jayson Stark look scary without that mustache.

Wow, the shots are firing off already. I figured that people would wait a couple of weeks until they started proclaiming their hate us but I guess not. I can't wait for SL and maybe Quartz can make it down but if I know him, once the woman cracks the whip and tells him to get back to work, it will be a short-lived dream of drinking a cold one with the boys in St Louey!

Quartz...

In response to your two comments:
1. F' off. The wife is already "pleased." Hence the squid in a couple months!
2. We'll be in St. Louey Aug 4-6. We get in at 11:30am Friday (airfare compliments of Mark Cuban!), going to the Cards game Fri night. No firm plans other than the game, but we will definitely gamble, probably tour the brewery, maybe go to the Arch, definitely go to some Italian restuarant the ladies are clammering for (see item #1 above), perhaps go to some Irish bar suggested to Zamboni. You and Kristi should definitely join us. We're staying at the Wyndham on St. Charles Street in downtown.

Things are looking up!

Gentlemen. After fighting through a rough night of All-Star baseball, things are finally looking up. So I am driving to work contemplating death and upon arrival, I notice something strange at the ole jobsite. Was it completely destroyed you might ask......I wish. It was dark! I thought for a moment that I may have actually woke up on time and beat all of the other slaves to work but I quickly laughed that off knowing for sure THAT wasn't true. Low and behold it turns out that we had a power outage that left our office crippled for the day. The work Gods must have smiled on us today because the internet is up and running but our internal network is shot. I don't think that I have ever been happier. The only thing that could make this day any better is if they release us to the local pub. The "Man" will not be keeping us down today!

Small fonts are good. Manlaw it is. Michael Young the All-Star MVP! We need some late night banter. Where are the other mopes when you need them?

BTW, I think we should use Tiny or Small Font size. Normal takes up too much space.
Man Law?!

Then a short time after that is the greatness of ND/PSU in The Bend.
My liver fears that trip.

Well said Lips. July blows for sports.
Plus it's f'n hot, humid and I have to put a new shirt on after walking to the mailbox.
Not to mention the reruns on TV. Thank God for HBO Sunday nights (you knew that was coming).
Fortunately this year we have St. Louey to look forward to. Good ole St. Louey. Cards game at the new Busch. Gambling. Brewery tours. Some Irish bar that came highly recommended by Zamboni. The Arch --eh, it's for the ladies. Just a few short weeks away.
Can't wait!

Downtime in sports

Well boys, here we are on our inaugural post. I have waited a long time for this! All the drunken nights in the bar, talking sports, politics, prior weekend festivities and any and all thoughts that may pop into our heads are finally paying off. As I sit here watching the MLB All-Star game, I am thinking to myself how much life sucks. Our beloved Mavs lost the NBA finals so all I have to look forward to is next season. The Dallas Stars got bounced early and the only positive thing that came out of that id that they will be back on the ice in just a couple of short months. The Rangers, eh, unless I am at the game with an $8 beer, it just isn't the same game. I wasn't a big fan of soccer before the World Cup but somehow I find myself missing it. So at this point all I can do is read all the football "experts" and how they think that all the players will perform this year and use that information to prepare myself for the upcoming fantasy football drafts, which I might add is one of the high points in my year. So to sum it all up, Life sucks and when the only sport that you have to look forward to is baseball the immediate future doesn't look good. Bring on the football but be quick about it because all I can think about is wasting away my Sundays in front of the TV while scarfing down about fifty wings and watching my fantasy football team take it in the can yet another year.

Lips!

Lips now on the b-l-OG!

Holla!

Welcome!

Welcome to the Four Mopes! The other three should be along soon....!