Why Football Is Sometimes Still Worth It, Or A Guide to Euro 2012 : Eye Candy Edition.

[For whatever reason, Blogger decided to publish parts of this post in the most obnoxious double-spaced format imaginable. I've tried everything I could think of to fix it, to no avail, and I am pissed. Many apologies for how ugly the formatting is here on this post. Let us now look at pictures of hot football-playing persons and be happy.]

The draws have been made, the preliminary matches have been decided, the 16 teams all have their passports and tickets in hand.The Internet will be flooded with article after article of team analysis, tactical breakdowns, strategic predictions, and lists of "Ultimate Up-and-Coming Players to Watch" or some variation thereof. This, however, is not my forte. Not at all. No; I am here to provide football guidance of a very different nature. I am here to tell you all about Players to Watch, indeed. But it's the kind of watching that makes us all that much happier in our ladyparts (or manparts, if we are so inclined).

I must admit that I've sort of given up on football lately - the drama, the corruption, the same famous faces and teams have turned me bored and jaded, and sent me running after the (sometimes literally) greener pastures of rugby . But the idea of an international tournament always gets me pumped up again. Ladies and gentlemen, friends and acquaintances, football(er) lovers and comrades in soccer dude-objectification! Have faith, for here are some delicious reasons why football is sometimes seriously still worth the trouble.

*I've tried my absolute best to include players from as many national teams as possible, spread out across all four groups, but since this list is based purely and entirely on my own personal tastes, you must forgive my heavy biases towards certain countries. And also for completely leaving out the likes of Poland and Greece (you guys just aren't doing it for me, man; buck up).

Group A

Group A, sadly, yields very little in terms of glorious manflesh objectification potential, but all hope is not lost, for we do have ;

Václav Pilař [Czech Republic / Midfielder]

I know very little of Vaclav, and have actually never heard of him before the national squad announcements were made. What little I've seen on Google images seems promising, however, and I look forward to getting to know him better during the course of the competition. And if things go really well, he should start thinking about making some room for me. In his pants.


Andrei Arshavin [Russia / Forward, and also Captain because BAD ASS]

Andrei is on this list purely due to ADORABILITY FACTOR - while I don't necessarily feel the urge to reach through my TV set and dry hump him across several time zones and a continent, I do find him ridiculously sweet and personable, with a tremendously quirky sense of humour, and definitely one of the more memorable footballing personalities around. And that smile! One just feels like grabbing him by the dimpled cheeks and gurgling baby talk at him. It will serve well to counter the extreme horniness induced by other occupants of this list.


Group B

Group B contains Germany, and therefore also the motherload. Being tremendously biased, I could just tell you that the entire 23-man squad is bangable, and leave it at that. But I'll be helpful and point out some of the finer specimens that Deutschland has to offer ;


Mario Gomez [Germany/Forward]


The half-Spanish Mario strikes me as being somewhat of a bimbo sometimes, but his effusive fondness for walking around shirtless for no reason kind of made me warm up to him a great deal. He is usually the first player on the pitch to divest himself of his soccer kit the minute the final whistle blows, and I shamelessly love him for it. Plus, he has great hair! Look at that shit on his head. Dude's working some fine cranial follicular growth up in da hizza. Sometimes, he scores goals. But frankly, the propensity to be shirtless is much, much greater. He's just so good to us.

Mats Hummels [Germany/ Defender]

You may remember Mats from my gushy post in appreciation of the ridiculously dorky-yet-sexy Nutella ads featuring members of the German national team. If you remember that post, I don't need to tell you that Mats is utterly lush. He is what Orlando Bloom could have been with higher quality parts, better production standards, and an extra four to five inches (of height, I'm talking about height, dammit). I spent most of the weekend chewing on my fingernails, wishing most desperately that Mats would be included in the final team list, and joy of joys! He will be playing in the tournament this time. The guy is a fabulously talented defender in his own right, and I wish great things for him in his life. I also wish to one day get in his pants. That should be on his list of career aspirations. Someone call his agent, quick!



Mats is totally down with this plan, you guys. Also I think I finally figured out how to make animated gif images work on Blogger. YES.


Benedikt Höwedes [Germany / Defender]

You gotta love a good solid German name with an umlaut. Benedikt is also a n00b to major international tournaments, but has already more than proved his mettle as an athlete and a leader in the German national league. Also he is the most adorable thing I have ever seen with the exception of Russia's Andrei Arshavin.

But my favourite thing about him is that he comes in a bromantic package along with Hummels, and it is too sweet for words.


Let the bro-lovin' commence!



Group C

You can always count on the Spanish national team to come through for you in the hotness department. Always. Though I find most of the players to be far too vain and self-absorbed for their own good, it never hurts to ogle.



Xabi Alonso [Spain/ Midfield]

Xabi Alonso is quite simply the classiest motherfucker to exist in the world of football today. He can rock your standard football jersey and shorts and make it look like a freshly tailored Armani three-piece suit. And he can pull off the real deal pretty well, in case you were wondering. The man just oozes elegance from every pore. And in a sport rife with prima donnas and petty fights and sneaky cheat attempts at every turn, here we have a man of class and principle and intelligence who will not dabble in bullshit of any kind, and also has great hair. It's a hard combination to resist.


Iker Casillas [Spain/Goalkeeper]

This guy - nay, this man, has been on my To Do list since pretty much two weeks after I hit puberty (and I was early, so you can imagine how longstanding this affair has been). This glorious hunk of manflesh has been guarding the posts of the Spanish goal in a magnificent fashion for the last 10 years, and has been getting finer and finer with the passage of time. And if Benedikt Ho(umlaut)wedes can have multiple pictures in one post, then so can Iker.



This shot of Iker bawling his eyes out after Spain clinched the 2010 World Cup is one of my favourite things in life. COME HERE AND LET ME LOVE YOU THE WAY YOU DESERVE TO BE LOVED. 





Jesus Navas [Spain / Forward]

Not entirely my type, but I feel like I have to include him because those eyes. The eyes. You might have noticed them. They are RIDICULOUS and should be illegal. Those ocular receptors probably have the power to stun opposing defenders into immobility, and send goalkeepers swooning away in the wrong direction. Daaaamn, Jesus.



Group D

France has pleasantly surprised me this time, by actually - and for once - living up to their sexy reputation and  providing subjects for dry humping fantasies.


Yoann Gourcuff [France/Midfield]

Yoann Gourcuff almost suffers from being really way too pretty for his own good, but it is rare that we come across such a finely crafted physique in international football. There is an elegant, almost classic quality to his beauty, enhanced by how the coal-black shade of his hair contrasts so becomingly with the paleness of his complexion and how stunningly flattering the lighting is in this shot and what I am basically saying here is that Yoann you are very pretty and we should bone or something, oui? 



Olivier Giroud [France / Forward]

I really know next to nothing about this guy but ooooh la la, OM NOM NOM, get in the pants, and so on.




Euro 2012 kicks off in just about 10 days, and I hope everyone enjoys a month of great football and assorted exquisite specimens of masculinity. I am especially looking forward to the gems and nuggets of sexiness I may have overlooked in the process of putting this post together. BRING ON THE DUDES, EUROPE.

[all composite/collage images of the Euro '12 groups snagged from here]

It's Just A Life Story, So There's No Climax/ No More New Territory, So Put Away The IMAX

I turn 21 in a couple of days, and I'm still waiting to see if it's going to feel particularly milestone-y. I know for a fact that it will not be a night of drunken debauchery ; I will be in classes from 8am to 6pm, followed by a pizza dinner with the family back home. But who knows, if I'm feeling really wild, I might toss in an all-night Supernatural marathon. I'm such a crazy kid, you guys!

"These are the best years of your life, appreciate them while you still can" is something I've been hearing a lot lately, and though I understand the sentiment, I hope like hell it isn't true. Sure, I see where the philosophy comes from ; we are technically adults, but without any actual adult responsibilities just yet. Not much responsibility beyond getting to classes on time, remembering to feed yourself, and writing an essay or two. And maybe showering twice a week. This is when we're meant to make mistakes, try insane new things, learn to do all the chores we never bothered doing properly at home (and somehow still get it all wrong), and stay up till six in the morning reading slash fan fiction just because we bloody well can.

But here's the thing - I sincerely do not want my university years to be the best times I will ever have. I'm having fun, but if my life is really going to peak by the time I'm 24? That's just depressing. If all goes well, I have decades and decades of time left, and there are plenty of things to see and do and experience and learn as I get older. Seriously (certain) adults, stop insinuating that every year of my life, post-graduation, is going to be some long downhill slog into the realms of existential despair, regret, bitterness and resentment. I'm still trying to get used to the fact that there is no longer the need to say "____teen" when telling anyone how old I am.



Let me just add that as I was discussing these matters of life and growing up with Sue Fyenn some weeks ago, this Okkervil River song (containing the lyrics which make up the title of this post) immediately started playing on the good old shuffle playlist. Way to get me down. iTunes is such a troll sometimes.


Rugbying Update :Today was the final of the rugby World Cup, and New Zealand won, just like I wanted them to. It's only the second time they have clinched the trophy in nearly 25 years, and a well-deserved victory it was.


CONFETTI! FLAMES! EVERYONE GET IN MY BED!

New Zealand, I congratulate you on this tremendous achievement. I congratulate you on your discipline, persistence, sportsmanship, heart, athleticism and courage. I also congratulate you on having the highest concentration of players I really want to bone, out of any rugby team on the planet. Especially Dan Carter.



Um dude, seriously. Get off that bench, take the rest of your clothes off, call your extremely sexually attractive friends over, and bring the exotic oils. It's fun time, mofo.

I should also mention that their opponents, France, put up a highly commendable fight (and actually probably deserved to win on the day) and also introduced to me Francois Trinh-Duc. He is very pretty, in that really French way, if you know what I mean. He is very good at kicking rugby balls, and sometimes also running with the ball. He is extra good at looking pretty while running and/or kicking a rugby ball.


That's Francois on the right. I don't know who those two guys in the other frame are, or if they are on the French rugby team, but they are tres chic and I like their man-bags and their fashionable nonchalance.

Francois is also of Vietnamese heritage, which is something the ESPN commentators kept mentioning throughout the game. It's all nice and interesting, but after a while I just got the impression that ESPN thought we were obligated to love the guy on principle, because HE IS ASIAN AND EXOTIC JUST LIKE US. I facepalm at you, ESPN. Also, I do like Francoise Trinh-Duc, but not because of his ethnic heritage ; I like him because he is so goddamned pretty, 25% South-East Asian blood or not. So there.

A Guide To The 2011 Rugby World Cup : For N00bs, by a N00b.

I initially thought it would not be ideal to have two sports-related posts so close together, but as the Rugby World Cup is moving on to the business end of the tournament (quarter-final fixtures await us this weekend, and I am actually quite excited about it), I thought now would be a good time to share some of the knowledge I have gathered over the last two weekends or so of incessant rugbying. Sit back and prepare to be enlightened.

1. Basic rules of rugbying.

Rugby rules are insanely complicated, detailed and full of technicalities, so I'm just sticking with the very basic principles of the game which I've managed to pick up so far.

Players


15 players from each team take to the pitch, with substitutions taking place as needed, with little or no fuss. But because everyone is so bloody huge, it looks like there are about 70 of them running around, and it is very scary. There are also extremely weird playing positions like scrum half, loose head prop and someone called a hooker. Don't worry, his job is just to hook balls during scrums. Which actually sounds a lot dirtier than it is.


Passing
These guys must then pass the rugby ball to each other, while either totally avoiding tackles or trying to survive attempts to crush them to death (sometimes by their own team mates), and try to score by carrying said ball over their opponent's goal line. But here's the catch ; they're not allowed to pass forwards - only backwards, or to another player on a level position. Occassionally kicking the ball forwards, however, is acceptable. It took me a while to understand why these idiots didn't just throw the damned ball straight in front and make everyone's lives easier.


Tackling



It's pretty much a free-for-all brawl, where anything and everything except attacking above the neck is allowed. So this means scratching, punching, elbowing, kicking, grabbing, pulling, nipple-twisting, pummelling, choking (well okay maybe not that), and lying on top of someone until they let you have the ball, is totally legit. I don't even understand how the referee manages to call out a foul or a penalty in the midst of this testosterone-fuelled stampede, because to my n00b eyes, everyone on that pitch is trying to kill everyone else. Blood is common, injuries are aplenty, which naturally leads to heroic, manly displays of "I will ignore this waterfall of blood cascading down my nose/this very possibly broken ankle/these intestines spilling out my stomach/etc. and play on for my COUNTRY". And I won't lie ; sometimes...sometimes...it's kind of hot.


Scoring
Carrying the ball over the opponent's goal line and "grounding" it, is called a "try" (or what the Americans refer to as a "TOUCHDOWWWNN!") and is worth 3 points. Or was it 2? Maybe 5. I don't remember. Once a team has scored a try, they are then given the chance to "convert" the try to gain additional points.


This conversion comes in the form of a free and open shot at goal, a task usually undertaken by the team's designated kicker. The kicker, whose primary job it is to kick the ball a lot (as you can imagine) also has the least physical role on a rugby pitch, which means he is typically much smaller and leaner than everyone else, and not bulked up to caveman-esque proportions. As a rule he is also the best-looking guy on the field. I really like kickers. As you can imagine.


This exquisite specimen you see here is Irish kicker Ronan O'Gara. He kicks rugby balls for Ireland, and looks delicious the whole time he's doing it.


Scrums


I am still not entirely sure what a scrum is all about, but it involves a certain number of players from each team all crouching together and bending over each other, and then attempting to physically bulldoze the other guys away from the ball and as far across the field as possible before everyone collapses on each other and the punching and pulling and flailing starts. I'm sure there is a point to all this.


Mauls
Again, I'm not too sure what a maul is. And I don't think I really want to see one. I can assure you that it is probably extremely violent, though.


2. Rugby jerseys
Even the n00biest of you would have noticed that rugby players don extremely tight, body-hugging clothes. I assume it serves some practical purpose, like making it harder for an opponent to grab a fistful of your shirt and pull you down or whatever. Or, you know,making it easier for people like me to objectify rubgy player asses.



3. Sonny Bill Williams




This is Sonny Bill Williams. He has lots of tattoos, plays for New Zealand, and is supermegafoxyawesomehot. You're welcome.



Oh Sonny. You had me at ripped shirt.

For the record, New Zealand probably has the most attractive team still left in the competition. Meet Dan Carter, for example.


I know. You're welcome.




4. Rugby players are really nice.
Rugby players, for all their barbaric violence, are actually an extremely refined lot, with a great sense of respect for authority, especially when compared to football players. You won't hear any swearing directed at match officials (only "Yes sir"s, "No sir"s and "I apologize, sir"s). They are generally calm, approachable, even-tempered, and only rarely allow frustration or anger to get the best of them. Faking injuries to gain penalties or other benefits is pretty much unheard of - if you're injured in a rugby game, it had better mean you're swimming in a pool of your own blood, preferably with a limb or two dangling out of the sockets.



When these guys shake hands with opposing players, there is eye contact and a real sense of mutual respect. Their post-game interview answers are well-thought out, considerate, soft-spoken and articulate. They actually acknowledge the supporters, regardless of the game's result (and to give credit where it is due, the rugby crowd is also an extremely lovely, affable, friendly lot). Despite the black eyes, cut lips, missing teeth, ripped shirts and saliva-drenched mouth guards, I just get the impression that these guys all go back to their team changing rooms and drink jasmine tea from china cups with their pinky fingers sticking out. So precious.


5. The Haka
Most of the Pacific Island national teams (Tonga, Samoa) have the tradition of performing tribal war dances to intimidate their opponents before every match. It has become sort of a cultural institution within international rugby, and it's easily one of my favourite things about this year's tournament. The only remaining team that still performs the Haka is New Zealand (it is also 37% of the reason why I'm backing them to win ; the other 42% is because of the ridiculously sexy all black outfits, and the remaining 21% is for Sonny Bill Williams. Mmmm Sonny Bill Williams).



Call it cheesy, outdated or irrelevant. You cannot deny the badassery. Especially since these guys legitimately do kick asses left and right, so they've pretty much earned the right to do all the goddamned dancing they want.


6. The teams.
Eight teams remain, and I will be extending my long-distance moral support to the Irish, the Kiwis, and maybe England (it's a bit of a stretch though). Australia, South Africa, France, Wales and Argentina make up the rest of the final eight, and what little knowledge I have of rugby tells me that the Aussies and South Africans are utter powerhouse legends in the sport, and the odds favour them heavily.
But New Zealand should totally win because they are so hot - I mean so talented, so talented.


I'm actually enjoying the sport of rugby a great deal more than I ever thought I would, and I find myself already wondering what I'll be doing with myself when the tournament is over.



edit : On another note, let us all mourn the groin injury of New Zealand flyhalf Dan Carter, which has effectively ruled him out of the rest of the tournament. Say goodbye to these pecs (and other parts) for the next four years, you guys.


It's not fair. He gets bruised, battered and pummelled for a living and he is still that pretty?

Here Are Six Really Convincing Reasons To Start Watching German Football. Really.

If you are a fan of the soccerball in Malaysia, like myself,  it's very likely that the British league holds 99% of your attention, with the Spanish and Italian leagues hovering somewhere on the fringes of your sports-related consciousness. It is the English teams that sell the most (fake) merchandise, have the largest legions of fans proclaiming eternal loyalty to a different team every two months, and it is the English game scores that dominate all school and workplace conversations come Monday morning.

   Over the holidays, however, my brother developed an affinity for the German football league, or the Bundesliga, which I did not even know we had on satellite TV. I recognized quite a few members of the German national team from the World Cup, and decided to give one or two games a shot. At the end of that month, I decided that the Bundesliga, despite the slightly hilarious name, was definitely something worth investing in, and here's why;


1. The German league is not astronomically famous, so the concept of having superstars on Beckham-esque levels hasn't really set in. The very German philosophy of "the star is the team" can be seen right down to the jersey designs for most football clubs there, where the players' names are printed on the bottom of the shirts, and the team's name on the top. Or indeed, the fact that the team's name is on the back of the jersey at all. I dig it.



Or maybe that's just how shirts are traditionally made in Germany, I don't know. But this attitude of never putting an individual player on too high of a pedestal seems to have resulted in a very significant observation ; there appears to be fewer entitled arrogant douchebags on the pitch, and consequently also much fewer occurrences of entitled arrogant douchebag behaviour.


2. After 10 years or so, I would think even the most die-hard follower of the English leagues would be bored and just a little bit jaded by now ; the same famous faces every season, the same teams dominating, the same teams losing, the same drama. If you're new to German football, it really is a very refreshing experience. It's unpredictable and a real competition in every sense ; there have been three different title winners in the last three years alone. It is literally anyone's game in Germany, and the fact that you can never place a sure bet on the same team every season is hella exciting.

3. In the Bundesliga, the fan is king. Ticket prices and fan attendance are the lowest and highest, respectively, of any soccerball league in Europe. Even if you don't watch the sport at all, massive respect is due for the way these people run their business. It's also something that seems to have seeped into the players as well ; I have rarely seen this happen in an English league match.


However insignificant the match is in the larger scheme of things, the winning team goes over to whichever end of the stadium in which their supporters are camped out, and shows some much deserved love and appreciation. I was very impressed when I first saw this happen. Also I may or may not have been completely overwhelmed by warm fuzzies.

4. Mats Hummels . He is the 23 year old defender for Borussia Dortmund, widely hailed as one of the best young players in his position -
Oh no, I'm sorry. Let me just skip ahead to the relevant bit.

This is what he looks like. And don't lie, you know this is what you're here for. 

Hey baby, did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?

Mats is friggin' adorable, you guys. Not that there is a lack of cute players in other national leagues, but I happen to be completely smitten with this young man, and for the next few weeks or so, no other male on the  planet is going to cut it for me. That dimpled smile, that hair you just want to run your fingers through... I bet it has the texture of heavenly clouds shot through with celestial silk woven by the angels or something. I admit I wasn't feeling the love in the beginning - he looked more than a little sleazy. But a few Google sessions later and I was completely sold. This guy has the distinction of quite literally making me squeal audibly every time he smiles, and I don't squeal. Ever. I did not even squeal at Michael Fassbender in that black turtleneck. This is serious business.

Such a goddamn boss. Of adorableness.

To be fair (and less superficial) Mats is also very good at his full-time job (preventing goals from happening) and his part-time job (sometimes making goals happen) and his life-time job (being delicious).

Orlando Bloom, is that you?

Welcome to my ever-growing list of unattainable husbands, Mr. Hummels. I really hope he makes it on the senior German national team by the next World Cup, because he deserves it, and also because we can never have enough hotnessess  to look at during major sports tournaments.

Apparently he's so hot he breathes steam, oh my lord.



5. Mario Gomez. Because that is totally a German name. He is the striker for Bayern Munich and the German national team, which means we have met before, but I never got the chance to really sit down and stare at his German-Spanish (Gernish?) ass until very recently, and I think I like what I see.

Mario Gomez is somewhat disappointing at his full-time job (making goals happen), satisfactory at his part-time job (sometimes stopping goals from happening) and completely ace at his life-time career of being sex on a Deutsche stick (did I use that word right? Does it matter? He's hot).

I have heard a professional male commentator once refer to him as an Adonis. I kid you not. It was hilarious. Also, it's rather easy to spot a Mario Gomez after the match ; he'll most likely be the only one traipsing around with a bare torso, sweat-drenched shirt slung over one shoulder. Not that I mind. Not that I mind at all.

Back away from my man, No.10.

6. I can't really think of a sixth reason, so here are some members of the German national team (including Mats! HI MATS!) indulging in some dorky yet delicious breakfast-themed product placement. Cute footballers and chocolate hazelnut concoctions! But this is ridiculous! That Nutella is spread on all the wrong places here. Bread? For shame. Like, I'm talking Nutella on German footballers. Nutella all over German footballers. A naked filthy goddamned Nutella shower. Am I right? Hells yeah!! You're not doing it right, advertisers.



It is my professional opinion that this ad campaign needs less clothes.

So concludes my extremely convincing post on why German league football is worth your time, soccer fans. Shirtless Sexy Rock-climbing Mats says auf Wiedersehen, and promises to grace the rest of our days with his talent and Teutonic beauty.

BAP's Guide to Euro 2008

My personal thoughts on all 16 competing teams. At first I thought this would be too much bother, but this competition only rolls around for one measly month every four years, and it is widely considered to be much harder to win than the World Cup. So. Why not?


I warn you that the following may contain traces of horniness, biased opinion, pure ignorance, indifference and very little credible sports analysis.

We shall start with Austria and Switzerland. As co-hosts, these two countries receive automatic qualification.

Austria
The bigshots of Austrian football ( or soccer, whichever suits your fancy) actually requested , or maybe even begged, FIFA to allow them to withdraw from the competition, claiming that their playing standards were nowhere near what is needed for this kind of international gig. But they're here anyway.
Enough said.


Switzerland

They have the dubious honour of being the only national team in the history of the World Cup to have been knocked out at the group stages without having conceded a goal. That's like a compliment wrapped around a sucker punch. Likely to do only marginally better than their co-hosts, Austria.


Spain

The perennial underachievers. It's about time they won something, too. I mean, they have all the pretty players on their side. And they all play pretty football. It's like their own prettiness distracts them at some point, and that's when they start doing things like failing spectacularly and snatching defeat from the jaws of victory.
But in all seriousness. It's about time. *cough*England*cough*


Czech Republic




I love this team, for various perverted reasons, as some people could testify to. But I do not want them to win this time around. They can go to the finals and everything, they're capable of it, but they mustn't win. Tomas Rosicky is injured and he's not playing. To win the Euros without him isn't exactly impossible, but I would consider it a travesty. Euro 2012 perhaps?




Holland

I never really liked this side. But their shirts are such a terrifically awesome shade of orange that it would be hard to say a word against them.

Germany

My default adopted-country team. I remember being in Standard Six, and being the only person in my entire class who wanted Germany to win the WC final against Brazil, and I even put down what was left of my lunch money on that result (yes, I gambled at age 12. It was only twenty cents anyway). Germany lost, I was to be the butt of future football-related jokes, but I came away from it all with an odd sense of Teutonic loyalty. And five years later, still a pseudo-German, despite stupid things some people say, like "Eeek you're supporting a Nazi team, how could you??". Gosh. Grow up. Half of the guys on that team are Polish anyway.
And let's not forget the German Under-17 team, who are blessed with insane gorgoeusness. I'd go after that bunch but somebody may convict me on a rape charge. So. Give them a couple of years and we'll have some proper eye-candy in the senior team as well.



Italy

They already won the bleeeding World Cup just last year! They don't need another trophy, the greedy little bitches.


France

They're boring. I'm sorry, they may be good, but they've always bored me senseless. If they win, or lose, or all die of food poisoning, or get swallowed up in an avalanche, or score 345 goals in 45 minutes, it simply would not interest me. They're that dull.


Croatia

The red and white check pattern makes me happy. Watching Croatia makes me happy. Their coach is awesome. He has his ear pirced. That makes me happy. If they won, I'd be happy too. Luka Modric looks like an elf crossed with a Hobbit crossed with a mouse . That makes me happy too.





Greece


The winners of the last tournament. I don't know much about them except that their names would make for some killer Spelling Bee tournos.


Romania





I can only think of vampires, for some reason. The thought of Romanians playing football under the sun is a little odd, but they qualified, which is a lot more than a lot of countries could say. *cough*England*cough*.



Russia

They just got flattened 4-1 by the Spaniards this morning, so it's not looking too good. Their names would make for killer Spelling Bees too.









Turkey

Call me an ass, but I was never really ever sure whether Turkey was officially part of Asia or Europe. My doubts have now been assuaged, obviously. There is also some Turk dude playing on the Swiss team. I wonder why he ran away?










Poland



The team that qualifies for everything but leaves without ever making an impact. I don't want to be mean, but the Poles look like they showed up just to make the numbers. Again.




Sweden

I like watching Sweden. They're boring as hell most of the time, but there's something enthralling about watching that many blond people running around together on a field. Capable but unlikely winners.


Portugal





Quite possibly the only team I actually dislike, no thanks to the presence of a certain Christiano Ronaldo. If I have to see his face on another magazine cover I shall projectile vomit all over it.




England



They--oh I'm sorry. They didn't qualify, did they? They have, arguably, the best players in the world, but the sheer weight of their collective and individual ego just drag them down all the time. Maybe after this team are all dead and gone, they can start thinking about trophies. It is very strange to watch a tournament like this without England in it, though.










BAP's Ultimate Prediction
England won't win this either.

edit ; My mistake, Italy won the World Cup two years ago, not last year.
They're still being greedy little bitches though.