A Greek Trajedy

After a week filled with pain and grief (see pic) I finally feel that I am ready to talk about the unfortunate events that took place at the Olympic stadium in Athens. The scene was set, after slaying the mighty Catalans and disposing of the czar’s army with an obnoxiously arrogant manager the mighty reds entered into a repeat of the 2005 final. Another David vs Goliath encounter. Apparently history does not repeat itself and god is Italian or to be more precise Milanese.
But this is not about a match, not even one as important as the champions league. As you all know I have been singled out as Liverpool FC’s official representative in Roorkee. Anytime they loose I meet about a million people in my short commute from the department to Ravindra who try to rub it in my face. I would be lying if I said it didn’t affect me because it does and it should. What really gets on my nerves is that most of these people could not differentiate between a red card and a green card, which is to say that they know nothing about football (especially the ones that have joined the football fans community on orkut- how phony can you get?) and are just trying to lessen the misery of their pathetic existence by adding to mine.
But this is also not about the miserable people of Roorkee who find solace in the suffering of their fellow brethren. This is about why I so ardently support a club from the windy port on the north west coast of England. It certainly does not have the best players, nor has it been that successful in recent years, it is because the team collectively has a habit of playing better than they are supposed to (with the help of its supporters) and beat far better opponents that one time. It is on such a team that sport movies are made not on a team, which wins over and over again, it is the reason why we still remember that Bangladesh defeated Australia and why the memory of Istanbul will far outlive that of Athens even for the Milanese.
Reading this you would feel that its alright if they loose as long as they win every once in a while, well if you do you couldn’t be more wrong and now even I don’t know what this is about. Its complicated you see, football is not a matter of life and death, its much more than that.

Pinky and The Brains

Let me set this up for you: It’s the first day of the year and after pissing what can only be described as a very acidic mixture of vodka and urea me and my homies decided to go slow on the ethanol. But it turned out to be a lousy day so we ended up drinking and watching the diaper laden red devils taking on the gay magpies on a projector while enjoying the now familiar display of the human anatomy on the beach. Somehow and I honestly do not have a clue how, I found myself sitting alone outside on the beach staring across a pathway into the shack were they were showing the match.

There are 3 major players in the next scene, Pinky (the girl), Brain1 (the part of my brain responsible for my actions and thoughts), Brain2 (the part which basically acts as an advocate for my genitals)

I am sitting and bending low to catch a better view of the screen as a pair of really good legs sporting a denim mini skirt walk past.
Brain2: she was hot.
Brain1: WHAT? We just saw her legs she could be really ugly for all u know.
Brain2: don’t ruin it for me. God I love mini skirts.

As it turns out the nice pair of legs had an equally nice if not nicer upper half and as a collective entity constituted one smokin’ hottie. This unit will henceforth be referred to as Pinky. The odd thing was Pinky was standing in what appeared to be the middle of no mans land about six feet away from me staring in a million different directions and swaying about thirty degrees back and forth.
Brain1: what the heck is she doing?
Brain2: well, do you see anybody around you?

There was nobody within twenty feet
Brain1: no but, whats that got to do with it?
Brain2: man you are really stupid

Somebody somewhere turned on a light bulb and that’s when I realized that in my bewilderment I was staring at her and she was smiling at me and of course I was smiling back
Brain1: what the heck are you smiling for? You are making a complete idiot of yourself. just stare at the giant screen and pretend to watch the match.
Brain2: stare at the screen!!!!! Why don’t you donate your balls to medical science I am sure they can find a use for them you certainly can’t?
Brain1: you are right I have to come up with a good line, something witty and funny, something that will sweep her of her feet.
Brain2: you can tell her grandkids about it coz u certainly won’t be having any, there’s no time go simple.

At this instant as if acting as an angel sent from god an equally hot chick also wearing a denim mini skirt runs past me and hugs pinky from behind in a manner that could melt a thousand glaciers all at once
Brain1&2(in unison): oh thank you dear lord for this wonderful day…

The prayer was cut short by a matter of fact “lets drink man” from one of my friends and on account of the fact that I am chicken I turned my attentions away from Pinky and she left (I did make a note of the general direction in which she went)
Brain2: STUPID STUPID, STUPID STUPID, STUPID

The night passed on, I even went to hunt her down, I don’t know why but I had to see her again. The hunt was unsuccessful I sat down at the bar and gulped down few tequila shots. And then it happened, it felt like it was destiny, ‘ you’re beautiful’ was playing (see lyrics) and she was walking towards the beach exit now wearing what can be described as a delightfully tight pink jacket over the fore mentioned denim skirt (hence the name)
With the wobbly feet reminiscent of a newly born goat I made my way steadily to cut her off. I reached her and said, ”excuse me”

Brain1: come up with a good line, something witty and funny, something that will sweep her of her feet.
Brain2: FOR THE LOVE OF GOD
Brain1: ok! Look around; find something

And that’s when I said my first and judging by its quality my last pick up line: ”where did you get these sandals” (in my defense, I was drunk). OH did I happen to mention that at this time she was standing there with 2 other girls and 3 other boys, who I presume were her friends and they considered it their moral responsibility to answere my question while she stood there smiling as I stared at her feet
Brain1&2(in unison): STUPID STUPID, STUPID STUPID STUPID, STUPID

I turned to go back knowing that I had blown it and that she bought the sandals from Mumbai and that I could get them at any shop in Anjuna and a lot of other stuff I didn’t want to know.
Brain1: maybe she is dumb she didn’t say a word you know and at least they didn’t hit you with the sandal
Brain2: STUPID STUPID, STUPID STUPID, STUPID
Turns out she wasn’t dumb coz as I turned back she called back, ”Excuse me”.
‘ya’
“ Happy New Year”
Brain1: man that smile can kill!!!
Brain2: STUPID STUPID, STUPID STUPID, STUPID


Now the jocks of this world (roorkee) may call this story pathetic and me a loser (which may not be entirely false) but at least I have a story to tell.