Italy 2 Czech Republic 0; Ghana 2 USA 1; Brazil 4 Japan 1; Australia 2 Croatia 2

To the horny bisexual person in an orgy,

Where to start? Who to begin with?

Did the “real” group of death provide enough entertainment so that the hot nubile babysitter will watch the match on my lap whilst my wife is away Amexing their savings away?

Was there miracle in Dortmund or a mayhem in Stuttgart?

Or did Ryu come home feeling slightly more than dreadful and shitty combined and slowly divided by “why bother?”

Is he okay?

I guess it’s time to find out (hooray!).

Group E
Italy2
Czech Republic 0

Group E
Ghana 2
USA 1

I thought I do the two matches little bit live/simultaneously. Although the excitement was a 40 year old virgin with a whore, the two of them were matches made in football heaven.

Oh, it’s a bit 24ish.

(music please)

4:00PM BT (Bratwurst Time)
Two matches kick off almost simultaneously, with the the Ghana V USA match starting a wee bit slower. Doesn’t make this match less important, but it was just a bit slower to start. No Davinci Code here.

4:22PM ST (Schinken Time)
Ghana strikes first and foremost. By the way, Ghana was missing 2 of their mildly hot playa’ hata’ in Gyan and Muntari. Nevertheless, Dramani robs the white and black from the absent minded Reyna and whilst in action decides that he needs an early shower. Crumpled Reyna in his rear view mirror, he thumps one past the unintentionally hairless premiership goalie. As a bonus, Reyna goes home early.
At this point, Ghana in and Italy in.

4:26PM BT (come on, Bier Time)
Nesta, the rock of Berlusconi’s pet, is out with some mysterious disease. I’m sure he was busy pre-celebrating with a half woman, half not so good woman. The tower of power comes in and his second touch is Midas. Although his primary job is to keep the house clean, a Totti left corner kick is met with delicate decisiveness beyond the greedy mitts of Chelski’s numero uno. Why the Czech defence decided to not put a player each on the post will forever be a Bermuda to me, but hey, they must know what they’re doing.
At this point, Ghana still in and Italy definitely in.

4:43ET (Eisbein Time)
Baros looks forlorn and lonely as if he was not allowed to play in a game of “you’re not fit enough to score and we won’t support you anyway.” Why he remained up front on his own and why Rosicky was fucking almost in front of the back four and...oh sorry, it’s time for the “yuu ess ayight”. Before the American heroics a katana like pass from another Chelski man catapults my favourite name of the tournament in Pimpong. He shoots wide. End of story, but not for the super duper Americanos. Beasley rams in a la “the Bus” into a small heap of Ghana defence. There’s something lost in translation and they give the ball back to Beasley. He carries forward and unleashes a speedy yet slightly offside grounder to the fast approaching Dempsey. Not Jack but Clint, but not Eastwood. He cannons a blinder and 1/1,000,000th of the state population cannot hide their excitement.
At this point, Ghana still in (again) and Italy also still in.

4:45ST (Schade Time)
Two events occurred as if the small evil men with the whistles have synchronized their watches prior to the start of their respective matches. As the 1st half draws to a close, the World Police is having a inappropriately difficult time getting the ball out of their area. American right full back skies the ball and Onyewu confronts my man Pimpong inside the box. A normal confrontation without the brandishing of high voltage gadgetry or sharp edged blunt objects. Believe me, I’ve seen much much worse in my 30 year life in the box than what Herr Merk saw. A penalty.

Meanwhile the Viagra less Czech Republic offence searches for an equaliser, but just as the oldest manager of the World Cup is thinking “Why didn’t I think about putting two strikers up front and supporting them with couple of midfielders, damn, I’m a fucking genius”, tragedy strikes. Already on thin yellow ice, Polak (I checked, he’s not Polish) decides to guarantee some type of self-inflicted retribution when he goes home tomorrow. A irresponsible teenage angst of a tackle delivers the second yellow and the already desperate Czech are down to 10 men.

Appiah shoots, Appiah scores.
At this point, Ghana in (really?) and Italy easily in.

The second half was devoid of any back hair rasing action and try as they try and tried, both the states and republic could not find any more fuel in their fuselage. Italy adds another one with the most self-indulgent football family in Italy capping his 50th cap with a sneaky goal.

As for the Czechs, the sending off did hurt, but losing the bald giant in the 1st match, losing a prominent defender in Ujfalusi in the 2nd match, and having a Detroitesque bench did not help matters. We say goodbye and get a haircut and of course, miss you badly to the man who made Czech Republic known for its football rather than the small headed hot women and the tasty blond beer. Thanks for the memory, Pavel, but we won’t miss your hair.

And the Americans? Over hyped for no good reason. Yes, it was a difficult group and yes, they were unlucky in several occasions. But definitely NO in their overall performance. Got to work much harder to earn some respect for your number 5 spot. Hey, football season’s on its way.

Italians are looking less than spectacular, but with the ability to do a so so job and getting so so results, they may be going so so where.

Last but not least, please give it up to the first and perhaps the last African nation to make it into the sweet 16. Although their next foe is, well, you know, at least they can happily intoxicate themselves with the sweet nectar of victory, you know, until next Tuesday around 7:00PM local time. With the youngest squad in this tournament, (BTW, Essien will be out next match with one too many jaundice), I’d like to see the Black Stars again in South Africa.

The group finished like so:

1. Italy 3 4 7
2. Ghana 3 1 6
3. Czech Republic 3 -1 3
4. USA 3 -4 1

Brackets looking like:

Germany V Sweden

Argentina V Mexico

England V Ecuador

Portugal V Holland

Italy V Runner up F

Winner G V Runner up H

Winner F V Ghana

Winner H V Runner up G

Group F
Brazil 4
Japan 1

Group F
Croatia 2
Australia 2

This group went on to have the same drama for the mama as its neighbour and its only fitting to see it through in the same catwalk sans the elaborate time naming.

9:03PM
“Why aren’t you being cute with your time, Ryu?” Because this is do the miracle or go home in the bus and having Brazilian or Aussie onlookers making you think that they are sniggering at you behind your helpless and pitiful and loser back. Or it could be that the time thing wasn’t as funny as I originally thought it would be. Moving gingerly on.

Croatia strikes first into the land of the triple B (beer, beach, and...ask Anup), with a delightful free kick. The man who gave Kawaguchi a chance to be a mini-hero thinks he’s got a better chance of scoring if he is located outside the box and a wall of roos standing slightly agitated. The curler beats the wall and gets sucked into the top right corner. By the way, no matter what Bautz and Jackie get up to in their spare time away from 360, Brazil are going to the sweet 16. These two matches are here to decide who gets to curl themselves in a sea of penne.
Croatia in.

9:33PM
Hope is a wild and quirky Menon. At times it cuddles up to you like a soft fluffy bunny like substance (no red eyes) and moments later it will tear you apart and leave you with a dime in a dirty Styrofoam cup. It’s what we want and it’s what we hate. But if you had a choice, you want it because when you are full of hope, nothing in this world created by carbon is impossible.
With Takahara and twat with no left leg getting the sack from the worst possible Japanese manager of all time, Maki who is brilliantly coached by Ivica Osim (one of the top 5 managers of all time, a great man, be sure to Wikipedia him) and Tamada who I think is as useless as the other two who got the pink slip spear head the offence. With Kawaguchi born again as Cerberus, shots after shots from the magnificent 10 (Dida isn’t that good) were laid to waste one after the other.

Then it happened. Alex, who made a smart move of becoming Japanese when he knew that he would never make it into the “real” national team, streaks across the Brazilian box (man, this pattern always sounds kinky) and slips a coy one to Tamada who finishes emphatically and as you can imagine, Japan cums. Hope is born.
Croatia in.

9:39PM
For some odd reason, Tomas of Croatia tries out his hand of god routine inside his own box. Obviously Moore sinks the ensuing penalty to rejoice the birth of their own hope
Australia in.

9:45PM
Overrated or overweight? Well whatever I say or you say or your mom says, say no more. Only a second remaining before the hafl, Bucky’s cross is spot on for Real’s future right back. His header is neat and tidy, which is immediately laid claim but who else, Fatty. With Fatty imitating Orpheus, bullet time arrives in haste and the ball delicately glides passed the sleeping Cerberus.
Hope has eaten after midnight and you know you should never do that.
Australia in.

9:53PM
Gilberto gives it up to Juninho and the rocket screams through the hands of Kawaguchi. Hope decides to call it a day.
Australia in.

9:56PM
Kovac sends a astonishingly normal shot to the Aussie goal and Schwarzer being the drama queen, let’s it go in. Australia’s Hope seems grumpy.
Croatia in.

9:59PM
Wit no one around Gilberto just shoots and the ball goes in. Japan finally realizes that they are in the world cup and they are playing against the defending world champion.
Croatia in.

9:79PM
A Bresciano cross is bobbled teasingly in front of the goal by another anonymous Australian and Potter sends a Patronus into the goal, but then it didn’t look like a horse.
Hope just needed some attention.
Australia in.

9:81PM
A history is smeared with lard. Juan decides that he too wants a piece of sushi as he one-twos his way into the danger zone. Japan’s origami defence is no match for Juan’s desire to be mentioned in my blog and the final link up of this gorgeous link up crescendo’s with Fatty’s 14th goal of the world cup. This is like Bonds tying Aaron and Fatty is joint top with Bomber Mueller.
Australia in.

10:00PM
Time up and with some sort of Aboriginal mumbo jumbo, Hope turns into a ticket for the Aussie’s first ever sweet 16. Japan and Croatia set off for their undeserving summer holiday.

You might be curious as to why the latter part of this mail has suddenly become, how to say this, less passionate. Well, my dear friend it’s 3:11AM and I’m tired and in a way I’m glad we’re not going to the sweet 16. No sour dough, but this may have been the only way for Japan to realize that we actually suck. Goodbye Zico, we won’t miss you.

I’m sure you want to know about Brazil. Since they had basically “whatevered” this match, it’s really hard to gauge their level of play. But this match against Japan might be the kick in the buttocks they craved for. With Fatty seeming to find his greasy feet, let’s see if they can slip and slide their way past the black stars.

Group looks like:

1. Brazil 3 6 9
2. Australia 3 0 4
3. Croatia 3 -1 2
4. Japan 3 -5 1

For the bracketologist:

Brackets looking like:

Germany V Sweden

Argentina V Mexico

England V Ecuador

Portugal V Holland

Italy V Australia

Winner G V Runner up H

Brazil V Ghana

Winner H V Runner up G

Ryu’s “Congratulations...fuckers” goal of the day: I have to give it to our next door neighbour from next year. Kewell’s tying goal to seal the Roos path to the sweet 16 is sweet.

Tomorrow brings us the last day of the group stage as the sort of Orange revolution take on the people who are going home and at the same time, towel heads are eating paella with some sangria.
The evening takes you on a ride with fondue and kimchi, topped up with the togo go go a go and the team desperate to do something productive before everyone in the country decides that the rugby team is better.

Watch it.