Universe of Rock

I'm going to make this my quest--to find out what he said that p'ed off Zizou so much.  Granted, he's known to be a hothead, but what would it take to make this icon of French soccer, at this moment, on this world stage--blow up and head butt?
"Hey, you know how I cut my nose?"
"Your Mama just called....."
"Eewwww. What's that smell?"
Anyway, if you have an idea (or would like to make one up) leave a comment here or send me an e-mail. Winner of the most imaginative gets a free Kronnenburg. Lord knows, I don't need it.  I don't drink any more. Not after this past month of debauchery. I'm going on a diet at my Rehab Center.
As Cuzzy says, "Back to real life. Sigh".
And another thing--how are we going to persuade Casey to keep blogging?
Any ideas?

Game 68 -- The Big One
France vs. Italy Score: Italy wins the World Cup 5-3 on penalties

Chez Rock
Biere: Kronenbourg
Birra: Moretti

We tossed ideas back and forth about where and how to watch the Final...how to get there, when to get there---how to get home? And then we realized we really wanted to see the game, and where better than on the big screen downstairs? Maybe we wouldn't have the ambiance of insane, boisterous crowds, but we knew we could round up a reprensentative, only slightly nutty bunch. Plus, as Jamie pointed out, the countries with the world's best food were playing each other, so his menu planning would be a dream.

Et alors, he laid out a table of antipasti and quiche, Italian and French cheeses and pate, croissants, and baguettes, Italian cookies....vino.....Buon Appetito!
We squeezed into the basement tv room - maybe 15 of us in all --but with a fan going and a few breaks, the carbon dioxide did not totally overcome us- and everyone had a nice clear view.
And what did they see? An initial fluster as the teams were a little agog, then a settling into some fine play. Zinedane on a penalty kick - and the Italians answered before the half on a marvelous header. Italy looked very powerful and dangerous.
In the seond half, France came on strong. Looked like they might make the most of their chances eventually...but then....but then...the cameras recorded the inexplicable, unbelievable head butt by ZiZou. .Will we ever know what prompted that? what he was thinking? The French had the talent left on the field to still win, but the red card turned the tide. Maybe it is instructive... if you attribute your success and inspiration to one person, .then when they are gone (or crack) the centre (literally and figuratively in this case) cannot hold.

And then it's a shootout, and everyone moans and clutches their hair. Not that the goalies stopped anything, either one, but you just knew that Buffon was more up to it. The Italians were more up to it. All month. All tournament. All day today.
(Rocco called from the Corso afterward. We could barely hear him on his cell over the noise. His cold seems just fine thank you very much.)

And this is your cub reporter signing off for now - thanks James for the guest gig on your blog. If anybody has any other quirky assignments...please let us know..
God bless Toronto!

Playing for Third
Germany vs. Portugal            Score: Germany 3   Portugal 1

Amadeus
Augusta Ave.
Kensington Market on a perfect summer Saturday afternoon

 We wondered initially what it would feel like to play for third. But then it occured to us that the opposite of consolation is desolation. Desolation is very bad. Consolation implies hope - you get to win one more time. But what a different game - what a different atmosphere - to play, and to be a fan, without the pressure of "going on". The crowd at Amadeus was much changed from our last foray there for the Argentina/Germany match. It still was crowded -we got there early to snag a seat - but our fellow viewers were a mixed bunch. Possibly they were more in favour of Portugal (there was much cheering at their lone goal, but it may have just been face-saving approval). Mostly people just wanted to see more soccer. All of us idlers are in denial that this time-out-of-time is soon coming to an end. We just want to see another game. There was a long table of older boozing gents of very mixed heritage, very loud, very full of opinions and arguments. The only thing they agreed on was their utter disdain for Vic Rauter as a commentator.

The first half was neither here nor there. The Portugese had their usual  flashes of wonderfulness, but simply could not finish. Kahn came back in goal for Germany and looked to be about nine feet tall and about as wide, with a visage like the Incredible Hulk. Then in the second half,  the wonderfully and appropriately named Schweinsteiger stuck it in the net two times and was responsible for another goal . The German determination to win must have been fueled enormously from the fan fervour in Stuttgart.

Our energy was stoked by a couple of Stellas and the engaging company of Daniel and Salvador. We beercycled home and did not encounter a single flag waving hornmeister. Ah, it is truly almost over.
Tomorrow, there will either be cacaphony throughout Toronto - or a big dance party on King St  West.
I may not sleep tonight.
Rocco has a bad cold and is feeling quite under the weather.
No surprises there.

Final Semi Final
France vs. Portugal Score: France 1 Portugal 0

"Incroyable!" is what the man from Paris said when the game was finished. He and his wife had gratefully squeezed in at our table as the match began. I think incredible had two meanings for him. First of course, that Les Bleus were going to the final - who knew - based on their indifferent beginnings and the mystery of the early wins. We remarked ourselves weeks ago on the existential defeatism of the French fans. But also "incroyable" because this man and his wife had chosen this week of all weeks to spend a first time ever seven day holiday in Toronto. Now they found themselves, most improbably, watching the home team in a small tricoloured enclave on King West. During the street party at the end he was scurrying around the crowd, camera in hand, with a delighted look on his face. (Now maybe every four years he will plan to watch the Cup in a different country...)

The fan base has certainly grown from the loyal bunch we saw play Togo. Yesterday they were charging a $10.00 cover (with a drink ticket) at Zazou, and it was crammed--tv cables, reporters, etc, so we sniffed at that and found a civilized environment (avec Fischer and frites!) downstairs at Le Saint Tropez. Rocco met us there because of course he must scope out the competition for Sunday. (Rocco actually talks when Italy isn't playing, so I learned a bunch of soccer stuff which is always great).
Rocco knew by half-time that Portugal was stumped by the French mid field and unless they came up with a different plan----no chance. And so it was, even with an exhausted French side by the end, holes were almost non existent and time ran out. Cristiano's face might launch a thousand ships, but it could not score a goal.

All three of us rode our beercycles to the game and felt very hip in our helmets and very virtuous.
Check out this link that Cuzzy sent. A man with a similar idea (and with perhaps a somewhat finer touch) has recorded his world trip around Toronto:
http://josephmichael.ca/worldcup2006/
Only two more games--yikes. Then we what will we do?

If you live in a town where there is absolutely no one of any Italian blood ANYWHERE in their background... I'll let you know that Azzurri won yesterday, in extra time, 2-0. The first FABIO-lous goal sent the Regal Bistro on St. Clair West into pandemonium. And before the  reality had even sunk in that they were actually on their way to the final, another dazzling goal  nailed the coffin shut on Germany. No ugly business this game, no questionable calls at the end, nothing for the Italians to be accused of, except, maddeningly for their opponents, superior play.

Now I'm not just saying all this because our friend Rocco was with us again, even though about half way through I realized that if Italy lost, we would be stuck either with a catatonic Rocco or using the CPR I just recertified for. No one, I repeat, no one we have watched with over the past three weeks of soccer, has kept their eye so glued to each play as Rocco. He and coach Lippi knew what was happening at all times.

But fortunately for Rocco, for us, and for the thousands of fans around this city, they will live to see another day. The Big Day. Already I am bracing for the euphoria, or the melancholia. Someone in our World Cup travels, I've forgotten now who, said that only last year did the number of Chinese immigrants in Toronto surpass the Italians. H-O-N-K !!!!!!
ciao for now

Judgment Day
England vs. Portugal                  Final: Portugal 3-1 on penalties

Fox and Fiddle
Danforth Ave.
Beer: Lager and Lime

Nobody prepared me for the slow disappearing of the flags---now only four left. Now what you see left  are lots of Canadian flags.
And this being Canada Day, we chose the England game (that, and the fact that we hadn't seen their fans yet, and we knew Cuzzy had his heart set. It was the least we could do.) We figured Brazil was going to win (cough, cough) so we chose this one
And it was tense. At the half I really thought the Lions were doomed. Portugal seemed to be pressing -  inevitably. But England came back strong and it was lovely to see. They really took it to them - and that half and the Extra Time was raucous at the pub...I began to see that these fans had sat in disappointment way too long. And then Rooney did the stupid thing, and then the announcer HAD to say that England had never won on penalty kicks, and then,  like that,  it was over. Again.
And just like with the Argentines yesterday, a great, hellish noise turns dead silent and people leave--- and I guess,  go and take the little flags off their cars.
Guapo del dia: Sister Molly joined us today, and she surprised even herself by calling the entire English side attractive,especially Terry. Oh well, there's no accounting for taste, boys, rest assured. Someone finds you handsome.
Can't sign off without commenting on the Brazil/France game....ohmigod! Molly went out and bought the tricolor - I haven't done that
 yet.....