Despite all the odds, I’m still interested in soccer. Weird, huh? I went to my first professional soccer game last weekend, and it was great. I have a stadium literally down the road from my house that in the year and a half I’ve lived here, I never even considered visiting. I’m glad I did; it was awesome. I’m going back this Saturday and sitting in the hooligan section. Seeing as soccer seasons last 9 months, I can foresee myself dropping some serious cash and spending a lot of time at local soccer games. To help me decide if this is mostly good or mostly  bad, I’ve written up some pros and cons:


  1. Stadiums have hooligan sections.
  2. Soccer players are, on the whole, beautiful men.
  3. Like at most sporting events, binge drinking is encouraged, rather than frowned upon.
  4. American soccer fans are still a relatively small group, so my chances of meeting / befriending / mooching off of a player are increased.
  5. The stadium is janky, which means it’s not crowded, and you can get beer and food easily and on the cheap.


  1. I don’t really understand soccer.

Sounds like a no brainer to me! Finn was fortunate enough to attend the NY Redbulls game tonight at which Thierry Henry made his local debut. For those of you who don’t know much about Thierry, here are three pieces of trivia for you: he’s gorgeous, has a French accent, and plays soccer. France hardly played him at all during this recent World Cup, a crime I find more reprehensible than anything they did (or perhaps more importantly, didn’t do) during World War II. But really, don’t feel bad if you don’t know anything about Monsieur Thierry; neither did these idiots, but it didn’t stop them from interviewing him on live TV, now did it?

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While we’re on the topic of soccer, allow me to spew a quick grippe. At a party last Friday, I saw a guy wearing baby blue T-shirt with the outline of Argentina, a star where the capital city is, labeled “Buenos Aires,” and a print of a curly haired 1970s-era Diego Maradona. My love of Coach Diego is well documented, so I approached this guy confidently and commented that it was great to meet another Maradona fan. He looked at me wide-eyed and countered with a completely sincere “what is that?” OH MY GOD. You cannot wear such an unbelievably specific shirt and ask that. You just can’t!

In a general housekeeping item, sorry my blog posts have been so irregular. Finn finally convinced me to join Twitter in the hopes that some of the one liners or song recommendations I have will at least be shared, rather than be damned to the blog version of the Island of Misfit Toys. So, even though our children’s children will one day read in history books that the single moment which signified the downfall of our generatio was forcing comedic greats like Conan O’Brien to begin limiting their comments to 160 characters* a pop, I cast all judgment aside and dive headfirst into Twitter Land. Any friendly suggestions of how to navigate these new waters (for instance, I imagine it’s not called Twitter Land) would be greatly appreciated. And oh yea, follow me! I’m @ Or am I just @PintjeBlog ? See! I have so many questions!

*Note: characters is one of the words I misspell so egregiously that SpellCheck can’t even help me. Based on how I spelled it this time, for instance, the computer generated suggestion was “correctors.” At least it kept it ironic!