La Liga - a review

In the absence of anything much to rant about for a week or 2 I give you a brief review of the Spanish football season as seen by own sweet eyes:

Well, as I sit here the television shows thousands of scum, sorry, Real Madrid fans at Plaza Cibeles awaiting the arrival of Raul y co to celebrate one of the closest title victories of recent years. It's easy to say they don't deserve it as they played dire football for much of the first 2 thirds of the season, while Barcelona always played with much flair if nothing else, and Sevilla with a lot of heart, but at the end of the day La Liga speaks for itself, and the 2 games against Barcelona this season, especially the first, showed Madrid to have the upper hand against their closest rivals. The others can only look at missed opportunities.

As for my adopted team, Athletico Madrid, we can definitely look back at much the same thing. Last week's performance v Celta was the lowest point in the season. And with one of the most influential players, Maxi Rodriguez, back in the team and playing well in the last few weeks, with Petrov as well back from long term injury and Torres finding a bit of form also, you would have thought these last few weeks would be the strongest part of what has been the best season for not far off a decade, so I understand. But, a severe lack of reliable, athletic defenders and cultured players in central midfield to keep possession (a horribly costly weakness) has kept Los Rojiblanchos outside of the automatic UEFA positions and into the Intertwobob Cup. I have quite enjoyed following them this season, despite their terrible deficiencies, as just having a team just down the road from where I live and the prospect of being, somewhere, able to watch every game if I wanted in some manner, in addition to being surrounded by people with somewhat polemic emotions towards the club has meant that I've felt more able to become quite attached to the club, and that has meant a rollercoast of emotions, albeit a rollercoaster that has more down slopes than up ones!

Torres could well be off now. I was discussing this with a mate (a staunch Athletico fan) earlier and we both felt that for Athletico to grow he may need to leave, as he is quite clearly bigger than the club, opinions on his ability aside. But there is little in reserve and they would still have to hope to pick up a couple of free strikers in the window if Torres stayed . Aguero is still young and green and Mista thus far fairly ineffectual. Whilst the wings are well manned, the centre of midfield is an issue. Maniche gives 20 mins out of 90 a game and disappears for the rest, Luccin is starting to slow although is by far the most consistent, Gabi is off to Zaragoza and Jurado is inexperienced. At least 2 signings in that area are needed I feel as well. Half of the defensive options need replacing, and the others (Antonio Lopez, Eller and Ze Castro) need a kick up the backside to play to their full ability. They are in desperate need of a top-class player in the centre especially. At least Leo Franco is pretty dependable and for me would be the player of the season. The amount of points that he has saved for Athleti this season is far more than it should be, which is pretty telling of the whole team really. But fingers crossed coach Aguirre sees all this and works it out.

What about La Liga next season? My feelings are this: Sevilla, who'll be kicking themselves this season after being in the mix and the knowledge that if only they'd got 6 points from the last 2 games and not 1 they would have won the league will linger long in the memories. It seems the team may be dismantled somewhat with Dani Alves the 1st off and I don't feel they will match this great season where they've had great cup success again. UEFA spots. Valencia were killed by injuries for much of the season and will probably be happy with a comfortable 4th in the end. Expect summer strengthening, mainly in defence, and a competent title challenge next season. Zaragoza played some great football and if they can improve this team rather than lose key players then they should at least make UEFA spots again, if not top 4. Could only be an 'if' though. Barcelona suffered from huge team spirit problems this season, and it seems to me Rijkaard is at something of a loss as to how to solve it. Don't expect all 3 of Ronaldinho, Deco and Eto'o to be there next season. But, man-for-man they are clearly the most talented team here and if they can pull together, with a couple of sensible signings they should set the pace for much of next season, if not win it. Real Madrid, unlikely as it may sound, do have a few problems to sort out. With Beckham, Roberto Carlos and quite possibly Reyes, Emerson and Cicinho also, leaving the club there's a few gaps to fill. How Calderon/Capello sort this out I don't know, but expect money to be thrown at high risk players in the hope of a successful European challenge. I dearly dearly hope they fuck it up ;). Also look for more from Villareal, an up and coming side again with some exciting youngsters, and maybe Getafe if they can hold onto their manager, Schuster (the Steve Coppell of Spanish football).

Prediction for next season: 1st Barcelona, 2nd Valencia, 3rd Real Madrid, 4th Athletico Madrid (lol), 5th Zaragoza, 6th Villareal, 7th Sevilla, 8th Getafe.

But you know it won't be...

Metro Madrid and its contribution to natural selection

Oooh well this is a favourite of mine. Well when I say 'favourite' I mean that pretty much to its extreme opposite. But you get the idea, and its too early for me to think if a word exists to the extreme opposite of 'favourite'. So that will have to do.

The Spanish have this reputation as being a laid-back species, always putting things off until 'mañana' (although this is actually a popular misconception, I believe that it is South America that truly claims this 'honour', but the Spanish still have a laid-back reputation), and they themselves like to claim that they are not as crazy as those fast-living northern Europeans and Americans. Well, maybe its because I live in the city but quite frankly I dispute this. And as an (first, with a series to follow, possibly) example I give you those people at danger to the entire public-transport using public of Madrid - the sprint-as-fast-as-you-can-to-catch-the-train-because-the-one-in-3-minutes-will-make-such-a-difference-to-how-late-how-I-ammers.

what a species! They threaten to bring the death rate back to 3rd World levels what with the amount of quite frail pensioners who, quite frankly I have to admit shouldn't be out in the city unsupervised. But that's not my point. I only care about what it means to ME... and that is the following: a) I get jarred in the back by a stray arm/head/bag/umbrella/small dog, b) I'm on the train and as the doors close some wanker runs and gets in the way of the doors closing, thus causing the train to be further delayed for those of us with half a mind. Especially the notable example where this stupid, stupid, imbecilic girl (probably early 20s) ran, umbrella tip 1st, towards closing doors, only for the umbrella to get caught between the doors. She screamed
as the train started to move, the train stopped, the driver got out and spent like 5/10 minutes getting the doors open. Then she had the cheek to get the train anyway. God we glowered at her, what a dick! And you may think I'm being selfish, but think of all those in trains waiting to get to the station back on the line. THINK OF THEM!!

mmm... positivity.

Well, not that its been that bad, but I have to say nothing springs to mind. I should take notes...

Cash Madrid

So the end of month means one thing and one thing only: getting paid. Apart from for some of us lucky folks who have useless Spanish bosses who lack the organisation to pay anybody the correct amount of money at the correct time. The customary payment schedule for me is to hassle the 'Beard', as he is known, for my rent money on the 1st of the following month, which he normally gives over with a look of deep sadness and regret in his eye, exclaiming something in Spanish designed to make me guilty enough to work some extra hours. Then I receive the rest of my pay in 'instalments' of about €50 every 4/5 days after severe hassling on each occasion. Its less of a pay packet, more a way of life.

1st of June 2007 I go in to go through the usual routine. Beard is late in. I sit at a computer outside his office ready to pounce. He comes in. Sees me, looks worried. Tries to ignore me. I shout a loud 'Hola, que tal?' at him. He vaguely acknowledges me: I saw him the previous morning to let him know that I would be in this morning to collect money, but it wouldn't need to be as much as usual because I'm getting my deposit back in my rent this month as I leave at the end. I'm a nice guy like that. I enquire as to my status. "5 minutes" he drawls. 5 minutes up I go into his office. He hands me a cheque for my required amount and explains that I need to go to the bank and cash the cheque to get my money. OK this seems doable, if annoying, should only take 5 minutes.

So, I go. Caixa Madrid. I walk in, take a number (125) and sit and wait. I then notice the desk is only on 109 and there is only 1 guy working it. I start to stew over the fact that Beard made me come. I mean, the CHEEK of it. I work, he pays me. I shouldn't have to go through all this bullshit. Plus I'm starting to feel the beer I drank last night. Wanker wanker wanker. The guy is still on number 109, what are they doing, a fucking crossword??

After 10 minutes, a pikey looking woman comes in, makes a fuss. She takes a number, looks at it and sees she has a while to wait. Curses in Spanish. Then another customer, who had clearly taken a ticket and then decided against the need for the 'desk' puts his number on top of the ticket machine. ON TOP! Not in the bin, which would make sense and everyone could forget about it. Not on the floor, in a back pocket or into a plant pot. On top of the ticket machine. Pikey woman spots it, hurries over and looks. With an exclamation of joy she sees the next number change to 110, which it turns out is 'her' new number. She's been in the place 2 minutes and is already being served. Hangover worsens. Bitterness, hatred and loathing increase. Muttering under my breath "fucking Spanish, fucking Spanish, fucking Spanish". She walks out, looking triumphant. I'm fucking hungry now, stomach aching. I listen to 2 people having a conversation in English, strange pair: a 60 something woman, northern European I'd guess German, and a South American chap looking a bit dodgy. Although the words are familiar I can't quite work out what they're discussing. Head spinning.

30 minutes later number 125 comes up. 3 people have jumped up the queue as a result of misplaced number tickets. I am fuming, wondering what would have happened in the UK if the same thing had happened. Public lynching possibly. It's like they think its a message from 'God', a little pat on the back, a blessing or some shit. It's not. The machine is there for a reason - so that people get served in the order of how long they've been waiting. It's fairness, 'justo' as they say here. Normally inappropriately. I get my money, walk out with half a mind to go and see Beard and give him what for. But my stomach reminds me of its emptiness, I hurry to the Metro and go home.


For the purposes of balance I give some positivity of sorts. Saw a great violinist on the Metro this morning. Classical, lots of feeling. Normally I find Metro musicians to be tacky, untalented and clichéd, but this guy had something. That made me smile. Also, there was a bright 3 minutes in my waiting - the bank radio station played "Its a beautiful thing" by one of my old favourite bands, Ocean Colour Scene, which I've not heard for absolutely years. Download in progress.

Which animals??

Hello, my name is George, at least for the purposes of this blog. For the purposes of real life I go by other names, and even on the internet I go by another name, one that people know me by and connect with my real life name and persona. But I feel I need an outlet, one that people don't know me by and will not be able to connect to me. At least not unless they put together the many pieces of the jigsaw and find me out for who I really am... which I feel (or is that hope) is unlikely as the internet is a big place and people who know me in my real life/other internet persona would do very well to a) ever come across this blog and b) put 2 and 2 together and make 4. There are clues, many already, and there will be myriad more I am sure but I plan to remain fairly careful as to allowing the readership (probably 0, I can't even invite my mother) to know my own identification. This may seem rude, but the advantages for me of this is that I can vent feeling without fear of reprisal, pass comment without obligation and contradict my known self in certain areas without looking a fool. The advantages for you could be negligible, or they could be that tiny piece of wisdom you feel you've been lacking all your life, year, month, week, day or hour. Occasionally I might be funny, occasionally I might try to be funny and fall on my arse. Who knows? I certainly don't.

I chose George ST as my screen name as a small tribute to 2 of my favourite authors, George Orwell and Hunter S Thompson. Maybe it should be George S Thompson but I thought that was a bit obvious and hell, they're both dead now anyway so no matter. I quite like reading and from time to time hope to discuss books/authors and other things readable. For now, in addition to the aforementioned legends of the quill, may I also recommend a remarkable work entitled 'Shantaram' by a Kiwi chap called Gregory David Roberts. Fascinating stuff. I intend to return to that subject in the future.

So I live in Madrid, Spain. I am not a native of the place. I am from a very beautiful part of the UK which I may/may not mention when appropriate. The title of this blog is a quote from my real-life persona, and is in reference to the people of this land. However, I hasten to point out that I am NOT anti-Spanish. Not at all. In fact, the Spanish can be some of the loveliest, most open (as they never tire of telling me) and welcoming people in Europe. But, there are certain traits which would mean that they would be given very short thrift back in the homeland, and are given little by me in my time here. This is not particularly indicative of the general content of this space, but there may be some reference to it. And when I say reference, I probably mean ranting. And I may cross-reference this with other things when appropriate. I intend this to be something of a sociological/anthropological thing, comment on people, how they act and why they do so. But this may degenerate into other realms should I see fit. Such as aimless rambling.

Which is what I appear to have done here... so hasta luego, adios!