Pawangs, Paul and Pil Chi-Kit Teck Aun

Phewww... this week had definitely been some week.

Different deadlines at work were fast approaching and i was in the zone. On auto-pilot or drone mode. I just wanted to get most of the work finished and done with so that I could have a decent, hassle-free weekend. Life unfortunately, seldom goes according to even the best of our plans.

Yes, life took one of its more unpleasant turns when I was abruptly reminded of my responsibilities as a father. My wife rang me at work. Our daughter was unwell and was complaining about it. Bad news. Especially since the complaints were coming from my firstborn who had a strangely high pain threshold.

Yes, when I say high, I really mean high. OK, not Cypress Hill, I Want to Get High kind of high. Just high as if in errr...argghhh just forget it. 

You see, when she was a baby, getting her vaccinated wasn't a problem at all. You could poke a dozen needles into her and all she'd do was squirm or at the very worst, come out with a tiny Ouch! I remember carrying her on my back (in one of those backpacker style baby carriers) during one of our travels - in the mid-day heat of a Barcelona summer and she wouldn't say a word about the excruciatingly painful heat. Scrapes and bruises? She'd just smile at the sight of them. She's like my little SuperGirl or that blonde cheerleader in Heroes - Season One.

Like I said, she's got a very high pain threshold so, when she does complain that she's in pain, it most likely means that it's bad. Very bad.

From the symptoms my wife described to me, my non-medical opinion was that it was appendicitis. I told a friend at work about it and joked...

If it was her appendix, any chance the doctors would move the op until after the match?

OK, bad joke. I know. If my daughter was going to need an operation Germany, Spain and that squid called Paul could wait. Really.

Fortunately, everything went better than expected. My daughter didn't need an operation and was allowed to go home that evening. I had some of my daughter's puke to clean off the carpeted floor in the bedroom but it was all good as I was just relieved that my daughter was fine. Spain beat Germany and for the first time in a very long time, Liverpool would have a World Cup winner in the squad no matter who wins the World Cup.

I was once again looking forward to a good weekend. Life returned to normal and the balance of the universe was restored.

Potentially useful tip of the week: If you think you've got something wrong with your appendix, try to jump. Don't go crazy, a tiny jump will do. If your tummy hurts particularly in the lower right region and you can bearly lift yourself off the ground, there's a good chance you do have appendicitis.

Disclaimer of the week: Like Minyak Angin Chap Kapak or Pil Chi-Kit Teck Aun, this tip isn't medically proven so, if you or a loved is unwell, please seek professional medical help. Local pawang's help is optional.

The end is nigh

I'm a sucker for good marketing ploys. OK, they don't have to be good in the intelligent sense. Different will do me just fine. So, went it came to some hot sauce packed as a cowboy, I just couldn't resist!

At €6.95 a bottle, it definitely didn't come cheap but I've never been one to skimp on my food. Hence, my ever so slightly big-boned condition. Anyway, the plan is to have a BBQ right before the World Cup final this Sunday. If it's any good (the sauce I mean), I'll report back.

Oh yes, the World Cup. As I write this, Spain had just been confirmed as the other finalist alongside the Netherlands or Holland (still can't figure out what I'm supposed to call this country), courtesy of Carles Puyol. I'm predicting a good final unless the Bash Brothers - Van Bommel and De Jong decide to ruin it all by flying in with some dodgy tackles early on. A good referree and some decent linesmen wouldn't do any harm either.

As always, my instinct is to root for the underdog and in this case, that would be Holland (I've figured it out?) but seriously, can any neutral football fan actually resist the urge to back Spain instead?

Other than the clips of I've seen here and there, I've never actually seen the great World Cup squads like Brazil of the 1970 vintage or the Total Football of Holland in 1974 so really, this Spain squad is definitely the best I've seen live over the past two decades or so. And just because of that, they deserve to bring that chunk of gold-plated metal back to Madrid by the end of Sunday (or whenever it is they fly back).

¡Viva España!

World Cup Despair

Being Malaysian, I’d be rooting for any Asian team at the World Cup. Any country, as long as it was in the Asian Confederation and that includes the Australians these days. Why?

Well, it’s certainly not because any of the Asian teams play amazing, eye-catching football. OK, South Korea came close to something half decent in their game against Greece but the Asian teams are still light years away from producing anything brilliant. So, let me explain...

Good match last night, eh? Those Koreans definitely ran the Greeks to the ground didn’t they?

Yeah, amazing bunch of guys they have there. It’s like a team of Ji-Sung Parks running the show...

Hang on. Where are you from again? Malaysia isn’t it? Why aren’t your boys at the World Cup?

Errr...because we’re crap. We used to be quite good you know. Back in the day when they only allowed one Asian team to the World Cup, South Korea was that team BUT we were number two. Right behind them. Really...

You see, the only reason I want Asian teams to do well is because I want the Asian allocation at the World Cup to increase to a number where Malaysia would stand a good chance of qualifying for the tournament. Of course, I understand that being ranked number 146 in the world doesn’t help. Even if Asia had the full allocation of 32 teams, we’d still have a mathematically impossible chance of qualifying.

Well, at least we’ve got Subkhiddin Mohd Salleh over in South Africa. Oh, what a great job he does putting up numbers every now and again (although the electronic board thing can seem too heavy for him sometimes - more weight training perhaps?). That’s as close as any Malaysian is going to get to some really world class players...

The World Cup up to now

Right, I might get lynched for this but here goes...

Ireland should’ve gone to South Africa instead of France? Yeah, right. OK, from a strictly football perspective, Thierry Va Va Voom Henry (having visited Croke Park in the first leg), could’ve been confused between GAA and association football.

That game still had to go penalties and no matter how great Shay Given is, there was still no guarantee that Ireland would’ve won the shootout. Les Bleus were merely being good hosts by ensuring that the boys in green went home to bed as early as possible. God only knows how long a penalty shootout would’ve taken that night in Paris.

And, do the Irish squad think that they could ever, ever match Les Bleus’ performances in Le Meltdown? Yes, looking at the group France were in, Don Giovanni would’ve certainly fancied Ireland’s chances of making it past the first round but seriously, even Roy Keane’s tantrums in Saipan would’ve seemed mild compared to the antics of the Black, Blanc and errr...no Beurs?

Yes, strangely enough, Raymond Domenech (maybe not that strange since it came from Domenech) chose not to bring along any players of Arab/North African origin into the French squad. OK, he might not have thought that Raul’s pal on the sidelines, Karim Benzema would be sharp enough or that Hatem Ben Arfa was plainly a headcase but leaving out Samir Nasri?

The way I see it, if he’s got space in his squad for the likes of Djibril Cisse he’s got not excuse for not bringing along any of the above players. Maybe Sarkozy told him they weren’t French enough and that’s why Henry’s gone around to meet with him. Ooh la la!

In the end, Sepp Blatter got what he wanted, France in the World Cup, entertaining the world. They definitely did entertain us all. Yeah, try beating that Irlande!

Sticking with knocked-out footballing giants (coincidentally also in blue), the Italians must’ve boarded their plane of shame to Rome by now. With those two out of the way, the path is now clear for Inger-land to claim their rightful place at the top of the world (where they naturally belong of course) and bring football back to its rightful home.

Yes, after clearly beating the merde out of Slovakenia Slovekia some lesser-known Balkan country, England are once again set to strike fear into the hearts of all and sundry. How could they not? After all, they’re kitman had recently found a stash of their old Empire Red jersey that turns midgets like Jermaine Defoe into Emile Heskey. Eh?

Of course, they still have to beat this little-known nation called Germany while a host of smaller nations like say, Portugal, Argentina, Spain and the smallest of them all, Brazil lie in wait after. Easy. Why wait? Get 2010 England etched on to that trophy now!

A trip to the mountains

The initial plan was to head to Clonmacnoise but driving for that length of time with kids in the car wasn't actually my cup of tea especially since I was still recovering from Rage Against the Machine's gig from a few nights ago. A closer-to-home option was preferred.

The Gateway

So, having turned back the clock musically (with Rage), I decided to do the same with a visit down to Glendalough which was last visited about ten years or so ago.

The Round Tower

The ancient monastic site was errr...as expected, unchanged from back then. Unfortunately, our visit there was cut short as the kids started to get scared being in what basically was a graveyard! Plan B was to pop over to a more child-friendly spot a quick drive up the R755, the Upper Lake.

Upper Lake, Glendalough

Some of the locals

Again, taking the trip as a Vespa run scouting trip, a detour was in order as we headed towards the Wicklow Gap (which included bits of the Braveheart Drive). Climbing up the mountains was a bit of a struggle even in the car while the return trip was a decent enough  downhill roller-coaster-type ride. I'd make sure that I get more torque on to that old Vespa as well as an upgrade to some good disc brakes, if I can afford it.

The view from half-way towards the Wicklow Gap

A few thousand miles south of all this, something more important just kicked-off, literally. Oh, yes. It's that event wives, partners and girlfriends the world over dread every four years. Enjoy the football people.

1, 2, 3...Viva Algerie!

After a good feed at a place called KO (strange name for a fast food place), we headed straight to the RDS. Kick-off was at 7.45 so, to allow the mixed grill and pilau rice to settle, we decided to walk the whole way. By the time we got there, it was already about five minutes or so into the game.

We were sat right beside the stewards on the left with the Algerian fans. Yayyy!

The tickets I got were for unreserved seats on the South Stand so being late didn't help. We realised that the stewards were still trying to organise the two fans into the assigned sections of the stand but when it came to us two Malaysians, they were a just a bit confused. We were eventually lumped in with the visiting Algerian fans. 


After getting ourselves seats (and being shouted at by dudes with thick French/Arabic accents), I was horrified to find out that my camera had ran out of batteries! Imagine that? The first half went by pretty quickly after that. Other than new boy Paul Green's goal, there wasn't much to the game. Fortunately, that got the crowd going and as neutral as I was, I wanted the visitors to score just to put a smile on my new-found North African buddies' faces!


I eventually found myself batteries for the camera at the break but paid the price as I missed the second goal.

Duff gets taken off after the second goal. He didn't seem a 100% anyway.

The stadium at this stage was already a third less than at the start but was certainly louder with Ireland comfortably in the lead. Obviously I'm not an ardent follower of the Algerian national team but at the rate they were playing on Friday night, they'd surely get their collective behinds walloped by England, Slovenia and the US.


Anyway, here's the rest of the pics from the match...

Kevin Doyle - although a foot shorter than the Algerian defence, caused them a world of pain with the long balls that kept being pumped through.

If not for the Algerian No.5's (Rafik Halliche) good work, they could've been down by a lot more. I aim to find out his name at some stage.

Ireland get a late penalty and naturally, Robbie Keane gets a go at it.

Naturally, you'd expect Robbie to score. Seen here celebrating in only the second shirt he's been in longer than 3 minutes!

What do Algeria and Iron Maiden have in common?

Working where I work has its benefits. No, we don't have Playboy Bunnies running around semi-naked or anything like that. We do however always have free (or discounted) tickets for events up for grabs. The problem is, I'm never fast enough to reply to emails so, I tend to miss out on the more glamorous events. As an example, the last tickets I got were for Iron Maiden a few years ago.

I managed to get these tickets not because I had the fastest fingers in the West but only because no one else in the office had heard about them. Some thought this Iron Maiden concert was just a tribute band because,

Surely, all the original band members would be dead at this stage?

Or, they just weren't too keen on watching ugly steel-working girls from say, Sheffield putting on a show. There were even some who thought that Mydin Mart were hosting an event to celebrate the grand opening of their Dublin store. Yes, those people were definitely disappointed...

So, fast-forward a few years and another non-glamorous event pops into my inbox. The replies were slow as people were equally slow to grasp who Ireland were playing against on Friday night.

Oh yeah, they're the lads that beat Egypt weren't they? We had a few lads driving around Ranelagh that night waving they're flags...So, that's where they're from!

Or

Isn't that where Zidane's from?

No, Zidane's from Marseille but yes, his parents were originally from Algeria.

So, they must have a half-decent team then, eh?

I suppose. Needless to say, I'm now the proud owner of two tickets to watch the Republic of Ireland v. Algeria game tonight. My first proper international game. OK, I must've watched Malaysia play at some stage but seriously? A Malaysia v. Bangladesh game wouldn't actually count now would it?

Where's the buzz?

The World Cup is just a few weeks away. Normally, I'd be all excited about the prospect of a whole month's worth of football but for some reason, not this time.


Could it be the fact that the Cup is on, far away in South Africa this time around?

I don't think so. The 2002 edition was even further away in the Far East and that didn't ruin the atmosphere. Well, you could argue that the buzz most certainly would have been there in 2002 since Ireland were in it and thanks to Mr. Va Va Voom himself, are missing out on a trip to the Southern Hemisphere in 2010.
Well, to be fair, Ireland didn't actually make Germany 2006 either and that World Cup definitely had a good feel to it.


Maybe it's because I'm getting older and the fun element isn't there anymore? OK, I don't actually go out and get the latest Panini sticker book and swap player stickers but that's no real excuse.


It could be because of the teams that are there. There's just none of the traditional favourites worth rooting for.


Brazil are definitely no samba heroes while Dunga's at the helm (although they'll probably end up winning it anyway - just look at their back four!). Argentina is being led by a mad man while France suffers from guilt and will probably get knocked out in the first round.


With all due respect to Del Bosque, Spain look like they're going to revert to their pre-Aragones days and just disappoint everyone. Ditto with Holland unless the manager can somehow squeeze the combined creativity of Sneijder and Robben while somehow keeping it tight at the back.

Having lived in Ireland for the better part of a decade, I'd know better than to show any allegiance to England even if they do stand a good chance of winning it with Don Fabio in charge.

So, yes. Maybe, it's for that reason, this particular World Cup isn't getting me all excited. It's either that or the prospect of watching live football with those annoying migraine-inducing vuvuzela being blown in the background. And I thought all the whistling at the Ali Sami Yen was hell.

Anyway, I watched this Nike ad at the end of the Champions League final and thought it was brilliant. If this ad doesn't kickstart the old World Cup feel, I don't know what else will. Just love the Rooney-caravan-Ribery-on-billboard bit as well as the pouty Ronaldo statue...

Oh, and that Dunga is definitely a brave man for leaving Ronaldinho behind. I'd say the Nike execs are just a tad bit pissed off with him for not bringing along their Brazillian poster boy. Stick it to the man, Carlos. Good for you.