Ireland v. Uruguay: No Suarez But Uruguay Still Entertain

Right number, wrong person. Cavani scored a goal nevertheless.

Yes, Luis Suarez wasn't going to be involved in the mid-week international friendly between Ireland and Uruguay last night but we managed to get our hands on cheap tickets (thanks Dan!) and that alone made the match worth watching. Something the FAI conveniently chose to ignore when initially pricing Ireland's football matches. Nothing worse than a half empty, spanking new stadium so, it was good to know that they've now decided to scrap the mindless match bundling ticket arrangements and lower prices a wee bit.

Thankfully, the quality of entertainment on the pitch and even off it (the crowds constantly messing with the stewards for custody over the match balls) was just about enough to make up for the low attendance. Uruguay didn't disappoint as they fielded their First XI (minus the recuperating Suarez) which starred in their semi-final appearance in the recent World Cup. And, the quality was evident. It was there for all to see why they made it to the final four. The final 3-2 scoreline is certainly deceiving since Uruguay clearly took their feet off the pedal after scoring their third goal.

In fairness to Ireland, Trapattoni did field a largely young squad and one would certainly need the help of the match program to name the starting XI. Young or old, the Irish players certainly put in the effort and were rewarded with two goals - the first from simply effective open play while the second came from some hard work which eventually led to a penalty. It would only do the young players good to be playing against quality opposition such as Uruguay and previously, Argentina.

Oh, and this dude certainly made himself useful.

Ireland v. Argentina: Just Messi-ng with Ireland

The fact that it was the first day of Ramadhan didn't deter me from going to this match. Seriously, even if you ignored that this was Ireland's first match in the all-new Landsdowne Road (or the Aviva Stadium, as its called these days), it's not every day that one would be able to see Argentina play. This wasn't some sort of Argentina B team though, it was the full squad. The real thing.

 

The Liverpool and the not-so Liverpool contingent

 

Still skeptical about the whole thing especially after the FAI's penny-pinching opening show (what in the world was it supposed to be anyway?), I was half-expecting Lionel Messi to only make a token appearance towards the end of the match but he actually started and played close to 60 minutes of the game. Of course, being Messi, he caused Ireland all sorts of trouble.

 

Ireland were completely outclassed by the Argentinians throughout the match but ironically, the only way Argentina could find a goal was through some dodgy decision-making by the match officials. Ángel di María's goal will be in the history books but his job on the night was made even much easier by the hapless Paul McShane.

After that, other than a few dramatic attempts by Ireland towards the end, the match just lumbered on. One of those games where if you were watching it on TV, you'd be channel-surfing. I didn't have the option so, I decided to focus on other bits around the stadium. Here's a few of them:

Clockwise from top left: Support from the relatives for Robbie Keane's 100th cap; unlike Michel Platini, Eamon Dunphy didn't get any boos from the crowd but this one improvised banner did stand out; the non-prawn sandwich support and the scoreboard.

At the end of the day, it was a brilliant night just because of its historical importance rather than anything else. The stadium is brilliant (feels more like a posh conference centre rather than a stadium) and would definitely be a fitting home for Irish rugby and football as well as the venue for the 2011 Europa League final, no matter which clubs play in it. Hopefully, I'd get free tickets to that one as well...

Green Vespa at Work: Early Mornings

What's going on here? Did the wife kick you out bed...?

There it was, the obligatory remark from the office's security guard/stationery man as I walked through the front door of my work place. He seldom fails to put a smile on my face with his oh-so smart comments.

You see, I woke up early yesterday morning. Really early. To prove my point, I had breakfast at 3.30 in the morning. Yes, I did say early...

Having not much else to do that early in the morning, I decided to go to work. And, what a decision that turned out to be. Everything's so fresh early in the morning. Traffic was pretty much non-existent. People just seemed so calm. Traffic lights? Well, they're all for some odd reason, a shade of magical green - all the way. Even the scent of 2-stroke oil popping out my Vespa's rusty exhaust seemed different, but in a nice way.

I wanted to make a detour just to extend the early morning ride but my inherent kiasu-ness took over. I wanted to be the first at work at least, this one time. So, instead of taking a right or left, I headed straight to the office, confident that I'd get to my destination well ahead of my colleagues.

In the end, I was horribly disappointed. No, the car park wasn't full of cars but there were a few of them already there. Dammit. Don't these people ever sleep?

I'll be first one day. Nah, maybe not... I like my sleep too much.

Hello Atlantic Ocean

Yes, that's right. I've never come across the second largest ocean on the planet before. I probably flew over it at some early stage of my life but yes, last weekend was my first encounter with the Atlantic Ocean.

Having friends visiting over the weekend was a great excuse for the family and I to jump into the car and bring them along for the 260 kilometers or so drive west to the Cliffs of Moher.

Note to self: Next time I go on a drive, I'll make sure to remind myself that the AA Ireland Route Planner function should only be seen as a guideline rather than absolute directions to my intended destination. The same goes with relying on other people's un-updated sat navs. Unless I was feeling like doubling my travel time and getting non-stop Are We There Yet questions from the kids, just for the sake of it.


Would certainly drive you to do something like this, wouldn't it?

Will they ever learn?

Most of you would've heard about Rip-off Ireland but you'd think with this recession going on, some of the people around here would've copped on to the whole economic downturn thing but obviously, not the usual suspects...

I was over at Ireland's sole distributor of the beloved Vespa recently and as I had been eyeing the GTS 300 Super for a while now, I finally decided to go see how much it actually costs in the first place. Not that I was thinking of buying the scooter, it was just good to know who much I'd have to spend if I ever had the money to buy the thing in the first place.

A quick look at the price list and I was astounded. Well, not really considering I was in Ireland. €6,000 for a brand new GTS 300. That was the price. Oh, and they do throw in a few hundred quid in vouchers to soften the blow.

That's all well and good but how does that compare to prices over in the UK or even further up the M1. A quick look at the Vespa UK site shows that the same scooter goes on sale for £3,899 which at today's rate would translate to just over €4,600. That's a conservative €1,400 more than the price over here!

OK, it'll cost a bit more to get the scooter across the body of water between England and Ireland so, let's throw in an extra €150 for transport costs. Then there's the VAT but, considering the UK also have VAT charged on goods, the difference would be negligible. On the other hand, that negligible amount would also amount to another €150 so, for fairness' sake we'll throw it in. Last but not least, one would need to add on the dreaded VRT. That'll make you almost €600 poorer, of course.

So, there you go. There's €900 of the €1,400 justified but there's still the mystery of the other €500. Where'd that money go, eh? I don't know but, the thing I do know for sure is that the other half a grand of my hard-earned money won't be handed over to the dealers over here, no matter how supportive it's meant to be to the local economy...

And down came the rain

It was around this time of the year, eight years ago that my father-in-law made his one and only trip (to date) to visit his daughter and I in Dublin. My wife and I had just been married a couple of months beforehand so, it was quite obvious to me that the visit wasn’t just a normal, I’m just dropping by visit.

Being a father myself these days, I completely understood. Surely, he had the right to know how his daughter was doing after moving in with me – basically a complete stranger, 5,000 miles away from home.

If I recall correctly, my father-in-law arrived late in the evening. He was on a business trip to London and seeing that Dublin was only a 45-minute flight away, popped over to check on us kids right after all his meetings. We woke up the following morning to a gloriously sunny day and got ready to take a walk around town.

I instinctively grabbed an umbrella just as we were about to leave the flat. My father-in-law, who was a man that doesn’t usually say much, looked at me curiously.

I don’t think we need that.

He pointed at the umbrella and was more than likely referring to the brilliant mid-morning sun. I could sense that he was being polite. To me, he might as well have said.

You nerd. Who needs a brolly in this weather?!

But, before I could say a word, my wife jumped in like my very own knight in shiny armour.

Oh, we’ll definitely need it. You’ll see Ayah...you’ll see...

Complete with John Locke-it’s-going-to-rain-all-knowing-look. My wife’s father just smiled and we were on our way.

Fine. The nerd can bring along his brolly.

There’s a saying around here and it goes like this: Ireland would’ve been a great country. If only it had a roof. So, true to form, it rained cats and dogs just around mid-day that day. My father-in-law, being the gent that he is acknowledged that both my wife and I were right.

The morale of the story is, when in Ireland, be prepared or you will be soaked to the bone. Unfortunately for me, that lesson didn’t stick in my head. I don’t think I can be blamed though especially since we’ve had the best summer as far as I can remember. A whole month or so of just sun, sun and more sun.

Yes, I was soaking wet when I got home last Friday and then again on Monday. That’s twice in the space of only four days. I didn’t bother bringing along my wet gear with me over the past month. It’s now properly packed in my Vespa’s toolbox, ready for everyday use.

And to think I was actually thinking of changing my rain-friendly Heidenau K58s to some nice semi-slick ones only a few days ago.

So, summer’s definitely over. It was definitely good while it lasted though. One whole month of blue sky sunshine (it did rain but only in the middle of the night) as payback for a dreadfully cold winter. I wouldn’t have it any other way though.



   

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?

Insuring scooters in Ireland

Insurance. In the scootering world, insurance is such a bad word that if you post up a topic on an online forum asking about it, you’re destined to get at least 2-3 pages worth of replies. The replies would be polite and sympathetic to you but with all the angst in the galaxy (comparable to Emperor Palpatine's) directed to the insurance companies/brokers.

Once, I asked about how it was possible that my CAR insurance increased by such an enormous amount when there was no apparent reason to cause such an increase. Almost immediately, two pages of replies followed containing rants and abuse about different people’s experiences with their SCOOTER insurance. Die you Rebel scum!!!


Only one nice fella vaguely answered my question.


So, if you’re like myself and looking to make some sense about this whole scooter insurance lark, DON’T. It’s just not worth it. Who’s the cheapest? Who’s the best? Just DON’T. Scooter insurance defies logic. It's as if quotes are picked out of thin air.


In my handful of years being (properly) insured on my Vespa, I’ve been with 3 different insurers (OK, insurance brokers, if you’re being picky). That’s quite bad really considering there are only 4 scooter/motorcycle insurers in the whole of the Republic of Ireland. Oh, and the only reason I didn’t go with the fourth one was because they didn’t insure riders on provisional licences (your lost Adelaide!).


I started out with AON Bikecare and because I was so desperate to legally get on my Vespa, I paid the extortionately whopping amount of €1,250 or so (comprehensive cover). Of course, I soon discovered what a Muppet I was to hand over such a large dollop of cash.

On renewal, I started looking and eventually settled on Quinn Direct who more than halved my premium but, I was left with TPFT (Third Party, Fire and Theft) only cover. I didn’t mind. The money I saved on the renewal premium from AON would have bought me another PX anyway in the off-chance anything bad might have happened.


Unlike the other 3 insurers, Quinn don’t actually specialise in scooter/motorcycle cover so, depending on who you get on the phone, you might need some extra explaining to do when you’re in touch with them.


A year passed by and the dreaded renewal notice eventually found its way into my humble abode. I was pleasantly surprised by the decrease (around €200) but was sure I could get a better deal. So, I went online. AON’s online quote system wasn’t working so I parked that crowd aside and tried Carole Nash. The quote came at almost €150 cheaper than Quinn’s. I was delighted with myself so, I thought I’d give AON another chance.


I was brought back down to Earth with a loud thud. AON quoted me €200 more than Quinn. So, not surprisingly, I signed-up to Carole Nash. The thing is, I was glad to recommend Carole Nash to friends but then, I bumped into a scooterist who had been screwed by Carole Nash and saved the same amount I did by going with Quinn instead! Hmmm...


I suppose, the morale of the story is, unlike car and home insurance, you don’t have a gazillion different insurers to choose from (and thereby safe from that annoying fat bloke singing opera on UK TV). You certainly don’t have to get half-blind looking at mountainous piles of quotes from those insurers in the middle of the night. There’s only three (and if you’re lucky four).


So, get off whatever it is you’re sitting on and pick up the phone or go online to get quotes. The most it’ll take you would be half an hour. Then if you’re really up to it, give all of them another call and pit them against each other like the scavenging hyenas that they are.


You might not save that much for your efforts but at least the money would be going towards the pair of Bitubos you’ve always wanted rather than to some fat cat insurance bloke.