The All New FIFA World Cup 2010 Awards

Tonight is the night then. The night which will bring the curtains down over a month long football fiesta. However, there have been curious activities underfoot during the tournament. Apparently, FIFA president Sep Blatter is all set to do away with the traditional boring World Cup awards like Golden Boot, Golden Ball etc., replacing them with new Oscar style awards. Here is a sneak preview.

BEST ACTOR IN A LEADING ROLE


Abdul Kader Keita for behaving like he was shot in the face after a loving pat to the chest from Kaka.

BEST ACTOR IN A SUPPORTING ROLE


Manuel Neuer for his super cool disposition and calm mind despite seeing THAT ball clearly over the line.

BEST ACTRESS IN A LEADING ROLE


Larissa Riquelme. No competition. Got thousands of people praying for a Paraguay World Cup win with her promise to streak.

BEST ACTRESS IN A SUPPORTING ROLE


The Dutch women evicted from the stadium for ambush marketing. What were they promoting? Who cares!

BEST ANIMATED FEATURE


















Diego Armando Maradona. Enough said. The World Cup was definitely poorer after he left.

BEST ANIMATED SHORT FILM


Wayne Rooney. "Nice to see your own fans booing you. That's what loyal support is, for fuck's sake!" 2 matches later. End of Shrek 4.

BEST COSTUME


Fernando Llorente. "Tight shirt is the secret of my success." Come on now, Fernando. You got that shirt during your under-17 days for sure. You can't fool us!

BEST FOREIGN LANGUAGE FILM


Korea DPR. Nobody knew them or understood them. But they gave us the most highly entertaining match of the group stage. Courtesy a 0-7 defeat to Portugal. Their punishment? Banished to work in the coal mines. Actually.

BEST WRITING : ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY


Paul the Psychic. Of course he is writing the entire damn script. How else do you think he gets ALL of them right?

For the rest of the awards, do watch the ceremony tonight. It's time for Africa!

Rip Van Winkle Wakes Up

The best part about being in the blog world is that I can make as many comebacks as I want. As and when I want to. Eat your heart out Michael Jordan and Diego Maradona. You will not be able to do that as many times. Even if you turn back the clock.
But my, how the world has changed in the 1 and a half month sabbatical. Corruption scandals in the railways, medicine, telecom, food, education and so on and so forth at the rate of 1 every 2 days makes me wonder, if 1 day there will be a scandal about the air I breathe. Probably Madhu Koda takes more breaths per minute to stash the extra oxygen away with his Rs. 40000000000 booty (and I have got my 0s right). Speaking of which, I wonder if the good man can sponsor my education. Must be a trifling for him anyway.
Meanwhile as the BP oil spill takes on catastrophic proportions, the head honchos have been left scratching their collective pates (bald or otherwise), over the best possible solution to this mess. Look no further than India, people. Take a leaf out of Mr. Warren Anderson's book of magic spells. Uncomplicated and easy to perform. Show a perfect set of 32 pearly whites, turn on the spot mumbling, "I know Rajiv Ga-" - and poof!Problem gone before you can even say " compensation". Which will probably be a good thing, considering Barack Obama can then finally think of work, instead of focusing on people's derrieres looking for perfect spots to kick.
Meanwhile in South Africa, the big kickfest has been on for a couple of weeks now. And it has sadly ended for the last finalists, France and Italy. Not surprising really, seeing as the French sneaked into the tournament in the first place by an exquisite display of basketball skill. Probably mixed up the sports. Still the Jacques Clouseau type bumbling exit was a bit painful to watch. As for the savvy, uber-cool Italians, the plan went horribly wrong without any penalties to fall back on. Ah Don Lippi, missed a trick to get those spot kicks didn't you? The Italian Job, however has been perfected by Emperor Fabius Capellus and his band of merry Englishmen as a couple of fortuitous goals saw them through to the last 16. Despite Rob Green not being able to hold on to his balls. As Clive Tyldesly helpfully pointed out. "You have to cup your hands to hold them son." Ahem! Thank you for the info sir.
However, I am hoping that England does manage to progress far. The World Cup has been pretty staid without the WAGS. It is a bit tiring, when the only eye candy pops up only at half time and full time and goes by the befuddling name of Mayanti Langer. On the plus side, she does know her football. Are you listening Mandira Bedi?
Of course, when it comes to the World Cup, other sports do recede in to the background. But cricket and tennis are fighting manfully to reclaim their place in the sun.
In tennis, Roger Federer nearly bid adieu in the first round of Wimbledon. Nicolas Mahut and John Isner decided to make this Wimbledon about them and upstage Rafael Nadal and Federer by playing an 11 hour long tennis match. And the Queen decided to drop in at Wimbledon to cheer Andy Murray on. Poor lady. She must be really hard up for cash. What have you done David Cameron?
And in cricket, India and Sri Lanka were slugging it out. Again. I believe Tilakaratne Dilshan has scored 4000 of his 4500 runs against India. Pragyan Ojha, similarly does not what it is like to bowl to someone who is not wearing a different shade of blue. Well, but an Asia Cup win after 15 years. That should be something to cheer about you must think. Alas, even Ravi Shastri decided to give his vocal cords a rest.
So then, keep waving flag and keep Waka Waka-ing for the next few days. It will help you keep your eyes open during the late night kick-offs. Personally, those vuvuzelas hardly keep me awake anymore.
So long then, bye!

Is Torture The Answer?

A serious post is not something this blog is about. In fact it was created with the sole purpose to lighten the mood over the several mundane and drab happenings of the world. But there are some times, when we are forced to take a long, hard look at things and we are unable to joke about them.Which brings me to Mohammed Ajmal Amir Kasab. Sentenced to death on 4 counts and to life sentence on 5 others.
I have been following blog posts, notes etc. in reaction to the sentence. And nearly all are unanimous in the belief that he should be handed over to the Indian public. And then go on to suggest gruesome torture methods so that he is paid back in the same coin. I can understand the pain we feel and the hatred we have for the guy. As an Indian, I was deeply shocked and saddened by the events of 26/11 and I do feel that the perpetrators of the cowardly attack do not deserve to live. 'Sentenced to death by hanging for waging war against India' is probably as apt as it can get.
What I fail to understand, however, is the tremendous amount of vitriol and the belief that true justice will only be done if he is tortured and killed. Why? Handing over criminals to the public for justice is the done thing probably in Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iran, Somalia etc. The very countries, we take pride in being different from. So, do we forget our culture? Do we forget the moral values and ideals which makes this country tick? Do we forget that we live in a civil society where we have a judicial system in place? Do we forget that we are not considered a hardline country mainly because we do not believe in the concept of 'street justice'? All for the sake of one man. Is he really that important, that we need to lose our standing in the world for him? How different are we from the terrorists then?
And let us also not forget, Kasab did not come to India, expecting to be caught alive. He came to India, expecting to be 'shot and killed'. That was supposed to take him to Allah. If our hatred for him is primarily why we want him dead, the least we can do is to make sure that he does not die in the way he expected to. You could probably say that I do not feel the victim's pain when I advocate killing Kasab in a humane manner. But seriously, in their moment of grief, does Tukaram Ombale's family really care about how Kasab dies, as long as he dies?
Some again might say, this is precisely we are perceived to be a soft state. No. What makes us a soft state is placing Kasab at number 52 on the death row and then waiting indefinitely till we reach that number. Place him at 1 and be done with him. That will show that we are serious about tackling terrorists and will not tolerate any person holding our country to ransom.
We already have plenty of Kasabs to deal with as it is. There is no earthly need to go about creating more, just out of sympathy for the public execution of this worthless individual. Do we really need to create more hatred in a world, which is already racked by so much of it?

A Stiff Upper Lip Please

Well considering that this post deals with (almost) entirely British subjects, it would be a good idea if you all read it while trying to keep your upper lip stiff.
I have been following the British elections very closely. And it is quite like watching a P G Wodehouse novel being enacted. Stiff upright Brits making gaffes all over the place may not make for a nice picture if you are British, but for the neutral observer, it does lead to quite a bit of hilarity. In fact Gordon Brown seems to be just another re-incarnation of George Bush (similar initials apart). So Mr. Brown was caught slandering a member of his electorate in private. Which probably would not have been such a huge thing, save for the fact that he still had a TV microphone attached to his tie. So the entire country heard as Mr. Brown referred to 'that bigoted woman'. Ah the perils of modern technology! Maybe Mr. Brown can take a lesson or two from Barack Obama and his Blackberry. In fact it is great to have a President who uses technology as comfortably as he gives speeches on a nuclear free world. Which reminds me, it is great to have a President who can actually pronounce 'nuclear' correctly. I simply cannot erase the image of George Bush going 'eh nuclar, erm nucular, ahem nuke-ular hehe'. Anyway that is quite a bit of digression. Coming back to the Brit elections on May 6, a new leader shall enter No. 10 Downing Street. And I can bet you my last bit of money that nobody is going to do a Sonia Gandhi and listen to their 'inner voice'.
Staying on in Britain and moving on to Arsenal. Actually let us move on from them as well. 1 draw and 4 defeats in the last 5 games. I should start supporting Mohun Bagan or East Bengal. At least they will give me something to cheer about on a regular basis.
In the British national sport then (which has quite certainly been hijacked by the Indians), the world cup is finally underway. More importantly the IPL is over. Which is quite a shame really. I was actually getting the hang of Zoozooing (verb: rapidly uttering incomprehensible mumbo jumbo, punctuated by high pitched squeals). And I had also almost overcome my urge to stick a pin into the hot air balloon which was pioneered by a company supposedly at the forefront of technological innovation in India. But the MRF Blimp is now gone. And it has taken the Zoozoos with it. What a pity. In the World Cup, as such, there is nothing much to write about as yet.The Pakistani team is still exceptionally well behaved. Will they still be as well behaved near the end of the tournament? I think a lesser surprise would be if Tiger Woods declared he was gay (yes the same Tiger Woods of 120 affairs in 5 years fame). So anyway, looking forward to some fireworks from the Pakistani team.
And this is almost certainly my last post from Turkish shores. I shall miss my Lahmacun, my Doner and my Tahinli Pide. Make no sense? Same here. All I know is that they are pretty delicious. Time for my palate worship then. Goodbye!

Sachin Tendulkar

When Sachin Tendulkar travelled to Pakistan to face one of the finest bowling attacks ever assembled in cricket, Michael Schumacher was yet to race a F1 car, Lance Armstrong had never been to the Tour de France, Diego Maradona was still the captain of a world champion Argentina team, Pete Sampras had never won a Grand Slam.
When Tendulkar embarked on a glorious career taming Imran and company, Roger Federer was a name unheard of; Lionel Messi was in his nappies, Usain Bolt was an unknown kid in the Jamaican backwaters. The Berlin Wall was still intact, USSR was one big, big country, Dr Manmohan Singh was yet to "open" the Nehruvian economy.
It seems while Time was having his toll on every individual on the face of this planet, he excused one man. Time stands frozen in front of Sachin Tendulkar. We have had champions, we have had legends, but we have never had a Sachin Tendulkar and we never will.
- Time Magazine


Happy Birthday Sachin Tendulkar

The Return - Yet Again

Yes! The return to Mixed Bag for yet another post. More than 2 weeks since I last spewed something here. During which, half formed ideas have spun through my head with Usain Bolt-esque speed without really forming anything concrete. Not that I have managed to come up with anything concrete at last, but it is my space and my drivel! The comments section is open for you.
So, they say 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scornd'. And what fury! A volcano erupted in Iceland throwing up enough ash to turn Europe topsy turvy. Flights cancelled, people on Easter holidays unable to get back, work coming to a standstill, it sure has been some eruption. Oh but wait! Where is the 'woman scornd'? That is an easy one now! Ayesha Siddique of course, the other Mrs. Shoaib Malik. Thought you could fly off easily into the sunset with Sania, eh Shoaib? Never that easy now, is it! In the meantime, I have a statutory warning for my tweet happy friends reading this. 'TWEETING WILL LOSE YOU YOUR JOB'. Don't believe me? Ask some of the most prolific tweeters. Shashi Tharoor. Or Lalit Modi(in a few days now). Or the mysterious Sunanda Pushkar. The woman's 'sweat equity' has now got Rahul Dravid thinking whether he can encash all those drenched shirts of his. Would be a billionaire if he did that, for sure.
In a parallel universe though, the slam bang continues. And so does Danny Morrison and his perversion. This time, displaying an intimate knowledge of fellow bleater L. Siva's anatomy. 'Gee Siva!!! That bat's got to be thicker than both your thighs put together'!!!! Right Mr. Morrison. If you are done with that and taking gratuitous upskirt views of the cheerleaders, can we have some punditry on the cricket please? Robin Jackman seems to have perfected that art though. So now, just by standing near a team dugout and looking conspirationally at the camera, you can make out what a team is thinking. 'They need more wickets'. Wink Wink!! Nice one Jackers!
Notwithstanding the advertisements though, this IPL has certainly given us some never seen before memorable sights. Sourav Ganguly diving, MS Dhoni punching himself in the face like a prize boxer, Sourav Ganguly stopping a ball while diving WITHOUT injuring himself in the bargain, Virender Sehwag having a strike rate of less than 100 in an innings in any form of cricket, Sourav Ganguly actually pulling off a blinder of a catch intentionally and many more. Bring on the semis now!
And lastly moving on to the highly depressing Gunners. Flattened by Lionel Messi, a first league defeat to hated rivals in 11 years and a defeat to a team which had last beaten them when Elvis Presley was still the 'King of Rock and Roll'. The last one, coming after throwing away a 2-0 lead in the last 10 mins, nearly made me go into hibernation. As the inevitable talks of 'next season being The Season' are rolled out yet again, the cash happy thug, Emmanuel Adebayor returns during the weekend. Can the Gunners wipe that self satisfied smirk off his face? I think Vivek Oberoi has a higher chance of starring in a movie, which would remotely classify as a 'hit'. Please Arsene! Do something. Show him who is the boss!
So then, till the next time I take a laxative to cure my writer's block again! Adios!

Confused and nauseated

Apologies. I have been so busy following the IPL, that updating the blog never came to my mind. More on the IPL and its surprisingly insightful commentators later though.
For all the people who regularly read this piece of literary finesse (some liken it to verbal diarrhoea, but every one is entitled to their own opinion, hmph!), you would know that picking on the Shiv Sena is one of my pet hobbies. Not surprising that, considering they serve up morsels of hare-brained schemes as regularly as Shashi Tharoor tweets. Things were getting pretty serious and grown up in the world of politics. The health care bill was passed in Yankeeland, the right to education bill was passed in India, the SIT grilled Narendra Modi for 9 straight hours on his role in the 2002 riots. Heck, we needed some juvenile frivolity. And right on cue, our Sainiks stepped up to the plate. Sania Mirza cannot be a true Indian if she is marrying a Pakistani. If she had India's best interests at heart, she would have married an Indian. Supreme logic sir. One tiny little question though. I have heard Ajmal Kasab speaks Marathi these days and asks for Indian newspapers. So I assume that makes him a dyed in the wool Mumbaikar. So by your logic, is Ajmal Kasab more of an Indian than Sania Mirza? Oops! I nearly used Shiv Sena and logic in the same sentence. My bad.
Staying on with Pakistan. One of their finest cricketers announced his retirement after having a life ban slapped on him. But Mohammad Yousuf says he might appeal against his ban. For what purpose exactly Yousuf? To stay retired? Meanwhile closer home, the IPL is on in full swing and the commentators are slowly getting into their groove. Danny Morrison though, is so well into his groove that the groove is threatening to become a canyon. The man goes ballistic when he sees the Double Ds and Pandee (Manish Pandey). And then just to calm himself down, he has a look at Virat 'Cool as a cucumber' Coolie. Perverted and racist, Mr. Morrison. You should be hit for a DLFer. Two commentators really working hard to impress their boss are our own L. Siva and ICL returnee Russel Arnold. So while Russel laments 'Shame he is 25. He is such a good player but cannot be considered for the Citi Under-23 Success of the tournament', Siva takes it further with 'That should have been a Karbonn Kamaal catch, but it has gone for a DLF Maximum and it is a Citi Moment of Success for the batting side. Time now, for a Max Mobile Strategic Time Out for the bowling side.' He needs a pay raise Mr. Modi, are you listening? And of course, the sight of the MRF Blimp makes all our commentators go wild with delight as each takes pains to outdo the other in describing how it is the eighth wonder of the world.
In football, I am still recovering from the effects of the Arsenal-Barcelona match. With the match poised at 2-2, next Tuesday will have them squaring off at the Camp Nou. Considering the way the first leg was played, I am hoping for collective amnesia to strike the entire Barca team and they forget how to kick a ball for 90 minutes. Will that give us victory? Wait and watch.
Till next week then (hopefully). Ciao!