20,000,000,000 to nil

In only a few hours the revolutionary war will start all over again with the United States playing England in both team's first game of the world cup. An exciting prospect indeed, and it is made even more exciting by all the hype and advertising the match has received, and by the fact that this is the United States best chance to advance in the tournament in quite some time. This match is like Rocky vs. Winston churchill: 90 minutes of mayhem!

Of course, the English aren't worried, and we all remember how not worrying has turned out for them in the past:

"Aww come on guys, its just Poland!"

They are the heavy favorite and ,if you were to listen to them, you would think that the game will be a complete and utter rout. But i don't listen to anyone, ever! And neither should you. So if you are listening to someone right now, stop. Stop it! Anyway, America seems to have decent chances, and I'm pretty sure our coach is a robot, which is awesome!

In any event, as I see it, there are only 4 ways this thing can pan out:

The Complete and Utter Rout

"Our goals will blot out the sun!"

England holds true to their word and delivers an unholy beatdown of scoring. Wayne Rooney spends the first few minutes of the match calmly sipping tea with David James (keeper) in the center of their goal while the rest of the team attempts to be as condescending as possible, which will lower the american's self esteem to such an extent that they will simply lay face down and cry while the english score whenever they grow tired of laughing. Finally, Rooney will exit the stadium at half time and finish the match scoring goals all the way from England, because he can.

The Hallmark Original Movie

".............." - Everyone

Estimated score: "............"

90 minutes of a pack of men kicking a ball around a field. Nothing awesome happens. At least nothing as awesome as Paul Pierce punching a guy in the face because he was just that pumped. This would end in a tie, which is bad for england, but good for us and therefor this result is acceptable.

The Cluster-Fuck

Imagine this, but with cleats!

Estimated Score: No one can find the score keepers

This is when shit hits the fan. Red cards, red cards, red cards, and more red cards. It is well known that when soccer players perform horribly, they get frustrated, and when they get frustrated, they shout, and when they shout they get angry, and you wouldn't like them when they are angry because they fucking kill people. The grass of South Africa will be fed with the blood of footballers if this sort of match occurs. Expect bullshit like this to happen, too.

The Pwnage Fiesta

I don't believe what I'm seeing but it appears that George washington has appeared in the middle of the pitch! He looks about 12 stories high and seemingly is made out of radiation. He's got possession of the ball and OH GOD NO!!! NO!!! N.........." transmission cut off.

Estimated score: 20,000,000,000 to 0, US wins

America owns. Hard. This match will go down in history as the most fucking insane thing to happen during anything ever. There will be no survivors. June the 12th will be stricken from calendars for over 1000 years and england doesn't play soccer again. Ever. This is obviously the most desirable option, since america gets 3 points, and those points will be valuable in advancing beyond the group stage. America would alot of momentum behind it after a victory of this caliber, which will help in the later matches. Downside: whichever stadium the match takes place in will be a crater, which wouldn't really be fair to south africa.

Regardless of which outcome the game ends up being, I'm super excited. I've spent most of my four hour work shift reading previews online. As a comment to one of the ESPN articles someone posted the Metallica song don't tread on me. I thought that was pretty good advice. So to England I suppose the only thing to say is this: Don't tread on me... or us, rather. The U.S. Or maybe it would be Don't tread on them (the team). In fact, I believe it would be in Englands best interest to tread on no one. I hear they frown on that in soccer, unless of course you could manage to touch the ball. Then you could do all the treading you wished! So i guess what I'm saying here is don;t tread on the us team unless you have managed to touch the ball, and if you have managed to touch the ball and are ready to tread, please tread lightly.

Power Leg(s)!

In anticipation of the World cup, my roommate and I have been, as we call it, practicing soccer, or, as onlookers call it, flailing about like idiots. It has been a wonderful way to spend my afternoons, apart for the swarms of gnats that seem to think my head is an all you can land buffet. It isnt. Unfortunately, I have recently come down with a self diagnosed condition I like to call "Soccer leg." Since I am right footed, my right leg has been infused with incredible power while my left leg has resigned itself to wither away in disuse. The problems with this are twofold: firstly, my right leg is slightly larger and more buff than my left and scientists speculate that if the current trend continues my right leg will continue its unparalleled growth and, I fear, end up absorbing my left leg, much like a fratricidal twin in the womb, and I will be left with one all-powerful Gargantuleg. Secondly, as I discovered today whilst running, the extra use that has given my right leg it's strength also weakens it after a soccer practice, and around a mile into my run I found myself with an over-exerted right leg. This was my left legs chance! It desperately wanted me to press on, but sadly for me (and for my left leg) all I could manage was a swift hobble, which is slower than a lethargic stroll. All seemed lost. It was not however a total waste, for my slowness of pace did allow me to take note of my fellow "runners" and I, like any insane person would have done, began to categorize them into several Archetypes, 5 of which i will display now.

The Running Archetypes

A study by Charles Brock

1. Fat Woman With Dog

The first person one sees on a running path is always a fat woman. With a dog. They seem to congregate around the beginning of paths and never stray father than the middle. Pink of face and heavy of step, these woman are oft found with comically large water bottles and are always in some sort of pink exercise attire, most likely bought at the same store. Why they have the dog is a mystery to me. It's not like they are taking a stroll down MLK blvd or the DMZ between the two Koreas. What use is a dog? The dogs themselves are seldom terrifying, or even worrisome. Their stature could best be described as bite-sized. I began to think that every obese woman just naturally brought a dog everywhere they went, be it walking on a path, McDonald's, surgery or any number of other activities. But then I became aware of some fat women heading towards me with no dogs at all. This puzzled me for quite some time, because i seemed to remember that these women used to have dogs. Where could they have gone? And then I realized that the main difference between obese women with and without dogs wasn't something tangible, it was merely a matter of time. For you see, they headed down the trail with their furry friends in tow, yet they returned with nothing but full(er) bellies. They had been eaten!

2. The Inexplicable Children

The inexplicable children are possibly the most baffling archetype of all. They are simply kids, wandering about on the running trail for no reason whatsoever, and doing nothing apart from being bothersome. If someone tripped over a child they could seriously injure themselves! These kids are just wandering about with no supervision whatsoever, getting in everyone's way. I mean, who fucking does that?? Who lets their kids wander around a running path by a busy road?? If I were a child molester, my job (hobby?) would have been made laughably easy by these inept parents. They would take to being kidnapped like daisies to a plucking...

Moreover, who are these children? Where did they come from? Where are their parents? Why are they galavanting about on a running path? The answer to these questions, however, lie in the same place as the answers to the questions of Lost: nowhere.

"You mean you actually watched the whole thing? LOL!"

3. Bike Guy

The second most feared archetype in the outdoor fitness world, this guy doesn't give a damn about anyone or anything except biking and pissing people off. He will run you down as if you were the little kid in gladiator and not even think twice about it, and there is no Russel Crowe to exact revenge for you (probably). For some reason he prefers to bike on paths too narrow to pass obese walking dog ladies, or even regular runners/strollers/squirrels/anything. And yet he does pass...with a vengeance. Most often when bikes are coming up on you, you hear the clank of metal or the bike chain or something, but not when this asshole approaches. When this guy comes up on you, you'll only know it by a whoosh of air to your left, an unexplainable bike which has just appeared 20 meters in front of you and is receding at a breakneck speed, and a vague feeling that you should be dead but have somehow narrowly avoided your fate. Since I didn't have my scanner with me I couldn't get an accurate reading when a bike guy passed by me today, but his power level must have been somewhere in the range of 9000!

But there was no way that could be right...

4. Out of Place Couple

Most people come outside to exercise, but not these guys. Normally a middle aged husband and wife, these people may not be burning the calories, but they like to pretend that they are. They dress up in sporting paraphernalia and have water bottles, so they are exercising, right? They often wander side to side on the path in unpredictable patterns that can be hazardous to other trail users.

5. The Silver Bullet

The most feared man in the running world, the silver bullet is indeed a force to be reckoned with. He is faster than many runners will ever be in their prime, and the dude is 90 something years old! Like the bike guy, the only thing keeping the silver bullet alive is the constant movement and endorphin rush of running, and run he does. Faster than the dreaded Cassowary, the silver bullet can even reach speeds fast enough to travel back in time! Who could make it so that you were never born. Or he could be your father. Perhaps he is everyone's father. Who can know except for him? Some even attribute near magical powers to him, akin to the force. Be afraid.

"Skateboarding on my sidewalk, you young rascals? FEEL MY RAGE!"