Thursday Afternoon Haterade!

Thursday, May 27, 2010 | View Comments
Sacha Kljestan, because none of my jokes are as funny as that "mustache."


I think we've all gotten over the initial shock of yesterday's selections but still, wow. I mean who saw that one coming? 24 years old, and your biggest dreams coming true? Captivating the hearts of a nation and swaying the opinions of some of the world's foremost judges of talent? Congratulations to Lee Dewyze, and a good ole "nice try" to Crystal.


Oh, and Robbie "Even his mother knows he has no chance" Findley is going to the World Cup. Whoops. Mea Culpa on that one, guys. But hey, thanks. Where would bloggers be if we didn't have readers to nitpick every single throwaway joke weeks after we've made them? I kid, I kid. I'm just happy someone besides Jason's mom is reading the site.


Speaking of soccer bloggers, I'm convinced that's how Bobby tracksuit (kudos for his ability to put on khakis to meet the three of the most influential men in the World) picked his World Cup squad.


"You know how everybody thinks Ching is a lock, EJ is my homeboy, Robbie Findley has about as much of a shot as I do when making my annual run at Amy Wynalda, and that I'm going to make Buddle and Gomez work a spot out Thunderdome style? Screw 'em. And I'm gonna take Feilhaber and Torres and leave out my pet project Bedoya. Ever see a blogosphere crap its pants out of shock? Well you will."


Speaking of crapping your pants, who else enjoyed watching the comedy of errors at left back Tuesday night? Jonathan Bornstein looked more lost out there than the tribe of Reuben. Aaron Lennon is already practicing signing a copy of The Sun with a terrible pun on the front page. Heath Pearce looked about as interested in defending as Marcus Hahnemann does at a performance of The Vagina Monologues. "But there's always Bocanegra!" cry the hilariously optimistic US fans. Yep, the same Bocanegra who just had a hernia operation and spent most of the evening filling his finely tuned body with burgers and buffalo wings.


At least it's American junk food. Wouldn't want his time at Rennes turning him into some frog-leg munching nancy boy, like some twisted continental version of Brad Friedel. Or John Harkes, when he tries to drop slang.


Speaking of of Mr. Amy Wynalda (I know! Two Amy Wynalda jokes in one post. I'm so cutting edge, like Vanilla Ice's heavy metal album.), he sounds like an idiot when paired with JP Dellacamera. Putting him in a booth with Martin Tyler is like playing co-op Halo 3 with your friend who spends 6 hours a day on X-Box Live. Either way, it's not pretty. Brad Guzan levels of not pretty.


Tyler and Harkes isn't so much Abbot and Costello as it is Abbot and Carlos Mencia. But hey, it could be worse. I mean, it's not like our three best central defenders have serious health issues and our most important striker couldn't get playing time at one of the most abominable teams in Premiership history, right? I mean, that would bum me out like Taylor Twellman after TMZ's over.


Well, crap.


Better start working your ass off, Landon.
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