Somebody is Crazy

And it ain't me. Well, the soccer game was Thursday night. We showed up clad in our Next U blues ready for action. When Ipps went to meet briefly with the other team, they responded "Oh crap, these guys have jerseys! We're sure to lose now!" Let's run down the numbers here.
3: Number of goals we scored (Hooray!)
2: Number of goals scored by Parker, our best player
1: Number of goals scored by someone other than Parker (SOMEONE OTHER THAN PARKER SCORED!)
10: Number of goals scored by the other team. Ouch.
1: Number of broken noses (Drippy's nose was totally pwned)
10:40: the start time, in the evening of the game.

In short, we got owned. Hard. Ipps was about to throw up after his first stint, while Chris actually did throw up a bit. It was pretty intense. We were playing with a pretty much full squad, with five and a goalie on the field, with four subs at the ready. Initially, Parker took goal, but after noticing that we had a hard time running our offense, switched out with Codey. Immediately, our game started picking up, as Parker managed to score two goals, and also set up our other goal in short order. We were feeling good. Then halftime hit and we burst out of the gates. Things were going well until Drippy took an elbow to the nose, breaking it and taking him out of the game. It was a total accident, but it definitely put something of a damper on things. Suddenly, instead of four subs available, we were down to three. At that point, we started feeling winded, and not a little bit demoralized. Sauten's ankle swelled up to the size of a softball, and we were suddenly down to two subs available. Things were not looking good. By the end of the match, we were pretty badly beaten. Ipps and I staggerd out to his car, exhausted, with steam rising from our bodies as if we were characters from bad anime powering up for an ultimate attack. I downed a bottle of gatorade and collapsed into the passenger seat.
"Thank god the next game is only at 6 pm instead of 10:40 pm," I mumbled.
"No kidding," Ipps replied.
There is this saving grace: we were not shut out. We'll be back on Tuesday, ready for another fast and furious game. Hopefully this one will go a bit better.

Where Eagles Dare

I swear, I ain't no goddamned son of a bitch!
Okay, now that I've gotten the Misfits out of my system for the night, a brief recap of things in the life that I lead:
1) Yesterday was my birthday, celebrating my 24th year on this, the third planet from our star. To celebrate, a crew from work (plus Trev and Sean) headed down to O'Daugherty's for lunch, and some good old fashioned (mostly) Irish food. I essentially had Guinness and, well, Guinness for lunch in the form of a pint of Guinness and some Guinness-battered fish and chips (the best there is, natch!).
2) Soccer season starts tomorrow. With a game at 11 o'clock in the evening. The team will be wiped come Friday morning, I suspect. On a related note, we got our team jerseys today, and I must say damn, we look awesome. Hopefully they will serve as a means to intimidate our opponents into letting us win.
3) We are in the midst of a sort-of crunch right now, as we demo our product to a client in NJ. As a result, there's a code-freeze on, meaning that I have been spending most of my time on the Army project doing the chat review they should be doing. This is the part of the job that is at once hilarious and soul-crushingly depressing. Hilarious because people actually ask things like "can I have sex with my platoon," and soul-crushingly depressing because so many of them actually try to bear their inner thoughts and dreams to what is essentially a robot. I suppose that could be an accurate description of life (hilarious and depressing all at the same time, not sex with platoons), but suffice it to say that my survival mechanism has been a thickly-developed shell of irony. And to think we give these people guns...
4) Thanksgiving is next week, and the folks are coming out, which will be a fantastic time, I suspect. Woo-hoo! Plus, it'll be a short week, which is always awesome.