Translate

Something about this bloggie

Ok, I admit that I've failed somewhere before. But anyway welcome. Just a brief intro on what you should expect here:
1. Football. Not gonna post much of that any soon since season is over. :S
2. Anime, Games, etc. Just abt anything conceivable under the Japanese radar barring anything and everything Rule 34. Now that's illegal. Period. -.-;
3. Music. Everything to do with it is listed under the tab.
5. Unacceptable humour: Anything and everything is fair game here. As long as I don't get rounded up by the ISA. -.-'

6.
The Known World=Fantasy world building in process. I: Used to be glossary, now devoted to random rambling; II: Character Concepts; III: Lore.
7. der Wolf=my Fictionpress account under the moniker Tsumujikaze no Soujutsu. A Ranger's Tale is hosted under this page. :)
8. New section now upped. Maybe I should also gun for upping A Ranger's Tale here since I do have this funny feeling that traffic coming to here is way more than whatever I'll get in FP.

Statement of intent: Everything said here is a figment of personal opinion, be it me or anybody commenting. I try to be responsible, but my parents=/=parents of the world.

@Druid of Luhn: Crap. Should have remembered far earlier to give you the credit for your CSS text box code. :(

A/N: But sadly, it seems that your CSS text box code has now been halved efficiency wise. :(

That most important note I should have added: Any images posted in this blog are NOT my own stuff. I got them from Google image search, I don't earn any shit by being a thief and liar. Those responsible for the pictures, rest assured that you all are great artists in your own regards. Sadly, we all know what limited space means in terms of posting.

Latest Note: Changed alignment for my page widgets due to my worry that I can't centre align the thing.

Note on A Ranger's Tale: In case any complaining fella wants to have a legal case with me, let this be known that A Ranger's Tale is rated M by default. I've upped the swearing and somewhat a bit on the dark/gritty factor. You all have been warned, let no little boy and girl enter the forbidden realm.

Latest on ART: A Ranger's Tale now starting to kick back in gear. But I really hate the insanely fluctuating climate here in S'pore.

P.S: Oh, and one more thing. Vid below is yet another ideal OP for A Ranger's Tale.

Wednesday, 13 March 2013

Four nil to Barca vs AC Milan and kosong for Boro next season?


And I don't think there's a need for me to include Mogga's gaffer message...

WARNING!!!!
Yes, I know Barca whacked 4 goals to nil last early morn, but Boro will still be my first love and trust me when I say I may end up spouting vulgarities because I need to go full on North East mode this time round. If you can't handle words I'm used to censoring 90% of the time, please go away. I will not be responsible for corrupting any little boy/girl just because someone forgot to inform their parents.

Firstly...
WTF went wrong here?! Just when I believed we've tided over the kind of fucking stupid nightmare we're used to seeing from Gareth Southgate and Bryan Robson, the entire team fucked things up again! This has to be the most fucked up run of form I've ever seen post Southgate (and NOT even Gordon Strachan's era would have justified any fucking comparison at all!).

To me, the problem is very real and very simple. Someone forgot to tell our lads that one win doesn't define a potential run, one half of a season doesn't define one ENTIRE season! Guys, please! If we can secure a 2-1 win at home against Cardiff despite the form book prior to kick off, we should be able to fuck teams like Bristol City! But hey guess what? We got fucked yet AGAIN, we've truly fucked it yet AGAIN! Anyone remembered how Everton collapsed spectacularly against Wigan at Goodison Park? Well, every Toffee blue should count their blessings in a way. Try telling any Boro fan "hey, we've fucked it against Wigan in a cup tie!" and said Boro fan will tell you "Bah, so what? We've fucked it countless times! 2013 times fucked, and you all better try counting your blessings 'cuz you didn't lose 2-0 against a team like Bristol City!" Everything is just like Robb Stark fucked everything, folks. We might as well start playing The Rains of Castamere as our new club anthem even before the imminent ending of March.

And srsly, my fellow Boro-thers in arms, even Ned has never fucked things up THAT badly

The time is now, the time is now for every Teesside faithful to call ourselves Sad Smoggie Bastards. If all the SMB and SGB end up mocking at us, it means we only have ourselves to blame.

Firstly and foremost, let limlaopeh be lagi damned forthright in saying that the key factor behind Boro fucking up lies in a chronic inability to keep ourselves focused. In short, this has nothing to do with Mogga's pseudo 4-4-2/4-5-1 lineup. Simply put, he can go on and on about a 4-3-3 expansive counter attacking and I'll be the first one to say that a single cock up from the backline will kill us effectively 10 out of 10 times. A lot of disgruntled fans are now complaining over Mogga's tactics and I'll be the first to say "don't sack him, but he has to shoulder a part of the stick".

Why? Because there's NOTHING wrong with his approach PRE-MATCH. Once things get into gear, what are you gonna do upon your back 4 fucking up? Keep on pouring forward just because we're still 1-0 lagging behind? FUCK NO! I'm not Mogga, I don't boss the dressing room, I do not dictate anything on the drawing board. But to me, this approach is still basically okay so long as we GO 1-0 up AND bossing the match first!

Everything is now a confidence crisis building up from the back. Our frontline are pretty much potent and our backline are pretty much a lower tiered top flight quality rather than a mere second flight quality.

The only problem? We're talking abt everything on paper. On paper, I can win with 10000 men against a mere 1000 men. On paper, Cao Cao should have raped Zhao Yun during the Battle of Han River while Sun Quan should have done the same to Zhang Liao as well during the Battle of Xiaoyao Ford. But hey, guess what? Cao Cao got raped instead and ditto for Suna Quan also.

Actual 4-3-3 out of reach then?
Again, I do NOT see anything wrong with Mogga's approach. Firstly, going 1-0 down isn't then end of the world. A sudden collapse due to an overzealous approach will be our undoing at this point of time. This is nowhere different from West Bromwich Albion last time round where a cavalier approach became the chief cause of relegation.

Mogga ain't a shit manager. Rather, he IS a talented manager. My only worry this time round is that in spite of learning a lot in the process of his Celtic days, his stubborn streak still remains imo. I know he's a humble bloke, I know he's truly a nice bloke. We all know that Boro's current red alert status has hurt him the most and I'm being truthful here when I say EVERY true blue North East lion in red (including this NATO lobo as well) should feel for Mogga atm.

I truly doubt an overhaul of tactics is needed. It's just about how to prioritise under the worst case scenario.

Firstly, if we can go 1-0 up, let's go 1-0 up first. Our current form is one where initial impetus should be the key factor.

Secondly, we need to change approach upon going 1-0 down. Fortify from the back all the way till our entire half. Let every opponent fear our strength in adversity firstly and foremost before we start teaching them a thing or two about the real 4-3-3. Remember the local produce of Teesside? Steel shouldn't be there as a mere commodity. It should be there to symbolise what WE are capable of under severe circumstances!

Thirdly, and I'm truly sad to admit this much: We might have fucked it ever since we lost the plot against Millwall at home. Chances are that we will have a mountain to climb here, we might NOT truly make the much desired cut come end of season.

And lastly that lingering hope still considered legit - If we truly fuck it this season, Mogga still must STAY. He must NOT go because in spite of a perceived sense of tactical stubbornness, he's still our best bet as the correct gaffer because:
1. He has the passion now rarely seen.
2. 1986=Been there, done that.
3. I truly doubt no other gaffer will dare to touch us with a ten ft pole if Gibson is to sack him. At least Blackburn has done something right in employing Michael Appleton and sticking by him despite Shebby "talk cock" Singh's earlier stance on younger managers.

But the real deal we can still bank on? Amazingly enough, I've just checked the table and it will NEVER lie. We're only a fucking WIN away from reclaiming that last playoff berth. Enough talk abt auto promotion. Only a retard will say "hey, we still have hope for 1st or 2nd!" b/c we should just try setting up the lowest bar for ourselves first (coincidentally something of an advice which I've given to a fellow writer who used to be in a confidence crisis).

In fact, Championship football for the last few seasons has been extremely topsy turvy. Newcastle was damned lucky enough to get promoted prior to this crazy trend setting in to be objectively fair. In short, let us not mind what the chasing pack are capable of. Yet, we must also not say "hey, let's ignore them and let us concentrate on ourselves!"

Simply put, not only must we be mentally prepared for the best where we can AND will leapfrog those above, but more importantly enough, we must be mentally prepared in losing any given match. Let's keep ourselves in perspective and use it to... ~drumroll now, guys~

CREATE A SIEGE MENTALITY

Our biggest shit lies in a gross lack of backs-against-the-wall strength.
Everyone wants to beat us up.
Everyone wants that much wanted promotion shot/relegation jailbreak.
Everyone wants to prove something even with nothing to fight for.

As for us?
Well, so do we in giving all comers that fuck you lesson!


The time came when Cormac Mac Art died and his son Cairpre became High King of Ireland in his place.  Cairpre did not like the Fianna and their power and plotted daily to find ways to destroy Fionn and his men.  

Cairpre had a daughter Sgeimh Solais who was getting married and a great banquet was being held.  It was customary for the High King to give the Fianna twenty bars of gold as an extra fee for protecting Ireland and for them to send their youngest member to collect this tribute.  This time it was a young man named Ferdia who went to collect the tribute.  Although Fionn and his men waited all day outside the walls of Tara for Ferdia to return there was no sign of him until at last he arrived as a corpse flung over the walls of Tara with the mocking words of Cairpre 'The Fianna have demanded from the Kings of Tara for too long, this will be their only answer from now on.  Fionn was thoroughly enraged and strode up to the walls of Tara shouting 'Cairpre Mac Cormac you have just sealed your fate with this action beware the next time we meet!'

Then he and all his men returned to Allmu to prepare for war.  There were those in the Fianna who preferred to remain loyal to the High King and would not join with Fionn.  In the end he only had his own clan Bascna, and those of Leinster under the Captaincy of his grandson Oscar, and the army of King Feircobh of Munster.  This was 3500 men in all.

Cairpre on the other hand had all the warriors of Tara at his side as well as the clan of Morna, for although Goll remained true to him the rest of his clan hated Fionn for ousting Goll from the chieftainship of the Fianna.  These were 2000 men led by Fear-Taigh and Fear-Ligh Mac Morna the younger brothers of Goll.  Then Cairpre also had a 1000 men each from the tribes of Ulster and Connaught.  From The men of the Snows, and the Men of the Green Swords and the Men of the Green Lion, he also had a thousand each.  Each company led by one of the sons of Urgriu.  In all it was a company of 10,000 men that Fionn had to meet with his own small force.  The meeting place was at Gabhra which lay to the west of Tara.

It was a terrible battle with many losses on either side.  There was none who fought more bravely than Oscar son of Oisín, so that men said it was his day.  He slew 100 of the men of the Green Swords and 140 of the Men of the Lion.  Until at last he came face to face with Cairpre himself.  He cast his spear at Cairpre, which passed right through his body to the other side but Cairpre struck out at Oscar with his final gasp of strength which almost killed him.  Yet when he saw that Cairpre's men had set his helmet on a pillar so that it might seem that  he was still alive, Oscar drew upon his last bit of strength to fling a small stone which struck the helm and broke it in pieces.  Unfortunately he himself fell down dead with the effort.

Then Caoilte Mac Ronan and Conan Maol lamented the death of the great Fenian, and together they lifted and carried him to where Fionn stood.  There amid the tumult of battle Fionn gave a great cry of anguish and raised the Diord Fionn the cry of the Fianna.  He said a few words over the body of his grandson before he again plunged into the thick of battle.  He was still a strong man though his hair and beard were white as flax, and in his shining war coat and helmet of gold he was an awesome figure to all his enemies.

He killed Fear-Taigh and Fear-Ligh Mac Morna and many dozens of warriors from the men of Connaught and the men of Ulster.  Then at last he had to face the five sons of Urgriu when Fionn saw them he let his shield fall which was all hacked to pieces and went to meet them with his great sword grasped in both hands.  There he perished that day at  the Battle of Gabhra and that was the end of the might of the Fianna for never again did they hunt at Cnoc Fianna, or Ben Bulben or Slieve Cua or Slieve Crot.

Glaine ár gcroí!
(Purity of our hearts)
Neart ár ngéag!
(Strength of our limbs)
Beart de réir ár mbriathar!
(Action to match our speech)

~The Diord Fionn~