So you’re probably wondering what the heck happened to this blog. Maybe even me. You know, I set up this blog, I rambled on cue every couple of days for a few years, and then, just like that, I got nothing. Nothing but old, moldy posts. Posts with expiration dates older than ones tattooed on approximately 90% of the dairy products in my fridge.
Here’s short of it: First, something remarkable happened. Like, made-for-TV-movie remarkable. At least that’s what my buddy Mario tells me.
In April, I reconnected with a childhood friend that I, literally, hadn’t said a word to since elementary school. The last time we chatted, Bubba was in the rookie year of his presidency, Letterman was funnier than Leno, and MLS was still nothing more than a promise to FIFA. Skip ahead sixteen years and – wouldn’t you know it - right before me was the most beautiful, intelligent and witty girl I’d ever met. Again.
As luck – and trust me, it was ALL luck - would have it, she not only took a liking to me, but went five steps further and lovingly accepted my obsession with soccer.* Bless her heart. Girls like her don’t grow on trees. She even watched all three Goal movies because of me.** Yeah, I’m pretty sure I hit the girlfriend jackpot.
(* Not that you need to know, but seven days seems to be my personal make-or-break mark for potential dating partners. That magical first week is often me doing nothing more than blabbing about favorite players, favorite clubs, the transfer window, Total Football, and, of course, Fredy Montero’s fauxhawk to anyone semi-interest. Well, at least she sounded interested. Hey, I never said I was smooth. Anywho, it should be noted that any chick that endures a week’s worth soccer talk is, for all intents and purposes, a keeper. No pun intended.)
(** She liked Goal 1. She thought Goal 2 was OK. I wasn’t even allowed to watch Goal 3, which she said was “really bad.” Based upon the final 45 minutes of Goal 2 – where Santi suddenly discovers his ego then proceeds to piss off everyone but gov’nor Harris – I’ll take her word for it.)
Next, I went to China to visit aforementioned girlfriend. That in itself is a story I could probably spend about 6,891,074 words on. I’ll more than likely sprinkle some those words in here and there on the blog. It was crazy – but in a really, really good way.
Shortly thereafter, I came back home and applied to grad school for my M.A. in English, and was promptly advised by the program director that, in so many words, my writing sucked. Of course, that’s not what she said verbatim, but I could see it in her eyes. “You’re not good.” “Your application is a joke.” “Your vocabulary is comparable to that of a baby sea otter.” The eyes…they never lie.
Finally, I moved out. Yes, I took my first true step – albeit a few years delayed- into adulthood by getting my own pad. And I done did it at the ripe age of 28! It’s still weird to not wake up and have the family cat, the newspaper, and a four-course breakfast waiting for me downstairs. OK, so I may have lied about the breakfast. But, the new digs does have one pretty cool perk – the incredibly-understanding girlfriend waiting there to cook for me!*
(*Certain exclusions apply.)
So there you have it – eight months’ time ‘splained in seven paragraphs!
But in all seriousness, things seem to be finally settling down a bit. It was a whirlwind 2009. Twenty Ten (yes, that’s what I’m calling it) owes me the chance to catch my breath.
So, my resolution is to get back to this whole blogging business. I’ve always had a lot to say. After all, you don’t just stop being Portuguese. And God knows I had reservoirs of opinions after the U.S. shocked Spain (and nearly followed up with an encore against Brazil) in the Confederations Cup then laid an egg vs. Mexico in the Gold Cup. But time wasn’t my ally. I know what it sounds like – the old “so much to say, so little time to say it” excuse. But it’s the truth. And for sticking around here long enough to welcome me back, it’s the least I could offer.
That, and more semi-intelligible rants. Rants about, but in no way limited to, the World Cup, the U.S. 2018/2022 bid, the new NASL, the Revs, the Breakers, the Anchormen & Anchorwomen, and, of course, Rhode Island’s favorite fourth-division side: the Stingrays.
OK, so maybe this wasn’t as short as I originally intended. Here’s hoping additional explanations won’t be necessary this year.