Here Versus There

12 11 2018

Sassuolo, Italy

Yeah, that’s something I’ve noticed since at first vacationing in and then not long later moving to Germany.

A difference between the official professional sporting and athletics cultures of the United States and Europe.

Here in Europe, there are constant non-stop official public moralist preening campaigns against “racism in sport.”

In the United States?  Not so much.  Sure, we’ve got the occasional dork in Orlando with a fax machine.  But that’s it.

That begs the question:  Why the difference?

I think the answer relates to the concept of necessity.  In the United States, nobody has to instruct white sports fans never to take their own side in a political debate, because they’ve willingly surrendered their racial courage, because the nearby sports team, college or pro, needs to win games.  Meanwhile, and in contrast, here in Europe, professional sports, especially soccer, and the way they’re organized from the ground up, the grass roots up, serve as an easy conduit for the development of populist-nationalist politics.  (Here and here, and also most of the street protesters in Chemnitz several weeks ago are also soccer hooligan types)  Even if the soccer teams themselves have rosters that are half non-white.

Europe’s obsession with “racism in sport,” therefore, is nothing more than an attempt to cut off the ability to use locally organized soccer clubs as a base for organization/recruitment on behalf of populist-nationalist political parties.

Back to this article, there’s this:

When you go to Germany, you see the people go on the street. There are maybe three, four thousand racists walking on the street and have the right to walk on the street and put their arm up and do the Hitler sign.

That’s news to me.  There are all sorts of vigorously enforced laws about displaying public support for, as it is officially termed in German public parlance, “unconstitutional organizations.”  My reading of my German news sources indicates that it’s about a once a week thing that someone’s catching a case for something like that.

Kevin-Prince Boateng has a more famous brother with the same surname, whom I have discussed in this space in the past.

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I Miss Playing Golf (Big But)

9 08 2018

Town and Country

I took in the first day morning rounds this morning at Bellerive for the PGA Championship.

This will be the only day I go.

Twenty-six years ago, when the same major tournament was at the same club, I also went.  It’s where I first heard of Phil Mickelson, who from that day continuing to the present became my favorite golfer of the current playing generation.  A little later, I first saw his ultra-hot wife on TV.

It all makes me realize how much I miss playing golf.

But I’m about four weeks way from one hell of a consolation prize, one that I’d take eight days out of every seven every week instead of being able to play golf, and frankly, one I would not be getting right now if I still had the ability to play golf.





Oh Nick…

1 08 2018

Queens

Really?

“Beat the Mets, beat the Mets, step right up and sweep the Mets…”





Frequent Filer

31 07 2018

Your Blogmeister’s Secret Hideout

Tobe Namedlater is going to do a whole lot of traveling today.  Constantly moving back and forth among thirty cities.

Poor guy seems to suffer this fate every July 31.





Ladies and Gentlemen, These Are Your 2018 St. Louis Cardinals

24 07 2018

Cincinnati

A rookie pitcher a year separated from a TBI and brain surgery throws a no-hitter through seven.

Because his pitch count was high, our interim mangler sat him.

In those seven innings, the bats banged out all of one run of support behind him.

How did it turn out in the final two innings?

You read the title.





A Mighty Repeat Button Is Our God

18 07 2018

Moscow;  Paris

A seemingly half black “French” team won the World Cup.  I’m sure the media and the blue checks on Jackass Dorsey’s microblogging service have already started in on their ZOMG DIVERSITY LOL~!!!!!1 cheerleading.  Paris is holding a week long Car-B-Que.

Every white country is supposed to let the whole world pour in at will, because Kylian Mbappé and Paul Pogba.

Soccer is the new restaurants.

I predict that, four years from now, someone named LePen will garner a “shockingly” good result in the Presidential election, and someone in the media or a blue check will whine that all the positive good will for diversity that came from France winning the World Cup four years prior has all been wasted, was all for naught.

How can I predict that?

Twenty years ago at this time, a seemingly half black “French” team won the World Cup, in Paris, to boot.  The media spent weeks gloating about the benefits of diversity.  Paris held a week long Car-B-Que.

Four years after, someone named LePen shocked the political world by making the runoff in the Presidential election.  The media whined that all the positive good will for diversity that came from France winning the World Cup four years prior was all wasted and was all for naught.

That’s one of the good things about getting older.  I’ve seen it all before, so I know what to expect.  I’m starting to think that God Himself isn’t so much a supernatural spiritual force, but instead a repeat button.

That’s how I know all this “Abolish ICE” malarkey is a bunch of go-nowhere dead-end hot air, because it reminds me of when our side wanted to abolish the ATF for all those years.

***

While I’m on this subject, here’s an HBD observation for you:

No black African country has ever made the championship game of the World Cup.  However, the U-17 World Cup, (U-17 being international team sports parlance for what Americans call the high school junior varsity level), an event held every other year in odd numbered years, has been held fourteen times.  A black African country has won it seven times.  Nigeria five times, and Ghana twice.





The Flight Not Taken

18 07 2018

London

Me, June 27:

My English lineage, coming from my father’s mother, is, unlike my other ethnic lines, very well documented going back a very long time, which is how I know my English is South Coast and Midlands, though in that case, the colonizing generations were much farther back than the immigrating generations in my German, Czech and Italian lines, meaning that confirmable distant cousins back in England are way more distant in terms of degrees.   In spite of that, I have no desire to visit Cuck Island/Ukistan anytime soon.  Our flight path took us over it on the way coming here and it will on the way going home, but that’s as close as I feel like coming to it.

To wit.

That’s one thing that just jumped out at me today about the massive epic voyage.  Because it was so long and involved so much that I might be coming up with new insights and realizations for years to come.  Just as research astronomers need decades to process all the data from an interplanetary mission.  What I realized today is that, while the Germans are probably more internally obsessed with soccer than the Brits, (Bundesliga’s average per-game stadium attendance is the second highest of any professional sports league in the world, second only to the NFL), they’re more reserved about it, and they take care not to be ostentatious about it.  Plain words:  German grown men aren’t running around in soccer jerseys.  The mystery meat?  Yeah, some of them do, because many of them have internalized globo-American-media “culture.”

Also haven’t you noticed that the British media-political establishment suddenly had no problem with people flying and waving St. George’s Cross?  It was fine to do that when it’s cheering for a collection of ball kickers that are almost half black.  Now that World Cup season is over and England didn’t win, we now return to regularly scheduled programming, St. George’s Cross is an evil symbol of hate.