So on the 288th last day of my 20s, I woke up at about 4:30am with a cramp in my calf. Damn thing had been threatening to seize up for a few weeks now. Couldn't flex it for about five minutes. In the morning, I hobbled to work, did stuff, came home, returned a whole heap of CDs to the library and slept. Waiting for the 3rd place play-off tonight.
"We want a quick decision: Yes or no."
- Sandro Rosell, with regards to Fabregas' mooted transfer to Barcelona
So far, Barcelona have tapped up Cesc, Cesc's father, Cesc's grandparents, Cesc's sister. Nearly every Spanish Barcelona player has been in the media, talking about Cesc's "Barcelona DNA". Barcelona presidents, both past and present, have been in the media, talking about their love of Cesc and their need to buy him. And now, Sandro Rosell has had enough, and wants a quick decision: yes or no.
I think the reason Arsenal are hesitating on the reply is that they're trying to work out which expletives to use to accompany their refusal. A plain "hell no" seems a bit prosaic, considering the melodramatic lengths to which Barcelona have conducted themselves. Barcelona deserves something a bit more colourful. So don't rush them, Sandro. A carefully-worded insult takes time to craft.
It's the 3rd place play-off tonight, between Uruguay and Germany. I quite like the tradition of having a third place play-off. It gives the two losing semi-finalists a second chance of showcasing their talents. In the case of Uruguay and Germany, that can only be a good thing. They've both contributed greatly to the tournament, and deserve a good sending off. I think Germany will win, though. They're fucking brilliant.