Howdy Ho
folks!
“Long time,
no see” as they say, but I have been busy lately. Well to be honest, not so
much busy as restricted. In a way.
I did the
road south form Angband mainly sleeping in the orc-caravan as the headache did
the better of me. But that I do at least remember. When we reached Tol In
Gaurhoth where I was supposed to make few interesting interviews everything
seems to be blurring a bit and become like dizzier. There were some werewolves
and hounds and wargs – and those incredibly nit-picky players of the T-I-G
team. There were some arguments, that I do remember. Blessed be the
Ainulindalë, I could show you the total sadness of this team person by person,
but I’ll let you get away with it this time. Even though I'm planning to be back on those pathetic creatures later on.
I do guess
my brawl with them was at least partly the cause why I ended up into the
dungeons of the famous Tol In Gaurhoth for Eru knows how long a time. And all I
got to eat was some lousy cupcakes! And no booze, go figure!
I think I
went into a psychosis of some kind being forced to a dry period. Delirium tremens is all too familiar to
me but the kicks absolutism gives you were something totally new. I’ve never
shook that much! Woof! For the name of
Maiar I thank it is over now.
But to the
bussiness then…
I’m writing
this here in Armenelos, in a huge old pub called “The King’s Men” (bleh) near
Meneltarma Square, and the games of round 1 ended a few pints ago. Now let me
spell this quite clearly: the Númenorians are half-grown jerks. JERKS, you read
it correctly. They think they are the center of the universe, they think they
are important, they think that… they think that somebody gives a shit of who
they are. Well, now as I come to think about it I see they have succeeded as
that’s exactly what I’m now willing to give them, a load of shit.
They go all
day this “merry-go-happy” pic-nic thing of theirs but reveal their vain pride
when meeting a stranger. They know they have to share with strangers as that is
“decent behaviour”, but from their faces you can see they do it reluctantly,
like asking the visitor to be graceful of the alms they have been generous
enough to share and then to beat it asap. And even if we saw some really
wonderful performances on the bandstand of Meneltarma Square the Númenorians
more or less ignored them – like those who were singing Númenorian drinking
songs while Fëagil the Slender was reciting her fragile and gentle poem
about Elenwë’s doom at Helcaraxë. Morgoth, I would kill them with my bare hands
if I was able. But when it was time for “Númenor will never yield” by the
mediocre local choir they all stood up in their self-serving righteousness,
howling like a giant herd of cows too stupid to realise the tom-foolery they
made of themselves.
And hey!
They were served the best football in all Arda with the game between FC Valinor
and Real Valinor but all they could do was biting their nails whilst thinking
how would their own team fare against the two top teams playing the most
exciting football there ever is, in front of their eyes!
I mean did
they understand anything of the game they saw? Did they appreciate the elegance
and power of Nessa’s movement when she danced around Lórien like a whirlwind
catching his dreams and visions and used them to get past him? Did they get
anything of the psychological thriller between Fëanor’s sons when in the end
Caranthir was late and tackled his younger brother Curufin to the ground who
then repaid the tackle with that astonishing free kick sending FC Valinor to
the unreachable 3-0 lead – and how that played into their experiences in front
of unattainable goals in their former lives and how those quests ended – and
like they then perished together all the three of them, but now it looked the
two were leaving him alone and sailing to the next games? Just imagine yourself
into Caranthir’s mind now! Or did they see how darkly and erratically Tilion
followed Arien’s movement doing a disfavour to their team by that aimless
wondering when he could have been at the right place at the right time for them
to score? But as for the game he more or less left both the defence and offence
into trouble by not being where he should have been. I could continue the list but you get the
point.
The
Numenorians are jerks, I tell you. And in the late match I was cheering for
Tirion untill my lungs were empty and I needed a shot or two to inspire me to
yell more. And a few thugs naturally beat me in the queue for more drinks when
I innocently supported my favourites with “Ars and Tars behind the bars! Tirion
will take this farce!” So not only jerks but jerks without any sense of humour.
Oh and I
must add this. After I had gotten myself pulled together and managed to bribe
the doorman to the post-game press conference I heard that Pharazôn talking something
about them needing to play in defence like FC Valinor had done two times to win
Real Valinor.
Ex-squeeze
me Mr. Ar! How are you exactly planning to do that? You guys lack so much
wisdom and talent in the midfield and in the defence that you’re never going to
make that. And even if Tar Atanamir is probably the most decent player in your
team he’s no match for Huan. No. Never. End of story.
