STICKLER'S WORLD OF EURO-YODELING

"Our close personal pal, Stickler, of that sassy-saugage-filled breakfast burrito of a blog, Stickler' World, was to been sent to Europe on behalf of Rivalfish for some on-site coverage of an age-old Austrian Pickle Sheathing Festival. We asked him to cover the World Cup. We couldn't offer him plane fare, salary, or an apology for the stain on his parents' bathroom sink, but we thought he'd do it out of his love for the us, er, the game. But now he hates us and e-mails spiteful e-mails to his co-editor (his foxy sister) over at Stickler's World. But we know a guy that banged her, and we get his e-mails anyway! Isn't counter-spite spite a beautiful thing?!?!?! :) ;)" - Rival Room Editorby Josh Stickler, www.sticklersworld.blogspot.com, sticklersworld@gmail.com

It was a wonderful day in Rome. The sun was shining, I was walking down a small cobblestone street with two guys from Missouri, drinking a large bottle of wine. Got to love the lax public intoxication rules of Europe. Suddenly we heard shouts and cries coming from afar. It must have been from the bar that the Desk Manager from the Alessandro Palace Hostel had told us about. We had been wandering for about an hour, getting more and more lost and missing more and more of Australia vs. Japan.

As we approached the bar showing the game, it was into the final 30 minutes of the game. Japan was up 1-0. The bar was packed so we had to stand outside behind a giant plastic see thru wall with many other onlookers. This is when an amazing thing happened: Australia tied the game, only minutes later to pull ahead with another goal, and score a final time in the final seconds to solidify the win. The Japanese around us were throwing there rice bowls to the ground in disgust. The Australians were cracking bottles of wine and pouring them over each others heads. So the dark horse had won their first match. What does this mean? Well it means these games are going to be way more exciting. After last night’s Brazil game, Australia may have a chance. But you people don't want to hear speculation; you want stories, so here goes some about garden gnomes and chin apples. Or about me meeting more dudes and this international sausage fest.

We ended up back at the hostel, in the bar, watching the US embarrass themselves. Disappointment plagued the American faces in the crowd, and I will not recount the sobbing that took place during the game by everyone at my table, as not to reopen these heinous wounds. But who cares? I'm in Italy, so when in Rome, cheer on the Italians. The Italy vs. Ghana game started with a flash of action. The bar was packed with Italians, so talking to people was hard since no one knew English. And then I met some Canadians, still indiscernible inbetween the “Eh!s� but at least they weren't speaking Greaseball. Jason and Nick were from Vancouver, but honestly I can't remember due to the “3 beers for 5 euro� special at the bar. Having already spent 20 euros I was well on my way to not remembering this game. But I did remember the story of these two fine gentlemen.

Jason and Nick had never been to Europe before. This was their first big trip, and having played the in-vogue football all their lives, this was perfect timing. They didn't have tickets, but like everyone else they were here for the experience. And being from Canada, they were dying without their hockey stats, especially since Edmonton was in the finals! I know, that doesn’t make that much sense because they are from Vancouver. But I guess our neighbors to the north are so desperate to bring the Stanley Cup back to their worthless nation for the first time since the Canadians beat the Kings back in ’93, that they don’t give a shit what city it’s headed to. On that note, I really hope that anyone but the Blue Jays win The World Series this year. Go USA!

So I asked these two guys the most important question I have asked anyone on this trip thus far. Why were two Canadians rooting for Italy? They explained that it isn't Italy so much as it was their players. It seems that people in Europe root for teams based on the players on their roster, shifting their fandom for their favorite club stars to the teams they represent in the cup. It is why so many people root for Brazil. Their players play with the passion of nine priests in a little league tournament. Does this mean people from around the world don't find unity behind their country? No, it just means they all realize that the same people make the end of the tournament almost every year so why not root for one of the teams that will be around in the end. Our talk was enlightening, mainly because I could understand what was coming out of their mouths.

Then it so happened that a very cute girl walked past me. My head turned and I lost track of the rest of the game. Vanessa was from Edmonton, excited about her Oilers and even more excited when I told her she could share my chair with me. I have a little ass, the size of a training unicycle seat. I didn't watch the rest of the game, but I did learn a lot about Vanessa. I also learned what she looked like without trousers. Italy and I shared something in common this night, as we both scored. I hope she was one of the Raspatellos’ cousins. So hooray for Italy winning their first match! Prego! Arrivaderci! Vafancullo! And all of you Americans out there better be getting ready for the biggest game yet, when the US will take on the Italians this Saturday. I’m positive they will lose. I’m also positive that both Jonah “Ticklebass� Ansell is a recchione.