It’s bloody hot

That’s the thermometer in my back yard, at 7:37 PM, and you’ll note that thermometers don’t know what a “heat index” is, so I can only assume it’s the literal apocalypse outside right now. It’s supposed to be like this all week. I’m not excited about it.

I watched both World Cup matches this afternoon; Brazil-Japan was exciting despite ending the wrong way; Germany-Paraguay was a textbook example of Everything Americans Think is Wrong with Soccer, not only featuring a truly ludicrous amount of flopping (if I took a drink every time I said “you’re fine, get up,” I’d be dead) but ending in a shootout where the pivotal miss on the German team’s part, the kick that more or less decided the game, soared ten feet above the goal.

I don’t think I’m being unreasonable when I suggest that, given a stationary ball and no one defending, any professional soccer player should be able to hit the fucking goal. Someone out there– possibly not someone reading this, but someone— will surely disagree with me on that. I could put a ball in the goal from that distance when I was playing soccer at ten. The goalkeeper is basically relying on vibes and luck to choose which way he jumps; he’s only barely relevant. All you have to do is hit the goal. The damned thing is twenty-four feet wide and eight feet tall. 192 square feet. Come the fuck on. And he wasn’t the only player who missed the goal! He was just the worst example.

The dude who missed that shot should walk into the ocean, is what I’m saying. Imagine NBA games that ended with each team shooting free throws and one of them airballs. That’s the rough equivalent here. Maybe one player from the opposing team gets to throw a ball at the ball to account for the goalie.(*)

The third game of the day features my Netherlands; I will have to cheer for a European team against an African one, which rankles a bit, but they’re my team and that’s that. I just wish I remembered why.

(*) No, an even better example: a football (our football) game where the game was decided on five extra point attempts. Any kicker who missed that badly wouldn’t make it off the field alive, and if he did he wouldn’t be taking his kicking foot with him.

OH AND ALSO:

Anthropeum.com
Jun 29 2026
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