It’s official.

I’m crazy.

Crazy for football that is! I attended my first big footie match on Friday at the new BMO field in T-dot. It was Canada vs. Argentina Under 20’s and I am not sure what I was expecting but it surely was not a close game that could have gone either way. Canada’s senior men’s team is sitting in a comfortable 84th place in the world behind such powerhouses as Qatar, Congo DR, Iraq and assholes Uzbekistan. Conversely, Argentina is 2nd. So I was expecting nothing less than an absolute trouncing and apologized in advance to my lovely new friend who happens to hail from the glorious football nation of England and whose name is the same as a denomination of our currency. Canada lost 2-1 but come on, that’s pretty effing good in my opinion. Up next on the docket is Toronto FC vs. Benfica next week on the 23rd… can’t WAIT!

More importantly I am happy to announce publicly for the first time that I have a new boyfriend.

Not a real one of course. For every day that passes that I am left twiddling my thumbs at home alone at night, I am convinced that being single for the rest of my life is where my fate lies. I must mention that this new boyfriend in no way replaces Crouchy, who will remain my one and only true soccer love forever and all time. But PC is in England. And I have grown wearisome of getting up at dawn’s early light on a weekend morning to support him and his un-requited love.

Everyone, meet Danny.



He’s my Toronto FC bf. To be honest, I struggled with this one. My first inclination was to TFC’s Baby Beckham, Jim Brennan. But Jim Brennan is not a striker. After careful consideration, weighing the pros and cons, Bea came to the conclusion that only a forward would be good enough for her. And of course he must be tall. Brennan comes in at a paltry six foot. I could not possibly drool over someone from afar who is, let’s face it, practically a dwarf. My second thought then gravitated towards the keeper, Greg Sutton who is 6’6”. I was first drawn to his hands which, when he is wearing his gloves during games, are about the size of those giant foam ‘We’re #1” monstrosities… what can I say, I see big hands and my mind immediately starts to imagine those hands on my boobies… But alas being a keeper is the opposite of being a forward so back onto the pile he went. From thereon I went through the roster… too young, too old, too ugo, too short, too inexperienced, too second string and so forth.

And that’s when I saw Danny. He’s still a relative midget at 6’3” but as he is also English and a forward, I felt I could make an exception for this shortcoming (no pun intended). He’s also that “English balding” type which I absolutely LOVE. I know it sounds weird but there is something oddly correlative between the size of British male genitalia versus the amount (or lack) of hair they have on their head. I’m still trying to work out the correlation between Irish male blindness and the female orgasm but as of yet have not been fortunate enough to test that theory out on multiple subjects. Too bad, so sad.

Anyway, turns out that in addition to being tall (ish), bald and English, Danny can also play the game. He will go down in history as being the first Toronto FC player to score a goal in competition ever. Do I know how to pick ‘em or do I know how to pick ‘em?