RAWK Goes Into Meltdown (2012/2013)

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Revan said:
Just for the point of being exact, it was the greatest player of all time in place of Downing. Lucas fekking Leiva.
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Ah, you are of course right. But then again, he is so good that you could throw in Downing as a number nine who could just wallow in Lucas' ominpotence on the pitch. Incredible :wenger:
 
It was the first time I heard the 'best starting 8' expression. It's very hard to rationalize what does it mean.
 
Rossa said:
This is so, so true. Last season, I think it was, I read that many Liverpool supporters believed they had the best startin 8. Reina in goal, of course, Agger AND Skrtel (how the f*** did he win player of the northwestern region?), Johnson, Enrique, Gerrard, Suarez, Downing :lol:

Oh, and they had the best manager :wenger:
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What is this "player of the northwestern region" award?
 
Some knob on ESPN or FSC was claming that Zlatan just misses out on the top five players in the world at the moment... because... wait for it... wait...

He put Suarez in the top five. With Messi, Ronaldo, Falcao and someone else, migh have been Xavi, can't recall the name.
 
Meh, it's inevitable that a club's fans will rate their star player highly, especially when he's on a great run of form.

It's not really the level of RAWK delusion that made this thread legendary back in the day.
 
MrMarcello said:
Some knob on ESPN or FSC was claming that Zlatan just misses out on the top five players in the world at the moment... because... wait for it... wait...

He put Suarez in the top five. With Messi, Ronaldo, Falcao and someone else, migh have been Xavi, can't recall the name.
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:lol: Yes he is that good that ALL the big clubs were after him and he chose the dippers.
 
Nogbadthebad said:
In this context , it means the other three are so shit even the blinkered fans at rawk cant make a case for them.
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It is easy to understand if you use RAWKish logic. But it becomes more difficult when you try to understand by using normal logic.

You can say first eleven, defense, midfield, attack, right side, left side, but what the hell is a best starting eight which consists of a keeper, 4 defenses, 2 midfielders and a striker. I mean some are completely non linked position. Also, in that thread the OP was saying that this doesn't mean that they are the best in PL in their position, but they are best as starting 8. So, that even makes the situation more difficult to understand.
 
Rowem said:
It's not really the level of RAWK delusion that made this thread legendary back in the day.
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Back in the day?

Only yesterday we were treated to this piece of pure comedy gold, which just begs to be quoted again --

L6 Red@RAWK said:
An attempt to describe his Liverpool career is futile. No one can portray the breathtaking beauty of the Iguazu waterfalls, nor question the structure of the Acropolis. That is why it is best to return to the beginning. The ability to trace the origin of a phenomenon is rare. No one knows who created the universe or how the pyramids were built, but it is clear when Gerrard was destined for greatness.

With Gerrard, one should not question but simply enjoy. Every flick of the picture book allows for warm reminiscence

[...]

His foot, as if disjointed by soft-handed slumber, arching towards the ball and the ball, arching away from West Ham goalkeeper Shaka Hislop, and into the net. So many men would be content with the European Cup medal on display. So many men are not Steven Gerrard.
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:lol: '...as if disjointed by soft-handed slumber...'
 
SteveJ said:
Jaaaysusss. :lol:


An attempt to describe his Liverpool career is futile. No one can portray the breathtaking beauty of the Iguazu waterfalls, nor question the structure of the Acropolis. That is why it is best to return to the beginning. The ability to trace the origin of a phenomenon is rare. No one knows who created the universe or how the pyramids were built, but it is clear when Gerrard was destined for greatness.
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An ode to Steven Gerrard:

http://www.redandwhitekop.com/forum/index.php?topic=299892.0
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:lol:

Magnificent.
 
No ordinary RAWK poster, the author of that piece writes for ESPN, Telegraph, New York Times, BBC, The Anfield Wrap, BT Life's A Pitch etc. I absolutely bloody despair...
 
Brightonian said:
It's a slight misquote from Keats, IIRC.
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Yes, it's from Ode to Psyche.

They lay calm-breathing on the bedded grass;
Their arms embraced, and their pinions too;
Their lips touch'd not, but had not bade adieu,
As if disjoined by soft-handed slumber,
And ready still past kisses to outnumber
At tender eye-dawn of aurorean love:
The winged boy I knew;
But who wast thou, O happy, happy dove?
His Psyche true!
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http://englishhistory.net/keats/poetry/psyche.html

SteveJ said:
No ordinary RAWK poster, the author of that piece writes for ESPN, Telegraph, New York Times, BBC, The Anfield Wrap, BT Life's A Pitch etc. I absolutely bloody despair...
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Long time fan then, Steve? :lol:
I had absolutely no idea, and I'm thrilled he's so prolific. A cornucopia of laughter awaits!
 
So we can infer that Gerrard's foot and the ball are slightly apart, not as if approaching or drawing away from one another, but like the lips of two lovers who have fallen asleep in one another's arms.

Good, glad we've cleared that up.
 
Brightonian said:
So we can infer that Gerrard's foot and the ball are slightly apart, not as if approaching or drawing away from one another, but like the lips of two lovers who have fallen asleep in one another's arms.
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What a lovely image, Brightonian.
Might have been what he had in mind, although as it stands I can't help but read it as Gerrard's foot, literally (Hi Jamie!) disjointed from his body, moving towards the ball, and that the work of soft-handed slumber was done in this act of magical separation.
His foot, as if disjointed by soft-handed slumber, arching towards the ball and the ball, arching away from West Ham goalkeeper Shaka Hislop [...]
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More in line with your interpretation would have been
His foot and the ball, as if disjoined by soft-handed slumber; the foot arching towards the ball and the ball, arching away...
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[:p Sorry, couldn't help myself.]
 
He drilled the ball, as hard and straight as his hairline
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I couldn't read past this. I could tell the author wasn't thinking about Gerrard's hairline.
 
Everyone's fecked. Suarez, the Uruguayan werewolf, has arrived. ''What the feck are you going to do about it?''

There's a certain honesty that comes from mischief. We don't trust the pristine. Cristiano Ronaldo is handsome, talented, dedicated, and above all unloved. Mario Balotelli gets more adoration than an Everton loan signing. We like our angels to have dirty faces because it makes them all the more accessible; it kicks away the pedestal. What happens if you take that to its farthest reaches? Well Ladies and Gentlemen, I give to you Luis Suarez: a man who doesn't just kick away the pedestal, he's a man who sets fire to it and puts out the blaze with his own victorious piss. What the **** are you gonna do about it?

By demonstrating the raw determination of a born Kopite, Liverpool's little Uruguayan has not only given his fans the chance to live vicariously through him, he's also united opposition supporters in hatred. It's given Liverpool fans a flag round which to rally. So, thanks for that: we needed it. And it's a proper flag at that, not one of those placcy ones the cockneys use to plug the gaping emptiness that comes from being a Billionaire's wank sock. It's like family: nothing gets a warring family together like an outside threat. 'Nobody calls my brother an arsehole but me!'

And so Luis Suarez has fought off everything from Gollum's meanest stare to Ferguson's bottle-bank. The apologist Premier League currently finds itself in the precarious position of the wide-eyed Big Game Hunter who, having just missed the onrushing beast with his last poison dart, quietly evacuates into his own pants. The gnashing teeth and guttural roars as Luis Suarez hurtles towards them is what will now be their last rites. Are you happy now David Moyes? How about you Mr Ferguson?

Suarez is a lesson in the dangers of building man into monster. Hannibal Lecter could give the Nevilles' midwife nightmares in that mask, but stick a pink bow on him and all you have is 'The Silence of Bo Peep'. Here the Premier League has a beast at least partly of their own making, through continued and overt demonization. They say 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger', and Luis Suarez has faced hook, crook and book in England. But Luis isn't just alive, he's mutated into something more dangerous: Frankenstein's monster; a Uruguayan Werewolf in Liverpool; the big '**** YOU!'

It should have all been so different. An eight match ban for racism was supposed to be the silver bullet. Above and beyond games missed, I remember claims that the incident highlighted 'the very worst of football Tribalism'. One man's ban apparently became the battle between good and evil. And so, watching England flap to a 4-2 defeat against Sweden, I thought of the delicious irony of how someone like Suarez could restore England's International lustre! How England could do with their own Pantomime Villain to add some umph.

International football in this country was already circling the toilet bowl by the time Michael Owen sold his soul to 'Ingerlund', so it's not just Liverpool fans who became increasingly unlikely to put up the St George bunting. National pride is the stuff of Churchill, of missed penalties and Gazza's tears, not midweek jaunts to give every man and his cat an England Cap in 'Meaningless Friendly 502'. When 'El Pistolero' was pilloried in the English media- and football in general- for being a 'racist', his Uruguyan countrymen closed ranks and stood shoulder to shoulder with him. When Suarez was accused of being a 'diver' by FIFA Vice-President Jim Boyce, the Uruguayan FA wrote to FIFA in a manner that can only be described as designed to make sphincters quiver. A big ****-off handbook on how to rehabilitate the cowardly Three Lions lives and breaths in the never-say-die attitude of Luis Suarez, and yet still we form disorderly queues to feast on the entrails of our sportsmen.

England doesn't have a loveable rogue. They have a few wrong 'uns no doubt, but they're either vacuous to the point of inane or just a nasty shade of Nouveau Riche. Liverpool, however, have their first, properly mischievous little Git since Robbie Fowler was seen sniffing his way down the touchline. England never really appreciated Robbie, so there's no surprise that Suarez fails to fit the template too, and it remains to be seen what heights Suarez will soar to. How long he will stay? Part of the drama is watching a clinical trial unfold in front of us, because never before have the effects of playing every game like its your last been tested on the meager chassis of the human body. Can he last? Most players have either the talent or the attitude, Luis has an equal abundance of both. To watch Suarez is to watch inspiration grapple with perspiration like a freshly tweezed Jose Enrique in a cage match with his own sexuality.

We hope there's a good few chapters left to be written, but for now Liverpool have that cheeky goalscoring forward, around which all of the best hand-me-down stories are written. Journalists are surveying their broken greenhouses and politely asking if Luis can return stones to sender. What's great about this fella is that despite all the other bull**** in football, he makes sure there's no danger of Liverpool fans falling out of love with the game any time soon. No matter how hard the sky was falling, you'd never stop watching Robbie Fowler's Liverpool. And likewise, no matter how up the tits are, you'll never stop watching Luis Suarez' Liverpool. 'Drive fans away' my ****ing arse! He has you so far off your seat you could get on the end of a Stoke through ball. Robbie Fowler will always be God, and he'll always be my hero, but -and I know pain may well follow- I think I'll tentatively announce his successor.
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Oh there'll be tears (of rage) when he fecks off in a year or two.
 
So is it the same person always writing these unbelievable passages, or is it an epidemic over there?
I don't remember reading anything like that about United on the Caf. Thank God!
 
Shane88 said:
Everyone's fecked. Suarez, the Uruguayan werewolf, has arrived. ''What the feck are you going to do about it?''
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:lol: x 10.000!

Well Ladies and Gentlemen, I give to you Luis Suarez: a man who doesn't just kick away the pedestal, he's a man who sets fire to it and puts out the blaze with his own victorious piss.
[...]
The gnashing teeth and guttural roars as Luis Suarez hurtles towards them is what will now be their last rites. Are you happy now David Moyes? How about you Mr Ferguson?
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I'm dead here! :lol: And I can't help put wonder why he bothered setting fire to that pedestal in the first place.

Part of the drama is watching a clinical trial unfold in front of us, because never before have the effects of playing every game like its your last been tested on the meager chassis of the human body. Can he last?
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FFS!
 
They've really lost it if their definition of 'lovable rogue' is now 'cheating racist'. For shame...
 
Liverpool is indeed a city of comedians...long winded and crap comedians.
 
If John Bishop is classed as funny in that hell hole, I can see why they all see themselves as hilarious.
 
Liverpool have never had the fantasy to their football to justify all the Romantic prose; aside from Barnes & (arguably) Dalglish, have they ever had the kind of flair players, say, United or even Spurs have boasted? They've traditionally been as drab as Lent with Alan Hansen...
 
Badunk said:
That ode to Suarez is fecking brilliant. So many quotables :lol:
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Yes, I'm still in stitches here.
To watch Suarez is to watch inspiration grapple with perspiration like a freshly tweezed Jose Enrique in a cage match with his own sexuality.
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:lol: And I know it's probably one of you lot, but it's still absolutely hilarious.

ETA:
Just saw this
SteveJ said:
They've traditionally been as drab as Lent with Alan Hansen...
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:lol:
 
It's ironic that the people who often display a pathological hatred & suspicion of mass-media journalists mimic the very same cringeworthy journalese.
 
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