Posts Tagged ‘Champions League’

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You will know when you find her

Yesterday, the EPL season came to a close, a dramatic finish to 38 games per team (the clueless, kina Bix, there are 20 teams in the EPL, each fielding 11 players plus an additional 3 substitutes if they so require), which took place over the course of roughly 10 months. Of the 20 teams, like every other league, including the ones that are yet to be completed- ladies this does not include the Europa League or the Champions League- there were the top performers, the beasts, the ones that were actually favourites to win from the start to the finish. The ones that everyone else was scared of. The ones that actually managed an average of at least 1.974 points per game, translating roughly into about 75 points at the end of the season. Again, Bix, please mind your business.
Promptly, the transfer season will officially start. Ladies, I am sorry, but this does not necessarily mean that you will get more attention. From the TV and the pub, his attention will also promptly shift to constant checks on the phone of websites such as goal.com, bbc sport football, transfer sources, etc. However, this will significantly increase your chances of busting him online, when usually he claims he doesn’t have bundles. You will not understand, trust me. That I can promise you. He will undoubtedly spend more time online than you do, yet the number of Whatsapp texts that you get will exponentially decrease, depending on what he finds online.
You will hear all sorts of rumours; some will claim that someone is about to get signed. Some will insinuate that the said person has already been signed and some will claim that someone else that offered better incentives has snatched the said the said person, or in better footballing terms, snatched up the said person. In some rare cases, you will learn that the said person has suffered and injury and as a result, interest has weaned. His agent will appear from time to time to deny or approve the amount of interest shown in the said person. Then someone will appear as if from nowhere and proclaim that the deal is done. You will question it, perhaps even laugh at the sheer absurdness of it all, but in due course, you will learn that the transfer window is about to close.
On the deadline day, you will learn, sadly, that the said person has been signed. On the rare occasion, the said person will suddenly reveal how wrong they were to even consider leaving and will opt to stay on, if anything to win trophies with the current team. If this happens, they will inevitably receive pay hikes and obviously better benefits.
In two months’ time, on average, he will be excited. He will tell not necessarily tell you about it, but you will know. You will hear rumours of friendly games, pre-season matches and whatnots. You will unexpectedly find yourself on the verge of trying to find out what all this pre-season madness is all about. You will not like it, especially when you find out that the new signing is especially awesome and all his rivals are jealous. Then, the new season will start his Twitter handle will change from his name to a strange name you may or may not have heard about in the course of the two months. The said person will inevitably be on his FPL team for the new season and there will be nothing you can do about it. At that moment, you will know it is official.
You will also ask where I am going with this.
I will tell you; because this is exactly what happens on the dating field. One moment she’s yours. The next, the season is coming to a close. Someone else is trying to sign her and there is nothing you can do about it, except hope you can manage to convince her to stay. She will be faced with a big decision; to stay on or to leave. Sometimes, if she really does love you, she will stay. There will be no pre-season matches and no one else will get to experience her love except you.
But sometimes, she will decide she is better off signing on away; there will be nothing you can do about it. You will try to get her back but she will throw you into the bottomless pit that is the friendzone if you do insist on pursuing her. You will understand that you pushed her away, but you will never quite accept it. She will forgive you, with time, but yes, you both know it will never be the same. If you’re lucky, Fabian will offer you a place on his support group, having experienced the process approximately 17 times (that we know of).
But sometimes, she will realize that you two were always at your best when you were together (Katunge take note  ) and she will come back running into your arms and you will never let her go, not for anything. Because by then you will have learnt from your mistakes and you will be willing to do anything for her. Then, you will know that you found the one.

Lighters up, ladies and gentlemen. You are about to be de-lighted

Last week was quite uneventful; except for the slight tremor in Nairobi on Monday morning and the blackout on Wednesday night, there was really nothing much. The tremor never made it to be a news item although Kenyans on Twitter did manage to blow it out of proportion, as usual, and it ended up being a trending topic for most part of the morning exclusively in Nairobi, with people in Rongai having been warned against trying to fit in. The blackout on the other hand did make it to be a news item. Reason, the blackout was in fact a national event, which somehow managed to extend beyond the borders of our beloved country and into the little landlocked country of Rongai, whose citizens as I later learnt, finally got to understand what life in Kenya is as they were plunged into darkness for four days.

But that was beside my point. Wednesday to say the least was one of the most chaotic nights of my life. I had been looking forward to getting home early from work because as it turned out, a team of midgets from Spain with unique diving talents was due to play 11 old people from London that are funded by divorce settlements and a wealthy Russian mafia boss. I’m talking about the Barcelona vs Chelsea game for those of you who haven’t realized who I’m talking about yet. I therefore needed to get drunk as soon as possible so I would have the strength to sit and hurl insults throughout the entire match without necessarily having to watch the game. Needless to say, I was home by seven pm and in the pub by twenty minutes later with my good neighbour Gitonga, who as his name suggests, is a wealthy man with everything except money.

Having secured seats at our favourite corner, beer-shara was soon underway; it didn’t take long for the alcohol to kick in and Gitonga was soon dazzling everybody with his pre-match analysis, that he had researched using my phone mind you. Not that I really cared, he is fun to watch football with and it was in fact the reason I brought him along in the first place. By eight the place was almost full to capacity; nothing brings men together than alcohol coupled with a night of Champions League football and reports of free oil from a fallen oil tanker, confirmed or otherwise. We even placed bets. Then the lights flickered. Once… twice… thrice…. Then it was dark and the place turned chaotic. Somebody told Baba Boi (read the bartender) to keep away bottles of STONEy from anyone who happened to be from Komarock.

Ten minutes later the lights were not yet back so Baba Boi asked for volunteers to go buy diesel for the generator from the nearby petrol station. Gitonga and I volunteered and we left just as Baba Boi went to fetch the generator. Gitonga has this incredible torch that is made is China that has incredible capabilities as a phone too and we used it to find our way to the petrol station and back to the pub in five minutes. We were determined to watch this match but fate had other ideas. As it turns out the generator had not been used in a long time and wouldn’t even start. We embarked on a hunt for another pub that had a working generator. We ended up travelling all the way to Donholm where we endured watching 90 minutes on our feet and I finally learnt how to iron my clothes without electricity. The trick is to get the iron box hot, so you simply place the iron box on a controlled flame and hope it doesn’t burn.

Anyway I have never cursed KPLC more. I cursed them even more the next day when I found out that their excuse for this gross violation of human rights that prevented millions of football lovers countrywide from watching Chelsea’s historic win over Barcelona and even resulted in the death of an innocent woman in a hospital at the coast was “A fault in one of our substations in Juja”. Condescending bastards even went on say that the power failure was a Current event. Okay, that was funny and I hope you get it, but still. Shouldn’t somebody tell them already to plant bulbs if they want proper power plants not the fake ones they currently have? I have a valid point here; just as it is valid to say that KPLC get their electricity from electrons and morality from morons.

Once a pun a time, KPLC used to be up to date because they were to be current specialists… I even used to joke that the lights usually go out because they like each other. Now, honestly they are just a bunch of, literally, dark sadists who are delighted when Kenyans get de-lighted. I understand the rise in cost of production of HEP power because it is true we faced some rather dry spells, but how do you explain paying more for more power outages? And that is why I have made a stand. I am no longer paying for electricity; I am going solar. Hell, Samsung even have a solar powered laptop, which for the record I find really discriminatory considering the device is only sold in Africa like they still think we’re a dark continent. Okay, again, KPLC are proving them right.

To the rest of you, if you do continue paying for power blackouts, know that you’re only making it easier for the fat cats in that damned company to buy more Volts-Wagons, sorry Volkswagens, with your hard earned money. So I will tell you this, if your lights go out, pray. If they are not back in five minutes, read my advice again and if they are not back by the time you finish re-reading, stop whining and pay the damn bill; it was your choice anyway. Anyway there is this wedding I want to attend badly so I am off till next week. Apparently Mr. Ohm is marrying Mrs. Ohm because he could not resistor… Bye till then.