Round and Round-Up

I can't believe it's been this long between posts.  It sure has been a busy/dreary summer.  It started when I tore up my ankle (literally) the day after I wrote that CODC post.  Then I got caught up in moving, yet again, applying for jobs, doing wedding crap etc.etc and all of a sudden it's September.  I was also doing a lot of blogging at my old job.  I've spent the last few weeks in Silver Spring (no that wasn't me yesterday, a few people have actually posed the question) reading books for Library Journal, writing cover letters, watching soccer matches and films at AFI Silver (particularly the Truffaut and Kurosawa Retrospectives).  It's been nice sleeping in, but it's starting to get nerve-wracking.

Last night I saw a D.C. United game in RFK Stadium and I can't stop thinking about it.  It was surreal and sort of creepy.  The stadium is crumbling to pieces as we speak and when we first sat down it was basically empty.  Sitting in a vast, empty stadium (literally less than 30 people were milling about at the time) was strange and the fact that it looked rusty, rickety and damn near condemned was messing with my mind.  I kept staring at the garish yellow, by age and design, ghost-ridden upper deck seats whose rows were punctuated by broken, removed chairs like a smoker's mouth with missing teeth.  I'm not trying to dis D.C. United or the MLS, but, holy shit man, just because the Redskins don't play there anymore doesn't mean you can forgo performing basic maintenance in a stadium you still invite people in to attend "professional" games at.  I can just see some D.C. United bigwig saying "The Redskins played here!!! Let's leave it like it is and not change a thing. It'll be gold, Jerry! Gold."  Wondering around the dilapidated building looking for beer vendors and unlocked bathrooms, I had one of those Shining experiences where I felt the psychic energy of the place and it wasn't always good.  Standing in one of the humid, claustrophobic bathrooms, I could just sense the arrests (how many Philly fans alone?), drunken brawls, broken noses, and ancient puddles of piss and cigarette butts from Sundays past.  It was unsettling.

As a lifelong football fan, I started thinking of all of the great NFC playoff games played there during the 80's and early 90's.  That was when the Redskins were actually still a proud, winning franchise with tradition and Hall-of-Famers like Russ Grimm and, one of my first football heroes, John Riggins.  So sitting there underneath a sunny sky revisiting those memories and that history helped balance the strange karma of the tumbling down, mostly empty stadium.
Another time machine aspect of the evening: the fans who did show up.
Not only did the architecture and layout of RFK bring to mind Three Rivers Stadium, but the D.C. United fans resurrected the Old-School (it's like the stadium demands nothing less) rowdy, beer throwing, cigarette smoking, high-decibel cursing inimical to the stadium experience of days gone by.  I was shocked when I saw a dude light a cigarette while actually talking to the security guard.  That shock vanished quickly as D.C. scored on a penalty early in the match and people started lighting colored smoke bombs and throwing their 10 dollar beers (I'm not exaggerating) at each other.  The security guards were chanting with and hugging the rowdy fans and a few times I got the half-exciting/half terrifying, Willard in Apocalypse Now type impression that no-one was truly in charge.
Our section did fill up, at least, and the D.C. supporters (probably 1,500-2,000 at this game all told) were like a raucous mutant gang, part Raiders "Black Hole" style intimidation, part pub chanting drum circle militia.  There was 'Darth Hooligan' a man with Darth Maul style face paint and a light-sabre.  There were people lugging floor toms that John Bonham might have played, banging away-as chants about shitting on the 6 (literally) Columbus Crew fans in the middle deck at other end of the stadium went on and on.  One dude behind me implored the refs to "SEND THAT PIECE OF SHIT #32 THE FUCK HOME" at volumes that would have made Pete Townsend cry.  It was a fun atmosphere
manufactured by a small, but in no way insignificant, band of fanatics.

As far as wrestling goes, I'm not interested in the WWE right now at all.  From what I've seen, the NXT angle is like the NWO angle, minus the charisma of Hall and Nash, for youngsters who missed it the first time around.  I think Wade Barrett can be a star eventually beyond this angle and Tarver is interesting, at least visually, with that mask.  That's it.
I've been reading about Linda Mac's Senate campaign and their clumsy response (she pulled the "I only met him once" card) to the, unfortunate death of Lance Cade and I'm going to post more on that soon.
I watched TNA a few times recently and at least that Best of 5 series between the Motor City Machine Guns and Beer Money Inc. provided some excellent in-ring action.  All of the matches I saw were great, but my favorite was definitely the cage match.  Great chemistry between these 4 dudes, for sure.
I saw Ric Flair give an absolutely unhinged, instant classic promo on Jay Lethal that made me laugh, cry and chop my wife at the same time.
Here's most of it (there is a great line missing about his robe from that last  Wrestlemania being in the Smithsonian, which, incidentally, my girl hates being reminded of because she refuses to believe I'm not the only person in the world always marking out for the Dirtiest Player in the Game)


Metal-
I've just been listening to Electric Wizard, particularly Let Us Prey, alot.
The first song on U Chosen Few...I can probably write a whole post just on that.  For now I'll just say that they are one of the only bands that can truly mix metal and psychedelia.  The breakdown at the end of "U Chosen Few" is brain-crushing psychedelia with vocals that are mixed like insinuations, barely cracking the subconscious, but Jus's voice is there faintly burning on a pyre of discarded Sabbath riffs and queasy

More soon (for real)