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SOCCER MOM
Stephanie Clifton was in the CIA. At the moment she was striding down an internal hallway in the CIA headquarters at Langley, Virginia. She entered the office of her superior, who bade her sit down. He said
"Ms. Clifton, your next assignment will take you to South Africa, for the 2010 World Cup. Your mission is to gather valuable intelligence on the mood of the world. We wish for insight on the minds of men from other countries. Your on sight observations may prove valuable in the formulation of policy. What's important is that you provide accurate, detailed reports, untainted by bias or personal prejudice. If you think to pull punches for political reasons then you are in the wrong business. Politically tinged reports have no place in Central Intelligence Agency. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir." said Stephanie Clifton, simply.
"Intelligence is a lifelong pursuit." said her superior, for emphasis.
"I understand."
"Very well. Now, I'm given to understand that your son, Kenworth, is quite the soccer player. How would it be if he were to accompany you to South Africa....for cover?"
"Kenny?" asked Stephanie.
"You appear to have reservations. I understand that this is an unusual request."
"It's just that I wouldn't wish to be distracted from the performance of my duties by my responsibility as a parent."
"The two go hand in hand. This is a safe mission." said her superior flatly.
But Stephanie knew otherwise. Kenworth wasn't just a soccer superstar, he was a brilliant young genius, and her constant fear was that the company would take him away from her.
Paul Simon - 'The Boy in the Bubble' Live in Africa:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GykbnvufIZE
By diegonomics 12:24 a.m., May 11, 2010 > Report it
Diego, I say this out of love, I think you're cool beans, but you never have to include "Virginia" when you type "Langley". It would be as ridiculous as typing "Buenos Aires, Argentina". Or perhaps a better example, if I tell you that Newell's won by six goals over the weekend, I'd have no reason to include that they are "Old Boys". And if I did include it, that still wouldn't mean a damned thing to anyone that didn't know what I was talking about to begin with. Langley and CIA are like Boca and River. Those who get it, get it, and those who don't won't, no matter how you refer to it.
By refriedgringo 1:09 a.m., May 11, 2010 > Report it
Point well taken, RF:)
Stephanie was medium height, medium build, good looks, maximum bandwidth. Smarts- she had them. She shoved her dirty blonde bangs to the side of her forehead and peered intently at her superior, a silver haired gentlemen that though in his sixties was not grizzled and never would be.
A knock was heard at the door.
"Enter." said Stephanie's boss.
The door opened and 'Tino Escudero sauntered in, dressed in an olive green short leather jacket that made him look like a bullfighter, slacks, and dress shoes. His black mane was combed back , ala Antonio Banderas. He was an Argentine operative whose, ahem, card was on loan to Langley.
"Close the door behind you. Were you born in a barn?" said the boss.
"I see you've read my dossier." said Tino, winningly, while closing the door.
"Oh for God's sake. Mr. Escudero, this is Stephanie Clifton, you'll accompany her to South Africa. Stephanie, meet Tino Escudero."
"How do you do." said Stephanie, noting the 'This is already getting more interesting' look in Tino's eye.
"You'll be responsible for Ms. Clifton's safety and well being throughout the trip, though you'll receive breaks during the soccer matches when your consciousness will obviously be fused on the game, and you'd be useless as a bodyguard in any case....
Stephanie looked over toward her boss and gave him a significant look. He continued
"Forget any pretense of machismo. Ms. Clifton will be in charge. However, in consideration of your massive Argentine ego, and miniscule Argentine pocketbook, its been decided to allow you to hold the credit card, and pay expenses."
"As any gentleman would....I imagine." said Tino.
"Yes, well, here you are." said the CIA case officer, holding out a platinum credit card to Tino. He took it and pulled out his wallet to stick it in. As he did, two slips of paper fell out, which Tino retrieved a little too quickly, the boss thought.
"Whats that?" he demanded.
"Nothing, eh, phone numbers-" said Tino.
"Let me see."
"No, its nothing." insisted Tino.
"Give those notes to me now or I'll call security."
Tino handed one of them over. The CIA case officer looked at it gravely, and said
"A betting slip- Argentina to win the World Cup. Hmmm..."
Tino shrugged and tried to smile, saying
"A sentimental favorite- you understand, no?"
"Only too well. The other betting slip. Give it."
Tino winced and turned it over. The look on his face was not good. The boss reviewed it, and his face turned red.
"England to beat USA in game one?!"
"Its a longshot bet." said Tino, shrinking into his seat.
"I should think so. Because we are going to beat England worse than we did in the Revolution, do you hear?"
The Goals of Batistuta:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MdjOo4rj66c
By diegonomics 11:27 a.m., May 11, 2010 > Report it
Stephanie and Tino went to East San Diego, to pick up Kenworth. He was at a soccer game being played at Hoover High School, and it was a money game. What that meant was that a group of gangsters from diverse parts of the world (remember, East San Diego) had gotten together and decided to bet on a live soccer game, and let the youngsters go at it.
Stephanie and Tino arrived, and Tino began to tape the soccer match with a pretty rad Leica digital camera that shot motion picture quality video. Stephanie hovered about the sidelines, watching her son, Kenworth.
It was a very hard fought match, 0-0 going into the second half of play. Kenworth was covered in sweat, battling for the ball and the breakaway, being shoved about, throwing his body to the side to avoid a disastrous collision of bodies on a contested 50-50 ball, chesting the ball down and blazing down the field, only to be tripped from behind, and blasting down to the ground, rolling to protect himself, then grimacing while laying on the ground in an effort to draw the call. At that point Stephanie was not about to remain silent.
"Red Card! Red card!" she screamed at the referee. An incredibly hot, probably underaged Asian young lady with a veritable super ass strode up to Stephanie. It was Kenworth's girlfriend, Amy. She said
"What are you doing here?"
"Amy?" said Stephanie, in total shock at her attitude.
"Kenworth doesn't need you. You're never here for his soccer games, never. And now you are. I smell a rat. Kenworth told me what you do for work."
Just then the assembled crowd began to roar, and Stephanie and Amy both turned to the field.
The soccer ball was in the air, on the fly, with a good chance. But it was too far forward toward Kenworth's opponents goal to field.
Then, with everyone watching, Kenworth turned on a burst of speed, slid just as the ball was going out of bounds, hooked it, popped up, reversed course as the defenders swarmed upon him, got through, unbelievably, and blasted a shot to the goal unbelievably fast, and almost from the end line. It ricocheted off the far side bar and slammed into the goal at over sixty miles per hour.
Everyone went absolutely nuts, even the losers. It was beyond a shadow of a doubt the greatest goal Kenworth had ever scored. Tino ran out onto the field holding his video camera low and getting Kenworth's reaction. Tino loved to videotape soccer, and this goal was from another planet. Kenworth's teammates mobbed him, and as he got lifted up, he pumped his fist at Amy, only to see a woman shouting and waving her arms. 'Mom?' thought Kenworth.
Green Day, '21st Century Breakdown Live' in Munich http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8nMt-oJG-2k
SOCCER MOM
Stephanie Clifton was in the CIA. At the moment she was striding down an internal hallway in the CIA headquarters at Langley, Virginia. She entered the office of her superior, who bade her sit down. He said
"Ms. Clifton, your next assignment will take you to South Africa, for the 2010 World Cup. Your mission is to gather valuable intelligence on the mood of the world. We wish for insight on the minds of men from other countries. Your on sight observations may prove valuable in the formulation of policy. What's important is that you provide accurate, detailed reports, untainted by bias or personal prejudice. If you think to pull punches for political reasons then you are in the wrong business. Politically tinged reports have no place in Central Intelligence Agency. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir." said Stephanie Clifton, simply.
"Intelligence is a lifelong pursuit." said her superior, for emphasis.
"I understand."
"Very well. Now, I'm given to understand that your son, Kenworth, is quite the soccer player. How would it be if he were to accompany you to South Africa....for cover?"
"Kenny?" asked Stephanie.
"You appear to have reservations. I understand that this is an unusual request."
"It's just that I wouldn't wish to be distracted from the performance of my duties by my responsibility as a parent."
"The two go hand in hand. This is a safe mission." said her superior flatly.
But Stephanie knew otherwise. Kenworth wasn't just a soccer superstar, he was a brilliant young genius, and her constant fear was that the company would take him away from her.
Paul Simon - 'The Boy in the Bubble' Live in Africa:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GykbnvufIZE
By diegonomics 12:24 a.m., May 11, 2010 > Report it
Diego, I say this out of love, I think you're cool beans, but you never have to include "Virginia" when you type "Langley". It would be as ridiculous as typing "Buenos Aires, Argentina". Or perhaps a better example, if I tell you that Newell's won by six goals over the weekend, I'd have no reason to include that they are "Old Boys". And if I did include it, that still wouldn't mean a damned thing to anyone that didn't know what I was talking about to begin with. Langley and CIA are like Boca and River. Those who get it, get it, and those who don't won't, no matter how you refer to it.
By refriedgringo 1:09 a.m., May 11, 2010 > Report it
Point well taken, RF:)
Stephanie was medium height, medium build, good looks, maximum bandwidth. Smarts- she had them. She shoved her dirty blonde bangs to the side of her forehead and peered intently at her superior, a silver haired gentlemen that though in his sixties was not grizzled and never would be.
A knock was heard at the door.
"Enter." said Stephanie's boss.
The door opened and 'Tino Escudero sauntered in, dressed in an olive green short leather jacket that made him look like a bullfighter, slacks, and dress shoes. His black mane was combed back , ala Antonio Banderas. He was an Argentine operative whose, ahem, card was on loan to Langley.
"Close the door behind you. Were you born in a barn?" said the boss.
"I see you've read my dossier." said Tino, winningly, while closing the door.
"Oh for God's sake. Mr. Escudero, this is Stephanie Clifton, you'll accompany her to South Africa. Stephanie, meet Tino Escudero."
"How do you do." said Stephanie, noting the 'This is already getting more interesting' look in Tino's eye.
"You'll be responsible for Ms. Clifton's safety and well being throughout the trip, though you'll receive breaks during the soccer matches when your consciousness will obviously be fused on the game, and you'd be useless as a bodyguard in any case....
Stephanie looked over toward her boss and gave him a significant look. He continued
"Forget any pretense of machismo. Ms. Clifton will be in charge. However, in consideration of your massive Argentine ego, and miniscule Argentine pocketbook, its been decided to allow you to hold the credit card, and pay expenses."
"As any gentleman would....I imagine." said Tino.
"Yes, well, here you are." said the CIA case officer, holding out a platinum credit card to Tino. He took it and pulled out his wallet to stick it in. As he did, two slips of paper fell out, which Tino retrieved a little too quickly, the boss thought.
"Whats that?" he demanded.
"Nothing, eh, phone numbers-" said Tino.
"Let me see."
"No, its nothing." insisted Tino.
"Give those notes to me now or I'll call security."
Tino handed one of them over. The CIA case officer looked at it gravely, and said
"A betting slip- Argentina to win the World Cup. Hmmm..."
Tino shrugged and tried to smile, saying
"A sentimental favorite- you understand, no?"
"Only too well. The other betting slip. Give it."
Tino winced and turned it over. The look on his face was not good. The boss reviewed it, and his face turned red.
"England to beat USA in game one?!"
"Its a longshot bet." said Tino, shrinking into his seat.
"I should think so. Because we are going to beat England worse than we did in the Revolution, do you hear?"
The Goals of Batistuta:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MdjOo4rj66c
By diegonomics 11:27 a.m., May 11, 2010 > Report it
Stephanie and Tino went to East San Diego, to pick up Kenworth. He was at a soccer game being played at Hoover High School, and it was a money game. What that meant was that a group of gangsters from diverse parts of the world (remember, East San Diego) had gotten together and decided to bet on a live soccer game, and let the youngsters go at it.
Stephanie and Tino arrived, and Tino began to tape the soccer match with a pretty rad Leica digital camera that shot motion picture quality video. Stephanie hovered about the sidelines, watching her son, Kenworth.
It was a very hard fought match, 0-0 going into the second half of play. Kenworth was covered in sweat, battling for the ball and the breakaway, being shoved about, throwing his body to the side to avoid a disastrous collision of bodies on a contested 50-50 ball, chesting the ball down and blazing down the field, only to be tripped from behind, and blasting down to the ground, rolling to protect himself, then grimacing while laying on the ground in an effort to draw the call. At that point Stephanie was not about to remain silent.
"Red Card! Red card!" she screamed at the referee. An incredibly hot, probably underaged Asian young lady with a veritable super ass strode up to Stephanie. It was Kenworth's girlfriend, Amy. She said
"What are you doing here?"
"Amy?" said Stephanie, in total shock at her attitude.
"Kenworth doesn't need you. You're never here for his soccer games, never. And now you are. I smell a rat. Kenworth told me what you do for work."
Just then the assembled crowd began to roar, and Stephanie and Amy both turned to the field.
The soccer ball was in the air, on the fly, with a good chance. But it was too far forward toward Kenworth's opponents goal to field.
Then, with everyone watching, Kenworth turned on a burst of speed, slid just as the ball was going out of bounds, hooked it, popped up, reversed course as the defenders swarmed upon him, got through, unbelievably, and blasted a shot to the goal unbelievably fast, and almost from the end line. It ricocheted off the far side bar and slammed into the goal at over sixty miles per hour.
Everyone went absolutely nuts, even the losers. It was beyond a shadow of a doubt the greatest goal Kenworth had ever scored. Tino ran out onto the field holding his video camera low and getting Kenworth's reaction. Tino loved to videotape soccer, and this goal was from another planet. Kenworth's teammates mobbed him, and as he got lifted up, he pumped his fist at Amy, only to see a woman shouting and waving her arms. 'Mom?' thought Kenworth.
Green Day, '21st Century Breakdown Live' in Munich http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8nMt-oJG-2k