In Memoriam: Paul the Octopus


As the entire world, even those living in caves or the people who live under the Las Vegas strip, the CHUDS I believe they are called, well know by now, Paul the Octopus, predictor, Oracle, god to many of us, has passed away at the ripe old age of 2.5 years. We here at THE Barcelona Football Blog are not the cold, calculating sons (and daughters) of bitches we might seem to be at first blush. We have feelings too, feelings of pride and sadness, or glory and failure, or living and dying. Unfortunately during this dark week our lives have been collectively shattered and we leave this memorial in tact so that you may share your most fond memories of our most holy of Krakens.


Like yours truly during the World Cup this summer, Paul was a master predictor of game results (heh–see what I did there?). Paul meant so much to so many of us and honestly, I am too devastated to go on any further, so I will let the poets take it away. Please leave your fondest notes in the comment section.

In Memoriam A.H.H. – Alfred, Lord Tennyson, in part:

I hold it true, whate’er befall;
I feel it when I sorrow most;
‘Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

Categorized as Nonsense

By Luke

We calls 'em likes we sees 'em.


  1. They should have cooked and eaten it long time ago.
    Long before it became another stupid pointless marketing entity that drew attention away from the actual product.

  2. RIP Paul. It was fun seeing my friends supporting the Netherlands squirming before the final because of your prediction of a Spain win.

    Your tentacles of prognostication will be remembered. Hail, Paul.

  3. 1. Remove Paul from tank.
    2. Put Paul in earthenware cazuela.
    3. Add:
    a. Liberal splosh of olive oil.
    b. One garlic clove, smushed and chopped.
    c. Heaping dash of paprika.
    d. Pinch of sea salt.
    4. Put cazuela in oven or over open flame until sizzling.
    5. Toast to Paul with a stiff homemade bootleg Galician aguardiente.

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