So, after finishing my La Liga preview, I found that in parts 1 and 2 I forgot some teams. How that happened, I don’t know, but here I am making amends for it with a full on, all the teams preview. Apologies for making you re-read anything. This time I’ve put them in order from 20th to 1, so that you can let the excitement build all the way to the drum roll that will accompany the surprising trophy winner. You’ll never see it coming…
Category: State of the Liga
Oh hey there. Didn’t see you sneak up on me like that. You’re so crazy. Here I am minding my own business and suddenly you pop up, pants me, and make me abandon my family, loved ones, and bathing habits. Way to go, guy. Oh, you’re La Liga, right. Way to go, lady.
Every year La Liga starts and then goes on FIFA break, so this year I planned in both that and my own laziness in the matter and decided not to publish a preview until after the transfer window closed. Thank goodness I did. Also, before we get this started, can we all chuckle quietly to ourselves about this? I mean, sure, I’m lucky to follow a big club that can discard international players on a whim (and for peanuts!) but seriously, I actually laughed when I read that. It’s not Arun Verma’s fault that he’s excited about Birmingham City’s chances–and indeed they look like they made some pretty solid moves–but I’m sorry, that made me chuckle.
Okay, so, then, my approach this year was to go alphabetically rather than by how I thought they would end up. You’ll learn to deal with it by the end. This is only part 1, so I’m going from Almeria down to Getafe. Let’s get it started, shall we? There may be one or two incorrect transfers
It’s the last week of the season and that means another State of the Liga for all of you to digest as you wait pensively for the kickoff on Sunday (at 1pmEST). I’ve been rather delinquent with my State of the Liga’s this year–this is my 4th one and first since Christmas Day–but fear not, for there is much to discuss. It is, after all, the end of times and we’ve got to gently wrap up this epic league season with some sort of awesomeness, right?
Remember back when I was making season predictions? I don’t either. Basically, I totally nailed everything. Don’t even bother clicking that link I stupidly included for you so that you could actually click it and then come back and talk smack to me about how stupid I am. Just trust me that I totally nailed where everyone would end up. It would be fairly hilariously awesome if Xerez ended up 17th and surviving at the expense of Tenerife simply because of how much crap I took for predicting just that, but I don’t see it as particularly likely even if Xerez wins at Osasuna.
After you’ve checked out Kevin’s holiday post, read this here discussion. But not before, do you hear me?
Fifteen games down, sixty percent of the season still remaining. That’s an awful lot of football to be crammed in between now and the middle of May, when the final jornada is played. But let’s talk about the past for a little bit, rather than dwelling entirely on the future. There has been some amazing stuff going on and it’s well worth discussing.
Everyone has their own point-of-view on things. Mine is usually that pie is a solid breakfast. Also, I like statistics mixed with a heavy dose of perspective. I’m a fan of numbers because they sound fancy and you can bend them to your will fairly easily, yet I can claim to not understand them.
Today’s statistical analysis is merely an overview of what has transpired so far this season, focusing mostly on Barça’s current achievements and personnel, for obvious this-is-a-Barça-site reasons.
The dawn spreads its wispy fingers over the roofs of the neighboring buildings, sliding casually down Atlantic, splaying sideways at Flatbush. It dims the street light that shines through my window at that perfect angle where any attempt to block it from my eyes causes me to lose the air circulation in my room. I shift and try to sleep more, longer, anything to get rid of this feeling in my stomach. For once it’s not last night’s rounds with the boys that is causing me this insomnia. I look at my watch: 5 more hours to go. I roll over, pressing my face into the pillow. I roll over again, pulling the sheet over my legs then flipping it off moments later. I look at my watch: 4 hours, 59 minutes to go. I roll over, exhale.
“Stop tossing around, honey.” We love each other, of course, my girlfriend and I, but at 6am on Sunday morning, there is no such thing as empathy, just mumbled hatred. I try to hold still, but it’s too hot. I sit up and take a drink of water from the cup on the nightstand. I plop back down, exhale. “Stop tossing around, dickhead.”
I can’t explain it to her, she’ll never understand. It’s August 30 and I’m waiting as patiently as I can. I think she knows, intuitively, without having been reminded, that it’s Jornada 1, it’s el primer dia de la primera. It’s kickoff, it’s the beginning of another obsession. It’s gameday. No wonder I can’t sleep.