Inter-ness: bye-bye, IRC
(Being [a] bounced, and [b] ogled by children. All is right with the world.)
Though this match was notable chiefly as the last home appearance of “Orc”, as Martha’s phone insists on calling him, I believe we did also win a derby, bag three points, get the first derby hat-trick since 1959 and, er, hand the Scudetto to Juve. All right, we didn’t mean to do that last one, but Dirtbunnies will be pleased.
Also, Maicon is not 100% useless. Dilemma!
Inter 4-2 AC Milan (Highlights; tactical analysis; unusually good Guardian mbm in which the bloke only criticises Italian football once, as a joke; Gazzetta pagelle)
Scorers: Milito 14, Ibrahimovic 44 (pen), Ibrahimovic 46, Milito 52 (pen), Milito 79 (pen), Maicon 87.
Inter: 1 Julio Cesar; 13 Maicon, 6 Lucio, 25 Samuel, 55 Nagatomo; 4 Zanetti, 19 Cambiasso, 14 Guarin (Obi 62); 11 Alvarez (Pazzini 48), 10 Sneijder (Cordoba 84); 22 Milito. Unused subs: 12 Castellazzi, 2 Cordoba, 17 Palombo, 23 Ranocchia, 28 Zarate. Coach: Andrea Stramaccioni.
AC Milan: 32 Abbiati (Amelia 35); 20 Abate, 13 Nesta, 76 Yepes, 25 Bonera (De Sciglio 21); 22 Nocerino, 4 Van Bommel, 14 Muntari (Cassano 77); 27 Boateng; 70 Robinho, 11 Ibrahimovic. Unused subs: 5 Mexes, 8 Gattuso, 18 Aquilani, 21 Maxi Lopez. Coach: Massimiliano Allegri.
Martha, it turns out there was a reason the pitch looked so nice.
*Squints* “Ti te dominat Milito”... No, wait, that’s “Milan”, isn’t it? Oh, well, whatever.
I’m only looking at the bit about IRC. I apologise if the rest of it’s rude.
Is this about Stram?
YIKES
Later, things got smoky.
Ah, the “Merde” banner! Couldn’t start a derby without it.
Ditto the “Oh Nooo” shirt; we’re all set now.
(Look, the scary man looks much less scary now he’s wearing one.)
Apparently the one on the left used to be a ref and the other one is Nicola Savino. Who?
Well, this one’s a bit nicer to look at.
Ditto x10. Is she getting younger?
Massmo grimaces in terror and tries to look as if he’s smiling.
But never mind all that!
Out on the pitch, the many Cordobots were getting ready to greet their leader.
Well, except Salt And Vinegar Diego, who was sulking, and Pazzo, who was laughing at him.
TA-DAH!
For once he is receiving the accolades he deserves.
Most of the team hugged IRC while Forlan carried on sulking and Orli eyed up Zarate.
Then Massmo turned up, cast a suspicious eye around to make sure no babies were being sexxed on the pitch, and announced that the Proper Hugging could start.
The team found this much less interesting. (I am fascinated by the hot-air balloons, btw.)
Awww. That’s more like it! S. American love. (Orli still seems to be enjoying himself a bit too much.)
Then the babies stepped up, so the camera discreetly cut to Nesta’s turn. (He knows how it is to be an old, sometimes broken defender.)
Then Ivan got down with his tray.
He may not have 10,000 of them like Javi, but it’ll do. (Also, good thing the derby was the posticipo; I remember Figo’s tray blinding everyone by shining the sun in their eyes.)
Yes, you are allowed to kiss the badge if you’ve been at Inter for 12 years. Good thinking.
AWWW HE LOOKS JUST LIKE HIS DAUGHTER. <3
Sadly, it was then the end of The IRC Show and our teams lined up, all wearing white T-shirts for some reason.
(Maicon is shouting at Fredy to stop looking so cheerful.)
And we are flung in at the deep end with JC’s Little Problem.
(No, not his dick, I meant KPB. Or the ref, who may indeed have a small dick for all I know.)
He did a beautiful, clean intervention on Boateng (as basically everyone agreed) and was rewarded with a yellow card and a penalty. (Some people think Boateng had been offside anyway, but it looks very marginal to me in the highlights.)
The players’ reaction to this was almost as good as the Injustice Of Football one.
Lucio and his eyebrows came along to defend Brazilian Honour
while the rest tried to be reasonable.
(Wes, apparently, found the whole thing hilarious.)
At about this point, Lucio began to remember why he sometimes finds JC really annoying.
“Throws sugar lumps at me on the plane, hangs his coat on my statue of Jesus and won’t even throw a stick for me in training! I’ve had it.”
JC: “Lucio. LUCIO!”
Wes, of all people, was forced to point out that JC might be overreacting slightly.
“Think how much worse it would be if Kaka was your captain! Could you bribe him with Snausages to get out of a prayer circle?”
This was such a horrible thought that it rendered JC speechless and aghast even after Wes had let him go.
Fortunately (?), he recovered in time to annoy Zlatan. (And waste about half an hour; one of my commentators was going mental.)
In fairness, JC’s ability to be annoying is pretty well-developed.
While he’s talking to Zlatan, shall we discuss his performance? Cos when he wasn’t conceding goals or getting done for non-existent penalties, he was great in his 300th Inter match.
Inter.it (who may be slightly biased) call one of his saves on Ibra “a minor miracle” (the MBM man offers the sophisticated analysis that he “made himself big”). He kept Robinho and Abate out, too.
Oh, wait, he’s finished his distracting-Ibra thing. Let’s see how it worked, shall we?
Er, not so well. (If only he had the same effect on Zlatan as he does on Lucio.)
This is almost identical to his celebration face, but I’ll assume it’s a grimace and put it here.
(Speaking of faces, I love Fredy’s.)
Javi: *Closes his eyes and thinks about his hair*
Nice as it would have been if the failure had ended there, the same man got a second goal within two minutes of play.
Very demoralising. (Hi, Wally’s knickers.)
Speaking of Wu, he was pretty good and helped Wes out with Milito’s goal. Thumbs up.
(OK, he was a little bit impressed that KPB could do that.)
Here is our picture of Lucio growling and trying to stomp on someone. He put the ball in the net, but the goal was taken back for offside. Tuttomercato’s Google translation also gives the most hilarious faint praise ever: “He was almost always quite accurate in the interventions.”
Wow. Abate’s hair really clashes with his head.
Er, yes. Where was I?... Oh, great, NOW HE’S WEARING A RUFF. I’ll never be able to concentrate on Yuto now!
*Looks determinedly away from Abate* When Yuto wasn’t flying through the air, he got a shot on goal and provided an assist for his Dutch other self.
He was also concerned about Robinho’s rigor mortis. (The mbm man, incidentally, said Robinho “twisted his blood”; pretty sure I don’t want to know what that means.)
Sulley thinks life was a lot easier when he was playing with this bloke (and his thighs) and not against him.
Pupi went on his usual “must show I am fitter than these twentysomethings” run at the end and won a corner. My commentators called him the Highlander, though this conjured up a worrying image of him, Maldini and ADP trying to chop off each other’s heads. Oh, and everyone loves him. Of course.
Look, a picture of Guarin kicking the ball! \o/ He took a Dekishot in the first half that only narrowly missed, then went off for Joel (of whom there are no pictures) in the second half because he was hurt.
It’s amazing how gormless and gangly Alvarez looks all the time. I can’t believe Martha laughed at Frog for the same reason; he looks like Bruce Lee in comparison.
Looks can be deceiving, though. (He didn’t do anything in this game, but I’m still peeved with Tuttomercato for calling him the flop of the match.)
Wes was greeted by Sulley and Van Bommel in their usual way. (NOT that I would ever equate them morally, physically or spiritually. So there.)
He spent the rest of the match killing Abbiatti and making faces, but that’s a pretty good thing in my book.
When the photographers weren’t looking, he took several long-range shots on goal or just wide, and assisted on Milito’s goal from open play.
(Wes went off for an ineffectual but very important person in the 84th minute.)
IT IS THE FLYING CUCHUUUUUU
Pretty tough match for Cuchu; his possibly-a-goal was deemed not to have crossed the line and Martha opined in the second half that she was sure his head would explode.
(His head seems all right, but perhaps he’s got a lot of spares, like his wigs.)
Intriguingly, the pictures show him mostly committing acts of violence. Here we see him making a KPB kebab.
Next, Zlatan squeals and covers his face as if he’s a supermodel who wandered out onto the pitch by mistake.
(Only, well, uglier.)
Don’t mess with The Cuchu. He will stiletto you.
Now let’s look at Stram posing.
Was Ranieri really still the coach last time I spammed?
It is a great tragedy of ASA that Stram never got his own Stramspam, if only because the word sounds nice.
Also, his poses are always either impressive or deeply amusing.
Special would be proud.
Special would also be proud of Stram’s smirk and bitchpose in this picture, and I must admit, so am I. Also amused.
Though not as amused as I am by Lucio’s expression. “I AM THE ONLY SENSIBLE PERSON ON MY NATIONAL TEAM. Jesus, can I take a horrible revenge? Just once?”
He has no idea Zlatan’s there, does he.
Our miracle man, ladies and gentlemen. Can we give him the bidone d’oro every year? The effect it seems to have on his play is mesmerising. (THAT WAS A JOKE, CONNY)
When he wasn’t getting manhandled by Yepes and ogled by Nocerino, he scored goals.
The first one was, er, one of the easiest goals anyone’s ever scored, but never mind.
Nesta and Nocerino: “What’s ‘defending’?”
Wes took a free kick, Wu messed about with it a bit and Milito tapped it in.
Goal!
(Awwww - Bonera’s trying to be useful!)
While Walter had an orgasm, Cuchu made some surprisingly infectious arms of joy.
“I’VE SCORED! THIS IS SO AMAZING!”
“LOOK AT MY VEINS!”
(I dunno which celebration this belongs to, so I’m sticking it here.)
Then there was pointing.
Maicon found the concept very confusing.
So Milito gave him a hug.
(I dunno which celebration this was from, either! I’m as confused as Maicon. OK, mebbes not that much.)
Cuchu hit Wally over the head and then the posse charged off.
Cuchu did make time for a quick “WE’RE COMING TO GETCHA”, though. Scary.
Next Milan misstep: Abate was overcome with lust and flung himself on Millipede’s back. Actually, it looked as if he was trying to play leapfrog.
Cuchu lurked during the PK to give advice.
“HIT IT WITH YOUR RIGHT FOOT, DIEGO. YES, THAT’S RIGHT.”
Amelia (the Fascist had gone off injured) had no chance.
Again, I’m not sure if this is delight or frustration, but it’s going here.
After all, Milito was pulling the same face, wasn’t he?
Amelia looks a bit surprised about the ball-pinching thing, doesn’t he? “He’s not scored his hat-trick yet. What’s he want that for?”
Milito ran off to do his bonkers eyes and Communist salute.
I am disappointed that “stellazza” turns out not to mean “stellar” in Italian.
OK, if you’ve scored sixty goals for Inter, you can pound the badge, too.
You can also score us another three. We don’t mind. (This PK was for a really unintentional-looking handball by Nesta. Tight for Milan.)
The Arms of Joy were unleashed once more!
(LOL CUCHU.)
BAHAHAHAHAHA!!1! Best picture of Milito EVAR. Admittedly, it was even better before I realised he was making 3s with his hands and just thought he was going RAAAAAH, but still, definitely top. I can see why Pazzo looks so frightened.
Then he just started pulling his usual faces that make me think “The human mouth does not work that way”.
Pazzo had a very bad feeling about this whole thing, as did his tongue.
(I feel like it’s difficult to blame him when I see Milito like this.)
Fprtunately, danger was averted: Millipede just imitated a baseball pitcher.
Since he’d just got the first Milan Derby hat-trick since 1959 (and only the fourth ever), I think he was quite pleased.
(Of course, someone’s bound to object that two of them were penalties, but if we’re not counting penalties in goal tallies we at least have the consolation of watching Francesco Totti crumble into nothingness.)
Wes and Obi, who love a good celebration, came and jumped on Millipede’s head.
Obi looks very sated. (Hi, his hair.)
Then Cuchu did a head-bump that scares the shit out of me. Fortunately, Milito liked it.
I’m not sure which celebration this IRC tribute goes in, either, so it’s here.
Interestingly, Milito seems to have caught Javi’s hair-touching phobia.
As an ageing Argentine, is it something he feels he ought to cultivate?
Then Stram grabbed Milito to check his takeaway order while Banti stared at his arse.
"THAI OR LEBANESE?" (Yes, Martha, I agree his hair does look odd.)
Finally, when the celebration was all but over, Yuto turned up and wanted a hug.
(Walter jogged away in disgust at the sickening cuteness he knew was coming.)
AWWWWWWWW!!!!!1!!
KPB’s left knee: worst. Zenga tribute. Evar.
Where was I? Oh, yeah, Maicon.
He scored a goal. It was a goal that no-one on earth felt equal to immortalising, hence the elegant and beautiful diagram you see here.
Since he’s Maicon, he then took off his shirt, got a card and didn’t even show us any nudity. It was a nice goal, though.
“TIFOSI! I have something to tell you!”
“Remember in 2010, when we were winning cups and stuff?”
“Remember how I pounded my badge and promised I would stay at Inter?”
“WELL, I KEPT MY PROMISE! Despite usually playing so appallingly badly that you wished I would break it!"
“And now I am going to carry on staying at Inter. PS I am letting my pants show in memory of Mario.”
“Now! Must lose the shirt and get cuddling!”
(Ta, Interleaning.)
Muppet pointing! Hoorah! \o/ (Though the spit is a bit disgusting.)
“HUGS!”
Wes and Frog were happy. (Martha was even happier, cos Frog didn’t get to play.)
Then Maicon and JC did a celebration so inane that Lucio probably committed ritual suicide. Nobody took a picture (probably because they were laughing too much), but you can watch it on the highlight video if you really must.
Next, Stram turned up and yelled. Maicon was concerned.
Oh, phew; it’s safe after all.
Oi, Maicon: pay attention to the short one. Yes, I know Milito scores hat-tricks and all, but still.
Then we had six minutes left. “Please let this match be over, please let this match be over...”
AND IT WAS! \o/
Now, I’m certain this one is a happy face.
Javi showed off the Plastic Biceps Of Doom.
Stram gave more cuddles, which made Amelia lonely.
Then he got all pointy and it spread to Alvarez.
Yuto, who loves other short people, decided to start an IRC orgy,
and it worked!
Bouncy bouncy!
(Incidentally, I am severely disappointed by Chivu’s failure to celebrate his fellow Crap Inter Left Back. Is he ill? Consoling a weeping Deki? Did they lock him in the tribuna so he couldn’t join in?)
Bliney, look at Wally. He’s really into it.
Casta is amazed by the humans’ celebration rituals, while the babies are horny.
Faraoni’s eyesight is cause for serious alarm,
and, finally, Lucio’s smiling! The end of the world! (Colombians are much more sensible than Brazilians.)
I think Stram was happy.
He went off to listen to the crowd shouting “Stramala” at him,
and IRC got a special present from his favourite type of teammate.
This is the end of the spam! I’m not sure there will ever be another spam, though rest assured that if Napoli win the Coppa (ha ha) I will cover it. Hope you enjoyed this one.