Word for the week: Kick

Because...

The 2007 Rugby World Cup just concluded in France last weekend. I got up at 3am bubbling with the excitement of an alligator creeping up to an unsuspecting antelope in a Congo savannah...

And ended up watching South Africa beat England 15-6 by kicking five penalties against England's two. Yes, kicking. A sport built around the concept of a bunch of epic oafs who inflict bone-crippling pain on the opposition and chew off each others ears en route to scoring an earth-shattering try—and it's most important game was decided by thumping a ball through a pair of sticks. If I wanted balls and sticks, I woulda ordered meatball kebab. IRB, I demand that you refund me my 3am.

Okkervil River - Unless It's Kicks (from The Stage Names)
Baroque rock loaded onto a wagon, and then dragged through Andrea Bocelli's lower cavity on the way to Deadwood.

The Kicks - 12 Steps (from O'rama)
Arkansas pop punkers perform artful sugar surgery, making some fine incisions to trim the lipids that panicked at the disco and fell out of boy.

Lupe Fiasco - Kick, Push (from Food & Liquor)
Some hail this rap gem as the best depiction of skateboarding. It is so not. If it was, the song would be called "Whirrrrr, OH SHHI...SONOFA... splattt... Stupid Doberman".

Kings of Leon - Four Kicks (from Day Old Belgian Blues EP)
Bluesy rock siblings renovate a Brussels stage to resemble the mossiest crevices of their garage.

French Kicks - So Far We Are (from Two Thousand)
If the French rugby team reproduced this song's two-step vivacity during their semi-final match against England—it would probably still have resulted in a boring-ass final.

Word for the week: Ball

Because...

The English Premiere League has started. Yeah, I know it's not the only football league (soccer for all you oval pig-skin supporting types) in the world. But it's honestly the only one we're bothered about. One-third of the pirates is religiously going for Liverpool as he has for like forever. The other roots for whoever is on his fantasy football roster. And me? I'm a sport neutral by nature, but I reckon Sunderland are going to do stuff. Nasty stuff.

Anyways, here are some songs, together with the types of football games they might be best suited for. Plus, since I missed Word for the Week last week, here's me being extra generous. I'm cool like that.

White Stripes - Ball and Biscuit (from Elephant)
2 - 3. In the 2nd minute, the goalie bites the striker's balls; it's a non-stop bloodbath thereon in, with the winner coming in injury time as the teams' towelboys pummel each other.

The Observatory - Oddball (from Blank Walls)
1 - 1. In the 32nd minute, three streakers invade the pitch. They are joined by the stadium security, who see it as their coming out party.

Jack Johnson - Mudfootball (from Bushfire Fairytales)
5 - 4. Impromptu beach football match, dominated by a 12-year-old Portuguese prodigy whose monosyllabic name alone will earn him a 12 million pound contract one day.

Treeball - Favourite Enemy (from I Dream Of Eclectic Sheep)
4 - 0. The home side just spent 300 million pounds on new janitors. The visitors work as janitors.

Joe Hisaishi - Boiraa Mushi (Sootballs) (from Spirited Away soundtrack)
0 - 2. Foggy conditions prevent long ball specialists from ruining the game, and the close control balladeers step in for 90 minutes of paradise.

Interpol - Wrecking Ball (from Our Love To Admire)
1 - 1. Chockablock with sublime midfield passing and mazy dribbling. The fans are the winners.

The Dodos - The Ball (from Beware Of The Maniacs)
3 - 0. The home team scores all goals in the first 25 minutes, then lets their hyperactive 17-year-olds give the visitors a muscle-cramping runaround.

R.E.M. - Beachball (from Reveal)
2 - 2. One foul, zero yellow or red cards. Both teams exchange shirts, phone numbers and wives after the game.

The Hold Steady - Take Me Out To The Ballgame (single)
Play ball.

Word for the week: Paris

Because:

- The French Open recently concluded. Predictably I might add. And like, what's with all those abstract camera angles? It's freakin' tennis, not the Louvre.

- I watched Paris, je t'aime. Brilliant in bits, decent in parts, overrated in whole.

- There was another story about Paris Hilton. Which, if I talked about, would make me more boring than her. Which no creature should aspire to become.

Peter Bjorn and John - Paris 2004
Sufjan Stevens - Free Man in Paris (Joni Mitchell cover)
CSS - Meeting Paris Hilton