Saturday, May 26, 2012

Better ... Much Better ... But Still Room for Improvement

The United States Men's National Team has just played a truly exciting, even scintillating match against Scotland, a team struggling to regain a position in the third tier of European international soccer. There will be plenty of commentary on the Web about the match itself, especially about Landon Donovan's magnificent hat trick and Michael Bradley's utterly astounding half-volley goal; and let's not overlook Jermaine Jones's difficult header off a cross from Donovan, to wrap up the scoring in a 5:1 win (the Scotland goal coming on an unavoidable own-goal in the 15th minute). So I won't say any more about that.

There are really only three comments I want to make, on subjects that, as a spectator, are important to me but that, I reckon, won't be much discussed in the talking-heads chat rooms:

1) What idiot decided to dress our team in red and white hoops? One reasonably intelligent observer called it the "Where's Waldo" kit, and he's right. But more important to the television audience, was it the same damned fool who decided that what those silly uniforms really need was silver numbers on a white background? Did no one give a thought to what they would look like on TV? The numbers are invisible.

2) I was again impressed at the composure of the US defense. This seems to have been the first thing Jurgen Klinsmann addressed after taking over the team, and it is already paying dividends. At no point during tonight's game did our guys look like six-year-olds playing kickball in front of the goal. Even when Scotland were menacing our goal (which, despite the score line, the did do from time to time), our back four kept their cool. There were no desperate slashes at the ball, which in the past have often been the source of opponents' goals. Carlos Bocanegra, in particular, has raised himself in my esteem after a few performances under Klinsmann's influence. (And it's great to see Oguchi Onyewu back from injury.)

Arlo White doing a Sounders match
3) Kudos to NBC Sports Network for raising the bar on soccer commentary in the USA. Arlo White, an Englishman who had been doing commentary for the Seattle Sounders, is a great improvement over the breathy bozos that broadcasters usually bring in for this sport. He was fairly low-key, in the English manner, which I appreciate after hearing so many American commentators punctuate every third word of every sentence with an exclamation point, and drag down every match with unimaginative co-optation of NFL jargon. Plus, White was generally good at telling us viewers who was on the ball ... especially important, since we couldn't see the numbers on the jerseys. Kyle Martino may not have been as incisive as some other US color-commentators in the sport, but he at least has the great virtue of not speaking simply to hear his own voice, like most people who grew up watching the NFL on TV: he seems to understand the difference between those broadcasts, and soccer broadcasts: an NFL game consists of nine minutes of action over the course of two and a half hours, so most of the time the commentators' choice is between drivel and dead air. 

That's all I have to say ... except: 
USA! USA! USA! USA!

Picture credit: By Noelle Noble (Flickr: _DSC0221) [CC-BY-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Friday, May 18, 2012

Invasion Of The Lizard Men

File:Battleship Poster.jpgBattleship
starring Taylor Kitsch
   Liam Neeson
   Alexander Skarsgård
   Rihanna
   Brooklyn Decker
directed by Peter Berg

There is a plot, of sorts: highly advanced aliens invade in response to a naïve signal humans sent out to a distant planet with earth-like attributes. Don't get too wrapped up in that: it's so full of holes that spongiform tissue, by comparison, is a paradigm of structural integrity. The plot, along with the various subplots — and every character in this movie, however thinly drawn, is dealing with issues — are merely the skeleton on which to hang the main attraction: we movie-goers get to witness expertly-done special effects that provide entertainment from the beginning of the movie to the end.

There is acting, of a sort, in the movie. The hero is played as two-dimensionally as a 3D movie character can be; others do more with less, and Liam Neeson, the only accomplished actor in the film, gets the best line (delivered by telephone to a bureaucrat in D.C.) in the film. The acting, like the plot, is insignificant. The makers of this toy-based movie have not forgotten that this film's only purpose is to entertain enough to make a huge profit.

In the end, boy wins girl (and, more importantly, wins over her father), paraplegic finds his lost will to overcome, nerd finds courage, hot chick shows she can drive too, and the (carrier-based) Cavalry comes to the rescue. It's a feel-good movie all around, unless your people are reptilian, and oh, isn't it reassuring to know that our 21st-Century naval forces — American, Canadian, Japanese, British, and fifteen other unnamed nationalities (but mostly us Americans, with a single Japanese naval officer) — supplemented by one World-War-II-era battleship (staffed in part by a handful of World-War-II-era sailors, is adequate to utterly defeat such wildly advanced invasion forces! You betcha by golly it is.


Saturday, May 12, 2012

Get Your Mesquite-Grilled Margaritas Right Here

Goode Company Taqueria
4902 Kirby Drive
Houston
(at Westpark)

No, obviously, they don't have mesquite-grilled margaritas; they just have a little trouble with the niceties of the English language. A common enough occurence these days that generally passes unnoticed, except by grammar-wonks (which I have been ever since seeing the signs on the doors of the University of Texas Law School: "These doors are alarmed.") (I never learned what had the doors so agitated.)

What Goode Company Taqueria does have is an extensive breakfast menu made more than usually interesting by the prominence of unusual ingredients; things like venison, nopalitos and quail, for example. 

Our choices from this menu were Buck Fever and Huevos con Venado. The first is a plate of eggs any style, served with two patties of venison sausage, hash brown potatoes and a choice of bread. We chose eggs over easy and biscuits; there was, according to the menu, a choice of sausage with or without jalapeño, but our order-taker didn't ask and we didn't specify. We got sausage without jalapeño. 

What does that mean?
The eggs were cooked perfectly; clearly some restaurant kitchens need to find out where Goode Company trains its people. The sausage was very lean and had a very good flavour with a slight piquancy to it. The biscuits were just okay, not light or fluffy like fresh-made biscuits, but they weren't bad. The potatoes, though, were unappealing, despite a hefty treatment of both ham and bacon in the mix. They were overdone, approaching mushiness, and their dark colour was unappetizing.

The huevos con venado were better to eat than to look at. They are made with ground-up venison sausage mixed into scrambled eggs, and on the plate it looked unappealing: a dry, mottled brown-and-yellow slab. But looks are deceiving. The taste was reasonably good, though the final product was a little dry, as though the egg mixture had lain a moment too long on the grill. This dish was paired with traditional sides: rice and beans, both of which were excellent. The rice even had shredded chicken mixed in, an unexpected pleasure. The tortillas were excellent when warm: thin and flavourful; but they cooled and dried quickly to a chewy cardboard texture.

There is no service at Goode Company Taqueria: you order at the counter and pick up your order when called. The dining room appears comfortable; we sat in the large enclosed patio (there is also an open patio behind) but had trouble finding a table where there was no draft from the fans and air conditioning vents, and no puddles from the leaky roof. The tables are traditional Mexican-style café tables, the chairs metal and vinyl in traditional Mexican colours, inexpensive but comfortable and gay (in the non-sexual sense). The prices seemed a little high but not outrageous; once we were served, they seemed reasonable for what we got.
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