There's no better feeling in football than watching your opponent throw himself to the floor in an attempt to tackle you, skipping past, waiting for him to catch up with you and repeating the trick. Most top players only get the pleasure of doing this on grass, but on a cinder pitch it is even more fun. I got some bruised ankles for my troubles, but I guess that the defenders of Black and White Bochum got some bloody legs from the hard cinder pitch.
Other good things about the match: we won the game with our only good shot on goal, the opponents were top of the league, and we are now their bogey team, and our winning goal, a left-footed strike from outside the penalty area by youngster Michael somehow flew high into the net in slow motion.
Monday, October 22, 2007
It Was Fun While It Lasted
The Winner, and Nuuuuuuuuuuuu, dominant ape of the planet, is .....the Rhesus macaques.
The Deputy Mayor of a capital city, for fucks sake! What are the chances of that? Assuming, as usual, that this is not a coincidence, this was either
a/ A planned political assassination by monkeys
b/ The latest in a string of monkey killings
Either way, we're fucked.
And the plan to save us from these damned dirty apes?
Well, no dangers lurking around the corner there, then.
This approach reminded me of a scene from the Simpsons, where Bart helped introduce bird-eating Bolivian Tree Lizards to Springfield, and is thanked by the town for solving their pigeon problem. The episode ends with a discussion between Principal Skinner and Lisa.
The Deputy Mayor of a capital city, for fucks sake! What are the chances of that? Assuming, as usual, that this is not a coincidence, this was either
a/ A planned political assassination by monkeys
b/ The latest in a string of monkey killings
Either way, we're fucked.
And the plan to save us from these damned dirty apes?
One approach has been to train bands of larger, more ferocious langur monkeys to go after the smaller groups of Rhesus macaques.
Well, no dangers lurking around the corner there, then.
This approach reminded me of a scene from the Simpsons, where Bart helped introduce bird-eating Bolivian Tree Lizards to Springfield, and is thanked by the town for solving their pigeon problem. The episode ends with a discussion between Principal Skinner and Lisa.
SKINNER: Well, I was wrong. The lizards are a godsend.
LISA: But isn't that a bit short-sighted? What happens when we're overrun by lizards?
SKINNER: No problem. We simply unleash wave after wave of Chinese needle snakes. They'll wipe out the lizards.
LISA: But aren't the snakes even worse?
SKINNER: Yes, but we're prepared for that. We've lined up a fabulous type of gorilla that thrives on snake meat.
LISA: But then we're stuck with gorillas!
SKINNER: No, that's the beautiful part. When wintertime rolls around, the gorillas simply freeze to death.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Wondering Why it's Only After Dark
Warning: this post uses html microdots.
I was flicking through a "what's going on in the Ruhrpott" magazine last night, and glanced over the personal ads. All I found was a lovely German word: tageslichttauglich. This literally means "daylight compatible", and seems to describe a minimum standard of attractiveness and grooming. If 18 letters is too short for you, or if you are are looking for a creature of the night, then you can add an "un" to get "tageslichtuntauglich", meaning "daylight incompatible". Finally, a politically correct term for vampires.
What a lovely language, and what a wonderful country. There was even someone advertising that she had lots of wood in front of her shed. It's an odd thing to boast about, but I suppose you need something to keep you warm in the cold, dark months ahead.
I was flicking through a "what's going on in the Ruhrpott" magazine last night, and glanced over the personal ads. All I found was a lovely German word: tageslichttauglich. This literally means "daylight compatible", and seems to describe a minimum standard of attractiveness and grooming. If 18 letters is too short for you, or if you are are looking for a creature of the night, then you can add an "un" to get "tageslichtuntauglich", meaning "daylight incompatible". Finally, a politically correct term for vampires.
What a lovely language, and what a wonderful country. There was even someone advertising that she had lots of wood in front of her shed. It's an odd thing to boast about, but I suppose you need something to keep you warm in the cold, dark months ahead.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Funny names
Warning: this post contains childish humour and at least one bad pun from me.
I was in a meeting this morning, discussing the purchase of electronic equipment. One of our suppliers is Wayne Kerr electronics. I wonder if they had to beat off bids from Hugh Jass, Mike Hunt and Heywood Jablome.
Links:
Here's the wikipedia take on gag names.
Check out whether there really is a Nicola Tipples (UK electoral register only).
I was in a meeting this morning, discussing the purchase of electronic equipment. One of our suppliers is Wayne Kerr electronics. I wonder if they had to beat off bids from Hugh Jass, Mike Hunt and Heywood Jablome.
Links:
Here's the wikipedia take on gag names.
Check out whether there really is a Nicola Tipples (UK electoral register only).
Monday, October 15, 2007
Torpedo Entenhausen 6 - VfL Linden 2
It's been a successful "English week" for Torpedo Entenhausen, with seven points from three games in eight days. Someone asked me what an English week was called in England, and my reply was "a week". Germans seem to think that once a week is enough, when it comes to playing football, and I do admit to feeling quite tired now.
Luckily I didn't have to do too much today as Andy, our midfielder with a good left foot, scored the first five goals. He was on such a hot streak that he even netted one with his right foot.
Right on the final whistle I fired a shot from just outside the box high into the goal for our sixth. The goalkeeper was lying on the floor having just made a save, but it was a nice feeling anyway.
Luckily I didn't have to do too much today as Andy, our midfielder with a good left foot, scored the first five goals. He was on such a hot streak that he even netted one with his right foot.
Right on the final whistle I fired a shot from just outside the box high into the goal for our sixth. The goalkeeper was lying on the floor having just made a save, but it was a nice feeling anyway.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Bugs
A few months ago I conducted a most interesting experiment into the effect of vacuum cleaners on fruit flies. My shared flat in Erlangen had a plague of them due to some rotting onions, so I put a clean bag in the vacuum cleaner and sucked about 20 flies. I then checked and saw that all were dead except for two or three moving very slowly.
My flat in Bochum got some fruit flies this summer, and I did my best to kill them with a vacuum cleaner, but it was difficult to get them all, and it only needs two for them to restart their colony. I spotted a couple of spiders in the corners of the flat, and decided to leave them alive in the hope that they would join in with the fly-killing.
In hindsight this was a mistake, as cobwebs gather dust, and dusty cobwebs give an appearance of decay and neglect to a flat. Today I sucked up the cobwebs and a couple of spiders. I hope they survived: If there are any flies left alive in the dustbag, then they can finish them off.
My flat in Bochum got some fruit flies this summer, and I did my best to kill them with a vacuum cleaner, but it was difficult to get them all, and it only needs two for them to restart their colony. I spotted a couple of spiders in the corners of the flat, and decided to leave them alive in the hope that they would join in with the fly-killing.
In hindsight this was a mistake, as cobwebs gather dust, and dusty cobwebs give an appearance of decay and neglect to a flat. Today I sucked up the cobwebs and a couple of spiders. I hope they survived: If there are any flies left alive in the dustbag, then they can finish them off.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Taxi Zentrale 1 - Torpedo Entenhausen 1
"So why are you called Taxi Zentrale?"
"We drive taxis".
The game was about as good as the pre-match banter above, and would have ended goalless if it hadn't been for two goalkeeping mistakes. We gave the Taxi Zentrale the lead early on through a miskicked clearance, and their goalkeeper made a mess of a free kick in the last minute. Not too much happened in between.
"We drive taxis".
The game was about as good as the pre-match banter above, and would have ended goalless if it hadn't been for two goalkeeping mistakes. We gave the Taxi Zentrale the lead early on through a miskicked clearance, and their goalkeeper made a mess of a free kick in the last minute. Not too much happened in between.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Video Analysis
Monday's match of Torpedo Entenhausen has been recorded for posterity.
Watch the highlights by clicking here.
Torpedo Entenhausen are in the orange shirts, FC Porno Villa in black. It wasn't a great match, but you can see my Carlton Palmer style trapping of the ball (0:43), a header so bad that all my teammates and one of the opposition throw their heads into their hands in disbelief (5:50), and my point-blank range goal including a "running into the goalpost" celebration (6:00). I think the ball was already over the line from the original shot, and Amin had aleady run off to celebrate, but the whistle hadn't been blown so I'm claiming the goal.
The best bits don't involve me at all, though. At 4:30 the guy filming suggests that the Porno Villa midfield "retreat somewhat so that the goal kick doesn't go over them all". Of course, by the time he's said this it's too late. Next time a less intellectual "GET BACK!!!" might be more effective.
The top scene is right at the start of the video, as our striker, Mario, decides to give the ball to the opposition as a sign of friendship. Check out the double take from Andy, who was expecting the ball and stays rooted to the centre circle, before beginning to philosophise.
Watch the highlights by clicking here.
Torpedo Entenhausen are in the orange shirts, FC Porno Villa in black. It wasn't a great match, but you can see my Carlton Palmer style trapping of the ball (0:43), a header so bad that all my teammates and one of the opposition throw their heads into their hands in disbelief (5:50), and my point-blank range goal including a "running into the goalpost" celebration (6:00). I think the ball was already over the line from the original shot, and Amin had aleady run off to celebrate, but the whistle hadn't been blown so I'm claiming the goal.
The best bits don't involve me at all, though. At 4:30 the guy filming suggests that the Porno Villa midfield "retreat somewhat so that the goal kick doesn't go over them all". Of course, by the time he's said this it's too late. Next time a less intellectual "GET BACK!!!" might be more effective.
The top scene is right at the start of the video, as our striker, Mario, decides to give the ball to the opposition as a sign of friendship. Check out the double take from Andy, who was expecting the ball and stays rooted to the centre circle, before beginning to philosophise.
The Golden Spurtle
The World Porridge Making Championship has taken place (in Scotland, of course), and a Sassenach came third. A spurtle is a scottish stirring device, like a wooden spoon but more pointy.
As the winter draws in, I will try to eat more Porridge.
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
FC Pr0n0 Villa 1 - Torpedo Entenhausen 2
Porno Villa are new to the league, so we welcomed them with a good kicking, apparently. We picked up three yellow cards, of of which was for me, although I think it was more clumsiness than anything else. One of the other two yellow cards was for suggesting that the referee was in need of a new pair of glasses, so I don't know where all their injuries came from.
It wasn't a great game, but I scored the winning goal from point-blank range. Normally this is a cliche to say "somewhere very close to the goal", but the limit of point-blank range is quite easy to calculate.
The term comes from the days of cannons. The normal procedure was to estimate the range to the enemy, look up the correct angle of elevation in a table, point your cannon up in the sky, and kill them with a beautiful parabola. Alternatively, if you could already smell the garlic on the enemies breath, you just pointed it straight at them and fired quickish.
Taking the equation from the wikipedia article, a shot speed half of David Hirst's record shot speed (57 mph) and an allowable drop in trajectory of half the height of the goal (4 feet), then point-blank range becomes about 12 metres. This makes sense, when you think about it, as few people bother to adjust for gravity when taking a penalty kick (although maybe some overadjust), but it is common for a free-kick to be shot up and over a defensive wall and into the goal.
So technically, almost all people shot by guns are hit "at point-blank range". It is rare that the killer has to adjust for gravity, but in common usage the term has come to mean "from a distance at which you can't miss the target". So my goal yesterday, scored from a range of zero yards (it was already on the goalline) fulfilled both the original meaning and the newer one.
It wasn't a great game, but I scored the winning goal from point-blank range. Normally this is a cliche to say "somewhere very close to the goal", but the limit of point-blank range is quite easy to calculate.
The term comes from the days of cannons. The normal procedure was to estimate the range to the enemy, look up the correct angle of elevation in a table, point your cannon up in the sky, and kill them with a beautiful parabola. Alternatively, if you could already smell the garlic on the enemies breath, you just pointed it straight at them and fired quickish.
Taking the equation from the wikipedia article, a shot speed half of David Hirst's record shot speed (57 mph) and an allowable drop in trajectory of half the height of the goal (4 feet), then point-blank range becomes about 12 metres. This makes sense, when you think about it, as few people bother to adjust for gravity when taking a penalty kick (although maybe some overadjust), but it is common for a free-kick to be shot up and over a defensive wall and into the goal.
So technically, almost all people shot by guns are hit "at point-blank range". It is rare that the killer has to adjust for gravity, but in common usage the term has come to mean "from a distance at which you can't miss the target". So my goal yesterday, scored from a range of zero yards (it was already on the goalline) fulfilled both the original meaning and the newer one.
Saturday, October 06, 2007
PhD exams and Werner Heisenberg
Physicists can be divided into two big groups: experimentalists and theorists. The first lot (to which I belong) know what a vacuum pump is, the second lot write long equations.
Werner Heisenberg was a theoretician, and so good that he could even write short equations. He has a great (if true, I can't find any reliable source for it) epitaph, applying the inability to exactly locate a particle, as defined in his uncertainty principle, to his own body.
meaning "He's buried somewhere/anywhere round here". I will try to check this out the next time I'm in Munich. It sounds somehow too good to be true.
Anyway, before he died, and before he developed his nobel-prize winning quantum mechanics, he wrote a thesis titled "On the Stability and Turbulence of Fluid Flow" that concerned the flow of the River Isar through Munich. In Google Maps the flow looks distinctly turbulent in parts, but maybe it's changed since 1925.
Größere Kartenansicht
Well, having done whatever he'd done in the Isar (I can't imagine that he spent much time wading in it) and writing his thesis, Heisenberg had to pass an oral exam. He had four examiners: A theoretician (Arnold Sommerfeld, his PhD adviser), a mathematician, an astronomer and an experimentalist (Wilhelm Wien). Being a theoretican, Heisenberg knew little about experimental matters, and was torn apart in that part of the exam. The bad news for experimentalists is that the theoreticians have been seeking their revenge ever since.
My exam was pretty much a mirror image of Heisenberg's, but without the mathematician. I had a theoretician, an experimentalist (also my PhD advisor) and an astronomer asking the questions, and almost drowned in the theory section. I passed, but only just. This happens to everyone I've ever heard of.
My only suggestion to future experimentalists is to make a formal apology to the theoretician at the start of the exam, explaining your regret for Heisenberg's treatment. Say how cruel it was to confront such a brilliant mind with trivialities of technical equipment, and profess that great thinkers don't need to know how vacuum pumps work. Suggest that you abandon the exam, pick a grade out of a hat and crack open the champagne, drinking to a reconciliation in the world of physics.
Links
I lifted most of this post from this site on Heisenberg's career.
Arnold Sommerfeld is the unluckiest physicist of all time.
That theoretician may be the train that Gajo-Simpatico is fearing.
Werner Heisenberg was a theoretician, and so good that he could even write short equations. He has a great (if true, I can't find any reliable source for it) epitaph, applying the inability to exactly locate a particle, as defined in his uncertainty principle, to his own body.
Er liegt irgendwo hier
meaning "He's buried somewhere/anywhere round here". I will try to check this out the next time I'm in Munich. It sounds somehow too good to be true.
Anyway, before he died, and before he developed his nobel-prize winning quantum mechanics, he wrote a thesis titled "On the Stability and Turbulence of Fluid Flow" that concerned the flow of the River Isar through Munich. In Google Maps the flow looks distinctly turbulent in parts, but maybe it's changed since 1925.
Größere Kartenansicht
Well, having done whatever he'd done in the Isar (I can't imagine that he spent much time wading in it) and writing his thesis, Heisenberg had to pass an oral exam. He had four examiners: A theoretician (Arnold Sommerfeld, his PhD adviser), a mathematician, an astronomer and an experimentalist (Wilhelm Wien). Being a theoretican, Heisenberg knew little about experimental matters, and was torn apart in that part of the exam. The bad news for experimentalists is that the theoreticians have been seeking their revenge ever since.
My exam was pretty much a mirror image of Heisenberg's, but without the mathematician. I had a theoretician, an experimentalist (also my PhD advisor) and an astronomer asking the questions, and almost drowned in the theory section. I passed, but only just. This happens to everyone I've ever heard of.
My only suggestion to future experimentalists is to make a formal apology to the theoretician at the start of the exam, explaining your regret for Heisenberg's treatment. Say how cruel it was to confront such a brilliant mind with trivialities of technical equipment, and profess that great thinkers don't need to know how vacuum pumps work. Suggest that you abandon the exam, pick a grade out of a hat and crack open the champagne, drinking to a reconciliation in the world of physics.
Links
I lifted most of this post from this site on Heisenberg's career.
Arnold Sommerfeld is the unluckiest physicist of all time.
That theoretician may be the train that Gajo-Simpatico is fearing.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Dead Trousers 0 - Torpedo Entenhausen 9
Yes, believe your eyes, that is 9 (nine, 0b1001, 0o11) goals. Torpedo Entenhausen are a few matches into the Rückrunde, a typically German concept. German football leagues, from the Bundesliga down to Bochum's spare time league, are arranged so that each team plays all the other teams (the Hinrunde) and then plays them again in the same order, but at the other ground (the Rückrunde). So, because we played against the Dead Trousers at our ground in the sixth match of the season, we played the return fixture at their ground in the nineteenth match. If you are good at maths, you will have calculated that there are 14 teams in the league, so Hinrunde and Rückrunde consist of each 13 games, and over the season we play 26 matches.
This will all seem terribly obvious and boring to any German reader, but being English I find it most wonderful. In England, the fixtures are calculated by that mysterious entity, the fixtures computer. Nothing causes more paranoia than this dreaded calculating device, which makes sure that Chelsea always get away games in freezing Bolton after european ties and that sacked managers meet up with their old club exactly twice a season. People even get paranoid about non-existent computers.
There is some just cause for this dread, fear and misunderstanding of the fixtures computer. Take Sheffield Wednesday, for example. This season they will have played Hull City twice before the year is out, but will first face local rivals Sheffield United in January. They will then play them home and away within a month. Why? This computer seems to be an exercise in Chaos Theory. A single flower show, balloon fiesta, or gay pride march anywhere in the country can throw the whole system into imbalance and result in millions of people up and down the land going to somewhere completely different, and their team getting badly beaten by someone else instead, which brings me back to the match yesterday.
The first game (in the Hinrunde) ended 2-2, but we continued our strong Rückrunde form by winning by 9 goals to zero. Their goalkeeper was of the William Foulkes mould, and initially, despite our dominance, we struggled to beat him as he quickly closed the angles. By closing the angles I don't mean that he rushed out of goal (too much effort), I just mean that he turned to face you.
Martin, our stalwart supporter, suggested that we aimed for the bottom corners of the goal in an attempt to exploit his immobility. The scoreline suggests that this tactic worked in the end, and I scored too with an unchallenged run from midfield and a shot into the bottom left-hand corner from just outside the box.
This will all seem terribly obvious and boring to any German reader, but being English I find it most wonderful. In England, the fixtures are calculated by that mysterious entity, the fixtures computer. Nothing causes more paranoia than this dreaded calculating device, which makes sure that Chelsea always get away games in freezing Bolton after european ties and that sacked managers meet up with their old club exactly twice a season. People even get paranoid about non-existent computers.
The Rugby League does not have a fixtures computer, but, if it had, it would be one that does not like Widnes.
There is some just cause for this dread, fear and misunderstanding of the fixtures computer. Take Sheffield Wednesday, for example. This season they will have played Hull City twice before the year is out, but will first face local rivals Sheffield United in January. They will then play them home and away within a month. Why? This computer seems to be an exercise in Chaos Theory. A single flower show, balloon fiesta, or gay pride march anywhere in the country can throw the whole system into imbalance and result in millions of people up and down the land going to somewhere completely different, and their team getting badly beaten by someone else instead, which brings me back to the match yesterday.
The first game (in the Hinrunde) ended 2-2, but we continued our strong Rückrunde form by winning by 9 goals to zero. Their goalkeeper was of the William Foulkes mould, and initially, despite our dominance, we struggled to beat him as he quickly closed the angles. By closing the angles I don't mean that he rushed out of goal (too much effort), I just mean that he turned to face you.
Martin, our stalwart supporter, suggested that we aimed for the bottom corners of the goal in an attempt to exploit his immobility. The scoreline suggests that this tactic worked in the end, and I scored too with an unchallenged run from midfield and a shot into the bottom left-hand corner from just outside the box.
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