Perros Del Diablo have been Promoted

My football team has been promoted to the next division after devastating our current division. More specifically, we won 9 out of 10 for 27 points and had a goal difference of +37. So hopefully our next division will be more challenging.

Since there was actually no way we couldn't get promoted last night, I was allowed to come out of goal and play! It was friggen awesome! I only played out for 10 minutes, then went back into goal. Which was good because I could barely stand up after 10 minutes. I thought I was in ok shape with my regular leisurely runs around the common and my gym visits. I'm not. Not by a long shot.

Speaking of long shots - I did get a shot on goal. I pulled it wide and to the right, but what the heck! I also learned that I'm good at challenging the ball. I guess because I lack finesse I just run right in front of the guy and kick at the ball until something happens. Reviewing the videos Jamie took on our camera, I resemble more of a shuffling chimp than a proper footballer. The best videos are the ones where Jamie is talking "Nice!" or my favorite - "OH JOHN!!"

Team Photo (one of us used to play pro):


We then went to the pub (of course) to celebrate our promotion. We sat outside and enjoyed the unseasonably warm night air (45 degrees) and regaled each other with stories of how awesome we were. We were joined by some more friends and were having a nice relaxing evening. Then our bicycle wine merchants rolled up.

I call them the bicycle wine merchants because they rolled up on A (pronounced "AH" for those of you who don't even own A gun which would necessitate A gun rack) bicycle and proceeded to pull bottles of wine out from down their pants. They wanted 10 pounds a bottle. I thought, "What a bargain! I know guys who would pay 100 pounds for wine that touched your junk." I then stared at them until they left.

Of course, I wasn't enough of a threat to overcome the lure of the beautiful sirens at our table, so I gave in and started messing with them, a favorite Ramsburg family bar game. I was a plumber to them, and they called me Mario.

They really enjoyed chatting up the ladies, and told one of the guys on the team that his cooking was shit. Apparently he looked like a chef from the pizza joint next door. They were funny the first 3 times they rolled by, but the fourth was pushing it.

Here's a picture of them:


On a sadder note, our great friends Myke and Drew are moving back to the States next week. We're going to their leaving-do tomorrow night - it seems like it will be a great party. We're going to the Living Room just off of Regent Street - fancy! Now we know how everyone felt when we left NYC to come to this great city. It's an odd thing to have a hole in your heart that is barely plugged by knowing you'll always be friends. That and the stories, and Absinthe.

Catch you later.