Naomi Campbell IS the World Cup Trophy

Germany really lucked out in their World Cup win this year — the trophy they’ll take home looks an awful lot like super model Naomi Campbell! Well, just like the 24 carat gold plated Beats Pro headphone she’s wearing while dressed as the trophy, decked out in Tom Ford and Christian Louboutin.

Germany’s 23 players and their manager will take home the Beats by Dre headphones in honor of their win, you can get a similar pair here, or you can just enjoy Naomi Campbell GIFing out as shot by fashion photog Rankin below:




No World Cup No Cry

While everyone was freaking out over the Stanley Cup, I attended a super Rasta-vibe dinner and drinks situation at the famous Miss Lily’s. The Marley offspring had taken over the restaurant to showcase the Marley Apparel collection launch — featuring a soccer capsule — and constructed it into a Jamaican paradise, with food coming out of the kitchen by the second, and everyone’s cup overflowing with sangria. Anything Bob Marley you could think of covered the space from top to bottom, and his best songs pleasantly played in repeat. They were even handing out delicious Bob Marley-named juices made of pineapple and ginger. The Marley-sphere paired really well with the location and the food hit just the right spots to place you in a mini paradise that would make anyone forget about the World Cup, at least until you had to walk outside for a cigarette and hear the whole block screaming.

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Mundialista: Where to Flee (In Coach) After the World Cup

As a player, winning a World Cup for the first time makes you want to kiss the first Spanish TV reporter you see, especially if she’s your distracting girlfriend. Losing a World Cup, on the other hand, has a different effect—on the footballers, their home countries, and their fans. The French opened up Parliamentary investigations into their team’s spectacular loss and made the team return home in coach. The Brazilians tried to kill the players when they were coming off the plane after sending their normally pampered asses back home, also in coach. Maybe that’s the problem: these superstars are so used to being treated like royalty that flying coach is the ultimate punishment, whereas the North Korean penance of being forced to fly coach and work in the coal mines is probably a tad more effective. It’s a toss-up between that and Uday Hussein’s popular method of flogging losing players and making them bath in raw sewage. Somehow, I can’t picture Cristiano Ronaldo being forced to shower in shit as punishment for his terrible World Cup, though Nike probably wants to flush him down the toilet right about now. But for fans such as myself, there is no punishment greater than having to visit a World Cup smack-talking country when all you want to do is be on a beach somewhere. That’s why my first stop coming back from South Africa after Argentina exited the Cup was France. Sure enough, Paris as a whole acted as if the World Cup had never happened. This, and about 20 liters of wine had me feeling great.

So great, in fact, that I decided to push my luck and accept an invitation from some good Brazilian friends of mine to go hang out in Montauk for the weekend as soon as I arrived in the US. With dozens of Brazilians, no less (as well as BlackBook’s very own party gal Cayte Grieve, it turns out). Normally, any Argentina loss means you can’t set foot in Brazil for at least a few weeks, unless you are a complete masochist. Had Brazil won the World Cup instead of Spain, I would have banned myself from Brazil for about four years, till the next one (which happens to be in Brazil). And I have a lot of family and friends in Brazil. In fact, it’s one of my favorite places on Earth, but the sheer amount of chest-thumping would have been unbearable for this particular Argentine. Even my little 8-year-old cousins there would have been talking smack to me.

Luckily Brazil lost this time, a day before Argentina, so I gave peace a chance and Montauk a shot. Plus, it was all for a good cause: to support a Brazilian children’s charity at an event sponsored by a Brazilian hair product called Envix. My friend, the artist Damon Johnson, had even painted some soccer balls to auction off for the event, held at the muito chic Surf Lodge in Montauk. The morning of the event, I woke up to the news that Lionel Messi and his girlfriend were vacationing in plain sight, post World Cup, smack in the middle of Rio de Janeiro, strolling around the beach like nothing happened. Could it be? Had our respective defeats at the World Cup brought our two countries together, united in the face of footballing adversity? Would I be able to have calm, rational football discussions with my Brazilian friends and family regarding Maradona’s clear superiority to Pele, until the next World Cup? I think so. Or rather, I thought so, until I was driving back to New York after a couple of perfect beach days with two Brazilian girls in the back seat, stuck in traffic somewhere in Long Island, and I heard, “Nossa! Four goals, Fernando…we only lost by one. Coitadinho Maradona. At least we didn’t have to see him naked!” I refrained from driving into oncoming traffic, but I’m officially banning all contact with Brazilians for a couple weeks.

Photos by Hunter Muse

How to Make Soccer More Interesting to Americans, Everyone Else

When I was a little kid, I played in the local pee-wee basketball league. We were all so short, slow, and uncoordinated that scoring even an uncontested layup was a rarity. We won one game by a score of 2 – 0 in overtime. Bless my sainted mother, who cheered from the bleachers while bored out of her mind. Well, the soccer World Cup final was decided yesterday by half that score with an overtime victory by Spain over the Netherlands, and it was hardly more interesting than watching ten inept third graders in tube socks. Sure, I’m a crude American with no appreciation for soccer’s nuances, but I was joined in my living room by my long-suffering English soccer fanatic friend Steve, and we were both bored to tears by the relentlessly defensive game played by both sides. Apparently, it’s better to never score at all than to be scored on, a strategy that only intensifies as the game goes into overtime. We both agreed: Thank god we didn’t go to Nevada Smiths to watch this crud. But what can be done to make soccer more watchable? Well, we Yanks pioneered the use of the 24-second shot clock for basketball back in 1954, and it revolutionized the game. Maybe it’s time for a soccer shot clock as well.

I imagine that more than a few Europeans, South Americans, and Africans don’t think there’s anything wrong with the World’s Game, and if I have a problem with it, I can go jump in a fjord. I’d ask them, respectfully, if they’re being honest with themselves. Who can sincerely tell me that they find watching nearly two solid hours of a sporting event with bugger-all happening on the pitch interesting, regardless of the complexities of the defenses being deployed? Seriously dudes, it sucks, and the only thing that would have made yesterday’s final worse would have been if it ended in a shootout, as it did four years ago. No head-butt could mitigate the complete absence of satisfaction left in the wake of that train wreck. At least this year’s final was decided by a goal scored in competitive play. One sad, lonely little goal.

Soccer’s great, when it’s played by actual players, rather than professional risk managers who take every opportunity to hedge, dance, and dive, attacking only when the time is absolutely right. It’s not their fault. The game has simply evolved to the point where defense is favored over offense. There’s an imbalance. When that happens in a sport, you fix the sport, you don’t rationalize it by telling yourself this is what you deserve as a fan. That you’d appreciate it if only you were more sophisticated, so it’s best not to complain, lest you be branded an oaf.

Sorry, but having no real soccer tradition ourselves (other than every school kid in the nation playing it) we Americans are in a unique position to say the emperor has no clothes. The rest of the world will call us philistines regardless, so we’ve got nothing to lose by saying, World, you need to amp up the action in your sport.

So, a shot clock. The team with possession of the ball has to at least be setting up an attack after 30 seconds or so, otherwise the other team gets it. Of course, it might not work because teams rarely have possession of the ball for 30 consecutive seconds, but it gives them something to work toward. Always advance the ball, never back up, and lower the defenses on your own goal to do it. You get scored on, fine. Go get it back. Seriously, what else could be done to increase scoring, short of making the goal bigger?

That said, South Africa did a great job hosting the games, and the fireworks at the end were a nice touch. They filled the void left on the field.

Spain vs Netherlands: If It Were Based On Hotness

Yesterday, we reported on the survey that christened English World Cup player, Wayne Rooney, the ugliest man in the sport. Today, we decided to take this hot-or-not survey into our own hands. With Spain and the Netherlands prepping for their showdown on July 11th, we’ve put together a side-by-side comparison of the two teams, based on the most attractive player in each field position. The winner in our attractiveness contest will most likely win the World Cup. It all makes perfect statistical sense if you think about it.


Wholesome-looking defender Gerard Pique (#3) has played for Manchester United, Real Zaragoza and currently for Barcelona and is known for having a constant smile on the pitch and off. Speedy Gregory van der Wiel (#2) was blasted last year for skipping a traveling game with Amsterdam team Ajax and attending a Lil’ Wayne concert, and was caught smiling for the camera.



Playboy Fernando Torres (#9), nicknamed El Niño, was benched at the start of the Spain-Germany match, but still holds a place in the hearts of female fans and the Liverpool (his club team) paparazzi. Arsenal player Robin van Persie (#9) has delivered a less than expected World Cup performance, but still holds the torch for his coach, Bert van Marwijk, who recently commented, “I think he will show his best football in the coming match.”



Real Madrid goalkeeper Iker Casillas (#1) could be a stand-in for Orlando Bloom with his sweet baby face. Ajax goalkeeper, Maarten Stekelenburg (#1) is a little over 6′ 4″ (1m 94cm) and is an official stand in for legendary goalkeeper and fan favorite Edwin van der Sar.



Midfielder Cesc Fabregas (#10) was the youngest player of all time to make Arsenal’s first team. He’s also a top recruit for a number of post World Cup transfers. Swoon-worthy Real Madrid player Rafael van der Vaart (#23) competed in the 2001 FIFA World Youth Championship at the young age of 18.


image Valencia Forward, David Villa (#7) has shot five goals in World Cup matches thus far, while Bayern Munich forward Arjen Robben (#11) is behind in goals to top scorer Wesley Sneijder (who is tied with Villa at 5).



Successful Real Madrid coach, Vicente del Bosque won five La Liga titles as a player with 30 goals for Real. Bert Van Marwijk won a Dutch cup and UEFA Cup.



Mundialista: Larissa Riquelme’s World Cup Tits Outgrow Paraguay

The World Cup’s finest tits have outgrown their home country and are set to explode on the global stage. Volump-chous Paraguayan model Larissa Riquelme—whose chest went viral after pictures of her cheering on her team in an Asuncion, Paraguay square wound up online—today announced the end of phase one of her quest for global domination. The curvaceous Latina told reporters in Paraguay that she’d “reached the ceiling” domestically, and was taking her two-woman show on the road.

In case you missed it, Riquelme’s revealing celebrations initially came off as spontaneous acts of World Cup exuberance that somehow wound up online, but were actually (gasp!) meticulously executed acts of self promotion. Even the cell phone casually tucked into her cleavage had a purpose: she’s the face of some mobile carrier in Paraguay. To think she did all this with nothing but a skimpy t-shirt, a clever prop, y un par de gomas. And with those basic elements, without even leaving the international media backwater of Paraguay, she’s become the most clicked chick in the most popular event on the planet. Without even being there in person. Surely other more established celebu-sluts like Paris, Lindsay, Cheryl Cole, etc. can learn from Riquelme’s cunning Paraguayan hustle. She didn’t even need a sex tape, just a cell phone. That lady who got canned by Citibank for being too hot should go to work for her. But I digress, let’s take have a look at her Business Plan:

British Press Welcomes the Team Home with Bad Puns, Insults

Nobody does it like the British tabloids. After the English team lost to Germany 1-4 in the second round of the World Cup Sunday, the players have returned home to a less than hero’s welcome. The country’s tabloids are covering their homecoming with all the sympathy, warmth, and class they’re famous for. After the jump, some of our favorite headlines from the British press as Rooney and Co. leave South Africa, and their World Cup dreams, behind.

Are you Havana a laugh? ENGLAND’S football flops relax just hours after their humiliating World Cup exit—with beers and a CIGAR.

Cigars, drinks… you’d think they’d just won the World Cup! England’s flops are caught on camera just hours after Germany defeat.

The Egos Have Landed in Misery.

Fab flops should walk ashamed: THE inglorious retreat from Rustenburg ended at 6.20 yesterday morning at Heathrow.

SCOTS were in raptures on Sunday when GERMANY dumped England out of the World Cup.”

England team face final indignity as hotel cleaners steal their underwear.

Back home to face public anger: England’s flops and WAGs land in UK… but Capello refuses to fall on his £6m-a-year sword.

Mundialista: All the Good (Football) Songs

There’s an old Tom Lehrer song that goes, “Though he may have won all the battles, we had all the good songs.” Although at this World Cup it’s been difficult to hear fans singing over the incessant vuvuzelas, I was reminded of this important factor during Argentina’s win over Mexico the other day when some of the non-Argentine Argentina fans asked me what the songs we were singing meant. So for all the Bangladeshi, Chinese, and Yankee Messi fanatics, here are the lyrics, transcribed. Some of the tunes riff on classic Mexican songs like Cielito Lindo, others taunt the Mexican fans by referencing popular Mexican TV shows starring a fellow called Chespirito, or refer to the fact that Mexico’s time in South Africa is coming to an abrupt end. Another employs the classy anal-rape-as-sporting-victory metaphor, and yet another just talks unadulterated shit. Please turn off all pagers, cell phones, and vuvuzelas: the football taunts are after the jump.

Mexico Taunts

Tomala vos damela a mi, hoy no te salva, ni el Chapulin.

Ponelo al Chavo la puta que te pario… Ponelo al Chavo la puta que te pario…

Ay, ay, ay, ay, canta y no llores porque cantando se alegran cielito lindo los corazones

Saca el pasaje la puta que te pario Saca el pasaje la puta que te pario

Mira, mira, mira Sacale una foto Se vuelven al D.F. con el culo roto

Otra vez sera… Otra vez sera… Otra vez sera Mexicano…. Otra vez sera…

Mundialista: Dissing Ronaldo in Real Time on His Shiny New Website

Nike’s Portugal’s Cristiano Ronaldo launched a new website during the World Cup, as well as a dedicated Youtube channel, and poured tons of money into his campaign to get millions of 13-year-old Justin Bieber fans to friend him on Facebook. It’s all part of TSE Sports Marketing & Entertainment and Nike’s massive push to force this mediocre marketing product upon a naive US market à la David Beckham. But now that Spain closed the chapter in the latest pathetic Ronaldo showing, exposing him for the middling overhyped product that he is, it’s time for football fans the world over to gleefully diss Ronaldo on his new site, which already started happening during the Spain v. Portugal game. But first, a message from CR himself.

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