rewatching lost – season 2

***SPOILER ALERT…MY POSTS ON LOST ARE WRITTEN ON THE ASSUMPTION THAT THE READER IS FULLY UP TO DATE WITH THE STORY. IF YOU INTEND TO CATCHUP I ADVISE YOU WAIT UNTIL YOU HAVE BEFORE YOU READ ON!!!***

At the end of Lost Season 1 (find my re-cap here), we were left to assume this was a story about a group of people who were stranded on a tropical island, each with their own fascinating back story. The island was a little strange, and they had found this mysterious “hatch”, into which they were curiously peering as we were left to wait for Season 2.

Now, having seen Season 5, we not only know what was down inside the hatch, we have even witnessed what went on when it was originally being constructed.

I reckon if pushed, although my favourite episodes don’t fall in Season 2, overall it has to be my favourite series. In many ways it spelled out exactly what the writers were going for with the overall project, and that it had much more to it thatn what I described in the opening paragraph.

With all of us wondering what Jack & John could see down the hatch, we first got to meet some guy who seemed to like working out on an exercise bike and drinking power shakes. Turns out we WERE seeing what was down the hatch, and it was none other than Scotsman Desmond Hume.

So here’s a new character, and how fascinating it was that he believed he had to push a button every 108 minutes to save the world.

But then he ran off into the jungle.

What was left was a fascinating power struggle between Jack and John, and we also saw how the guys who set off on the raft fared, as they met the people who at first appeared to be “The Others”, but actually turned out to be yet more survivors from Oceanic 815.

For the record, my favourite episode from this season was number 7, “The Other 48 Days”, and I go into more detail about it here.

Then, we meet Henry Gale. Is he an “other” or isn’t he? Both the writers and Ben Emerson played it beautifully for it really could have gone either way. Reminded me of Kevin Spacey in K-Pax.

Of course it turned out that it was, and we had actually been introduced to one of the stories biggest characters halfway through the second season, Benjamin Linus. It’s hard to imagine a part of the story without him now, though I suppose when re-watching it you can see his influence on the narrative several times.

The story carries on with several sub-plots, not to mention a few deaths of major characters. In keeping with the show’s tradition of spectacular finales, Desmond comes back and we get his first back story, we end up seeing the hatch imploded thanks to John Locke, who’s faith in the necessity to push the button is shattered when he and Mr Eko discover another hatch, The Pearl.

And with this series of hatches we get a glimpse of yet another layer to the story, The Dharma Initiative. At this stage, however, we rightly form the impression that there is even more to come, and having discovered since all that happened after the Swan was destroyed, not to mention all that happened just before it was built, we are proven to be right.

Re-watching this particular season didn’t really give me any more insight into the overall story, it just gave me a brush up so that when I go back over Season 5 again later in this project, I’ll be more clear as to what the writers were doing overall.

I’ll be honest though…watching John Locke’s journey throughout these episodes makes me wonder about my theory that he was possessed by the smoke monster, but since we still don’t fully understand how that works, it remains a distinct possibility.

And so I must set off with the task of beginning Season 3, and I have to admit this is a really good way to fill the gap between Seasons 5 and 6 if you’re not doing it I seriously recommend that you catch up, the schedule can be found here.

NAMASTE!

Technorati Tags: paganolost

spurs-2 birmingham-1

CARR BACKFIRES

Up until yesterday, former Irish international Stephen Carr’s greatest memory at White Hart Lane surely had to be his screamer against Manchester United in 1999 to put the icing on our 3-1 victory that day.

Now, I think he’ll remember this ground for a different reason.

As crazy as I am about Spurs, I have to hold my hand up and admit that Birmingham definitely deserved something from this game. They came with their classic “we want to finish anywhere in the Top 17 of the Premiership” 4-5-1 formation, they rode their luck, and as the home side got more and more frustrated, even created a few chances that could have pinched it.

Not that we couldn’t have won this ten times over by taking our chances, though it’s hard to knock Defoe for being selfish more than once since that’s exactly what you want a player like him to be…

And that’s what scary about my Spurs so far this season. Four wins out of four in the Premiership, and we can only get better!

Like I’ve said before, we need one of the King/Dawson/Woodgate trio to return from injury to regularly accompany the impressive new signing Bassong. We also have defensive shortcomings on both flanks, particularly on the right as neither Corluka nor Hutton have bathed themselves in glory so far this season (I’m telling you Harry…give the boy Naughton a start!!!)

And up front, although Modrić’s broken leg is a blow, it’s one this squad can handle I feel, since now Keane can fall into that slot and Peter Crouch, who looked virtually unmarkable at set pieces after he came on and thoroughly deserved his first Premiership goal for us, is well used to partnering Defoe up front.

Then a mixup between Hutton (who after coming on had more than one abusive comment slung at him by yours truly) and Cudicini handed the equaliser to Lee Bowyer, (who must have been glad Woodgate wasn’t playing lest the press may be reminded of what happened in 2001) and all Alex McCleish’s men had to do was play as they had done and come away with a respectable point.

Enter Stephen Carr. All he had to do was control the ball and play it anywhere forward and what does he do, he falls over. Now to be fair to my Spurs, it was WAY over at the touchline near the halfway and we had a lot to do…not sure if it was great vision or good fortune by Pavlyuchenko but his pass managed to find Lennon who once again showed an ability to cut inside and score that must impress Fabio Capello no end.

So now it’s time for an international break and afterwards, we have a couple of easy matches against Man United and Chelsea. No problem for my unbeaten Spurs!!!

COME ON YOU SPURS

Technorati Tags: paganosports,Tottenham Hotspur

1000 words on…money and stuff

Written: December 8, 2004 (except lyrics)

I was always one to tune out when the Sky News business report came on. What really annoyed me was the way the newscasters referred to the Financial Times Share Index as “Footsie”. I’m sorry, but in my humble opinion even a mild sexual reference can’t jazz up an update on the business world!

One day, however, in the mid 90s, my attention was captured, so much so that I turned the channel back on again an hour later to make sure that I had not been mistaken in what I had heard. I may well be wrong in the actual figures I am about to relate, but there is no doubt that the company they were on about was Guinness, so I guess that was the first thing to make me prick up my ears!

The lead story in the bulletin was all about the world famous Dublin-based brewery’s announcement of its yearly profits, and for argument’s sake let’s say the figure was £500million sterling. To my amazement, the reporter proceeded to list possible reasons for the company’s failures in the preceding 12-month period; among them were the typical things like rising insurance costs, interest rates, change in “market behaviour”; the same old chestnuts.

But wait a minute; didn’t he say that the millions mentioned were profits and not losses? Yes he had, for the figure was still present on the TV screen, in the form of the usual quirky colourful diagram. The reason it was considered a disappointment, apparently, was that the previous year’s returns had been as much SIX hundred million, so officially their “profits were down”. Well boo BLOODY hoo!

I can hear economists’ patronizing tones screaming into my ear as I type. “Ah, you don’t seem to realize successful businesses must sustain growth to survive in today’s ever-changing marketplace!”

Maybe I only studied Economics as far as First Year university level, but I still think I learned enough to know about the whole growth thing. By the same token, however, I also know what is meant by “profit”, and when a group of people consider creating an amount of wealth greater than that of several actual countries a failure, it is surely the sign of a world gone absolutely barking mad.

I couldn’t let a book on my life to date go by without including my pigeon story, and I feel this is the appropriate chapter in which to do so. It happened one day when I was in my room in our house in the Dublin suburb of Blackrock. My grandmother would always make a point of saving all leftovers from dinner so she could throw them into the back garden for the various birds, cats and even occasional foxes that would pay a visit.

On this particular day the grass was covered in breadcrumbs from end to end. I was peering out my window, most likely pondering some crucial adolescent issue that was occupying my mind at the time. The space was empty until a lone pigeon flew down from a nearby tree, and began happily pecking away at the feast. He was soon joined at the opposite end of the grounds by a similar feathered creature.

My daydream was only broken when the first pigeon stopped feeding, lowered its head, and charged towards the second, forcing it up to the tree. When it tried to return back over the other side, it was chased off again. This went on for a good fifteen minutes until a cat appeared, causing both to flee for good. All this time, neither pigeon could have consumed more than a mouthful of crumbs.

I won’t insult your intelligence by explaining what represents what in relation to the way we handle money and resources. Of course I have to include myself in this judgement. As I type this on my laptop when I also have a Palm Pilot and various other pricey luxuries, I am more than aware that I am closer to the first pigeon than the second.

There is only one rule of thumb you need to remember to grasp the goings on in the greedy world of corporate finance. Wherever there is a demand, there will ALWAYS be a supply, not vice versa. This is why governments can’t legislate fast enough to keep up with multinationals’ mischief. I guess all I can hope for is that there is a huge demand for this book so I can make pots of loot for myself…

MONEY’S GOT ME (© JL Pagano 1991)

 

Money’s got me…callin on my cellphone
…offerin a big loan
…repossessin your home

Money’s got me…maximizing profit
…pourin out the bullshit
…so I can get more of it

If you give me a whole lotta money, I wanna invest it
If it don’t make a profit I ain’t interested
When you know how it comes so easily
Cos money’s got me

If you ask me how I’m feeling I’ll tell you “Fine!”
Cos I just bought it for a mil and sold it for nine
I’ll buy you lunch but it sure as hell won’t be free
Cos money’s got me

Money’s got me…runnin in the rat race
…feedin up my fat face
…stinkin up the whole place

Money’s got me…always on the attack
…climbin over your back
…lookin alright Jack

So take your Third World countries, don’t let em burn!
Cos you can sell em all off as a going concern!
I’d let the whole world starve cos it’s plain to see
That money’s got me

I pay half of my men to kiss my butt
I pay the other half just to cover it up
I got no time for morality
Cos money’s got me

I go loopy…For the rupee
I go insane…For the yen
Well the stock exchange…It gets me deranged
I find speculating…So stimulating

Money’s got me…callin on my cellphone
…offerin a big loan
…lookin after my own

Money’s got me…
…and it’s got you too

 

doncaster-1 spurs-5

DON & DUSTED

So it’s my 3-year anniversary yesterday, right?

I plan a nice surprise for the missus, on top of the nice card and flowers that greeted her at the breakfast table in the am, that is.

At 6:30pm, her brother arrives as planned to babysit so we could go into town for a few drinks and a nice meal.  As we finished our final cocktail in Break For The Border (went there for a laugh) before heading to the Indian restaurant for our booking, her phone rang.

It was the brother.  The little tyke hadn’t stopped screaming since we had left and he was REALLY sorry, but could we please come home.

We weren’t as worried as most parents would be, since every and I mean EVERY single evening he had been fine around that time, and the odds really were in favour of it being a minor problem.

True enough, when we did get home, there wasn’t a sound out of the child, and he even afforded us a cheeky grin when he saw us.  The brother-in-law was understandably mortified, but naturally we forgave him for erring on the side of caution.

What does all this have to do with the match, I hear you cry?

Well after we ordered an Indian takeaway and everything had been consumed and the evening’s events rehashed and laughed at, I suddenly remembered my Spurs had been playing.  Not like me, that!  I’m normally checking my phone when out to see has there been any updates (though forgetting this time was no harm given the occasion).

So on the net I go and I discover that for the second Wednesday in a row, we’ve won 5-1 away from home.

Nice to see Pav & Crouch make the score sheet, and for dos Santos and most of the other fringe players to get a run.

All I hope for now is that Harry at least rewards one player with a starting role at the weekend.  For me it would be Kyle Naughton at full-back, but that would be going on pre-season form since I didn’t see him last night.  Like I’ve said before, there’s no point in having such a large squad if you’re going to insist on the same starting XI week-in, week-out.

So when all was said and done, I saved a few bob on the meal WITHOUT losing brownie points with the missus, AND Spurs won.  What more could you ask for, right?

COME ON YOU SPURS

Technorati Tags: paganosports,Tottenham Hotspur,Harry Redknapp,Carling Cup

wet spam-1 spurs-2

FANTASY LAND

“Spurs better than 1961 double-winning side”. “Spurs to break up the Top Four”. “Spurs to win the Champions League”.

Goddam, steady on, you tabloid headline-writers!!!

That all may be pure fantasy, but at least my fantasy TEAM is doing well out of Spurs’ early-season form…both scorers in their 2-1 win at Upton Park were also starters for Pagano Hotspur FC…

To the match itself, sorry Liverpool fans, but this was the toughest of our three wins so far. If anything the three points were gifted to us. It was a very even contest that needed something special to break the deadlock until Carlton Cole’s wonder-strike did just that to put the home side in front.

How quickly, though, a hero can turn to zero. Minutes later Cole played an inexplicable pass towards his own penalty area to the last man on the park you’d want to give it away to, the in-form Jermaine Defoe, who duly dispatched the equaliser home.

That lifted our heads, and from then on you could always see the winner coming. And what a finish it was from Aaron Lennon, whose goal will strike fear into leftbacks up and down the country. They must be thinking “Damn-even if I stop him from going out wide, he can do THAT???!!!”

Again I think Spurs can play even better, and hopefully Harry Redknapp has a mind to utilise the strong squad he now has, if not even improve it. ESPN displayed an entire team of players not featured in yesterday’s starting lineup who, when all fit, could do almost if not just as well as the XI who took the spoils on the day.

Personally, I’d play Corluka at Doncaster during the week and give the boy Naughton a start at fullback against Birmingham – the Croatian was a few yards off the pace yesterday; what’s the point having a squad like that if you’re not going to use it? Also Modric really, really, really needs a goal, and once that happens, look out Premiership because he could well become unstoppable.

OK – hang on, my team are top of the Premiership and I’m finding ways for them to play even better. This isn’t just a fantasy, this is a dream I should be waking up from any second now, right?

COME ON YOU SPURS

Technorati Tags: paganosports,Tottenham Hotspur,Harry Redknapp,Jermaine Defoe,Premiership,Aaron Lennon

1000 words on…the airport incident

Some people don’t feel comfortable reading stories that are too personal in nature, so for this chapter of my “autobiography” I have chosen to give you the opportunity to opt out in case you fall into that category.  Personally though, I have no problem with you reading it (that’s why I use the phrase “warts n all”) so if you’re still interested to learn about The Airport Incident, feel free to follow this link…

http://jplsdiary.blogspot.com/2005/07/stories-worth-thousand-words-27.html

Next week : 1000 words on…money and stuff

between two stools

Today would have been my late Grandfather’s 97th birthday , so I’d like to re-publish this story I wrote back in 2005.

August could very well be a tough month for me as it is coming up to a year since my grandfather, who regular readers will know reared me as his son, passed away.

I know for a fact he wouldn’t mind my telling this story in an attempt to cheer myself up.

During his time in permanent residence at the Royal Hospital Donnybrook, visiting him was always a traumatic experience, but it was made even more so when I’d bring my grandmother with me. She always blamed herself for his being there, even though she could hardly look after him herself on her own being well into her nineties herself.

This one particular day I had her in her newly-acquired wheelchair and I was pushing her into his ward. As we passed the nurses’ station, she was warmly greeted by all the staff. Since my grandmother has retained her American accent, they would always treat her as if she was some kind of ageing movie star, which of course she totally lapped up.

Having worked in a hospital herself in her day, she was never exactly shy about asking the staff for specific information which most would avoid. This day was no exception. With me smiling nervously at all before us, she instantly came out with the question;

“Has Joe been moving his bowels regularly?”

To which of course I replied,

“Grandma, haven’t you ever heard of small talk?”

Everyone laughed, and the head nurse managed to tactfully answer my grandmother’s question.

Then, out of the blue, with me already extremely anxious to get moving to his bedside behind the sanctuary of his surrounding curtain, one of the Filipino nurses chipped in with this:

“Oh, that reminds me! Did I ever show you the stool your husband made, Mrs Lee?”

If ever there was a sentence that made “small talk” into “no talk”, that was it.

Amazed by our communal silence, the nurse continued.

“No, really, you have to see it, it’s very nice! I have it over here, just under the desk!”

And as all my awkward nightmares seemed to be coming together at once, off she went to the desk and reached in underneath it.

I stood there behind my grandmother’s wheelchair like a deer caught in the headlights.

In my head, I was desperately trying to think of something, ANYTHING polite to say about whatever this strange lady was about to produce from below the desk.

And with that, she took it out.

My line of sight nervously travelled from her smiling face…

to her shoulder…

to her arm…

to her forearm…

to her hand…

to the wooden stool my grandfather had “made” in the hospital’s woodwork shop.

Our collective silence continued as the nature of the double entendre sunk in.

Luckily one of the nurses was able to break it with her thick Dublin accent…

“Jaysis, luv, I didn’t know WHA yiz were gonna pull outta der!!!”

As we all guffawed, the Filipino nurse stood there going “What’s so funny?” as she was holding the stool, which of course made us guffaw even more.

And so my grandmother and I were left with a funny story to remember our difficult hospital visits by.

RIP, Grandpa.

Click here for a full list of the "Lifeslice" stories

hull-1 spurs-5

FIRST THINGS FIRST

My apologies for doing my third sports, indeed soccer, indeed Spurs post in a row. I do like to vary things as much as a can.

Ah, scratch that last remark. I’m not a bit sorry. We're TOP O’ THE LEAGUE BABY!!!!

I saw the whole match, and I have to say, Harry’s boys can only get better. The only thing that kept Hull in it was our weakness at the back. Put any one from King, Woodgate or Dawson into the centre and scoot Corluka back to right full and I’m tellin ya, this team looks pretty awesome!

Even Robbie Keane impressed me, albeit eventually. I was annoyed at first that he retained his spot, but once the game got going I could see how important his role was, playing as virtually a fifth midfielder and with Phil Brown not countering, we were all over his 4-4-2 formation like a cheap suit from the off, forging an early 2-0 lead.

Then Brown copped on, and stuck on Geovanni. They came back into it a bit, especially with Stephen “Frodo” Hunt causing the hapless Alan Hutton problems down the left, and when they pulled one back, I started to worry.

But I needn’t have. Twas a mere glitch. And even Gomes playing the role of Hyde rather than Jeckyll didn’t hold us back.

I was delighted that Defoe got his hat-trick, and not just because he’s in my fantasy team. You could tell by his body language how much the third goal would mean to him, and boy, didn’t he do it in style.

My personal favourite score was the second, when Palacios got his first goal in English football after a sweeping move that started outside our own penalty area.

So bring on Wet Spam next Sunday. I’ll be kinda busy watching my baby boy get Christened while it’s on, but hopefully it will make for happy sky plus viewing later on in the day…

Technorati Tags: paganosports,tottenham Hotspur,harry Redknapp,Premiership

spurs-2 liverpool-1

EASE-Y DOES IT

“I thought he used his body to ease him off the ball”

Vintage Harry spin, that!

Now I’ll always celebrate a victory over the Reds that little bit more than most Spurs fans (bitterness going back to the 80s) but yesterday’s result was even more satisfying that usual.

Just over a year ago, we had one of our star players poached from us by a bigger club with Champions League ambitions, and it threw our plans for the new campaign into disarray as we struggled to replace him. At White Hart Lane, the tables were turned as the Reds clearly missed the creativity of new Galactico Xabi Alonso.

This was evident from early on, as a long ball from Carragher had our centre-halves struggling to clear. I feared it would be a long afternoon, but the visitors were unable to make the most from this weakness as gradually my Spurs placed a stranglehold on the midfield, plus Torres was hog-tied by the back four throughout.

We all know Assou-Ekottu’s strike was special, we all know Bassong’s headed winner was as deserved as it was well executed.

But let’s not underestimate the contribution of Luka Modric, shall we. He played some phenomenal touches, and what’s more, I reckon he was only showing half of what he can actually do because he was confined to a role on the left. His sidefooted cross which gave Robbie a point blank header to squander was world class.

On the subject of Robbie, I feel my opinion that he should not have started was justified. He played his best football when coming deep, and we had enough players already to play deep. We were a bit light up front it has to be said, and the fact that both goals came from defenders prove this point.

Still, it’s hard to find fault with a result like this, and with time left to strengthen the squad further before the window closes, if Harry can get these lads playing like this week in week out, things will be looking mighty fine down the Lane!

Technorati Tags: paganosports,Tottenham Hotspur,Harry Redknapp,Liverpool FC

spurs season preview 2009/10

 

And here we are yet again, at the dawn of a new Premiership season.

This will be the first full football year since I’ve been a regular twitter-er…and it has been interesting to see the opinions of people who DON’T care so much for the beautiful game.  “Oh no, the boring football has started again” or “Time for the Poofterball boys to do their thing again!” have been common tweets over the past week!

Having said that, there are a lot more who embrace the sport, not unlike myself, much like it’s a religion to be savoured and worshipped.  For us, this weekend is like Easter, as the Premiership rises from the dead with a whole new set of possibilities for every team.

However questionable my judgement may have been all those years ago, I chose Spurs as my team, and my team they must remain forever more.  And so I must contemplate what lies in store for Harry Redknapp and his flock for the years ahead.

Up until 2005, Spurs had a long, barren spell during which any fan who knew anything about the game would have been happy with European qualification each season.  Then came 3 mini-glory years which yielded two successive fifth-placed finishes and a Carling Cup success.

So when last season kicked off, with Juande Ramos, many people’s tip to be the next Mourinho, at the helm at White Hart Lane, there were few that doubted that of all the teams outside the “Top 4”, we were most likely to crack it.

Eight games into the season, Spurs were like an American electrical plug – they only had two points.  And bottom of the Premiership to boot.  And Juande was quite rightly shown the door, though he probably had to be actually told in Spanish before he knew to do so.

And then came Harry.

Whatever happens during the rest of his reign, Redknapp will always be remember by us Yids as the man who instantly turned the club around, with a 2-0 win against Bolton followed by an incredible 4-4 draw at the Haemorrhoids Stadium which was as good as a win given the opponents AND the fact we were 4-2 down.

Though we still had a rocky patch or two over the season, Harry made it perfectly clear that Premiership survival was his number one priority, and even though we reached another Carling Cup final and progressed to the latter stages of the UEFA Cup, the January transfer window deals were done with only the league matches in mind, and weakened sides were fielded in the Cups.

It kind of annoyed me at the time, but only because it was a risk, and the only way to justify it was to actually climb up the table into the top half and you know what, that’s exactly what we did and finished a whisker away from getting into Europe anyway.  And to those of us Spurs fans who wonder if we should be grateful to Harry for his achievements, we should just look at how Newcastle are getting on right now!!!

So what of this new season that’s upon us.  What are our expectations?  Spurs have been very quiet in the  transfer market, with the only notable additions being Peter Crouch, Sebastien Bassong and Kyle Naughton.  Either the belts are being tightened, or they’re relying on youth coming through the system, or maybe a bit of both.

Then again, we did add quite a few players in the last window, with many former players returning to the Lane, including of course strikers Jermaine Defoe and Robbie Keane.

Having seen a couple of the pre-season games it seems Harry has them all playing the way he wants, so I can’t see why this season can’t be a good one for his charges.

Of course, the fixture computer didn’t do us any favours, pitting us against last season’s runners-up Liverpool on the opening day.  I wonder if someone told Robbie this time last year that in 12 months he’d be playing AGAINST the reds for the second Premiership match in a row, he’d have laughed in their face!

Anyway…now to what I’d consider to be my ideal Spurs formation.  It’s a real headache up front.  Keane is meant to be the captain, but with two international goals during the week, Defoe is easily the man in form.  And if you have him, you may as well partner him with Crouch, re-uniting a duo that did so well for Harry at Pompey.

So here’s how I’d pick the team for White Hart Lane this afternoon…

Gomes

Naughton     Bassong     King (c)     Assou-Ekottu

Lennon     Huddlestone     Palacios     Modric

Defoe     Crouch

I’d have THudd and Palacios sitting back with Modric and Lennon having free reign to do pretty much whatever they wanted to get the ball to the front two.

Clearly Harry will have his own thoughts, but all I want from this team in the coming campaign is to get into Europe for next season.  It’s extremely do-able given the squad we have, though maybe one left-sided midfielder is needed, plus the gaffer needs to keep the present squad happy, with some like Roman Pavlyuchenko rumoured to be unsettled.

And course all this optimism will be put to the test at 4pm today as we kick-off against Fernando Torres and co…that’s exactly what makes the game so entertaining, isn’t it???  Bring it on!!!  My prediction, 2-1 to my boys.  Crouch and Defoe for us, Kuyt for them.

Technorati Tags: paganosports,Tottenham Hotspur,Harry Redknapp

1000 words on…my retail career

Chapter 26 (of 50) : Written November 8, 2004

It would have been February 1997. My written statement of the events of a few nights before clutched in my hand, I managed nervous smiles to all the staff members as I made my way up the staircase in Donnelly Sport’s HQ on O’Connell St, Dublin. Bill Dobson, the Operations Manager who had summonsed me, was at the top of the stairs, and stoically led me into a private office, along with Katrina O’Sullivan from HR and Managing Director Pat Macken’s PA, whose name I think was Sarah. She was supposedly there as “my witness”.

What proceeded was a kangaroo court whereby Mr Dobson turned my account of the story into a means by which I could be fired from the company. I vividly remember the moment when he mentioned the word “terminated”. I could not have felt lower. Well that’s not quite true. My wife’s initial reaction to the news of “Oh my God what am I going to tell the people I work with?” managed to knock me down a few more pegs.

This is not meant to be a medium whereby I protest my innocence. Suffice to say that a subsequent legal challenge under the Unfair Dismissals Act proved successful to the tune of an amount which more than made up for my loss of earnings between then and the start of my new job for their principal competitor.

The simple fact of the matter is that had my performance as a retail manager in the Donnelly Sports chain had been satisfactory, I would not have found myself in that position. And by performance I mean the political ball game which needed to be played to advance within any organization. I was absolutely awful at it. I was neutered by desires not to be seen kissing people’s arses, and also not to be seen looking for kisses sent in my posterior’s direction. I just got on with my job and tried to be fair.

All this seemed a long way away from my Psychology degree which I had picked up 6 years earlier. Most would be thinking of how they would make the most of a having achieved a 2.1 honours grade, but not me, I was planning to get hitched and set off around the world. I can honestly say that it wasn’t just a case of me thinking career choices was something for the future, it was something I did not think about at all.

When we arrived in San Francisco shortly after our wedding day, it was my love of all things sporting that sent me into Copeland’s Sports on 5th and Market in search of a job. When I left a year later, I was told that I was a good candidate for a trainee management position, and this sounded attractive to me. The next job in Hermans in Boston was more of the same, really, and once MyX fell pregnant with our first child our thoughts were directed at returning home.

And so my American experience was to stand me in good stead for my interviews for Donnelly Sports in May of ’94. The sporting goods industry was relatively young at the time, and Pat Macken had a clear vision as to where to go with his chain. I started in their branch in the Ilac Centre and again was quick to catch the eye of my superiors, so much so that I was bumped up to Assistant Manager of Grafton Street before long.

It was here my fortunes started to decline. The staff of the company, especially those in Grafton Street, were, shall we say, fond of the nightlife. Desperate to fit in, I fell between the two stools of bonding with my work colleagues and supporting my young family. I never knew where I was going, and my work suffered. I was dumped over to Assistant of a smaller branch not far away, a kick up the arse which led to a good recovery and resulted in my taking over as manager in my own right.

And so I was elevated to the next level, and I was expected to “play the game”. Meanwhile I was also expected to stay at home more, as our second child had now been born. Looking back it is hard to imagine how I could have managed both easily. Few of my peers had young kids. It wasn’t the done thing. I was torn between my two lives and spent most of my time putting out fires from one to the other. It did not take Bill Dobson long to spot this when he came along. His job was to turf out the weeds, and I was one of them. His own tenure as the company’s hatchet-man lasted just six months.

The competitor gig was fine while it lasted; I shifted from store to store until being given my own shop on the northside. This would have been perfect if only I could drive. Instead the hours I needed to put in there were exacerbated by the time I spent getting two buses to and from the place. It was while I was here that my marriage failed, though the job was only a bit player. Having moved out of home, I left the company of my own accord as I felt I had to start afresh.

Neither of my next two jobs, one in a gas fire showroom and another in a smaller sports chain, inspired me as anything worth taking through to retirement. As of now I’m still not sure if my inheritance from my grandmother’s cousin was a blessing or a curse, but the result is I am here today with a poor CV and little certainty as to what the future holds. Officially I am my grandmother’s carer and a part-time father, but I fear posterity will choose not to praise me for these achievements. An iron will need to be pulled from the fire pretty soon, that’s for sure.

© JL Pagano 2004

PS : In case anyone reading this knows both me and the real company in question, I wish to point out that it is under new management these days and would by no means be associated with the behaviour of those in charge during my time in their employment. My behaviour, on the other hand, hasn't changed so much.

NEXT, #27 : 1000 WORDS ON…THE AIRPORT INCIDENT

rep of ireland-0 australia-3

DON’T MAKE A MOUNTAIN OUT OF A CAHILL

As uncomfortable as that final score may make Irish fans feel, this one can see silver linings all over the place.

And I don’t just mean the fact I’m happy Robbie Keane made it through the 90 minutes and should be ok to play for my Spurs next Sunday…

Remember this WAS a friendly, and before a competitive ball was kicked for most of the players in the new season. Look what happened to Scotland who went straight into a qualifier! The whole reason we play these matches is to iron out the summer kinks.

And kinks there were, surprisingly for a Trapattoni XI in the back four. Even though St Leger Ledger (sp courtesy G Mulvenna) plays in the Championship, all four of our defenders PLUS Messrs Gibson and Whelan should be more than aware of the threat of Everton’s Tim Cahill, and what put this game out of reach was that not once but twice he went unmarked without the ball and unchallenged with it and he made us pay both times.

Nothing to be said or done about the late third, except that maybe he should have been closed down quicker, but it was one of those perfect strikes that few keepers could reach.

So hopefully Trap has enough clout to make sure the boys learn from this experience, and not to make the same mistakes against the Cypriots, when surely nothing less than three points will do, so a solid display at the back will be crucial.

I’d like to remind you of a time we WON a friendly 3-0, against Sweden no less. It was a certain Steve Staunton’s first game in charge if memory serves. I also seem to recall what happened when Stan brought us to Cyprus for a qualifier. Between him and Trap, who would you rather have at the helm in Nicosia on September 5? Yeah, thought so.

Let’s face it – the Irish team has been reeling since McCarthy left (some would say since the Battle of Saipan). Kerr and Staunton, thanks to the nutjob blazers who appointed them, took us to depths we never imagined since Italia90. Now we have a boss who has taken a squad not as good as the one Charlton had and given them an incredible chance of qualifying for South Africa.

What say we give him our backing for now and stop moaning about Andy “Who Ate All The Pies?” Reid and Stephen “I’ll play when I feel like it” Ireland?

One last silver lining…whatever about the suitability for the beautiful game at Croke Park, it certainly doesn’t seem right for the home of Munster rugby…they expect their Number 10’s to put the ball out of touch more often than not, though Robbie Keane did actually do that once when an Aussie got injured…

Technorati Tags: paganosports,Geovanni Trapattoni,Republic of Ireland,Robbie Keane,FIFA World Cup 2010

get with the programme!!!

Now I may be the only person on this island who believes this, but as far as I’m concerned there’s only one political document that’s more important to the people of Ireland than its Programme For Government, and that’s The Constitution.

In a country that more often than not has a coalition government, the PFG gives us an opportunity to see what exactly they plan to do in a particular term, plus we have something to hold them to once they’re seeking re-election.

Not so this time it seems. Sure, Bertie Ahern, Trevor Sargent and Mary Harney all signed one after the last election, but in each case either the leader has gone or the party has, and what’s more, we’re supposed to accept that these are now “challenging and unprecedented times” so the whole thing is null and void anyway.

Then came the local elections, and the government parties took a sound thrashing. Supposedly these PFG’s are meant to derive from a mandate, and The Greens in their desperation were quick to make noises about the necessity for a new document, but from the above screenshot taken yesterday on the Department of the Taoiseach’s website, it doesn’t appear anyone has taken any notice, since the PFG page hasn’t been touched since last September.

Not that the Greens have done anything more than make noise themselves, mind you, since according to them we’re still holding to the original agreement.

This is extremely serious if you ask me. Now I know accountability may not seem to mean much to elected officials on these shores, but I reckon before we bitch and moan about things like NAMA, An Bord Snip or the Blasphemy Bill, we should be asking Taoiseach Without Mandate Brian Cowen & co something like this…

“If you insist on seeing out the remainder of your term despite being arguably the least popular Government in the history of the State, and since you also insist that the previous Programme for Government is no longer relevant, then maybe before you do anything else you could at least do us the courtesy of giving us a new one?”

Naturally I’m being as civil as I can there…my own language would be, shall we say, a tad more direct.

And while we’re at it, we could ask the Opposition why they’re not insisting on this either.

Doesn’t anyone care?

Technorati Tags: Brian Cowen,Trevor Sargent,Bertie Ahern,Mary Harney,The Green Party,Irish politics,paganoireland

1000 words on...more of my lyrics

A WARTS ‘N ALL AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN ORDINARY GUY (Chapter 25 of 50)

Text written : NOVEMBER 18, 2004

I really thought I had it all worked out when I was writing these songs. My philosophical musings led me to believe that it was enough to assume that we didn’t know what was going on, and that there was no need to define a purpose for being alive; all we had to do was get on with it. Nobody really knows what happens when they die; most of them just prefer to accept what they have been told and live their lives accordingly. Indeed, I sure was one smug son-of-a-bitch in the 90’s!!!

Although “Buckpassing” was written to my offspring, it was conceived before they were. I remember distinctly I was standing on the platform at Alewife station in Boston when I got the tune in my head – I even grabbed my wife and hummed it into her ear hoping she’d help me remember it later. The lyrics came surprisingly easily, built around the scaffolding of the central theme.

As sure as darkness can be full of many dangers
As sure as little children shouldn’t talk to strangers
As sure as night follows day you’ll ask me the question
As sure as Mother Nature cannot be predicted
As sure as one to nicotine can be addicted
I’m sure I can safely say you’ll ask me the question

“Daddy, what’s really going on?”

Well, I could give you a bible and tell you to read
I could give you commandments and tell you to heed
But could I honestly say they’d answer your question?

Ask me how,
I’ll show you ways in which you can proceed
Ask me where
I’ll show you places you will not believe
Ask me any of the above and I’ll gladly reply
There’s just one thing though
Don’t ask me why

Now if you wonder why I question my ability
My train of thought it’s greatly lacking in mobility
In fact, when it comes to this, it’s stuck at the station
I asked the conductor what on earth the whole delay was for
He just laughed and said “Stop using stupid metaphors!
You can dodge all you like but they’ll still ask the question!”

“Daddy, what’s really going on?”

Ask me how, ask me where,

Ask me which,
I’ll help you choose the one that serves you well
Ask me what,
I’ll give you things to use for show-and-tell
But with one small request I cannot comply
You get the picture
Don’t ask me why

See in my soul, there’s a void
That I can’t avoid any longer
Whenever I try another year goes by
And the feelings can’t get any stronger
So when you ask me why I’ll sing this lullaby
In the hope that one day you’ll see
I’ll always learn more from you
Than you could ever learn from me

Ask me how, ask me where, ask me which, ask me what,

Ask me when,
I’ll take you all the way through history
Ask me whodunit,
And I’ll help you solve the mystery
But if it’s reasons you seek then don’t even try
I sure can’t help you
Don’t ask me why

© JL Pagano 1994

“Heavy Stuff” is really an ode to my adolescence, the period in which innocence is lost and understanding begins. The first draft looked much more like a suicide note and thus the reference to its futility had to be factored in. Again I was surprised with how easily the words flowed as I came up with them in my head; here we probably have the only two of my lyrics I would say I’m totally satisfied with.

Nobody told me it’d be this hard just getting through the day
With complications, situations getting in my way

I remember when I was a little boy
Who thought nothing at all could get in my way
The shit grown-ups told me used to build me up so high
That I swear to you I thought that I could fly

But then an overdose of reality left me shaking like a leaf
I found out life ain’t a fairy-tale much to my disbelief
Then all of a sudden all my childhood games didn’t matter anymore
And though I found it hard I had to disregard all I had learned before

Well I’ll tell you what
I’ve had enough
I don’t wanna play no more

Nobody told me it’d break my heart to see what’s really going on
With desperation, sheer frustration, making me write this song

Now whenever I see a little boy
Who thinks nothing at all can get in his way
I wanna sit him down, wanna spin him round, wanna open up his eyes
And show him the power of an open mind instead of fillin his head with lies

You know the sun’s what makes the rain worthwhile
A frown’s ok so long as you smile sometimes

Just try and find the light shining through the darkness
And maybe then you’ll begin to understand
You see noone’s got the monopoly on loneliness
In fact you could say that supply exceeds demand

Make me laugh – tell me a joke I ain’t never heard before
I think laughter keeps me from going crazy
You know maybe the past would come out that much clearer
If the future wasn’t so damn hazy

I know suicide may be painless but it doesn’t solve a thing
It makes a fool of birth and surely can’t be worth all the heartache it can bring

If only I could find the light shining through the darkness
Maybe then I’d begin to understand
I guess noone’s got the monopoly on loneliness
In fact you could say that supply exceeds demand

And when you add it up
You just get fed up
You want out but you don’t know how
Well I’ll tell you what
I’ve just had enough
Of this heavy stuff
Can I go home now?
I said – can I go home now?
I wanna go home…

© JL Pagano 1994

© JL Pagano 2004

what's wrong with the gaa

Before you read this post, please be sure that I am 100% aware that Dublin were totally outclassed by Kerry in every aspect of the game last Monday.

There's nothing that can take away from that. However, call it sour grapes if you want, but the fact remains that the ridiculous format of the All-Ireland Championship means that for yet another year, the Dubs were eliminated after losing just one match by a team that were allowed to lose one match. I wonder if that status quo would remain if Kerry or Tyrone were similarly affected?

As I was twittering the game on Monday, someone replied and mentioned that the GAA was "confident in its own brand". Time, methinks, to re-publish a post from 2006, which examined just that very point, and outlines a few areas I felt needed addressing - very few of which have been dealt with in the meantime.

Remember – just because I list what’s wrong doesn’t mean I think there’s nothing right…

I started to feel nervous once I finished typing that title. Should I be looking over my shoulder around now? I’m just about to diss the undissable!

The debate over the use of Croke Park was one of the most fascinating in sporting history, not just on this island. To those who can’t claim ancestry on Celtic soil, it seemed like a ludicrously lop-sided argument.

Basically a couple of big boys who wanted to play ball in the neighbourhood’s immaculate park were being denied by a smart-ass pipsqueak kid who tantalisingly dangled the keys from inside the fence. Yet whenever I heard the protagonists discuss the matter, I always got the sense that the big boys both knew the pipsqueak’s Dad would kick their ass if they pushed him too far.

Just look at me as an even smaller pipsqueak shouting rude words through the fence from behind the big boys and then running away as fast as my little legs will carry me.

Before I go on, I should give two reasons why I may be considered biased when writing this piece.

First, I’m a disgruntled Dubs fan who feels like it’s a joke that the only counties who don’t get to use the “back-door” system are the four who actually become champions of their province.

Second, I’m a disgruntled soccer fan who is convinced that were it not for the existence of Gaelic sports, we’d have both soccer AND rugby team that could realistically compete for honours in their respective World Cups.

If you spend any length of time here or indeed study the island’s history, you know that you can’t just look at the GAA as a sporting organisation. It has links to the nation’s history; in fact it has strong links to its very foundation.

Trust me – I totally get that.

I also know the GAA will never, ever go away. And if truth be told, I wouldn’t really want it to. Think of an annoying relative in your family you have a particular dislike for without actually wishing them dead.

So all that leaves me to do is list what I think can be done to make the games more appealing, and to encourage people to follow it not just because they are supporting their county or their country, but because it actually involves entertaining sports that can realistically compete with the ones that are embraced all around the world.

And so I have compiled six points. I’m sure I can list more. And yes, I know you could easily come back at me with things that are wrong with soccer. Trust me, for every one of those you could come up with, I could produce three, but that’s for another day’s writing.

1. MINDLESS BEAUROCRACY – The Croke Park saga showed me exactly where the GAA’s problems are rooted. To make a decision, it has to be approved by individual province boards, individual county boards, in fact I think parish priests even get a veto by the looks of it. I’m sorry, but from my practical standpoint that makes a mockery of the organisation. Gaelic football and Hurling are minority sports. Not just on the planet, but on this island. That doesn’t mean they’re BAD sports. They are just minority sports. Their top level executive process should not be that complicated. Let the federal level regularly elect a central council for, say, a four year term, and let them get on with governing the game and making decisions without having to convene hundreds of committees all over the country in the process.

2. WHEN IS A HAND-PASS A HAND-PASS? - One frustrating by-product of my first point is that with every new season on GAA sports (though to be honest I’m not quite sure exactly when one season ends and another begins) there is a whole new set of rule changes for the long-suffering fans to digest. Constant tinkering with the hand-pass rules. Yellow, red and even black cards which the referees seem to dole out on a whim more than as a result of enforcing stringent sets of laws. Plus the fact that I can’t for the life of me understand how one man in his forties can be expected to run around a park and keep track of the antics of thirty men aged ten to twenty years younger. I’m sorry – but when a GAA game is officiated, it looks a lot like it a weekend pick-up game down at the park. That is not about the officials, it’s about the ever-changing rules they are expected to enforce.

3. HOW DO YOU GET TO BE CHAMPIONS? – These points are in no particular order, but two get my goat particularly, and this is one of them. Next season, there is to be yet more tinkering with both the All-Ireland Championship and the National League. Now when I say “National League”, what I really mean is the Glorified Friendly Series the GAA runs every spring. Personally, I would find a way of tying the League to the Championship, but what I’d settle for is the GAA executive (one with teeth as I outlined before) to agree on a format and stick to it for at least four or five seasons in a row before altering it. Just stick to this premise – try and get the best two teams in the country contesting the All-Ireland Final. It doesn’t look like rocket science to me.

4. SHOW ME THE MONEY – Though I appreciate the GAA’s pride in retaining its amateur status, I can’t see the GPA going away any time soon. The central executive should let them in under the umbrella and start sharing the wealth generated by the sports equally among those who actually contribute to it.

5. DROP THE DRAWS – My biggest pet peeve of all. I’ve written about it before on my blog. This drives me up the wall and down the other side. There is pretty frequent scoring in both Gaelic football and Hurling. There is absolutely NO reason why a single-elimination contest cannot be settled on the day. No need to bring everyone back the following week to buy thousands more tickets. It really should be unconstitutional to be able to unnecessarily legislate large amounts of cash for yourself. But I guess on this island that wouldn’t make them the only ones, right?

6. WHY HIDE YOUR BEAUTIFUL HQ? – One argument I heard from GAA-heads throughout the Croke Park debate went something like this – “Why should we share with rugby and soccer when they can’t build their own stadium?” To the GAA I say this. You want to really humiliate them? Let them play their games in Croker, and when the French and the Aussies and the Brazilians and yes, even the English come to play, you make sure you let their fans know about your games when you have them assembled before and after the matches. Tell them you built it. Show it off to the world!!! You can’t do that when Kerry plays Mayo. You can when it’s a Six Nations game or a World Cup qualifier.

That’s it for now. Of course I don’t know that much about it to begin with. I’m sure I will incur a backlash from GAA fans.

Sometimes, however, it helps to hear the truth from outside the fence. All I'm saying to the GAA is, maybe the game should market itself towards soccer and rugby fans - some of us wouldn't actually mind coming on board and spending our money on your tickets. As you are so keen to point out, there's a lot wrong with our sports as well.

I hope I didn’t offend anyone too much.

© JL Pagano 2006

Technorati Tags: paganosports

#paganodiet – 4 months down

for overall progress chart see the sidebar>>>

A large 3-piece variety meal from KFC, and an M50 burger with chips and onion rings from Eddie Rockets.

They are things I have consumed in the seven days since my last #paganodiet reading and I STILL lost two pounds on the week.

And while the three pounds I lost overall in July may not seem as dramatic as previous months, that’s still what I call a success.  Let’s face it – if I kept losing at the same rate as the first few weeks there’d be nothing left of me now!!!

In mid-July I finally settled on an overall timeframe and target for this project.  52 weeks, with a maximum goal weight of 17:5 (243lbs) – that would mean an overall loss of more than three stone.

Of course LOSING the weight is only half the battle…KEEPING it off is the key, which is why I’ve gone for a year’s worth of taking pics of my toes every Tuesday morning!!!

I seemed to have reached something of a “plateau” around the 18:6/18:7 mark so something needed to be added to my daily routine of going for at least 60 minutes of walking.  Good job I never got around to getting rid of my weights and abshaper!

300 crunches, plus a series of reps with the handweights and the long barbell.  Doesn’t take more than 15 minutes each day.  And since I’ve been doing the walking up to now, I find I have the energy & fitness to get them done without too much bother.

On an even better note, more and more things in my wardrobe fit me now!  All those t-shirts which claimed to be XL but seemed half the size of other XLs now get over my head comfortably. 

Obviously the next big milestone will be to get under the 18 stone mark, but I’ve decided to choose my short-term targets wisely.  For now, I’ll be happy to continue my record of 7 weeks without a gain and take it from there.

Thanks again for all your support throughout…you can follow me on Twitter if you want to see the weekly updates, usually around 11am on Tuesdays, otherwise I plan to do my next monthly report on September 1st.

1000 words on...my ex

Chapter 24 (of 50) from "STORIES WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS : A WARTS 'N ALL AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN ORDINARY GUY"

Written: December 30, 2004

Though the chapters in this book are presented in a somewhat chronological order, they were not written as such. I listed 50 topics and gave myself until January 1st to complete them. Understandably, I have left the writing of this chapter until the eleventh hour. When the source of my anger and frustration is not my mother these days, it is invariably the person whose name adorns this chapter.

Of course, it was not always bad times. From February 4th, 1988 to March 16th, 2000, there were a hell of a lot more good times than bad, and to summarize my association with her purely on the grounds of any bitterness I may retain would be grossly unfair, especially to my kids, for whom this book is supposedly being written. I deal enough with the split in other chapters, so I will try to confine my scope to the happier times.

We met through a mutual acquaintance called Barry Mullen. He had mooched her at a few parties, and I had become friendly with him through the first year Psychology class. The Feb 4 date mentioned above was UCD Arts Day, and all the Arts students were to dress up in pyjamas and basically get blind drunk for the whole day to raise money for some charity or other.

I have to assume that Barry had hoped to be with MyX on the day, since she and her friends were sitting with us in the bar, but as it turned out she knocked over my pint of lager and was extremely apologetic, while I was extremely forgiving! Before I could say “Wait a tick, I’m still in me bloody pyjamas!” I was in her mother’s kitchen having coffee, since we had to go back to her house to get her tickets for a ball that evening, and I understandably wanted to get away from being around Barry for a while.

MyX's attractive features at the time were a stunning figure and a mass of distinctive red hair. I was still somewhat on the rebound from Cathy Neary, and naïve as I was, it was not hard for me to fall headlong into a new relationship very easily.

It wasn’t long before I was bringing her home to meet my grandparents, and she was the first girlfriend they had met. My grandfather was so interested to meet her he actually sat in the living room of our house in Blackrock, a place he rarely frequented. After I had seen MyX to her bus and returned home that night, he said to me something like; “She’s a lovely girl Jeff but don’t think she’s the only girl you are ever going to meet!” His words fell on deaf ears, and only now do I see their wisdom.

Every single stage of our association was dictated by her; our first date, our first shag, our first trip away, our first place together, our engagement, our wedding, our first baby, our first house, and ultimately, our separation. I was delighted to tag along, just happy that someone wanted to spend so much time with me. I never considered myself being led in a particular direction, nor did I even consider that a life without her wasn’t so terrible a prospect. Even when other women would flirt with me, and at the risk of sounding vain several did, I assumed that it was the fact that I was spoken for that proved the main attraction.

And so, four and a half years after our first kiss, I was shaking like a leaf at the altar in St Agnes’ Church in Crumlin as we went through our marital vows before all our family and friends. I never thought I would be nervous, but in the church I was a trembling wreck. On the contrary, she was the personification of calm, and was actually dressed and ready before her bridesmaids! After a great day for everyone, we stayed the night in a honeymoon suite and ironically got the 46A bus home to our flat in Donnybrook the following morning, for instead of the traditional 2-week honeymoon we planned to take off to the USA en route to “travelling the world”.

Although to us at the time so much about the wedding seemed perfect, a lot of it showed just how unprepared we were not just for the ceremony, but for the marriage that followed. Neither of us thought to ask the priest back for the wedding dinner! Also we actually had the nerve to ask our friends for money as a wedding present to see us on our way to the USA. If someone told me they wanted money today I would think them extremely rude, and no doubt ours felt the same.

We were happy when together, and very, very rarely had fights. What ones we had usually came when I tried to suggest a course of action contrary to that put forward by her. As she is an extremely intelligent and practical person, I rarely had a cause to disagree, but now looking back I realize that a strong relationship must involve input from both sides if it's to stand a chance of surviving. It was when she asked me to give up my position as sports store manager that I finally had to draw a line in the sand, and was a line not to be crossed.

I did love MyX, and despite my transgressions, was willing to spend the rest of my life with her. Ironically it was her sense of looking at things in a practical light that rubbed off on me enough to help me get through our separation. Now, I do not resent her, I see her more as a co-worker, someone with whom I must associate without feeling the need to get too involved. We agreed to explain to our kids that they were both born out of love, a fact they will hopefully one day come to appreciate.

Next Week ... Chapter 25 : "1000 words on...More of my Lyrics"

© JL Pagano 2004