La finalísima

Grêmio won in Lanús’s stadium, obtaining the Copa Libertadores for the third time. Interestingly, Grêmio’s manager became only the first Brazilian to have won the tournament as a manager and as a player.

Here you can watch the highlights. All the goals are very good. Just before Grêmio’s second goal, you can hear the announcer saying that it’s a golazo, even though the ball carrier still needs to shoot past the goalkeeper.

Grêmio dominated in both games, last night and last week. After the series, Lanús’s players all wept. Barcelona would have had a good chance of obtaining the championship against Lanús. Barcelonistas will forever rue having lost to Grêmio in the semifinal.

A “civil” action

I finished reading A Civil Action, five hundred pages about why not to practice the law. A cover blurb says: “The legal thriller of the decade” (i.e., the 1990s). Indeed. No other task could be more herculean, more quixotic, than that to which these litigators set themselves.

These litigators obviously are the good guys. The two industries that they’re suing clearly are guilty of polluting some groundwater and causing the plaintiffs’ family members to die of cancer. But, righteous though the cause may be, the litigators are suing these two industries because the owners have deep, deep pockets. (You could say that the good guys are a little greedy.)

And so ensues a war of attrition. The defendants, with their unending resources, drag out the proceedings, expecting the plaintiffs’ lawyers to run out of money. The litigators plunge further and further into debt. The book opens with a flash-forward scene in which one litigator’s Porsche is repossessed. You could say that the main question of the book is: will this guy win enough money to recover his Porsche? Suspense is generated by such problems as: will he be able to pay the dry cleaners so that he can wear a suit to court?

All of which makes it seem terribly stressful to be a lawyer. And undignified. Everybody is always getting scolded by the judge – who, in some passages, himself seems barely competent. (You wonder: what is this crazy system?)

Worst of all, for the righteous litigators at least, there’s a constant crisis of the self. These smart people are pushed so hard that they end up trusting in some very dumb things, like lotto tickets and “shyster” credit cards. And horoscopes: “Whether your problems be of a personal or career nature, you must refuse point blank to settle for less than you know to be just and honorable” (emphasis on “settle”). And the judge. And even the defense lawyers. There’s a code of behavior in lawyering that encourages the litigators to trust their opponents. You can imagine how, in some circumstances, this would be a bad idea. The book’s title can be read as an ironic pun.

Thanksgiving

It’s my Thanksgiving break, so I stayed at home. Karin went to her job. I read all morning. I missed the armed robbery that occurred at IUSB. In the afternoon, I performed some chores and wrote in my dissertation. Ziva and Jasper were glad to have me with them.

In the evening, I watched Grêmio defeat Lanús, 1–0, in the first game of the Copa Libertadores’s final round. It wasn’t a beautiful game. I turned it off after the first half and watched Midsomer Murders with Karin. In that show, there was one especially nice camera shot. It was from the point of view of a murderous shovel.

For tomorrow’s holiday dinner, we’re planning to eat Greek food, not Chinese. Then we’ll go to Karin’s grandpa’s house to play Phase 10 for several hours.

I’m grateful, this Thanksgiving, for my wife and kitties.

In praise of idleness

Karin was going to take a bath. She was sad. The weekend was drawing to a close.

With some hyperbole, she told me: “I think that people shouldn’t work.”

“I basically agree,” I said. “While you’re in the bath, why don’t you read this article, ‘In Praise of Idleness’ by Bertrand Russell.”

“I’m not going to read it in the bath. That would require too much work.”

“Then I’ll read you the first bit,” I said.

“How long is this article?” said Karin after a while.

“It goes from page 9 to page 29.”

Presently, I finished reading the article out loud. Karin groaned. “You read the whole thing.”

“I guess I did!”

Then Karin took her bath.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

I’ve never believed that working, in and of itself, is virtuous. I’ve always regarded it, in its usual severity, as a curse due to the Fall – or, at least, as a natural consequence of the Fall, of humanity’s rejection of God as its sovereign.

Russell (an atheist) explains tidily why this is so. He argues that if we had good central planning, we’d be required to work considerably less than we actually do (though each of us would have to contribute his or her fair share). Not only would this bring us more freedom, it would improve civilization, make us less warlike, and allow us to be “better-natured,” i.e., kinder and more loving.

But instead our rulers are unjust, and we’ve accepted their self-serving message that working is virtuous in and of itself. And so we resent each other and have wars, and, in our meager leisure-time, we’re too tired to do anything but watch TV.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Jesus says: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

I list all the World Cup teams

Last night, I watched Peru defeat New Zealand, 2–0, to qualify for the World Cup. Earlier yesterday, Australia defeated Honduras, and the previous day, Denmark defeated the Republic of Ireland. And so the qualification cycle has ended.

Before I went to sleep, I recited all of the qualified teams to Karin:

Egypt
Morocco
Nigeria
Senegal
Tunisia

Australia
Iran
Japan
Saudi Arabia
South Korea

Belgium
Croatia
Denmark
England
France
Germany
Iceland
Poland
Portugal
Russia
Serbia
Spain
Sweden
Switzerland

Costa Rica
Mexico
Panama

Argentina
Brazil
Colombia
Peru
Uruguay

Iceland (not Ireland) and Panama are first-time participants. Peru last reached this stage when I was less than a year old.

I have vivid World Cup memories of all the other teams.

Qualification, which has nearly ended

Africa completed its World Cup qualification cycle. These are the five successful teams: Egypt, Morocco, Nigeria, Senegal, and Tunisia.

In Europe, the Italians were knocked out by the Swedes. This was notable but not surprising. Since 2006, the Italians have underwhelmed.

The Northern Irish lost heartbreakingly against the Swiss. For analysis, I recommend an excellent video – “This Referee is Terrible. Never a Penalty. 12 Man Switzerland Beat Northern Ireland 1-0” – by YouTube user Themadmistake. (Karin told me not to link to this video. It has filthy language.)

The Greeks also failed to qualify, having lost to the Croatians.

Tomorrow, the Republic of Ireland will host Denmark in the culmination of yet another playoff series. And on Wednesday, Australia will host Honduras. In both these series, the initial matches were goalless.

The same was true of Peru’s first match against New Zealand. This series also will be decided on Wednesday, in Lima.

In the first game, in Wellington, the Peruvians were the vastly superior team. A timid team will bring the ball out of its own half by booting it through the air, and a good team will bring the ball upfield by performing a sequence of short passes. But the Peruvians brought the ball out simply by dribbling. The Kiwis were powerless to prevent this.

And yet the game was scoreless because the Kiwis packed all their players in front of their own goal.

Also, both teams were without their best strikers:

(1) The New Zealander Chris Wood, who was injured. He did make a rather terrifying appearance late in the second period.

(2) The Peruvian Paolo Guerrero, who’d tested positive for illicit drug use. As they say in Peru, Hoja de coca no es droga.

A song by the kitties

Karin has written a song from the perspective of Jasper and Ziva:

We love our parents
They are good to us
We love our parents
They did not dispose of us

… which is not so different from what churchgoers sing about God.

When we were orphans

Well, after this week, I know what it’s like to “throw out” one’s back. There were hours on Monday and Tuesday when I hardly could walk. To get to the toilet, I had to inch my way out of bed and cling along the furniture.

But I didn’t miss any work. At home, I rested. Now I feel downright spry.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

I’ve nearly finished reading Kazuo Ishiguro’s When We Were Orphans. What an odd book. It’s partly a detective story, with none of the investigative precision of the usual detective story. It’s partly a fantasy – not of fantastical physics, but of fantastical life expectations. It’s partly a heartrending memoir, with the foggiest, least reliable of memoirists.

The chaotic events and feelings of this book unfold with creeping slowness, in language exquisitely formal and unchaotic.

And yet: if this book is more admirable than affecting, more a construction than a spontaneous cry, that is not a fault.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Barcelona played well and bravely in the second semifinal leg, winning again on Brazilian soil. But 1–0 wasn’t ample enough a victory. Grêmio advanced to play in the final. Now I shall cheer for the modest Argentinian club, Lanús.