What a farce!

Jake Joseph brings over 20 years of both Public and Private sector experience primarily in market and business development, culminating in senior management.  Prior to settling in the US, Jake had spent several years in Sub-Saharan Africa working first at KPMG in their interim and final audit department and then for the UN in a Project Management capacity for entities like the Food and Agricultural Organization. He has subsequently worked for over 15 years in the IT sector, specific to the development of service practices, with primary focus on ERP (Enterprise Resource Planning).  As the catalyst in the introduction and initial creation of these practices, his responsibilities included the development and deployment of service offerings around Enterprise-wide Business Applications in SAP, Oracle, Baan (now-Infor), Peoplesoft, Siebel, Baan-Front Office (Aurum), IBM-Tivoli and Computer Associates.  He has recently been engaged in technology consulting, sourcing and procurement, bringing together organizations, technologies and people for markets in North America, Europe, Asia and Africa. He has degrees in Business and Economics and was named a Horn Beck Scholar at the University of Denver.  He currently resides in Parker, Colorado with his wife and daughter and is an avid soccer coach/enthusiast and supporter.

What a farce!

What a farce! My football Team the Arsenal, lost to a lowly minnow, West Brom in London on Saturday.

We were well beaten! Watching one of our star men, Abu Diaby, waddle around in slow motion like a clumsy oaf, bereft of ideas, was an excruciating exercise. Not too dissimilar to watching the on-going slow motion of a New Delhi in the negative glare of the global media spotlight. Every child laborer polishing a stadium seat, every barefooted woman scooping a pathetic receptacle of dirt and rubble from one mount over here to another mount over there. The controlled chaos that has almost become the identifiable narrative of an India that justifies the “Chaltha Hai” tag line. In the midst of this comical

yet grotesque Punch and Judy like show, there are the organizers with their retinue of hangers-on and minions, the very personification of complacency.

What an Image! All this, to show the world that “India can do organization and track and field too”. Of course, it could very well be another millennia before we get a slew of Indian male track stars in tights, getting beyond the qualifying heats. No real meat eaters them lot. The women are marginally better. Still, India does produce some crack Olympic shooters. May be they ought to take aim at the idiots who’re responsible for the planning and logistics. What were they thinking, leaving it to this late hour? The great Indian IT computer geek squad could never, on their own, have delivered the operational certainty required for the games. That, it seems, is the exclusive prevue of the great Indian bureaucrat- the red paan chewing corrupt functionary, with his ever present hands clasped in a disingenuous “Namaste” for public consumption. Maybe it was his very own phlegm infused paan chewing spittle in the bathroom sink of the athlete’s village that made the “picture of the day” in every newspaper around the world.

Ironically, the 3 billion dollar gamble might actually pay off. This, despite the almost coordinated series of media attacks, from the ex-colonials with their red letter rags in tow, whining about exposed electrical outlets, filthy bathrooms and dodgy deal making. The games will more than likely extend the India brand. After all, no one in the sub continent is going to be too perturbed with catching a bit of stick about hygiene from the same lot that, now and again, sits in their own bathtub for hours on end, filled with their own expunged body fluids, while referring to the rather revolting ritual as a “bubble bath”.

Excuse me? Try sweat and grunge water!!

No, I suspect one of the real reasons for this “how could we go to THAT place in THOSE conditions ” is more about being eternally pissed off that none of them, not one of them in sport, could think up the idea for the most successful “commonwealth” sporting event in recent times, the Indian Premier Cricket League. Instead, this ram shackle, rather slow, complacent, dodgy, “chaltha hai” nation, just thought it up and did it. And oh, they also invited some of the best practitioners of the sport to come and partake in the “common wealth” generated. Now that must hurt, really hurt, being second bested by their old subjects at their own genteel game. With a brand value, acquired in less than 5 years of over 4 billion dollars, and an average player salary second only to that of the National Basketball League in the US, the IPL, albeit marred in soap operas and scams, is now scheduled to hand out 10% of all players salaries to their respective international cricketing boards. A more respectable form of Baksheesh or “kaikoolie” as we would say down south is alive and well, only this time, it is the local paying the foreigner and not the other way around. Ouch !!

As for my Arsenal? They’re making record profits. It seems the more financially stable they become, the more questions are raised about their players and their drive and motivation. Still they soldier on, despite a concerted effort on the part of a kind of English footballing mafia, pecking at the heels of an Arsene Wenger about his aloofness from them, and his visible distaste for drinking a glass of wine with a bunch of classless ruffians who’d rather play an agricultural type rugby-style football, where breaking

bones is seen as an admirable and laudable trait.

In sport across the Atlantic, the Denver Broncos of the American National Football League, buried its third player in as many years, after two of them succumbed to gun-shot wounds, one self inflicted while a third collapsed at a charity event. I cannot even begin to venture a guess as to why. Apart from the fact that I live in the midst of a deluded and crazed gun culture that proclaims it as a constitutional right ( some folks even legislate it as a compulsory law to own a firearm, as in the case of Kennesaw in the State of Georgia- They even have the T-shirt “Its’ the LAW in KenneSAW”) with the dubious

distinction of being the country with the single largest private arsenal in the world, I cannot even fathom a reason. My reptilian brain is just too small to understand this supposedly profound yet seemingly near death cult that passes for a sacred right. Maybe it’s the water in this rarified climate.

Also, Roger Clemens the all American baseball superstar, was indicted by a Federal grand Jury on six felony counts, including obstruction of Congress, perjury and making false statements for allegedly lying about his use of steroids. Could it have been his bizarre pre-game ritual of soaking in extremely hot water, then having the hottest possible muscle liniment applied to his genitals during his rub down? I kid you not! No wonder the most visible trait of a baseball outfielder, in this most boring of games, is his constant proclivity to multi-task- scratching his loins in plain sight while chewing and spitting tobacco at the same time.

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