MBA Special Olympics

The MBA Olympics get all the glory, overshadowing the other MBA competitions that feature disadvantaged but equally courageous and skilled competitors. One such event, the MBA Special Olympics, took place this last weekend at Case Western Business School's European Campus in Silly, Belgium (see prior posting for more information about Silly).
IESE won this event for the 6th consecutive year, thanks in no small part to two super athletes pictured below. All around super "little person" athlete (and Blogger's cousin) Blidget, and former professional tennis player Bertrandito, who after a freak Petanque accident underwent emergency surgery to have his lower legs attached directly to his shirt.

Shine on you crazy diamonds! Also competing was IESE Banker Alvaro García, who competed valiently in the 100 meter freestyle. Unfortunately, Alvarito was unable to finish the race due to a severe muscle cramp which resulted in emergency extraction from the pool by competition Lifeguards. Our thoughts and prayers are with you Alvaro.

Fame may be Fleeting.....

...but obscurity is forever.

Ever since the day Blogger read this on the wall of some Columbia dorm, it has been his favorite quote. Mostly because it is attributed to Napoleon, which if put in historical context is pretty damn hilarious. If that is the framework with which you live your life, or invade a country, completely disregarding inevitability of defeat with each new bold and dasterdly move, for the mere fact that whatever fame that it garners is much better than having never been known at all, then Blogger salutes you.
What started this frame of thinking was this weekend's MBA Olympics, where Blogger and his valiant IESE comrades placed 2nd overall, loosing for the first time in the event's 3 year history to arch rivals London Business School. The idea of an Olympics for European MBA students may sound rather silly, but in reality the competition was quite impressive. Oxford, who would beat IESE in the Rugby semi-finals featured players from the most recent Rugby World Cup. IESE's dominant tennis team boasted two former semi-professional players in Jorge and Bertrand, and all around athletics superstar and triathelete, Carolina, aka The Sao Paulo Stunna. IESE's futbol team sported a former pro player from European Champion Barcelona's youth team, and vanquished INSEAD in the final thanks to the cat like reflexes of goalie Pablo Royo (see earlier blog posting PABLO!) in the penalty shootout. And of course the IESE MBA Olympics Superhero, our very own Noelle who dominated in every sport her lovely James Spader bob entered, including futbol, cycling, track and field and Rugby. Here she's pictured competing in the semifinalsls of the Three Man Tickle Fight.


Last but not least Blogger, who more or less single handedly doused IESE's hopes of medalling in basketball, captained the climbing team to 6th place out of 7 teams, and placed fourth out of 30 in the long-jump, which sounds great if not for the fact that a Chinese student from Cambridge came in 3rd, without wearing shoes. Blogger did manage a gold medal in the 4 x 200 relay, thanks largely to the 50 meter lead handed to him
by Wondergirl Faye (below) though it must be said that the lead was increased by the time Blogger passed the baton to Jan-Erik.







And last but not least, IESE's world championship Naked Field Hockey team, captained by the Vietnagerman Madman, Huy Nguyen-Tuong. Here is a rare photo of Huy taking a break from his reckless demolision of the opposition.

Unfortunately, due to a wicked shot to the groin with a hockey stick, this was the last time Huy was able to sit down the entire weekend. It's truly a shame when after months of training an athlete suffers an injury off the field, in this case in Paris' redlight district, for 45 euros. Twice.

Aft Weekend Was Yarr

The MBA life in Europe sometimes seems absolutely ridiculous, especially for someone from a small po-dunk town in Oregon and an Agriculture background. Growing up, Blogger's typical answer to the questioin "What did you do last weekend" was "Well, I drove my truck down to Psycho's Gravel Pit with some friends, drank a six pack of Hamm's, threw some rocks at Old Man' Etzle's shack, set an abandoned car on fire and then eluded the police over the south field with my new kick ass thick tread tires".

This week, if someone asks Blogger what he did, the answer is "Well, Medora and I wandered up to the South of France to rendezvous with Andrew, who's over from Manhattan for a couple of weeks, and then sailed on Julien's new 34 ft. sailboat to Cannes to catch the film festival." Who knew the transition from White Trash to Euro Trash could be so seemless.

Captain J at the helm
Andrew enjoying one of the few moments that he wasn't being accosted by flying rigging. Man those were good times.


In the Harbor at Cannes where Blogger only saw one celebrity on the red carpet: Marilyn Manson, who 's continued relevance Blogger finds very hard to understand. Does he still make music? It seems like Blogger only see's Mr. Manson in teen and fashion magazines (which Blogger loves, so shut the hell up) on red carpets, a far cry from his original cutting edge Goth persona, though he still wears tons of makeup, which is pretty
badass.

First Mate Medora takes the helm while the clearly Homosexual Cabin Boy Blogger poses for the camera.

Sweet Medora admiring the lines of the French Coast while Blogger admires her's.

Sinbad the Chef

Tonight, Blogger had the great pleasure of hosting the internationally renown chef, Sinbad Franscallion. Having stowed away on the Mexican Pirate Ship Captained by Dreaded Ina the Flavor Savor (see previous post for a rare photo of the scoundrel), Sinbad had made his way to Barcelona in order to introduce the West to his Exotic Eastern cuisine.

Famous for his eclectic combinations of ruffage and ground meat, with the masterful blend of Far Eastern spices brought straight from the Orient in mysterious prepackaged delight. On tonight's menu, CURRY!

At one point, Blogger attempted to sneak a peak of his secret ingredients. Bad Move. In a flash, Sinbad turned on Blogger like so much curdled milk. If not for some quick talking, and of course the tennis ball trick, Sinbad would have been adding another slab of meat to the night's dish. And that meat was named pork.

Aaarrgggg, I'll Cut Ye! Cut Ye Gooood!

Queen's Day in the Mind's Eye

Never heard of Queen's Day? Well Blogger hadn't either until a few months ago when his Rutch (Russian Dutch) roommate and a group of fun loving Dutch second year students convinced him, and close to 100 other students to sign their lives away for a funfilled three day weekend.

Funfilled indeed, so much so that Blogger had to leave the country two days early in order to guarantee that he would be only slightly retarded when he returned. The jury is still out on whether his plan succeeded in avoiding the, let's say unique frame of mind associated with most Dutch people (sorry Lena, but you're all a bit off kilter), but he did manage to bring home some interesting pictures.

Blogger's first night in Amsterdam was lovely, especially the canals which snake through the streets like...well, a snake.


Franchise and Lamberto particularly appreciate the ability to purchase hot mystery meat sandwiches out of the coin operated vending windows......



....though Blogger still prefers the quality personal service of
Dutch high school dropouts wearing silly hats, ie McDonalds.
(just for the record, Blogger has not eaten at a McDonalds, Dutch or otherwise, for
several years, except breakfast which doesn't count)

The next morning, Amsterdam had morphed into its evil Orange twin Damnamster, and it was clear that Queen's Day would be a very, very orange Dutchstravaganza. Who knew just how orange it would be.


It was impossible not to see the entire city through Orange Colored glasses, though Blogger has a sneaking suspicion that the fellow with the giant orange whistle
had no idea it was Queen's day and dresses like this on a regular basis.

Canals, which the night before had been quiet, picturesque visions of Dutch serenity
had become raucous, overflowing cesspools of Dutch insanity.

Gustavo couldn't hide his excitement about finally finding an occasion to wear his orange feather boa. That is, the first time in public and with clothes on.

By mid day, and after a few dozen beers on a canal (or carnal) barge, Blogger's friend's began morphing into English versions of giant Umpa Lumpa's, ala Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Italian Version....

Rutch version...



Even Blogger couldn't escape the Queen's Day Orange Virus.

The most exciting point on the boat was when we were boarded by a group of Mexican pirates.
This is their Captain, Ina.

How can someone wearing a Miss Dutchiverse sash look so mean?
Cheer up Grumpster, its Queen's Day!

These girls got into the Dutch spirit of selling things on the side of the street by playing musical instruments. (Many illicit jokes could follow about Dutch women selling things on the side of the road, but even Blogger has his standards)

Blogger got caught by this boot wearer's boyfriend taking pictures of said boots. His attempt to explain the artistic value of the shot didn't work, so he pretended to throw a tennis ball
in the opposite direction, temporarily distracting the would be assailant before running
away.

God bless you macro settings.

And God Bless you too Herr Herring.
You are especially delicious with pickles.

Early the next morning, the pure Orange delight of Queen's Day had begun to fade from our rosey cheeks. Lamberto could not be wooed by the solicitations of the Dutch female, no matter how hard she tried.


Blogger and Franchise Lewis tried their best to revitalize the missing Dutch magic through imbibing mysterious Orange potions.

But even that had its limits, as by 7:30 am Franchise was slowly devolving into a homeless Dutch vagabond, collecting miscellaneous articles of clothing along the side of the road........

...and the glorious Orange Dutch Glow that had emanated from Blogger just hours before....

.....was now just a reflection in his burnt out mind.