If At First You Fail… Fail, Fail Again

It’s probably the highest compliment to the now defunct Fire Joe Morgan that their blog name spawned a verb. Now, when we receive something epically dumb, someone around here usually offers to FJM it.

So yes, our theft of their schtick is pure flattery.

Anyway today we’re going to talk MLS expansion. The collective UF is fairly ambivalent on most the cities up for a team. We like some places more than others, but we don’t think there is any bid that should be trashed straightaway.

So with that in mind we give you this piece from the Orlando Sentinel on Miami’s bid for a second MLS franchise.

Play along after the jump as we deconstruct Uncle Ed. And not that’s not a euphemism (but it’s also not a stone as I am well aware that I blog under the moniker of Precious Roy).

No matter where I go it seems every news article, blog or discussion board has a large group of haters just waiting to comment with something negative about a Major League Soccer team being awarded to Miami… and I wonder why?

Dude, that’s so true. That shit also happens to me no matter where I go. Just today I was taking my morning poo, when suddenly a blog post that was full of negativity about soccer in Miami appeared out of nowhere. Blogs, articles, message boards, I can’t get away from them. They’re like Jehovah’s Witnesses.

I’m guessing the author doesn’t go anyplace besides the Internet.

Did someone from Miami treat them bad? Maybe their vacation in Miami was that terrible? Perhaps it was an ex-girlfriend from Miami?

This is either attempted humor, or the silliest list of motivations for writing about pro sports expansion ever put together. I’ve actually spent time thinking about it and I can’t decide which it is.

Whatever the case I’m here to Finally confront these mere pathetic mortals with a little reality!

Are there immortals writing about MLS expansion? Anyway, most of the stuff I’ve come across has been deferential to the Miami bid, and almost solely because it has ties to FC Barcelona. The only thing I’ve read that raised concerns was a piece in SI. Here, this one. Now, granted my sample versus your sample isn’t very intellectually compelling, but the onus is on you here. If you’re arguing against the “haters” then you should probably establish that a) they exist and b) they are the majority of people commenting on the possible MLS bid in Miami. You didn’t do either.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Folks, I’m sorry most of you live in Cold places

Where is Cold? I’m going to guess North Dakota. I bet that whole fucking state in under ice like 72% of the year.

If you turn “cold” from a proper noun back into an improper noun, then that statement is not relevant. It might also be false. The population shift in the US over the last 40 years is away from cold weather climes to warm ones.

Also, where can I get a random proper noun generator?

I’m sorry our women are beautiful

Also not relevant.

I’m sorry that one of the two new teams that will be part of Major League Soccer will be a team out of Miami.

Apologizing for things that have yet to happen? If this is something you will regret, but it hasn’t happened, then shouldn’t you instead work to make it not happen? That way you could avoid having to apologize.

Sucks to be you but thats just the way the cookie crumbles!

Boom! Scoreboard. You. Sucks to be us. Man, there is no recovering from that one. We’re just going to stop right here. We’ve lost. And that cookies crumbles bit? You sir are like Shakespeare and Hunter Thompson, only combined into one person.

Sure, go ahead and comment about how the last team in Miami failed (It was actually in Ft Lauderdale)

The New York Giants play in New Jersey and sell out every game. The L.A. Galaxy play in Carson and lead the league in attendance. What’s your point? That people won’t go someplace to see a team that’s different from the city that the team has in its name? My point is that I came up with two counterexamples without having to think about it.

go ahead and cry about how the fans didn’t show up (In the last year of the Miami Fusion; attendance went up almost 50%),

Finally, now we’ve got data, or rather datum. But he’s got a number to help back up his claim, and even better, it’s accurate. The average attendance at Fusion games indeed jumped 50%. It went from two fans to three.

In 2000, the Fusion drew an average of 7460 fans. That was dead last—12th out of 12—in attendance, and the lowest number in the (admittedly brief) league history. The next season, when the Fusion had the best regular season record in the league, attendance jumped to 11,177. While a nice jump in absolute terms (and yes almost a 50% increase) it was still only good for 9th best in the league, and just slightly better than half of what league leaders D.C. United averaged in attendance (21,518).

Just for the sake of completeness, here are the Fusion attendance numbers (with the rank in parenthesis).

• 1998: 10,284 - (11th of 12)
• 1999: 8,689 - (11th of 12)
• 2000: 7,460 - (12th of 12)
• 2001: 11,177 - (9th of 12)

So the Fusion were last or next to last in attendance every year of their existence save one. That one year, they were pretty good. That more people come out to support a winner isn’t the least bit surprising.

The two years they finished next to last, the only team below them was Kansas City. So Miami, a city with a metro area population of about 5.4 million people barely outdrew a city about 35% of its size (Kansas City is about 1.9 million people).

complain about the weather (I got nothing on that except it doesn’t snow here and thats still great!).

Actually, it does snow in Miami.

No Stadium to play in? FIU’s brand new stadium is there, regulation Fifa size and everything! Why all the complaining? Jealous people my friends, because when it gets down to it…. Where do most people want to go?

Because when it comes down to it… insert an ellipsis.

God I’m so envious of Miami with it’s hurricanes and plastic surgery-addled population. Wait, I know how I’ll get back at them, I’ll write that they don’t deserve an MLS team. By helping to keep a sport out of the area that nobody ever attended the first time it was there I’ll have my revenge. Bwa ha ha ha.

That works best if you envision me screaming it with a Herbert Lom as Chief Inspector Dreyfus eye twitch. Anyway I certainly hope the author is kidding because that’s one of the three dumbest arguments I’ve ever heard in my life.

Let me see some hands…who wants to go to Canada?

Let’s play along… I do. Vancouver is absolutely beautiful. One of the better cities in North America.

Anyone for St Louis?

Eh, I’ve spent a few nights in St. Louis. Not a preferred destination, but I can think of worse places to be exiled.

Portland?

Another great city. Totally livable. Good people. If you gave me a good job in Portland, I’d move there tomorrow.

Atlanta?

I’ll pass. I’m not too big on sprawl. But if hot babes is central to your argument, Atlanta grades out well in that department.

Ok, ok, Miami, Florida anyone.

Been there twice. It was okay. But if I never went back it wouldn’t bother me in the least bit. Plenty of places have nice weather and hot babes. Miami is not particularly special in this regard.

The argument here seems to be: I like Miami, so they should have an MLS team. Me? I like Sydney. So they should have an MLS team. I also like Reykjavik. Can we put one there?

So why will it be different this time? Deep pockets! Miami Fusions last owner didn’t have them and wasn’t willing to stick it out

Miami’s last owner was a guy named Ken Horowitz. He was an early investor in the wireless industry. He co-founded Cellular One and purchased cell phone licenses for central New York. He then sold 1.3 million potential customers to Southwestern Bell. For his troubles, he pocketed $250 million according to this article here.

I’m not sure about any of Horowitz’s other investments, or how much he made in all of his wireless business, but a quarter of a billion dollars seems like plenty deep pockets for MLS in the late 90s.

so it wasn’t the fans that failed the team, the fans were there.

No they weren’t. Back up a couple of sections if you missed that.

If the MLS could take it back I’m sure they would have kept Miami because of Location, location, location. Thats why they always wanted to come back.

So nobody was really going to games, and the Fusion (or the Fusion’s share in the league as the league owns all the teams) were probably hemorrhaging cash because of it, so they folded up shop. But that was actually a mistake because, hey what nice weather, and check out that cans on that bimbo.

The difference today is that Barcelona of Spain is one of the investors.

Not to be confused with Barcelona of Utah. I’m assuming he means F.C. Barcelona as I don’t think the municipality of Barcelona will be investing in MLS.

It probably does make a difference that FCB, as opposed to some wireless tycoon—oh wait, that’s the co-investor this time around—wants to get in to the league, especially from the league standpoint. In fact that alone might be enough for MLS to want to go back to Miami. How can they pass up the opportunity to have FC Barcelona invested in the league? But what, beyond the name, is Barca really going to provide? I don’t mean that rhetorically. What have they committed to that will make this substantially more appealing both to the league and to the fans? Despite having an enormous fan base in Southern California, Chivas de Guadalajara providing the name as part of their ownership in MLS hasn’t been a boon to popularity for the American side as Chivas USA is 8th (of 14) in average attendance (see the SI article linked above). That lags about 11,000 fans per game behind their cross-venue rivals, the Galaxy. Certainly some of that difference can be attributed to the presence of David Beckham, but it’s still eighth.

The difference today is that Soccer in this town is being played more then ever! In every park, empty lot, back yard, kids, adults, animals, you name it! They are all playing the game.

People are playing soccer (sorry, Soccer) in kids? Okay, parallel structure issues aside, if you can quantify the purchasing power of pets in Miami, and give me an estimate of how much of that is likely to be spent on MLS, I’d be interested in hearing that.

We have a large support group in the Miami Ultras Fan Club, (Go and join!) We have Soccer academys from Homestead to the Palm Beaches! Things are better organized.

That doesn’t mean people will go to games. It might help things be better if the MLS goes back, but better is relative. Will they jump from next-to-last to next-to-next-to-last in attendance?

When the news comes in January; I’ll be very surprised if Miami doesn’t get a team. Shocked is the word.

I thought “Grease” is the word. Okay, I’ll flagellate myself for that. In any event, if it’s going to shock you then MLS certainly must give it to Miami. Best argument I’ve heard yet. Sarcasm.

At the end of the day Miami is where its going to be.

That sentence makes me want to stab you. And I’m a pacifist.

Because if you ask any player in the world, where would you want to play if given a choice in the USA? It would be Miami.

I’m resisting going back to sic this thing up. I’m thinking that if I asked any player in the world where they’d want to play in the USA very few of them would say Miami, primarily because Miami doesn’t have a team. Even if it did, I’d wager a good percentage of players would say New York or L.A. Shit, you pay a player enough, you can make them want to go anywhere, even Columbus.

If you haven’t already Go to the Miami FCB website and check it out! Become a fan, reserve your seats!

So the argument never got more sophisticated than: I like Miami, ergo MLS should put a team in Miami. Oh, and reserve your seats. So that makes this either the least logically compelling thing I’ve read this calendar year or the worst piece of thinly veiled public relations propaganda I have ever read. And I worked in the music industry, which is overpopulated with the illiterate. So, it’s a tough choice.

Written by Darkvader on December 17th, 2008 with no comments.
Read more articles on Fire Joe Morgan Rip-Off and MLS and MLS Expansion and Miami Fusion.

Stop it. Just stop it.

You know, every day, we go through a lot for you.

We plow through endless links and pore over websites, just so you can have the best coverage you deserve. Many of those links are crap, and we don’t wish to publicize them any further. Sometimes, though, something breaks through and we feel the need to refute it point by stupid point. Today is one of those days, people. Get excited!

Not to name names, but clicking on the author link of this article, you can see that this is his first, and only effort to date for Soccerlens. I’m not saying that the article stems from n00bishness, I’m just saying that I don’t have anything else to compare it to for this writer. Perhaps this is a one-off of misguided opinions. It would be more fun if he were the Skip Bayless of the site, a trove of idiotic rantings, but oh well.

Let’s get to it. Since they aren’t doing it anymore, we are going to go Fire Joe Morgan all over this thing, ‘graph by bloody stupid ‘graph.

(Their words in italics and blockquote, mine in fury)

ARTICLE TITLE: The Non-Style of US Soccer

It is understandable that each country has its own style of play, from the hackneyed description of the Brazilians’ samba, to the Italians’ (dolt-headed) defense-minded catenaccio, it’s an interesting combination of anthropology, geography, and political evolution that created these approaches to The Game.

Wow, two whole examples. Since every country has a style of play, why doesn’t the author highlight the general dirty play of Guatemala, or the South Pacific laid-back play of Tonga? Instead he picks up on two of the most well-known (and oft-written about) examples.

Let’s see if I can explain it to him. Brazil’s soccer is linked to Samba because Samba is a national obsession as both a music style and dance. Brazilian football was seen to have some symmetry with these when the country ascended to soccer superiority. They played a beautiful, free-wheeling game which reminded some of the beautiful, free-wheeling dancing that went with the style of music known as Samba. However, since Dunga has been in charge of the national team, this has been replaced with a more disciplined style, with defense no longer an afterthought.

As for the Italians and their catenaccio (meaning padlock), yes, this is an apt comparison. The last two of the titles that allow them to put those nice stars on their shirt can attest to the fact that it works for them. So I don’t really think that dolt-headed is an apt secondary description of the Italians style of play. Hell, Greece pulled it off in 2004. It seems to work out that if you do not give up goals, you have a greater shot of winning the match.

And yes, it is interesting how different countries approach the game, but what does an LA rapper have to do with it?

Misplaced capitalization aside, a solid second half of the paragraph after a shaky start.

For many countries, their style of play is as much a symbol of their national identity as other staples of their culture; cuisine, language, art, etc…

Once again, please help me out here. The Dutch had Total Football, but what about the French? Besides winning the ‘98 World Cup, what about their style of play is so different and noticeable as to be held deep in the breast of every Frenchman? Sure, they have their language, their cuisine and their art, but what is the defining aspect of French play?

Because soccer is the uniting end-all for hundreds of countries on our Big Blue-Green Ball, it might be worthwhile to examine a country’s playing style in terms of their historical circumstances.

Please call Earth a planet. Save your purple prose for something useful. Yes, it might be worthwhile to do what you described. Let’s see if you can pull it off.

The problem is that my analysis could lead to a diverging ramble on my own false impressions of national stereotypes, such as: [Nationality] are greasy – their style of play is greasy – therefore, [Nation’s] soccer is cheap and greasy. That was an easy low blow coming from a squirly jerk like myself, but I’m willing to say that Americans are the most hypocritical and destructive force on earth, and the only thing that might keep us from not completely destroying the world - other than Obama - is our weak impact on international soccer.

Come on, we all know you are talking about Italians there. Just say it already.

Then there is the hyperbole. “(T)he only thing that might keep us from… completely destroying the world… is our weak impact on international soccer.” I hope he knows that he just wrote that the US’s weak standing in worldwide soccer will destroy the world, but since I edited the quote to get rid of that, I will digress. I’m not even touching the classic libtard self-loathing about the US being horrible for everyone else.

Let’s just say that there is good and bad in the US being the premier world political power. I hope he gets to the part where he can fully form his idea on how the US winning World Cup 2018 will destroy the earth. That should be fun.

The American soccer system is broken; a dead topic indeed but nonetheless even more glaring when even our most successful MLS executives leave to munch on the greener pitches in Europe (see: Ivan Gazidis). When it’s not just the players but the people in the suits leaving, then how can we keep the bodies and the minds around long enough to create a system that lasts? We United Statesians can’t criticize these moves to money and prestige and better training; das Kapital, no? South America deals with a talent exodus too, but we all know why Argentina and Brazil are consistently incredible: these countries have the infrastructure and enjoy a widespread popularity of the Game. These two factors are crucial to understanding why America, with its hegemonic dominance, has never gained a foothold in something so otherwise universally enjoyed.

I wouldn’t say the American soccer system is broken, I would say it is currently run by people who have little interest in making it work in the ways that other nations have. We at UF seem to be united in the fact that the system is wrong and poorly run, but it is not broken, it is just young and needs time to develop. Once a generation of American executives and coaches, as well as players, who grew up knowing soccer from birth get a chance to take over, things will get better.

As for Gazidis, and the players who move overseas, it is a chance work within systems that have decades of experience doing what they do.

Also, “United Statesians?” Gah.

Argentina, and especially Brazil, do export an amazing number of players. And yes, they have pretty darn good National Teams. But how does the fact that these kids play one game from birth explain why the US does not do the same? The author states it does, then uses his nice Sociology word, but it doesn’t connect. The reason why the US is not dominant within the sport at this time is not because we lack soccer infrastructure (I’m quite sure the Brazilian favelas have super-nice pitches that everyone can play on), but because we had other sports to play while Brazil, Argentina and many others were focused on soccer.

It’s like India being world-beaters at cricket. When you have a national sport as an obsession, countries won’t be dominant at the other sports that are niche ones to them.

The Germans are solid, with limbic motions kept to a minimum. The Argentineans have been training since fetus-status to exert calories only in increments of 10. The U.S. men’s national team’s defining characteristic is their inefficiency and imbalance. Like Car Industry, Like Son; and the saying doesn’t go far enough. Our style is that we have no style. “We are” specifically because “we aren’t.” There has never been a defining feature of the American playing style, and I am willing to support the idea because we’ve been on the scene for a couple of decades now, the American soccer system has aged enough to have settled into this “non-style” of ours. Like a mid-life crisis, we realize that we have life, but something is still missing.

The Germans are Molly Shannon on Seinfeld? P.S. The Limbic System is a set of structures in the brain. I guess that the Germans are all brain-dead on the pitch. I don’t even understand what he is saying about the Argentines. Anyone?

This paragraph is so mind-bendingly idiotic that I want to skip it. I understand that the car industry is inefficient, but how the hell is it imbalanced? Has the problem been all along that Ford had too many people working on brakes and not enough people on the engines? And why the hell does this saying you just made up not go far enough? You made it up–run with it.

The author is correct in saying that the US does not have a identifiable style of play. As I put above, neither does France. The Dutch no longer play Total Football, and the Brazilians use less attack and more defending than they used to. I posit that the Americans do have a style: beat up on everyone smaller than you, then watch the manager try to fight through a brain aneurysm as soon as the team is on European soil. Pretty much sums up everything I’ve see post-’94. Now, that’s a problem with the Limbic System.

Mid-life crisis. . . . What? GAH!

The homogeny of other national teams is nowhere to be seen in the U.S. squad. Whereas Spain’s national team consists of Spaniards (or Italy of Italians, Portugal of Portugese, and on and on), the U.S. national team consists of white-bread boys from California alongside the sons of immigrants from Kenya. Again, we have the case of a non-factor (in this case, a lack of homogeny) with which we can clearly define an opposing factor (heterogeneity). The result is that we can use these terms to better understand the characterization of the U.S. national team within a broader classification of geo-political soccer relations (does that even make sense? I hope so).

Here we have it. The most odious bit of the article. I am more convinced than ever that the author just finished his SOC302 final when writing this piece. Yes, America is a hegemony and, for most of us, proudly so. You know what? So is Spain. Besides the Madrid-centric Spaniards, there are also Catalans and Basques within Spanish borders. Italy has a divide as well between North and South. It’s not as pronounced as it was in 1990, when southern Italian Toto Schillacci led the World Cup in scoring for the Azzuri, but it’s there. As for the Portuguese, their greatest player, historically, is Eusebio. He was born in Mozambique and came to play for Portugal because of colonial ties.

Other successful soccer nations have also incorporated foreign-born players into their national sides. You cannot think of the Dutch side of the ’80s and ’90s without thinking of the players that came to them from Suriname. Ruud Gullit, Edgar Davids, Patrick Kluivert and Aron Winter to name a few. What about France? The holder of the World Cup’s single tournament scoring record is Just Fontaine, who was born in Morocco. Zidane was born in France to Algerian immigrants, an outcast group within the country. Put simply, if he were not a great player, he would be an outcast as well.

Then we take a weird turn, because somehow it is not right to have Landon Donovan and Oguchi Onyewu (I’m guessing this is who he means. Gooch is the son of Nigerian immigrants. Adu is the son of a Ghanaian immigrant. No one else seems to fit). The fact that these two have played together since their time at the old Bradenton Academy as Under 17s doesn’t give them enough shared background to play together on the full National Team? What the hell?

Apparently, the author thinks it would be better if all the USNT players came from the same background. Tell me, would France have been better without Zidane? Would Croatia be better without Eduardo? Heck, the USA 1994 team that punched above its weight had seven foreign-born players on the 22 man roster. That team gelled. Why do you assume that Gooch and Landycakes cannot?

Does it make sense? No.

To make sense of these wily words, I’ll define what I mean by “geo-political soccer relations.” Mainly, soccer’s relationship with politics can be seen as a catalyst for peace as well as corruption. The symbolism of two countries setting aside their political differences to enjoy a gay ‘ole match was seen most recently in the meeting of Turkey and Armenia for a World Cup qualifier earlier this year. The game itself was secondary to the handshake between Turkey’s president Abdullah Gul and his Armenian counterpart Serzh Sarsgyan, an event that sparked headlines around the world and resulted in the end of 20 years of diplomatic silence between the two countries. In Germany, the World Cup in 2006 acted as The Great Sluice, and for the first time in who-knows-how-many years there were German flags in the streets, a scene previously owned by Hollywood War films.

If soccer is so great at bringing leaders together, then how come the Euro 2008 qualifying matches between Greece and Turkey were such hot affairs? The two countries are constantly sparring over division in Cyprus. The two matches, and the heated exchanges between the teams, did nothing to further relations between the countries.

And why isn’t the US best friends with Iran now? We let them win 2-1 in World Cup ‘98. Shouldn’t all animosity between the countries have wilted after that? The fact is that politics, especially when spurned by distrust and misinformation about others intentions, cannot be smoothed over by a game. If it could, we should just send the US team to play an Al Qaeda XI. Everything would be better then.

This article really does bring up a great point, though. It’s really too bad that Germans could not display their flag for 60 odd years. Also, it’s great that there were no political overtones at all about playing in Germany. Thousands of Dutch wearing orange WWII-style helmets in Germany was just a coincidence.

Conversely, for every one good happening there seem to be dozens that reveal the a priori human vice: the “Calciopoli” in Italy, 2006; Pele and the UNICEF scandal; the pseudo slave-trade of players throughout the world; and so on and so forth. The Brobdingnagian amounts of money involved, as well as the so-large-they’re-comical egos, has created an ersatz world where billionaires compete to outbid their rivals while a community of shady businessmen bet, steal, intimidate, fight and vie for their own gangland glories of erections and pink nips.

Wait. Soccer is not good because dozens more bad things happen than good? Call off that Al Qaeda match. I was wrong. I also like the thought of people using giant-sized checks to pay their players. It’s like Happy Gilmore in my head. Blah blah blah. Erections and pink nips? Alright, we’ve made a kind of pledge to ourselves to clean up language around here, but I can’t do it. Goddammit son, say what you mean! Don’t go and gussy it up with big words you have a tenuous grasp of. Just fucking say it’s a dick-swinging contest where everybody is comparing their latest conquests. Jesus.

It’s an interesting contrast, the black and white pentagons of the ball reflecting the greater good and evil that is as much the game as it is our shame. That’s why it wouldn’t be a good thing if the U.S. were to balloon into a soccer superpower. The money and publicity and pure kitsch filth would remove the water from the fishbowl, a dry-sticky guppy left behind. “But Will, didn’t you want the U.S. to get better,” you say. “Yes,” I’d reply, “I do still want our team to get better, but we can’t do to soccer what we did to Movies and Books and Iraq and the Native Americans (etc).” Not that soccer would be destroyed, and it can’t be much more Nike-ized than it already is; but it would be like having too many obese cooks in the kitchen.

Soccer has not used a black and white hexagonal/pentagonal ball in decades, for longer than the US program has been in its current, semi-viable state. And please, if you are looking for two colors that violently contrast to the eye, anyone with a single Art History course can tell you that the colors to use are red and green. Given the fact that the author pretty much said that blacks and whites don’t belong in the US shirt together, because they do not have an understanding of each other, it’s a choice he should not have made here.

Let it be known that US Soccer is into eugenics.

Also, what the fuck (sorry, I can no longer hold back) did we do to movies and books? If anything, America changed them from expensive, solipsistic things meant for the wealthy to that which is available for all. Oh, and then there’s a fat American joke. It’s not the last…

The U.S. national team has the qualities of a worthy team, one that can make it to the quarter- or semi-finals of the next World Cup. Our non-style just needs to become a style, instead of merely assuming the role of one. The team itself is just too scrappy; needs more red meat; a super meal for constant losers named Constance and Luser who have never known a home field advantage. If it could be translated, the U.S. team’s story would make one awfully sappy hallmark card, with glossy sparkle-letters that could make a Topekan fat lady cry, but she’d still never watch a game.

Hey, we’re back to the style instead of why America is bad for the world. Non-style becoming a style? I already described the style, the US will be fine in 2010. “Constant losers named Constance and Luser” is a Rivers Cuomo line from when he was 14.

Hey, women in Kansas are fat.
—–

And we are done. No real info on obtaining an identifiable style, and no real insight into the team either. I’ll say this: the calling card for the US squad is that it is evolving. The team takes what it learns from all of the new players and the styles that they bring and it incorporates them. I, for one, am hopeful that the last two decades or so of Central American migration will result in a squad that incorporates some of those native-born players and the style they grew up with into the team. If there is one thing that this team needs as much as anything, it’s an attitude and bite.

Now, let’s discuss for a second what was not discussed–women’s soccer. The US was dominant from the outset as women’s soccer went international, winning both the first World Cup and the first Olympic gold. That wasn’t the end of competitive international women’s soccer. If anything, having the US on top made other countries double time their efforts to get better. I think that a strong US men’s program would do the same. We would see some more evolution from the Brazils and Italys if the world as they would have to scrap their “traditional” style of play and move toward whatever works.

Yes, that could even be moving towards a non-style for every country.

Written by Darkvader on December 12th, 2008 with no comments.
Read more articles on Fire Joe Morgan Rip-Off and Soccerlens should screen its scribes more and oh bloggers and ü75.

Chris Mannix needs to EAFD and DIAF

This will be epic. Chris Mannix.... you're a dead man.

[Figuratively]

Seriously, stop what you're doing and devote 30 minutes to this. We've worked hard and suffered through many broken computers to bring you this. Why? I'm not quite sure.

For a brief reminder as to why we wrote this, and why it took so long (answer to part 2: because it took me this long to calm myself down), read his original piece-of-shit article here.

Sports Illustrated, your editorial department has some 'splaining to do.

Sure, the headline might be a bit harsh if you know your acronyms, but I really don't give a toss. I'm suffering from some awful sunburn, the by-product of sleeping on the beach and general lotion-application stupidity, and while this article angered me last week, now I'm in a full-on sunstroke rampage. In-between bouts of fainting, I'm fucking pissed.

Simply put, Chris Mannix is the latest face on the "Why the US will always hate soccer blah blah blah" bandwagon. He's the most recent chap to brave the choppy waters and add his 2 cents to the argument. Except, amid his awful prose, his argument goes nowhere, and it irritates the shit out of me that he is paid to write garbage like this for a national sports magazine, and also gets the kind of USMNT access that real soccer fans would murder Eric Wynalda to get.

So let's FJM-style this shitbag, shall we?

His intro is soft and pudgy. Just like his character.

"I bet you think soccer is as American as cricket and as thrilling as the Westminster dog show."

No, we don't, but please continue. I can see where you're going.

"All that kicking and heading, and no hands? Maybe that's why Zinedine Zidane dropped Marco Materazzi with a head butt in the 2006 World Cup final."

Hey, he can use Wikipedia! I give him credit for spelling the names right, but really, are we still hung up on this incident? People get sent off for violent conduct and outbursts of emotion on the pitch all the fucking time (heck, just ask Antonio Cassano or Javier Mascherano)!

Still, in the minds of the closed-minded, this is what it all comes down to. A French-Algerian headbutted a vile-mouthed Italian.

"He didn't realize he could use those things attached to his shoulders to throw a punch."

Well, he did, but let's face it, the symbolism was rather tasty.

"And games that end 0-0? (Sorry, nil-nil.)"

A cute joke that bolsters an awful argument. It boils down to this: people think soccer is boring because they don't score too much! Fuck, we've been dealing with this idea since the birth of the game.

Are these same people the ones who decry a 77-74 NBA Playoff game? Or a 9-3 NFL game? Or a 1-0 game of baseball? Or the entire concept of golf?

Because honestly, highlighting one possible outcome of an intricate sport is a laughable way to try and show that it's boring, or simply not worth the time or investment.

Seriously, it's a throwaway point that makes you look like a drooling cretin.

The idea that goals/points/scoring = excitement is only something that neanderthals cling to when watching their sport. Remarkably, it's often the same crowd who mumbles this thought between bites from their KFC Original Bowl and who love NASCAR so much! I realize there's an art to driving fast and all, and that there is some skill to it, but on some chemical level I see it as three+ hours of turning left!

Thankfully, I can come to terms with it while still respecting it, which is more than could be said for Mannix and soccer.

"The zealots will tell you that soccer is ready to become America's fifth major sport. In my mind, it already is. If you're too slow to play basketball, too scared for baseball, too small for football and too clumsy for hockey, you turn to soccer."

Hilarious. I'll let him have this joke. He clearly worked hard on his anaphora, so he gets a brief respite. It's the next paragraph that condemns his entire perspective on the argument at hand.

"In the interest of full disclosure, I have tried my feet at the game. Let's just say it didn't take. It was 1988, and I was in second grade at Sacred Heart Elementary in Kingston, Mass. My team went 0-9. My father was the coach. I was the goalkeeper. After the season the team parents gave my dad a book on how to coach soccer. "I didn't need it," he tells me now. "I already knew how to win. Don't put you in goal." I hadn't watched a soccer game since."

[Scene from Chris Mannix in high school]

Physics Teacher: Hey Chris, we need to talk before class.
Chris: Sure thing, prof.
PT: I just finished grading the midterm, and you got an F. Simply put, you're terrible at physics. You've taken this class five times over already, and despite all the mentoring and after-school tutoring, you're no better than where you were in elementary school.
Chris: (silence)
PT: I understand you're upset, angry even. We can work on this though. I'm willing to give you the benefit of my expertise, and I will commit to helping you gain a better grip of basic physics concepts and ideas in order to make you a better student.
Chris: I renounce the concept of gravity. Fuck you, and fuck Newton.

[end scene -- man, I should call David Mamet. I clearly have a future in screenwriting]

Seriously, SI editors, why let this idiot fumble his way through another 2000 words at this point? Anything you get beyond this heartfelt glimpse into Mannix family lore is pure rubbish.

Letting this guy write editorials is akin to letting Jared from Subway commercials explain the intricacies of Asian cuisine. Sure, he might have a basic idea of what its about, and he's certainly capable of learning, but really, his entire world view dictates that he'll be fucking useless on the subject.

So why bother? Why waste precious pages? You're already a magazine struggling to keep up with the loud and lightning-fast world of sports media, and yet you're continually giving column space to the intellectual equal of Mickey fucking Rooney? Drool on, please.

At this point, Mannix, seemingly incapable of a threaded, coherent argument, jumps into his 5 main complaints about soccer, and attacks them each individually with his experiences from the road, occasionally pausing to offer scant praise for the sport he's always hated.

I warn you, I might pass out from the screaming.

Thankfully, The Likely Lad and Precious Roy were happy to sub in and out to prevent me from being hospitalized.

-----
COMPLAINT NO. 1
American fans lack passion
---
This ought to be good.

"Two weeks ago, if you'd asked me about La Barra Brava, I would have guessed it was a Latin boy band. Turns out, with over 1,000 members representing more than 30 countries, the Barra is considered MLS's largest, most diverse and most rabid fan group. Great, I thought when I learned I'd be hanging out with them in Washington, D.C., for United's game against the Houston Dynamo on June 4. The David Hasselhoff fan club."

Nice, a boy band joke. Immediately, a tone of snobbery from a guy who's barely a leg to stand on.

"My first indication to the contrary came well before kickoff. A driving rain had turned a four-hour trip from Manhattan into six, and I was beginning to wonder if I'd get to see my first soccer game at all. I texted Rob Gillespie, one of Barra's elders, to confirm that the pregame tailgate had been washed out. His answer was succinct: rain or shine."

Mannix' internal dialog: man, I was hoping the rain would stop these public school morons from preparing for the game. That would make sense in my worldview, because of course, while Cleveland Brown fans would adopt a similar mentality when faced with road-clogging snow, I am amazed that any soccer fans in the USA could possibly exhibit the same rabid fanaticism.

"It's amazing what Barra members can do during a tornado watch. They can eat, even when their rolls have turned to mush and the charcoal flames are reduced to a flicker. They can drink, even if their keg cups contain less beer than monsoon. And they can sing. Oh, can they sing. First Vamos United. Then the Barra Brava song. Soon I'm frantically scrolling through my BlackBerry for the lyrics and singing along -- it's addictive.

The Barra takes advantage of a break in the rain to head into RFK Stadium. Rather than seek refuge beneath the overhanging stands members march directly to their section at midfield. They cluster together behind a massive black banner, even though the stadium isn't lacking for seating. As the players emerge, the chants begin again. Everyone on Houston sucks. The refs suck. Cobi Jones sucks. (Never mind that Jones, I learn, played in L.A., retired last year and is not in attendance.)"

Again, more empty set-up. He is surprised and amazed as he continues his de Toqueville-esque observations of soccer fans, who, surprise, are just as fanatic as those who root for the traditional American stable of sports. Heck, he might even be enjoying this!

"After 16 minutes the referees deem the field unplayable and wave the teams out of the muck. The Barra doesn't move. When lightning strikes in the distance, the P.A. announcer tells fans to take cover in the concourse. The Barra chants louder. Only after a personal request from a United official does the Barra relent. An hour later the game is suspended. A few angry Barra members storm the flooded field and are escorted out. The rest leave on their own, hurling profanities."

Yep. We're not leaving early just because of some rain. When was the last time you saw the Marlins retain most of their crowd in the face of a storm?

"As I wade back to the van, water spills from my sneakers at every step. I should be miserable, but I'm not. I'm smiling. American soccer fans are great. If only there were a few more of them."

Excellent! There is hope for this gu---- oh wait. Fuck.

(pause to smash head against wall)

There are fucking hundreds of thousands of them! They clog the NY public soccer rec leagues, amateur clubs all over the country, high school stadiums across the northeast and southwest, MLS stadiums from Los Angeles to Columbus, large sports arenas for Mexico vs. USA, it doesn't fucking matter. Rain or shine, come hell or high water: there are a lot of fucking soccer fans across this nation.

And yet, what did all this prove? Mannix enjoyed a wonderful day out, had a good time, ostensibly enjoyed nothing more than the tailgate and colorful songs (hey, two more things soccer has in common with the major US sports), and he still managed to end on a downer.

Why? Because otherwise his thesis is ruined. Wasn't he supposed to be arguing that he hates soccer? He complains initially that they lack passion, then he spends a day with La Barra Brava, realizes they are passionate, and now his complaint shifts to there not being enough American soccer fans!??!!?!

Christ, is there one editor brave and strong-minded enough to point this out to Sir Mannix?

-----
COMPLAINT NO. 2
There is no strategy
-----
Please, restrain me. My blood pressure is dangerously high by this point. Mannix is off to spend some time with members of the USMNT, and thanks to the surely out-of-context quoted idiocy from Claudio Reyna, Mannix has his golden goose.

Who is Claudio Reyna? The New York Red Bulls had persuaded Reyna to sit with me during the first half of their Thursday night game against Chivas USA at Giants Stadium, so it was probably a good idea to know whom I'd be talking to.

Yep, it would be. Moron.

Reyna, I learned, is the former U.S. captain who had a successful career in Europe before returning to the States to join MLS. (He's currently injured.)

A wise move on his part, considering that the Red Bulls are fucking horrendous.

O.K., here was a man who could talk soccer.

Debatable, but for another time.

Here was a man who could explain how there is more to the game than 20 players running up and down the field. That there's more to scoring goals than one really good player kicking the ball in the general direction of the net -- and hoping it gets past a bunch of guys.

At this point, I'm almost scared to turn the page. It's an obvious set-up, and a horribly, horribly misguided one. It would be easy to look at soccer and think that. It would be easy to look at a Packers/Vikings game without knowing what was going on and thinking the same thing. "Oh, you mean they have to run into that zone at the end and have possession of the ball when they do it? OK, makes sense."

I mean fuck, you could watch an episode of Sex and the City without knowing what was going on, and you're be worried as to why the blond one can never keep her legs closed for more than 11 minutes.

But there isn't, as even Reyna admitted. "Some teams play technically," he said. "Mostly in Europe. But soccer is probably the least coached sport of them all."

Claudio, I swear to the Lord God on high, why would you give him this quote? Are you fucking kidding me? At this point, I cannot see straight.

I think reading this line has caused blindness. Least-coached sport of them all? Are you fucking joking? Perhaps it's because you've lumbered through a mediocre club career that's seen you play for a number of going-nowhere clubs, and that all of your managers have been slobbering idiots.

Soccer requires a lot of tactical coaching considering its wide-open nature. 11 men running around in pursuit of a white ball cannot be left to chaos and chance. It requires discipline in formations, adjustments to suit for player-on-player matchups and markings (just like in the NFL, where teams overload weak DBs or put their tallest WR on the opponent's smallest CB) in order to neutralize the opponent's strength.

You need a marshal on the sidelines to make sure the formation holds in both attack and defense, and that the team's style of play (smooth passing play, or Route 1 play via the long ball, or putting an emphasis on wingers or your #10 who sits right behind the strikers as a libero) is adhered to.

If there are injuries or red cards, the manager has to make adjustments accordingly (or in Domenech's case, shit the bed entirely). Who was sent off? What position did he play? Who do I have on my bench who can ably deputize? Which player/position do I weaken in order to bring on this substitute?

And thanks to the eternal stupidity of Claudio Reyna's soundbite, Chris "Donkey Logic" Mannix has his misconceptions confirmed BY A GUY WHO HAS PLAYED THE GAME FOR OVER A DECADE PROFESSIONALLY.

Seriously... the MLS works so hard to gain legitimacy, and this crocked retard undoes some of that earnest work with a flourish of his mouth.

So let's see how Mannix extrapolates this:

Reyna did turn me on to certain nuances. Spacing is critical, and coaches often shift players into more defensive positions when they have a lead late in games. Up by a goal with the clock winding down against Chivas, Red Bulls midfielder Dave Van den Bergh raced toward the sideline and shouted to New York coach Juan Carlos Osorio to assign someone to "sit on" Chivas midfielder Paulo Nagamura. Osorio sent in defensive-minded midfielder Luke Sassano, who helped New York hang on for the win.

This is simply brilliant writing, AS IT NEGATES WHAT MANNIX HIMSELF JUST QUOTED. Phew. Thank you Claudio. You give him some evidence of coaching in professional soccer, and then it is immediately reinforced by a concrete example of this coaching methodology in action.

Perhaps all is not lost?

Still, Reyna confirmed my belief that soccer is more about individual talent than teamwork. He mentioned former national team striker Brian McBride, whose ability to head a ball in traffic is unmatched.

What do you mean, "still"? He gave you a terrible quote which was then negated, but "still", Reyna negated it again and somehow drove you back to your retarded initial hypothesis? Fuck... I'd love to meet your debate coach.

Individual talent can only get you so far. It's not difficult to find examples of this.

Example 1: my beloved Liverpool FC. They are a team largely driven by 2 players of their first-choice starting XI: Steven Gerrard in midfield, and Fernando Torres up front. These two are tremendously gifted, and have conjured up several fleeting moments of brilliance to bail us out of awful situations.

However, when one or both of them are having a bad game, the entire team struggles, and we end up suffering through 1-1 draws at home to Wigan. It's simple: you can have one or two world-class superstars, but all their talent and potential can't get you the three points every week. It simply doesn't work. Once or twice or thrice a season, but over the long-haul, you require a team effort.

Example 2: the Turkish National Team. Now they are a wonderful example of the other side of a coin: a team driven by several efficient role players with no discernible superstar in sight. They are hard-working and rely on each other to grind out favourable results. No household names, no-one getting paid billions to lounge around in Nike or Adidas commercials, but by-and-large, a successful team.

Example 3: Barcelona. Now they're a fun case study because they're a team full of superstars who rely on individual skill, and yet they have no fucking idea how to work together. The end result in 2007/08? 3rd in the League, semis of the Champions League, beaten both times by Real Madrid during La Liga campaign (1-0 and 4-0 respectively), and failure in both domestic knockout tournaments. Aka, a DISMAL FUCKING SEASON WITH NO WINS OR VICTORIES TO BE PROUD OF.

Mannix, are you getting this yet? Individuals only carry a team so far. The very nature of a TEAM requires that you have more than one player. Did the Cavaliers win the NBA Title? No, of course not. Lebron James can't do the work of 5 players on the court at one time. When was the last World Series win for the Yankees, a team led furiously by an individual who will go down in history as one of the all-time greats, Mr. Alex Rodriguez?

Fuck. Pick the New York Giants. Two or three household names, and a bunch of determined nobodies. And they have a Super Bowl trophy.

The concept is fucking retarded, Mannix. Please, give it up. Give me something better, PLEASE.

And, of course, there's David Beckham, who could ping a paparazzo in the head from 50 yards away if he felt like it. "What Beckham can do with free kicks and corner kicks," says Reyna, "is an art form."

So there is strategy: Get more players like Beckham.

*slumped on the floor dead*

[Ed. Note: it is at this point that LB fell over, probably due to a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. The Likely Lad will deputize in his absence]

Well, in light of LB's demise, allow me to crack on. Chris Mannix will not be allowed any respite!
-----
COMPLAINT NO. 3
It's mind-numbingly dull
---

I want a sport to seize my attention and keep it. My impression: In soccer you can marvel at a pretty goal or a diving save, then go to the bathroom, call your girlfriend, buy a plate of nachos and make it back to your seat before a team crosses midfield again.

Oh, your impression? I see, we had nearly forgotten.

Apart from Mr. Mannix’s ill-conceived notions about football and his general rhetorical cuntiness, there is the issue of his narrative construction.

As now, the reader understands that the words spilling across the page are the writer’s own. They are his opinion. There is no need to continuously restate the point.

Over and again goes the refrain: “to me”… “I thought”… “I’m beginning to get it.” Why then, can this esteemed professional not state his piece without such stunting qualification?

The answer is simple, if not immediately obvious. An argument of this nature must be grounded in the wit or incisive nature of the reporting. When stripped of that, along with any illusion of factual research, there is nothing left but the cliché. In this case, a particularly drab one.

It is important to understand that when a reporter knows something to be true, or has done sufficient research to hold some confidence in his assertions, or, god forbid, uses a telling quote, there is no need to conjure up such a bundle of awkward refrain.

Remove the “My Impression:” from the above cut-out and what you have, simply, is a staid, hopelessly formulaic denunciation of a particular sport. It’s pale and snarky, and worst of all—the one real, unforgivable sin—not funny.

The frequent lulls turned off the crowd. Fans talked about how many beers they planned to drink in the parking lot. Two men sitting in front of me spent 23 minutes of the first half arguing whether the game was being played on natural grass or field turf.

This conversation our correspondent was privy to, that he set his watch to (we’re led to believe), could have only taken place at a soccer match. Correct?

No other sport could driven the spectators into the arms of such inane conversation. The constant, feverish pace of a baseball game would never allow for such idle musing. Or an American football game for that matter.

Fans spend the NFL’s hours of artificial stoppage time discussing what? The intricacies of the Tampa 2 defense? Quantum physics, or the political heritage of Nixon’s Southern Strategy?

No, they get drunk, as many soccer fans do, and bullshit. Sometimes about the game. Sometimes about their wives and girlfriends. And sometimes, maybe even when some creepy geek with string warts is hovering over their shoulders… the cut of the fucking grass.

The world's No. 2-ranked team looked listless, falling behind 63rd-ranked Venezuela and getting booed off the field at halftime. What's worse, they didn't even bring Ronaldinho, the one soccer player whose name I know.

Observe our esteemed reporter, here, delighting in his greedy ignorance! He’s an idiot and will not be bullied into denying it. He is not one to bow before those European quasi-intellectual soccernistas. Here he is with beer, wraparound shades and the virility of youth and narcissism. He’ll make a name for himself yet—the power to awe and incite all bottled up in his little pen.

He is our 21st century nowhere man.

After the final horn sounded in Venezuela's 2-0 victory, the Brazilian fans continued their chanting and singing and drumming on their way out. As amped up as I was by the noise before the game, now it rang hollow. To me, what these fans really enjoyed was being Brazil fans, not watching their team play. It had to have been. No one could have enjoyed that.

Certainly Mr. Mannix has dug his own grave here. He’s crossed the Jester—a rank criticism of what he can’t understand.

If Sports Illustrated is a dying brand, this is the stuff that will fill out its epitaph. Profits have shrunk, and with them the salaries of staff members—those, that is, that have been lucky enough to keep their place.

But rather than stay true to the form that brought the magazine its longstanding acclaim (from some, less so from others… hem/haw), its editors have decided that young writers like Mr. Mannix are where the future lies.

Every notion that strikes his kind is a revelation. For what he cannot fathom—being a Brazil fan—he fashions a sneer. It is not an affliction reserved for him. It is common, indeed. Why Sports Illustrated sees fit to pay him to articulate it is anyone's guess.

Whatever the reasoning, it is misguided at best.

The days of prose poets reporting the news and telling the stories of sport and man may be past, but there will always be a hunger for writing that speaks to the reader as an equal. This piss, condescension in the guise of contrarian's disarmament, may stir up some silly bloggers today. But ultimately it will have all the staying power of a Big Mac in the bulimic's craw.

[Ed. Note: we're skipping #4 because we're aware this is rather long. Also, welcome Precious Roy to the argument. Sterling work ahead!]

-----
COMPLAINT NO. 5
Soccer Players are Wimpy Athletes
---

They don't run; they jog. They don't fall; they dive.

I know what you're doing here. You're going to set up all of these stereotypes about the sport, then have some sort of mini-revelation. Hey, congrats you've been born into the light. Welcome.

Not really.

In fact, consider that your stereotypes are just plain wrong. Like creation science kind of wrong.

Sometimes players do jog. Other times they are on a dead run (and often trying to control a ball while doing it... oh, and a 6'4" 210 pound defender is trying to get them off the ball while this is happening). But if they were on a dead run for 90 minutes, they wouldn't be soccer players, they would be Kenyans.

As for the diving, let's run a little experiment. You take off on a sprint, then I'll come up from behind you and clip you with my spikes. I'll give you, say, $50 (and my undying respect) if you don't hit the ground. I'll double it if you can prevent yourself from responding to the reflex of reaching back to the hole in your Achilles.

They treat contact like an infectious disease.

Actually, that's the opposite of what they do. If they thought it were an infectious disease they would probably shy away from it, or warn other players off them: "Hey, don't tackle me man, I've got a raging case of schistosomiasis, and it would be a total bummer if you caught from me for trying to do something as silly as preventing me from taking a shot on goal. K thx."

These were the biggest preconceptions I took into my final game, a highly anticipated exhibition at Giants Stadium between the U.S. and the world's No. 1, Argentina.

It took a little more than 37 minutes of playing time for me to realize that, well, I was a fool.

That long? I figured out you were a fool about 2 sentences into this article. What was that? Maybe 20 seconds?

A loose ball had squirted free, rolling toward where I had positioned myself, behind the U.S. goal. Argentina's Javier Mascherano and the U.S.'s DaMarcus Beasley gave chase, Mascherano coming away with the ball after cracking Beasley with a hip check that sent the midfielder careening into the boards. I looked up, certain I would see one of those colorful cards come out of the ref's pocket. No foul. Play on.

The action was pulsating. Heads collided. Bodies soared before crashing violently to the grass. True, there was the occasional head-scratching decision. U.S. midfielder Pablo Mastroeni was ejected in the 71st minute, and I'm still wondering why. But show me one bad call in soccer, and I'll show you a reel of NBA ref Dick Bavetta's greatest hits. For 97 minutes the two teams grinded, pressing the action on both ends, engineering fast breaks from 100 yards away. It was the best game of the weekend. And it ended 0-0. Imagine that.

Whoa. Holy fucking cow. A low scoring game, and it was exciting? Unbelievable. I've never heard of such a thing. In fact, even though I watched the same match, I'm still not sure I could have possibly imagined it was both exciting and low scoring. I hadn't realized what a fucking anomaly it was until you just pointed that out to me. Low scoring games have never been exciting before. Never. Instead, I'm going to go ahead and posit that it is metaphysically impossible.

Or it was, before your little revelation.

"The physicality makes it exciting," U.S. defender Heath Pearce told me afterward. "When you're going for the ball and it's between you and another guy, you are going to lay that other guy out to get there first. That's the kind of stuff you really can't appreciate on TV."

Not to get nitpicky, but that's the best quote you got?

Agreed. After five days and six matches I can now say that I enjoy soccer at its best -- though I continue to despise it at its worst. And the biggest problem is that you're as likely to see a mess as a masterpiece. But how do you know going in?

Initially I was tempted to say something like: "Hey, we agree. Awesome, we're so alike when you get right down to it. It's like Sly Stone was saying man. 'I am everyday people' and it's so cool because you are too. Let's sing 'Kum-bay-yah' What do you say?" I mean, soccer at it's best is phenomenal. Boring soccer, yeah, it can be tough to watch.

But that would be stupid of me. Because what you said is true of any fucking sport. You never know going in to any game if it's going to be a blow out or a tense, hard fought, super-deluxe excitement-a-thon of awesomenessly excitable excitingness.

Yeah, bad soccer is bad. Guess what, so it is with other sports. Bad basketball is bad just as bad football is bad. And bad hockey is bad. And bad ice dancing is bad. And bad rugby is bad. Even bad badminton is bad.

[Ed. Note: Bad sex is still alright though. Y'know, because it's sex.]

And anyone who knows going in if a sporting event is going to be good or bad probably shouldn't be trying to make a living as a sportswriter, but instead using those powers of precognitive dissonance for greater good, or even personal enrichment of material wealth (Vegas, baby). Doesn't matter to me if you want to be selfish like that.

Look, nobody is asking anyone to like soccer. You don't like it? Fine. I don't like the NBA. Can't watch it. Any sport where a 30 point 3rd quarter lead is meaningless? Kind of hard to get behind watching that (Not to mention the fact that there are different rules for stars, and that it often takes 10 minutes to play the last 30 seconds, and there is this bizarre provision that let's a team take the ball in at half court after a time out so when the game is on the line late they get to do what might be the baseball equivalent of going straight to second after a base on balls for a team that is trailing in the ninth inning, and my grammar is probably getting atrocious. Anyway... where was I?)

Yeah, people who don't like soccer, or don't think they "get it"? Nobody cares. Or at least the people who love the sport don't. They aren't holding telethons in Europe to raise money to help the silly Americans appreciate the world's most popular sport. I'm not going to call you at 8 am on a Saturday to lobby you to join me at the pub to watch Arsenal play United. You're probably sleeping, I'm not that rude, and, frankly, I'd rather be able to get a good seat at the bar, so the fewer people the better.

So, yippee, Mr. Mannix, you gave it a chance. I baked some rather delicious banana bread last night.

If you want a piece, it's yours for your efforts. Only you have to come get it because I'm not making any effort for you, or for your silly little crash course, or for anyone else who thinks they have to explain why they don't like it or feel obligated to become a social scientist seeking to undercover what it is about the rest of the world that separates us over this one activity.

The rest of the world also eats more Nutella.

Or maybe they don't. But I am sure there are other things that we don't all agree on or do differently.

So anyone else who wants to give soccer a chance, great. It's there for the sampling. If you like it, I'll see you in August when the EPL season starts. If not, shut up. Save for my abbreviated rant above, I don't go around spouting off about what sports I don't watch and why, then come to conclusions which are inanely universal.

Wait, what's that? The U.S. is playing a World Cup qualifier two weeks from now -- in Barbados? Hold the presses: I think I have one game left!

Journalism Fail! Sorry, no trip for you. Do not pass 'Go,' etc.

Written by Darkvader on June 20th, 2008 with no comments.
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