I am belligerent.
I went on hiatus completely unannounced, leaving you to fend completely for yourselves. While the words coming from Tony Kornheiser’s beard attacked our beloved sport and all it stands for, I did not reply. No. Instead, I sat back on my sofa and ate an especially spongy Twinkie.
Selfish? You bet. And while Jim Rome or and his soccer bashing colleagues were singing in the Kornheiser choir, what was I doing? Watching The Secret Life of the American Teenager marathon on ABC Family. Seriously.
Needless to say, I’ve got a lot of contrition to undertake. Lucky for me (and maybe you too), I’ve already started. Here are some presents…just for you!*
(*Both videos courtesy of my buddy Tony Biscaia from Breakersnet.com)
And here you go...my YouTube premiere!
***
In all seriousness, it wasn’t just the pastry-eating or the teen-drama viewing that kept me away from the compy. Rather, it was a hefty essay on literary theory that had me (as well as my fellow classmates) drowning in research, writing, and general frustration. School. It does that to you sometimes.
Anyway, with all that temporarily out of the way this week*, today was Monday, and despite the rain clouds hanging over the Boston-metro area, it was a splendid, gorgeous day!
(*Drafts of said paper were due on Sunday. Finished drafts are due next week. God help me.)
I mean, who needs the sun or temperatures above 40 when you’ve got Breakers Media Day? Not I, and certainly not many of my friends and colleagues who were there as well.
Now, I missed Breakers 1.0. In those days, I was simply too busy playing Madden ’02, ghosthunting*, and eating in The Bell’s parking lot at 1am. Important stuff for me. Women’s soccer? What is that?
(*That's how I rolled back in junior college. I mean, what else is there to do when you're broke, bored, and....broke? Why, jump in your mom's car, pick up some friends, and look for some earthbound spirits in the boonies. Good times for all!)
Lucikly, in the years since, I’ve gained the requisite knowledge (not to mention maturity – that was pretty key) to acclimate myself with women’s professional soccer. And boy am I thankful for it.
Because here’s what I should have been doing today. Drink coffee. Send out a letter. Enter a check request. Drink another coffee. Send out a letter. Enter a check request.And wait! What’s this? Answer a phone call? Wow, what a day!
Instead, I bypassed all that excitement in favor of something far more intriguing, and, yeah, a lot more fun. There, I said it. Today was fun.
You know why? Because I got to lounge around with a bunch of soccer players at Harvard. Really. Yours truly, a wannabe reporter who refuses to drop the “wannabe” from his title, was chillaxin’ with some of the world’s best female footballers. It just so happens that I had a voice recorder* to document it for progeny.
(*Oh man, this thing in my pocket the kids call "the Blackberry Curve" is awesome. Just as I was crossing the state line into Massachusetts, I suddenly remembered that I left my voice recorder at home. Per my personal protocol, I was running late as it was, and going back to retrieve it would've made for an embarrassingly late entrance. Enter the Curve, with it's truly blessed voice note recorder. Thank you, Qualcomm and your pack of super genius employees.)
Say what you will about women’s football. I know it’s something not everyone is exactly gaga about. But let me tell you: these footballers, all of them, whether they’re from the US, England, Brazil or China, deserve a chance to play professionally in the States just as their male counterparts do. You simply cannot convince me otherwise.
After all, did these players not work just as hard for their dreams? Did they not make the same sacrifices? Did they not willingly bypass the parties, social events and college fun all in the hopes of becoming better players?
That’s why I admire these women just as much, if not more, than their male peers. They’re playing in a league that is in no way guaranteed to be here two years from now. You know why? Because this is their dream. Even players like Kelly Smith and Alex Scott, both of whom played at Arsenal, left that storied brand to play here. It’s the reason why rookies like Ariel Harris and Alison Lipsher have decided to play miles away from home. It’s the reason why the most capped player in the world – Kristine Lilly – refuses to call it a career at age 37.
You might think that I would blabber on about how this more than just a league, this is opportunity, and blah blah blah. I would. But I already have. So I’ll just close by saying this.
Don’t give this league a chance. Don’t give the term “professional women’s soccer” a chance. Don’t even give the idea – however crazy some may think it – of women footballers a chance.
Rather, give Alex Scott a chance. She’s a darn good footballer. I’ve been fortunate enough to seen her play. She’ll make almost anyone wearing boots look silly, male or female. Give Marta a shot. I mean, Kobe Bryant has already. Do you think you’re above him in that regard? And please, for God’s sakes, if you haven’t already, give Kristine Lilly a look. She IS women’s football. I mean, c’mon, if you haven’t already by now, where the heck have you been? Conferring in a cave with the Taliban?
Forget labels. Labels only serve to cast one as better than another. I get it. EPL is better than MLS. European football is better than North American football. Men’s soccer is better than women’s soccer.
You know what I say? Forget that. Forget the conventional wisdom. Forget the fact that certain notions only exist because there still exists an innumerable amount of closed minds. Forget labels. Give people a chance.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Revs-Earthquakes Live blog
Spur of the moment decision. Here's a live blog for your bad (or good) self...
Okay, so it's raining, and my Cox 3 feed is contributing some snow...ugh.
10:38am - And we're off...San Jose kicks off. The 2009 MLS season commences for the Revs (and San Jose). Both teams in a 4-4-2.
2' - Buck Shaw Stadium - good crowd noise, high school football stadium atmoopshere. One out of two ain't bad.
5' - Wells Thompson feeds a nice ball to Kheli Dube, who fires it off the hand of Joe Cannon. CK Revs.
6' - Shalrie Joseph with a nice chance on goal off the head, but Cannon's there.
8' - Obligatory Jay Heaps praise poured on by Greg Lalas.
9' - Even though I just knocked Buck Shaw for being kinda minor league-ish, I'd imagine it's a great place to watch a soccer game. Crowd's pretty spirited. Feel free to send airline ticket offers in the comment box.
10' - Quakes attack, but Darrius Barnes and Heaps snuff it out. I'm a big fan of Barnes, simply because no one but Steve Nicol gave him a shot to make the club.
12' - Both clubs still looking to wet their beaks. Not feet. Beaks. Yes, I was just watching The Godfather II.
13' - Wait...is Barnes is preggers? Oh wait, he's just drying the ball. My b....and holy crap, that kid can fire a throw-in. Good thing it wasn't a baby.
14' - Whoa, Kheli Dube seems to have abandoned the mini-dreds from last season. He's sporting a very closely-cropped cut. Looks good.
16' - Though sixteen minutes, Kevin Alston is showing why he warranted a first round selection. This kid's going to Oneonta. You heard it here first.
17' - Larentowicz upended by Weaver. Good tackle.
18' - Second CK for the Revs. Nyassi's taking it from the right. Inswinger...San Jose heads it away.
19' - Nice shot, Cam Weaver. Brilliant finish.
20' - OUCH. Ramon Corrales takes one off the kisser. God I hate when that happens. Dude's head probably feels like a bulging watermelon. Seriously, that's what it feels like. It feels like your head's a pulsating watermelon.
22' - Revs putting something together....can they sustain it? Can they hit cherry cherry cherry?
23' - No. Goalkick for Joe Cannon.
24' - Quote of the match from Greg Lalas regarding Dube's mid-season injury, and his slowing a recovery: "You know that's when the Revs needed him not to struggle." Because, you know, there are times when they needed him to struggle. Like, maybe the match before the All-Star Game. Or a random U.S. Open Cup match.
26' - Arturo Alvarez just slaloms though the defense and nearly feeds Huckerby a sure goal, but fails to convert.
28' - Another Lalas gem: "Chase that lost cause." Meanwhile, Huckerby nearly sets the table for Ryan Johnson, but the ball skips away.
29' - Quakes earn a corner. Johnson threatens with a header that squeaks over the bar. Quakes beginning to dictate the match just at the half hour.
30' - Weaver's finishing has just improved remarkably, but the shot goes off the bar while collecting Alvarez's rebound. Should be 1-0 San Jose. It isn't. Fewf.
31' - Reis collects Quake corner. Revs need to regroup...fast.
11:11pm ET - *Make a wish* I wish that Michael Parkhurst was suddenly loaned back to the Revolution.
35' - Heaps with a free kick from distance. Taken in vain.
37' - Ball back in the Quakes' end. Boy am I glad those three whole preseason matches worked out the kinks! I was worried a little bit.
39' - CK SJ taken by AA (Arturo Alvarez). Chris Leitch open. And Chris Leitch can't convert.
42' - Larentowicz free kick from distance. No dice.
42' - Seconds later, Joseph gets the ball, tries a shot, deflection goes toward Thompson, but can't finish. Good opportunity for the Revs.
43' - What??? Joseph flicks a quick free kick, and somehow, outside of the camera, Thompson nearly sneaks a ball over Cannon. I have no idea how that happened. It was like it happened in a void.
45' - One minute of stoppage. J/K!!! It lasts just 20 seconds.
HALFTIME*
(*Man, this snowy screen is wreaking havoc on my vision. Imagine having to watch a soccer on a 1978 Magnavox with broken bunny ears. And then having to accurately blog on it. Two words: Bull. Spit.)
Oh. No. Not this commercial.
That's it. This snow sucks. I'm MLSnet.com Match Centering this bad boy. $19.95 well-spent. Until...
NOT. AGAIN.
11:39 ET Revs kick off for Half Two. Wow, the feed is incredible. Best twnty buck's I've spent since...since...I spent the same amount for last year's league pass.
46' - Rain's apparently subsided.
48' - Spoke to soon. It's a science.
49' - CK for SJ. AA. Outswinger out of the reach of everyone
50' - CK # 5, SJ. Matt Reis looks like he's thinking of a good joke.
51' - All San Jose.
54' - CK SJ. Nice corner, Huck. Really?
55' - Counterattack Revs. Larentowicz sends a ball that bounces off of Kelly Gray's head and falls to Dube. Dube...WITH THE FINISH. ALERT! ALERT! KHELI DUBE IS DOING HIS GOAL DANCE. DUBE. GOAL DANCE. 1-0, Revs. Just like that.
58' - Convey, in space, Huckerby. Revs clear it out. Quakes corner.
59' - Kenny Mansally clears it out. Another SJ CK.
60' - If this were a boxing match, the judges would have awarded the Quakes the first 7 or so rounds. Luckily, this isn't boxing, and the Rules of Queensbury are not honored in MLS.
63' - Near fatal error by the Revs, leaves Huckerby with an untended net ahead of him. Revs scamper to snuff the shot.
65' - Mansally well offside. Still have trouble believing the Revs are actually winning this thing.
66' - Quincy Amarikwa skips one wide. He's an amateur magician, according to the SJ feed. "We'd like to see him pull one out of his hat, now wouldn't we?" Um, no.
68' - Second magician reference. Note to announcers: magicians have nothing to do with soccer. And vice versa.
70' - Revs controlling. Mansally's well-off target with his service. Goal kick, SJ.
71' - What's this? A Revs CK? NO WAI!!!
71' - Horrible corner from Nyassi. Thing swerved completely away from a single live body.
71' - Amarikwa takes a nice cross from Salinas, but the volley escapes wide. I guess you could say Amarikwa's opportunity went...poof? LOL!
75' - Alston gets his "welcome to the league" moment when he orders a knee sandwich near midfield. Seems to be OK.
76' - Huckerby dances. Dances. Shoots. Deflection. All dancing, no scoring. Sounds like a typical Saturday night for yours truly.
78' - CK NE. What the heck is Shalrie doing on the flank???
79' -Mansally with the corner. Eaten up by the Quakes.
80' - Nyassi brushes up on the theatrics, and gets SJ a yellow.
81' - Larentowicz free kick skips wide of the post.
83' - San Jose have now used all three subs. The Revs starting XI still intact.
84' - San Jose CK # 739. Huckerby with the shot. Miss. If there is a man in San Jose more frustrated than Darren Huckerby tonight, please, get him some Cialis.
86' - Pablo Campos with a prime opportunity. Heads the ball wide. Jeez, how unlucky can one team be? Wow. Just wow.
89' - Amaechi Igwe on for the Revs, replaces Alston. Speedy Gen adidas back for another speedy Gen adidas back.
90' - Joe Cannon nearly gives it away to the Revs just before the line.
12:24 ET Three minutes of stoppage.
92+' - Quakes pressuring, as usual. Reis smothers it. Nice tackle, for Barnes. A near brawl ensures in the Revolution box. No call.
93'+ - San Jose thows it in from the right. Campos head the ball skyward.
94' + - CK SJ. Cleared away.
12:28 ET - Final whistle. New England escapes with three points. Chants of "REFS-SUCK, REFS-SUCK!" echo onto the pitch. They - the Revs - should be thanking the Deity that they didn't receive what should have been an embarrassing - OMG! WHAT THE HECK is that thing walking by Joe Cannon in the post-match presser?!?
Three penny analysis: Revs never even came close to controlling this match. A jump-start counterattack proved to be the decider. To paraphrase a famous line from Super Bowl XIII: "Oh, bless the Quakes' hearts! They have to be the sickest soccer club in America."
Okay, so it's raining, and my Cox 3 feed is contributing some snow...ugh.
10:38am - And we're off...San Jose kicks off. The 2009 MLS season commences for the Revs (and San Jose). Both teams in a 4-4-2.
2' - Buck Shaw Stadium - good crowd noise, high school football stadium atmoopshere. One out of two ain't bad.
5' - Wells Thompson feeds a nice ball to Kheli Dube, who fires it off the hand of Joe Cannon. CK Revs.
6' - Shalrie Joseph with a nice chance on goal off the head, but Cannon's there.
8' - Obligatory Jay Heaps praise poured on by Greg Lalas.
9' - Even though I just knocked Buck Shaw for being kinda minor league-ish, I'd imagine it's a great place to watch a soccer game. Crowd's pretty spirited. Feel free to send airline ticket offers in the comment box.
10' - Quakes attack, but Darrius Barnes and Heaps snuff it out. I'm a big fan of Barnes, simply because no one but Steve Nicol gave him a shot to make the club.
12' - Both clubs still looking to wet their beaks. Not feet. Beaks. Yes, I was just watching The Godfather II.
13' - Wait...is Barnes is preggers? Oh wait, he's just drying the ball. My b....and holy crap, that kid can fire a throw-in. Good thing it wasn't a baby.
14' - Whoa, Kheli Dube seems to have abandoned the mini-dreds from last season. He's sporting a very closely-cropped cut. Looks good.
16' - Though sixteen minutes, Kevin Alston is showing why he warranted a first round selection. This kid's going to Oneonta. You heard it here first.
17' - Larentowicz upended by Weaver. Good tackle.
18' - Second CK for the Revs. Nyassi's taking it from the right. Inswinger...San Jose heads it away.
19' - Nice shot, Cam Weaver. Brilliant finish.
20' - OUCH. Ramon Corrales takes one off the kisser. God I hate when that happens. Dude's head probably feels like a bulging watermelon. Seriously, that's what it feels like. It feels like your head's a pulsating watermelon.
22' - Revs putting something together....can they sustain it? Can they hit cherry cherry cherry?
23' - No. Goalkick for Joe Cannon.
24' - Quote of the match from Greg Lalas regarding Dube's mid-season injury, and his slowing a recovery: "You know that's when the Revs needed him not to struggle." Because, you know, there are times when they needed him to struggle. Like, maybe the match before the All-Star Game. Or a random U.S. Open Cup match.
26' - Arturo Alvarez just slaloms though the defense and nearly feeds Huckerby a sure goal, but fails to convert.
28' - Another Lalas gem: "Chase that lost cause." Meanwhile, Huckerby nearly sets the table for Ryan Johnson, but the ball skips away.
29' - Quakes earn a corner. Johnson threatens with a header that squeaks over the bar. Quakes beginning to dictate the match just at the half hour.
30' - Weaver's finishing has just improved remarkably, but the shot goes off the bar while collecting Alvarez's rebound. Should be 1-0 San Jose. It isn't. Fewf.
31' - Reis collects Quake corner. Revs need to regroup...fast.
11:11pm ET - *Make a wish* I wish that Michael Parkhurst was suddenly loaned back to the Revolution.
35' - Heaps with a free kick from distance. Taken in vain.
37' - Ball back in the Quakes' end. Boy am I glad those three whole preseason matches worked out the kinks! I was worried a little bit.
39' - CK SJ taken by AA (Arturo Alvarez). Chris Leitch open. And Chris Leitch can't convert.
42' - Larentowicz free kick from distance. No dice.
42' - Seconds later, Joseph gets the ball, tries a shot, deflection goes toward Thompson, but can't finish. Good opportunity for the Revs.
43' - What??? Joseph flicks a quick free kick, and somehow, outside of the camera, Thompson nearly sneaks a ball over Cannon. I have no idea how that happened. It was like it happened in a void.
45' - One minute of stoppage. J/K!!! It lasts just 20 seconds.
HALFTIME*
(*Man, this snowy screen is wreaking havoc on my vision. Imagine having to watch a soccer on a 1978 Magnavox with broken bunny ears. And then having to accurately blog on it. Two words: Bull. Spit.)
Oh. No. Not this commercial.
That's it. This snow sucks. I'm MLSnet.com Match Centering this bad boy. $19.95 well-spent. Until...
NOT. AGAIN.
11:39 ET Revs kick off for Half Two. Wow, the feed is incredible. Best twnty buck's I've spent since...since...I spent the same amount for last year's league pass.
46' - Rain's apparently subsided.
48' - Spoke to soon. It's a science.
49' - CK for SJ. AA. Outswinger out of the reach of everyone
50' - CK # 5, SJ. Matt Reis looks like he's thinking of a good joke.
51' - All San Jose.
54' - CK SJ. Nice corner, Huck. Really?
55' - Counterattack Revs. Larentowicz sends a ball that bounces off of Kelly Gray's head and falls to Dube. Dube...WITH THE FINISH. ALERT! ALERT! KHELI DUBE IS DOING HIS GOAL DANCE. DUBE. GOAL DANCE. 1-0, Revs. Just like that.
58' - Convey, in space, Huckerby. Revs clear it out. Quakes corner.
59' - Kenny Mansally clears it out. Another SJ CK.
60' - If this were a boxing match, the judges would have awarded the Quakes the first 7 or so rounds. Luckily, this isn't boxing, and the Rules of Queensbury are not honored in MLS.
63' - Near fatal error by the Revs, leaves Huckerby with an untended net ahead of him. Revs scamper to snuff the shot.
65' - Mansally well offside. Still have trouble believing the Revs are actually winning this thing.
66' - Quincy Amarikwa skips one wide. He's an amateur magician, according to the SJ feed. "We'd like to see him pull one out of his hat, now wouldn't we?" Um, no.
68' - Second magician reference. Note to announcers: magicians have nothing to do with soccer. And vice versa.
70' - Revs controlling. Mansally's well-off target with his service. Goal kick, SJ.
71' - What's this? A Revs CK? NO WAI!!!
71' - Horrible corner from Nyassi. Thing swerved completely away from a single live body.
71' - Amarikwa takes a nice cross from Salinas, but the volley escapes wide. I guess you could say Amarikwa's opportunity went...poof? LOL!
75' - Alston gets his "welcome to the league" moment when he orders a knee sandwich near midfield. Seems to be OK.
76' - Huckerby dances. Dances. Shoots. Deflection. All dancing, no scoring. Sounds like a typical Saturday night for yours truly.
78' - CK NE. What the heck is Shalrie doing on the flank???
79' -Mansally with the corner. Eaten up by the Quakes.
80' - Nyassi brushes up on the theatrics, and gets SJ a yellow.
81' - Larentowicz free kick skips wide of the post.
83' - San Jose have now used all three subs. The Revs starting XI still intact.
84' - San Jose CK # 739. Huckerby with the shot. Miss. If there is a man in San Jose more frustrated than Darren Huckerby tonight, please, get him some Cialis.
86' - Pablo Campos with a prime opportunity. Heads the ball wide. Jeez, how unlucky can one team be? Wow. Just wow.
89' - Amaechi Igwe on for the Revs, replaces Alston. Speedy Gen adidas back for another speedy Gen adidas back.
90' - Joe Cannon nearly gives it away to the Revs just before the line.
12:24 ET Three minutes of stoppage.
92+' - Quakes pressuring, as usual. Reis smothers it. Nice tackle, for Barnes. A near brawl ensures in the Revolution box. No call.
93'+ - San Jose thows it in from the right. Campos head the ball skyward.
94' + - CK SJ. Cleared away.
12:28 ET - Final whistle. New England escapes with three points. Chants of "REFS-SUCK, REFS-SUCK!" echo onto the pitch. They - the Revs - should be thanking the Deity that they didn't receive what should have been an embarrassing - OMG! WHAT THE HECK is that thing walking by Joe Cannon in the post-match presser?!?
Three penny analysis: Revs never even came close to controlling this match. A jump-start counterattack proved to be the decider. To paraphrase a famous line from Super Bowl XIII: "Oh, bless the Quakes' hearts! They have to be the sickest soccer club in America."
Friday, March 20, 2009
(Rapid) expansion is bad
Okay, so I feel an explanation is in order. For the past month or so, I’ve hinted at my displeasure for MLS expansion. I’ve briefly submitted that the league should “cool its heels” in expanding. But that’s really it. So, here goes nothing.
No, I am not in favor of this current wave of rapid MLS expansion. I mean, does MLS actually watch the news? Does it know that we’re in a global recession, one in which many forecasters have warned hasn’t hit its nadir? Investing in expansion side is like playing the stock market; you’re betting on the future, not the present. And right now, that future is hardly anything but a sure thing.
Another point hasn't been widely discussed. That issue is the potentially damaging effects expansion has on the current talent pool. This league has a few very good players, but its caliber of play still needs improvement if it wishes to become a first-tier league in the global community. Would it be better to have 12 really sound teams than 18 mediocre teams? I certainly think so.
Is it wise to develop potential National Team members in a talent-thinned league? And do we continue to simply allow the exportation of our best collegiate players abroad while MLS still can’t offer them reasonable contracts because they’re too busy paying out contracts to less talented players just to meet each club’s roster quota? I think these are questions that need to be considered before the league’s level of talent nosedives into League One depths.
And while we’re on the subject of paying players, how do you explain such growth and prosperity to guys making $20,000 annually? I can tell you based on past conversations with MLS players on developmental deals that there is growing resentment toward the growingly-gluttonous league. Some are wishing they'd signed with a USL club or simply continued their education. The idea of expansion while so many make less than a schoolteacher’s salary is an absolute farce, and a slap in the face to so many players. Instead of devoting vast sums of energy and money toward expanding its waistline, the league would be keen to take care of its own before overextending itself to outsiders.
Speaking of taking care of its own, it’ll be interesting to see how much MLS becomes caters to these newcomers when some of its own clubs are already hurting. FC Dallas is struggling to sell tickets; the situation in Kansas City isn’t that much better. Even amajor market like New York, with the backing of a multimillion globally-recognized brand, is struggling at the gates. And those whispers of inflated attendance figures don’t seem to be hushing anyime soon.
Heck, even the newly-granted Philadelphia club is searching for thick-walleted investors as it struggles to get its act together with just over one year to get itself ready for league play. Yeah, instability before the first player signing is the hallmark expansion success.
Aside from these overblown and joyous press conferences, what has the league achieved in expansion? Sure, the success of Toronto and Seattle appear to be the arguments for the pro-expansion crowd. And that’s fine. But let’s not ignore the realities.
The hard realities include the already-documented monetary troubles of every one of the Big Four. They include stagnant ticket sales despite the promise of swollen stadiums that David Beckham’s arrival was supposed to bring. They include embarrassing television ratings. And let’s not forget the current economic troubles here in the United States, specifically. Americans are already finding themselves squeezed out of pro sports. Who’s to say that conditions will improve by the time these expansion clubs hit the pitch?
The thing is, I’m not against expansion on its face. I’m all for the growth of soccer here in the States. But I won’t sit back and pretend it’s all good while MLS players are starving off of meager salaries, while clubs continue to lose money, or while the entire planet is staring down a long and treacherous road to economic recovery. To think that somehow MLS is remarkably immune to these harsh realities is preposterous.
Expansion has to be undertaken with a great deal of precision rather than speed. It should be methodical, and not rash. It’s folly to believe that MLS won’t at all be affected by the current economic crisis. The ambitious rate of expansion that MLS has employed should be troubling to anyone who’s learned from American soccer’s past.
And therein lies the irony. When MLS was launched, one of its primary objectives was to avoid the pitfalls that doomed the NASL. One of those very pitfalls was rapid expansion. And yet, here we are today, pushing forward into the same markets that failed in NASL only a generation ago.
Don't get me wrong; I love soccer. I want expansion, but only if it's done wisely and methodically. I want MLS to succeed. But I also want my kids to be able to enjoy this league for years to come, and not have to grow up without a major professional league, the same way I did.
No, I am not in favor of this current wave of rapid MLS expansion. I mean, does MLS actually watch the news? Does it know that we’re in a global recession, one in which many forecasters have warned hasn’t hit its nadir? Investing in expansion side is like playing the stock market; you’re betting on the future, not the present. And right now, that future is hardly anything but a sure thing.
Another point hasn't been widely discussed. That issue is the potentially damaging effects expansion has on the current talent pool. This league has a few very good players, but its caliber of play still needs improvement if it wishes to become a first-tier league in the global community. Would it be better to have 12 really sound teams than 18 mediocre teams? I certainly think so.
Is it wise to develop potential National Team members in a talent-thinned league? And do we continue to simply allow the exportation of our best collegiate players abroad while MLS still can’t offer them reasonable contracts because they’re too busy paying out contracts to less talented players just to meet each club’s roster quota? I think these are questions that need to be considered before the league’s level of talent nosedives into League One depths.
And while we’re on the subject of paying players, how do you explain such growth and prosperity to guys making $20,000 annually? I can tell you based on past conversations with MLS players on developmental deals that there is growing resentment toward the growingly-gluttonous league. Some are wishing they'd signed with a USL club or simply continued their education. The idea of expansion while so many make less than a schoolteacher’s salary is an absolute farce, and a slap in the face to so many players. Instead of devoting vast sums of energy and money toward expanding its waistline, the league would be keen to take care of its own before overextending itself to outsiders.
Speaking of taking care of its own, it’ll be interesting to see how much MLS becomes caters to these newcomers when some of its own clubs are already hurting. FC Dallas is struggling to sell tickets; the situation in Kansas City isn’t that much better. Even amajor market like New York, with the backing of a multimillion globally-recognized brand, is struggling at the gates. And those whispers of inflated attendance figures don’t seem to be hushing anyime soon.
Heck, even the newly-granted Philadelphia club is searching for thick-walleted investors as it struggles to get its act together with just over one year to get itself ready for league play. Yeah, instability before the first player signing is the hallmark expansion success.
Aside from these overblown and joyous press conferences, what has the league achieved in expansion? Sure, the success of Toronto and Seattle appear to be the arguments for the pro-expansion crowd. And that’s fine. But let’s not ignore the realities.
The hard realities include the already-documented monetary troubles of every one of the Big Four. They include stagnant ticket sales despite the promise of swollen stadiums that David Beckham’s arrival was supposed to bring. They include embarrassing television ratings. And let’s not forget the current economic troubles here in the United States, specifically. Americans are already finding themselves squeezed out of pro sports. Who’s to say that conditions will improve by the time these expansion clubs hit the pitch?
The thing is, I’m not against expansion on its face. I’m all for the growth of soccer here in the States. But I won’t sit back and pretend it’s all good while MLS players are starving off of meager salaries, while clubs continue to lose money, or while the entire planet is staring down a long and treacherous road to economic recovery. To think that somehow MLS is remarkably immune to these harsh realities is preposterous.
Expansion has to be undertaken with a great deal of precision rather than speed. It should be methodical, and not rash. It’s folly to believe that MLS won’t at all be affected by the current economic crisis. The ambitious rate of expansion that MLS has employed should be troubling to anyone who’s learned from American soccer’s past.
And therein lies the irony. When MLS was launched, one of its primary objectives was to avoid the pitfalls that doomed the NASL. One of those very pitfalls was rapid expansion. And yet, here we are today, pushing forward into the same markets that failed in NASL only a generation ago.
Don't get me wrong; I love soccer. I want expansion, but only if it's done wisely and methodically. I want MLS to succeed. But I also want my kids to be able to enjoy this league for years to come, and not have to grow up without a major professional league, the same way I did.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
A club arrives, and a star is born
Talk about making an entrance.
Before a jam-packed park and a national audience, the Seattle Sounders announced their arrival with a band of resounding trumpets and horns, as they simply outshined Red Bull New York to the tune of 3-0.
A result that only the bravest of optimists could have forecasted, the Sounders growing pains last approximately twelve minutes.
Although New Yok initially took the role of aggressor, the home club wasted little time wetting its feel. After a fight for the ball at the top of the area, Sebastien Le Teoux deferred to a forgotten Fredy Montero on the right. The Colombian, calm as ever, took the feed and promptly snuck a shot under the grasp of Danny Cepero for the opening salvo.
It was a preview of coming attractions. For much of the night, the Sounders played above their expansion status. Brad Evans victimized Cepero with a resourceful nutmeg that squeeked though for the second goal of the match, giving Seattle an astounding two-goal lead in the first half.
Goalscoring was only a part of the story. For much of the match, the men in green displayed the acumen of an experienced, battle-tested side.
And the man responsible for that was none other than Sigi Schmid, the very manager who's led two separate clubs to postseason spoils. There was little doubt that the quality of the product on the pitch was due to the Schmid's reputation as a master of preparation.
Though New York barrelled though the Seattle backs on a pair of occasions after the hour, Kasey Keller, the local hero, showed rose to the occasion when needed.
The Red Bull pressure turned out to be a brief hiccup. The Sounders quickly rediscovered their form after Montero, the man of the match, pilfered the ball in the middle, aced toward goal, cooly finished cooly stroked it into the twine for the brace.
For the Seattle faithful, it was an unforgettable night. A comprehensive victory over a defending conference champion, and the birth of MLS's newest star, provided Sounders supporters with a night they'll never forget.
Before a jam-packed park and a national audience, the Seattle Sounders announced their arrival with a band of resounding trumpets and horns, as they simply outshined Red Bull New York to the tune of 3-0.
A result that only the bravest of optimists could have forecasted, the Sounders growing pains last approximately twelve minutes.
Although New Yok initially took the role of aggressor, the home club wasted little time wetting its feel. After a fight for the ball at the top of the area, Sebastien Le Teoux deferred to a forgotten Fredy Montero on the right. The Colombian, calm as ever, took the feed and promptly snuck a shot under the grasp of Danny Cepero for the opening salvo.
It was a preview of coming attractions. For much of the night, the Sounders played above their expansion status. Brad Evans victimized Cepero with a resourceful nutmeg that squeeked though for the second goal of the match, giving Seattle an astounding two-goal lead in the first half.
Goalscoring was only a part of the story. For much of the match, the men in green displayed the acumen of an experienced, battle-tested side.
And the man responsible for that was none other than Sigi Schmid, the very manager who's led two separate clubs to postseason spoils. There was little doubt that the quality of the product on the pitch was due to the Schmid's reputation as a master of preparation.
Though New York barrelled though the Seattle backs on a pair of occasions after the hour, Kasey Keller, the local hero, showed rose to the occasion when needed.
The Red Bull pressure turned out to be a brief hiccup. The Sounders quickly rediscovered their form after Montero, the man of the match, pilfered the ball in the middle, aced toward goal, cooly finished cooly stroked it into the twine for the brace.
For the Seattle faithful, it was an unforgettable night. A comprehensive victory over a defending conference champion, and the birth of MLS's newest star, provided Sounders supporters with a night they'll never forget.
Writer's block
Must...move...this...BLOCK!!!
Oh man. I've wanted to write something really cool, you know, something really witty and smart about tonight's Seattle-New York/East Coast vs. West Coast/Sir-Mix-a-Lot vs. Jay-Z/ high profile clash. It's just that, well, I keep fluffin' stumbling. I can't seem to focus my thoughts through. I find myself with two paragraphs before I become completely disenchanted with the brilliant idea I just spawned seconds ago.
I want to convey excitement, but I can't seem to articulate myself in a manner in which you would still believe that A. I am familar with the English language, B. I have attained a degree from a recognized higher instituiton of learning, and C. I have read books without pictures in them. But darn! DARN IT! I just CAN'T!
Tonight's match is something I've looked forward to since last year's MLS Cup, especially because I get to see neon green splashed on an MLS side. There's something about that color that invokes childhood memories. I think it's Ninja Turtles. It was that retro-mutagen ooze that turned them into man-turtles, I believe. Ever since then, I've always had an affinity for the color. It's just unique. I love it. So does Seattle. So thank you, Seattle, for loving neon green enough to make your footballers wear it all the time.
I also feel that the Red Bulls should be forced to wear Cosmos kits so that the old Sounders-Cosmos in homage to the NASL rivalry that spraked up a few years before I joined this planet. I love history. I love soccer. I hate the name Red Bull New York. I am mad about this.
But not mad enough to stay away from the TV tonight to watch. Of course, as a red blooded soccer fan, I'm rooting for the Sounders. I want to see them win. I'm sure the league wants the same, although I doubt any league official will say so publicly.
I'm not sure if my dad will accompany me for the match. It kicks off at 9pm Eastern, so it may require some caffeinated beverages to keep him awake. He works long hours. I forgive him. Plus, he's good sport about it. He knows I'd rather watch with him rather than being couched in front of the TV alone. Dads are the best. My dad is the best of the best.
I have a seven page paper on philosophical discourses due next week. My prof wants a rough draft of it by tonight. I'm hoping that the phrase "by tonight" can be construed as "anytime between dusk and the following dawn," which will give me a good 6-7 hours after the match to e-mail it to him. I don't know why you would care about this, but I'm too lazy to press the delete button.
Anyway, if you're still with me, congratulations. You are a true friend of not only me, but of every troubled soul who follows soccer. I am indebted for your support. As a reward, here's a prediction:
Sounders 2.0, Red Bulls 3.14159265358979323846…
Doesn't make sense? Oh wait, J/K! LMAO!!! ;-)
OK, for real. Sounders 1, Red Bulls 1.
An own goal will occur because, quite frankly, I'm really in the mood for one. It'll provide an opportunity for my dad to laugh and say, "Brian, why do they pay these guys? Can't even score in the the right goal!" to which I'll say "Why do they pay me? I can't even carry an argument beyond two grafs!"
End.
Oh man. I've wanted to write something really cool, you know, something really witty and smart about tonight's Seattle-New York/East Coast vs. West Coast/Sir-Mix-a-Lot vs. Jay-Z/ high profile clash. It's just that, well, I keep fluffin' stumbling. I can't seem to focus my thoughts through. I find myself with two paragraphs before I become completely disenchanted with the brilliant idea I just spawned seconds ago.
I want to convey excitement, but I can't seem to articulate myself in a manner in which you would still believe that A. I am familar with the English language, B. I have attained a degree from a recognized higher instituiton of learning, and C. I have read books without pictures in them. But darn! DARN IT! I just CAN'T!
Tonight's match is something I've looked forward to since last year's MLS Cup, especially because I get to see neon green splashed on an MLS side. There's something about that color that invokes childhood memories. I think it's Ninja Turtles. It was that retro-mutagen ooze that turned them into man-turtles, I believe. Ever since then, I've always had an affinity for the color. It's just unique. I love it. So does Seattle. So thank you, Seattle, for loving neon green enough to make your footballers wear it all the time.
I also feel that the Red Bulls should be forced to wear Cosmos kits so that the old Sounders-Cosmos in homage to the NASL rivalry that spraked up a few years before I joined this planet. I love history. I love soccer. I hate the name Red Bull New York. I am mad about this.
But not mad enough to stay away from the TV tonight to watch. Of course, as a red blooded soccer fan, I'm rooting for the Sounders. I want to see them win. I'm sure the league wants the same, although I doubt any league official will say so publicly.
I'm not sure if my dad will accompany me for the match. It kicks off at 9pm Eastern, so it may require some caffeinated beverages to keep him awake. He works long hours. I forgive him. Plus, he's good sport about it. He knows I'd rather watch with him rather than being couched in front of the TV alone. Dads are the best. My dad is the best of the best.
I have a seven page paper on philosophical discourses due next week. My prof wants a rough draft of it by tonight. I'm hoping that the phrase "by tonight" can be construed as "anytime between dusk and the following dawn," which will give me a good 6-7 hours after the match to e-mail it to him. I don't know why you would care about this, but I'm too lazy to press the delete button.
Anyway, if you're still with me, congratulations. You are a true friend of not only me, but of every troubled soul who follows soccer. I am indebted for your support. As a reward, here's a prediction:
Sounders 2.0, Red Bulls 3.14159265358979323846…
Doesn't make sense? Oh wait, J/K! LMAO!!! ;-)
OK, for real. Sounders 1, Red Bulls 1.
An own goal will occur because, quite frankly, I'm really in the mood for one. It'll provide an opportunity for my dad to laugh and say, "Brian, why do they pay these guys? Can't even score in the the right goal!" to which I'll say "Why do they pay me? I can't even carry an argument beyond two grafs!"
End.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Pawtucket's soccer tradition
Ever since the first time my dad drove me past McCoy Stadium (I was five years old), baseball and Pawtucket have gone together like Bert and Ernie. Peanut butter and jelly. Even Hall and Oates.
So you can probably imagine some of the difficulties I've recently had in connecting the city with soccer. It's not so easy to overwrite the very connotations you drew up before you stopped eating crayons. Pawtucket has always equalled baseball to me. Pawtucket and soccer? I'm still working on it.
Luckily, as a free-thinking adult, I've discovered that baseball isn't the only major sport that Pawtucket has a rich history of. Okay, so maybe the city can't say there was a soccer match that continued over three days.* And yeah, maybe the fact that the former hub of the city's soccerscape is now a parking lot doesn't really help. I understand that completely. However, that shouldn't mask the fact that Pawtucket hosted some pretty important matches before the PawSox were even a glint in Ben Mondor's mind.
(*The Pawtucket Red Sox have the distinction of playing the longest game in professional baseball history: a 33-inning marathon with the Rochester Red Wings. The game began at 7pm on April 18, 1981, and continued until a little after 4am with score tied at 2-2 after 32 innings. The umps called it, and the league ruled the game would continue on June 23rd. One inning into Day 3, Dave Koza drove in Marty Barrett for the game-winning RBI. And yes, all of these facts are committed to memory.)
So you can probably imagine some of the difficulties I've recently had in connecting the city with soccer. It's not so easy to overwrite the very connotations you drew up before you stopped eating crayons. Pawtucket has always equalled baseball to me. Pawtucket and soccer? I'm still working on it.
Luckily, as a free-thinking adult, I've discovered that baseball isn't the only major sport that Pawtucket has a rich history of. Okay, so maybe the city can't say there was a soccer match that continued over three days.* And yeah, maybe the fact that the former hub of the city's soccerscape is now a parking lot doesn't really help. I understand that completely. However, that shouldn't mask the fact that Pawtucket hosted some pretty important matches before the PawSox were even a glint in Ben Mondor's mind.
(*The Pawtucket Red Sox have the distinction of playing the longest game in professional baseball history: a 33-inning marathon with the Rochester Red Wings. The game began at 7pm on April 18, 1981, and continued until a little after 4am with score tied at 2-2 after 32 innings. The umps called it, and the league ruled the game would continue on June 23rd. One inning into Day 3, Dave Koza drove in Marty Barrett for the game-winning RBI. And yes, all of these facts are committed to memory.)
Around the turn of the century, the city had lots of soccer. In fact, a mill league of sorts was organized among teams sponsored by the many local industrial businesses. Before baseball rooted itself on Columbus Ave., Pawtucket could've easily been called Soccer City, USA.
The first notable club of Pawtucket's past was J & P Coats, a side sponsored by a local threading manufacturer. The club was started up in 1914, and finished third in the Southern New England Soccer League table with 19 points. According to the demi-god known as Wikipedia, the club was the Times Cup* in 1919. After 1921, the league folded, but J &P would survive in the newly-formed American Soccer League the following year.
(*The link for "Times Cup" on Wiki explains that "Wikipedia does not have an article with this exact name. " As a lifelong Rhode Islander, I figured it was an Award sponsored by the Pawtucket Times, the city's daily paper. But who competed for it? Well, I asked a buddy of mine - Jack Scott, a member of the New England Soccer Hall of Fame - about this award, and he thinks it was a city-wide challenge among all the clubs in Pawtucket.)
Now, J & P wasn't an especially great team during it ASL days. Sure, the club boasted a top of the table finish during the 1922/23 season, but that was really it's only glorious moment. Mired in the mediocrity otherwise, the club sputtered along until 1929, when it was bought out by a local business. J & P Coats was no more.
Enter the Pawtucket Rangers. New banner, new beginning. And boy, was a fresh start ever needed.
By 1934, Pawtucket, once a hive of industrial buzz, was feeling the effects of the Depression. Factories were abandoned. Companies folded. A trying time for certain. And it was soccer, not baseball, that its citizens turned to. The Rangers were the perfect antidote. That same year, the club entered the National Challenge Cup (what we now call The Lamar Hunt U.S. Open Cup), but had their championship dreams dashed when they lost to St. Louis Stix, Baer & Fuller. The following year saw the Rangers come up short yet again, this time to St. Louis Central Breweries. But for all intents and purposes, Pawtucket was a soccer city.
And what made soccer so popular was its derbies. Providence, Fall River, and New Bedford, all within miles of each other, sent clubs to face the Rangers. When they did, the first thing an opponent had to get used to was the dirt pitch that Pawtucket regularly "manicured" with a raked tractor. Talk about a home field advatage.
These local contests were pretty heated affairs. Riots, pitch crashes, and arrests were not particularly uncommon when an afternoon of soccer transpired. In fact, it was rare when a fight dind't break out, as referees were often intimidated by the boisterous crowd or a particularly hellbent player or two.
Scuffles aside, soccer continued. Despite the soccer wars and the United States Soccer Football Association's continued troubles with professional soccer, fans flocked to Dexter Street by the thousands. They saw players like Billy Gonsalves, Archie Stark, Bert Patenaude, Alex McNab and Buff Donelli. Pawtucket also saw fit to host National Challenge Cup ties even when the Rangers weren't involved. It was an extraordinary time for soccer in the United States, and a lot of it was taking place in the country's smallest state.
Sadly, it wouldn't last. While the Rangers claimed the 1941 U.S. Open Cup, it wouldn't last. The War broke up the team (as well as many other teams across the country), and soccer struggled to organize itself in the wake of the Depression and now the Second World War. Leagues disintigrated into amateur factions. The idea of "Americaness" - one which cast soccer aside as "foreign" - was feverishly promoted after the war. Factories moved down south. Pawtucket's once fertile landscape became barren almost overnight.
The pitches that hosted Pawtucket's greatest matches have since been levelled, only to be replaced by shopping centers and condominiums. Beautifully-manicured baseball diamonds outnumber the downtrodden pitches. Abandoned brick mills and factories are the only reminder of the city's soccer legacy.
However, that legacy has not died. In 2005, the city constructed an impressive, state of the art soccer facility on Industrial Highway where kids, not to mention adults, play nearly year-round. Roger Allaway and David Wangerin have referenced the city's soccerscape in their recent books. And additional efforts continue today. The New England Soccer Hall of Fame has preserved some of the city's soccer-related artifacts, including the 1941 Pawtucket Rangers U.S. Open Cup championship banner.
Although generations have passed since Pawtucket's glory days, its history has not been forgotten. While soccer may never sweep the city the way it once did, it's clear that a transference has been made from its golden days to the present.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Sleepless in Seattle
You remember that movie Sleepless in Seattle? I kind of do, but only vaguely because I was 11 when it came out on VHS* and was bribed into watching it at my parents' friends' house while they ate dinner at the "Adult Table."
(*VHS...now THAT makes me feel old.)
Now mind you, I was still a couple years from adolescence, which is about the time I started developing an appreciation for the chick flick. So no, I didn't care whether Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks got together or not.
Wait a minute. Where was I going with this?
Oh yeah, so anyway, I think of that movie everytime I hear about Thursday's First Kick matchup at Qwest Field. Which is to say I now have bits and pieces of that movie floating in my mind on a regular basis. It's like mental self-mutilation now that I think about it.
Although I have no connections whatsoever to the city of Seattle, other than my new Facebook friend buddy Dave Clark's from there, I am definitely psyched/pumped/jacked/borderline unstable for it. In fact, I contemplated posting this entirely in CAPS, with lots of !!!!'s, :)'s, :-0's, :-D's, and other crazy emoticons and incoherent symbols. Lucky for you, I'm took the liberty of writing this post with fresh Xanax coursing through my blood.
When we talk about expansion, we often try to gauge how worthy a market. It's often done using such sensible pieces of data like public funding, ownership structure, long-term projections, and the attendance figures from those crazy soccer parties/pep rallies where a bunch of club-less fans all get together and cheer and scream and shout and push all for the possibility of earning an MLS club in their neck of the woods. And that's cool. I don't belittle that kind of stuff. I'm not a hater. I'd do the same. I mean, if I had to.
But that's latter criteria is just a party. How do we know that level of enthusiasm will translate to season tickets, sold out crowds and neon green kits? We don't. We just don't. We have forecast of what may happen based on how deserving a market is for professional soccer. And it helps, yeah. But it's nothing close to certain. Which is why Seattle's successful bid was such a masterstroke for everyone involved - because it seemed like an absolute certainty that Seattle would embrace top-flight soccer.
But is it surprising? Was it surprising that Seattle wooed MLS to it's corner of the country? Not really. What's amazing is that it took this long. I mean, just look at Seattle's history with soccer.
The NASL Sounders often drew close to 25,000 back in the day, even without a Pele, Beckenbauer or Cruyff to brag about. They had a pretty good team that even went toe-to-toe with the Cosmos and their aforementioned stars during the 1977 Soccer Bowl. Even after the NASL club folded, attempts to revive it always remained. The club, not the NASL, although if it took reviving the NASL to bring back the Sounders, I'm sure Seattle would have found a way.
Although my history may not be precise, I believe there were other incarnations in the 80s and early 90s before Wikipedia acknowledges that the USL version started up in 1994. Even though there were different owners, players and coaches, the Sounders name pretty much remained.
And it's the power of that name that I think just sets the table for everything else. When Seattle was finally granted a franchise, it HAD to be the Sounders. It wasn't even a question. It's the tie that binds the rich past, exciting present, and promising future of soccer in Seattle.
The volume of kids and adults, men and women all rallying feverishly behind a soccer club in the United States is a momentous step forward for MLS, and for U.S. Soccer. The club has seduced more than 20,000 into season tickets, and many thousands more to single-matches. And MLS has responded, not only awarding Starbucksland it's 2009 premiere showcase, but the MLS Cup Championship match as well.
And you know what? It's deserved for everyone. The fans, the players, the front office, the League, but not necessarily Meg Ryan. Or Tom Hanks. Poseurs.
(*VHS...now THAT makes me feel old.)
Now mind you, I was still a couple years from adolescence, which is about the time I started developing an appreciation for the chick flick. So no, I didn't care whether Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks got together or not.
Wait a minute. Where was I going with this?
Oh yeah, so anyway, I think of that movie everytime I hear about Thursday's First Kick matchup at Qwest Field. Which is to say I now have bits and pieces of that movie floating in my mind on a regular basis. It's like mental self-mutilation now that I think about it.
Although I have no connections whatsoever to the city of Seattle, other than my new Facebook friend buddy Dave Clark's from there, I am definitely psyched/pumped/jacked/borderline unstable for it. In fact, I contemplated posting this entirely in CAPS, with lots of !!!!'s, :)'s, :-0's, :-D's, and other crazy emoticons and incoherent symbols. Lucky for you, I'm took the liberty of writing this post with fresh Xanax coursing through my blood.
When we talk about expansion, we often try to gauge how worthy a market. It's often done using such sensible pieces of data like public funding, ownership structure, long-term projections, and the attendance figures from those crazy soccer parties/pep rallies where a bunch of club-less fans all get together and cheer and scream and shout and push all for the possibility of earning an MLS club in their neck of the woods. And that's cool. I don't belittle that kind of stuff. I'm not a hater. I'd do the same. I mean, if I had to.
But that's latter criteria is just a party. How do we know that level of enthusiasm will translate to season tickets, sold out crowds and neon green kits? We don't. We just don't. We have forecast of what may happen based on how deserving a market is for professional soccer. And it helps, yeah. But it's nothing close to certain. Which is why Seattle's successful bid was such a masterstroke for everyone involved - because it seemed like an absolute certainty that Seattle would embrace top-flight soccer.
But is it surprising? Was it surprising that Seattle wooed MLS to it's corner of the country? Not really. What's amazing is that it took this long. I mean, just look at Seattle's history with soccer.
The NASL Sounders often drew close to 25,000 back in the day, even without a Pele, Beckenbauer or Cruyff to brag about. They had a pretty good team that even went toe-to-toe with the Cosmos and their aforementioned stars during the 1977 Soccer Bowl. Even after the NASL club folded, attempts to revive it always remained. The club, not the NASL, although if it took reviving the NASL to bring back the Sounders, I'm sure Seattle would have found a way.
Although my history may not be precise, I believe there were other incarnations in the 80s and early 90s before Wikipedia acknowledges that the USL version started up in 1994. Even though there were different owners, players and coaches, the Sounders name pretty much remained.
And it's the power of that name that I think just sets the table for everything else. When Seattle was finally granted a franchise, it HAD to be the Sounders. It wasn't even a question. It's the tie that binds the rich past, exciting present, and promising future of soccer in Seattle.
The volume of kids and adults, men and women all rallying feverishly behind a soccer club in the United States is a momentous step forward for MLS, and for U.S. Soccer. The club has seduced more than 20,000 into season tickets, and many thousands more to single-matches. And MLS has responded, not only awarding Starbucksland it's 2009 premiere showcase, but the MLS Cup Championship match as well.
And you know what? It's deserved for everyone. The fans, the players, the front office, the League, but not necessarily Meg Ryan. Or Tom Hanks. Poseurs.
Paper writing and brain cramping
Does a post to apologize for lack of recent posts qualifiy as a true post? I don't think it does. Otherwise, I could simply post here every two days to say I'm sorry that I haven't posted in two days. That would be cheating. I think.
So anyway, I am sorry about the crickets here. You'd think that a time called Spring Break would offer, you know, a break. Not for me. Another 18-page story and a host of essay reading provided what I'll tentatively title Spring Breakdown. My brain...it hurts. My eyes...they sting. My mind...is fractured.
But seriously, I do have a post on the way on Pawtucket soccer, I'm just having trouble locating a couple of quotes. I'm pretty darn excited about Thursday. It's about time some real life, regular season soccer got underway. As much as I enjoy the offseason, writing about rumors, ideas, and general non-action can drive me absolutely batty. Batty to the brink of the drinks. Not really.
I'll post the Pawtucket piece tonight, and get started on another gleeful post shortly thereafter.
Less than 96 hours until First Kick...
So anyway, I am sorry about the crickets here. You'd think that a time called Spring Break would offer, you know, a break. Not for me. Another 18-page story and a host of essay reading provided what I'll tentatively title Spring Breakdown. My brain...it hurts. My eyes...they sting. My mind...is fractured.
But seriously, I do have a post on the way on Pawtucket soccer, I'm just having trouble locating a couple of quotes. I'm pretty darn excited about Thursday. It's about time some real life, regular season soccer got underway. As much as I enjoy the offseason, writing about rumors, ideas, and general non-action can drive me absolutely batty. Batty to the brink of the drinks. Not really.
I'll post the Pawtucket piece tonight, and get started on another gleeful post shortly thereafter.
Less than 96 hours until First Kick...
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Soccer in a struggling economy
So I've been reading this really, really interesting book called Soccer in a Football World,* which I highly recommend as an excellent account of American soccer history. It's probably one of the best soccer books I've ever read, and I've read a lot of them over the years.
(*Do you ever stumble upon a phrase that COULD have a double-meaning? I think the title is one of those. "Soccer in a football world" could mean soccer in America, where (American) football dominates the landscape. Then again, it COULD also mean, soccer in a (global) football, as if the comparison is made to what Americans call soccer, the rest of the world calls football. If I ever cross paths with David Wangerin, it'll be the first question I ask.)
Anyway, I just finished a chapter on how the American Soccer League, and other lesser pro leagues were just killed by the Depression. Just murdered. Of course, the Depression wasn't the lone gunman - a soccer war, not to mention the close link between factories and clubs, and the relocation of the factories all played as accessories to the crime.
Now, soccer wasn't the only sport that was affected. Other sports were hurt as well. Baseball's attendances nosedived, and while college football sustain its popularity (due to its affluent fanbases) it was certifiable miracle that pro football survived. After all, the credit extended to so many during Roaring Twenties was running out, and bills were past due.
Sound familiar?* Now, I'm not saying that the present economic crisis is another Depression so to speak, but there's no doubt a lot of people are hurting. Over the past year, the NBA and NFL have laid off several employees. NASCAR eliminated offseason testing. The NBA has been forced extended a $200 million credit line to a host of franchises who are especially affected by the crisis. Heck, the NFL Commissioner cut his salary by 20%! And don't think that MLB hasn't felt the purple-nurple pinch as well. MLB has advised that it expects up to a 20% drop in overall attendance in 2009.
(*You know how people say history repeats itself? I agree to an extent, but I think one of my political science professors put it better: "History doesn't always repeat itself, but it often tends to rhyme.")
Meanwhile, MLS finds itself in a very odd position. Americans have less discretionary spending. In cutting personal costs, outrageously priced sports tickets have cut out of many people's budget's, and thus, the NFL, MLB and NBA have paid the price. MLS, however, may boast of two advantages: consumer-friendly prices, and family-oriented atmosphere.*
(*I say this knowing full well that another league with the same virtues - Arena Football League - cancelled its 2009 season despite the fact that it is a much cheaper alternative than the NFL. )
(*Do you ever stumble upon a phrase that COULD have a double-meaning? I think the title is one of those. "Soccer in a football world" could mean soccer in America, where (American) football dominates the landscape. Then again, it COULD also mean, soccer in a (global) football, as if the comparison is made to what Americans call soccer, the rest of the world calls football. If I ever cross paths with David Wangerin, it'll be the first question I ask.)
Anyway, I just finished a chapter on how the American Soccer League, and other lesser pro leagues were just killed by the Depression. Just murdered. Of course, the Depression wasn't the lone gunman - a soccer war, not to mention the close link between factories and clubs, and the relocation of the factories all played as accessories to the crime.
Now, soccer wasn't the only sport that was affected. Other sports were hurt as well. Baseball's attendances nosedived, and while college football sustain its popularity (due to its affluent fanbases) it was certifiable miracle that pro football survived. After all, the credit extended to so many during Roaring Twenties was running out, and bills were past due.
Sound familiar?* Now, I'm not saying that the present economic crisis is another Depression so to speak, but there's no doubt a lot of people are hurting. Over the past year, the NBA and NFL have laid off several employees. NASCAR eliminated offseason testing. The NBA has been forced extended a $200 million credit line to a host of franchises who are especially affected by the crisis. Heck, the NFL Commissioner cut his salary by 20%! And don't think that MLB hasn't felt the purple-nurple pinch as well. MLB has advised that it expects up to a 20% drop in overall attendance in 2009.
(*You know how people say history repeats itself? I agree to an extent, but I think one of my political science professors put it better: "History doesn't always repeat itself, but it often tends to rhyme.")
Meanwhile, MLS finds itself in a very odd position. Americans have less discretionary spending. In cutting personal costs, outrageously priced sports tickets have cut out of many people's budget's, and thus, the NFL, MLB and NBA have paid the price. MLS, however, may boast of two advantages: consumer-friendly prices, and family-oriented atmosphere.*
(*I say this knowing full well that another league with the same virtues - Arena Football League - cancelled its 2009 season despite the fact that it is a much cheaper alternative than the NFL. )
I think there are two schools of thought here. One school says that MLS should begin writing its will and obituary. After all, a league that ranks fifth behind the Big Four in terms of attendance and popularity is likely to feel the same effects as its older brothers.
Then there is the school that believes that the current financial woes will play to MLS's advantage. Sure, there's less discretionary spending available, but Americans love their sports. If they find themselves priced out of one, they'll seek another. Right?
I know I'm biased, but as a fan of many sports, pro soccer in the States is by far the best value for your sports entertainment buck, save for minor league baseball. So, I'm a student of the second school of thought. There's no question that MLS is the torchbearer for best value among top-flight sports, and I think that the league, as well as minor league ball and pro lacrosse, are in the best positions to welcome those suddenly priced out of Big Four tickets.
To its credit, some MLS clubs have already recognized this, and have taken steps to play this card to their advantage. The New England Revolution, for example, have recently launched defendthefort.net, a supporter's site where fans can purchase season tickets for $200.00. That's less than HALF of most people's monthly rent. Additionally, the club also offers discounted four-match ticket packages, and - perhaps the most underrated aspect of its value - free parking for every one of its matches.
In my view, right now is a golden opportunity for MLS. It would be remiss to recognize this time as a hurricane-sized window of opportunity. Not only can they easily beat their competitors' prices, but they can also boast of a family-friendly atmosphere.* And heck, the action ain't bad, either.
(*If I were commissioner for a day, I'd decree that every single match ball that flies into the crowd during the 2009 MLS season is no longer the league's. Let the fans keep the ball. Do not understimate the power that type of memory can create. I'm telling you that a kid, who will someday have kids of his/her own, that gets to keep a ball will never forget that. His/her allegiance to MLS will be effectively secured as a result.)
Monday, March 09, 2009
Missing Michael Parkhurst
(*I was originally going to title this piece "Forgetting David Beckham." And all was going quite swell until I developed a sudden aneuryism about halfway through my first sentence. Darn. Therefore, here's what I hope proves to be a more enlightening piece.)
Michael Parkhurst was special. And not in a demeaning, saracastic kind of way. I mean special in a good way.
It wasn't just the fact that he accumulated league awards - Rookie of the Year, Defender of the Year, MLS All-Star - the way a former child actor accumulates hours in therapy. Nor was it the amazing storyline of a local kid who attended the very first Revolution match and went on to excel on his hometown club. Heck, it wasn't even that wonder strike from center circle during the 2007 season finale.
All of those ideas are relevant and compelling, yes. Anecdotal, sure. But none of those little factoids are sole reason why Michael Parkhurst was such a talent to behold.
What made Parkurst special was that his uncanny knack for being in the right playce at the right time. He understood the ebb and flow of the game better than all but a few of his peers. He knew when to give space, and when to go in for the kill. He was cerebral to nth power.
I know it's difficult, if not darn near impossible, to quantify this aspect of his game. However, we can look toward some statistical evidence that Parky was a supremely gifted center back.
The first statistic is the fouls committed category. It took him nearly three years to blemish to fouls committed category. Three years for his first foul. Did I mention that he was a center back? That's like Amy Winehouse being clean for an entire week.
And Parky never shied away from contact. Rarely was he caught out of position. In fact, he was often in the precise position when an attack pressed forward. He was like a cat ready to pounce on a ball of yarn. A cat with a double-doctorate in geometry and spatial studies.
Another statistic that goes hand in hand with the fouls created category is the card accumulation. Although he finally proved to be human and committed his first MLS foul in 2008, he never picked up a card. In fact, his club was awarded the fair play prize from MLS, as the Revolution squad as a whole committed the fewest yellow/red card transgressions. Although the entire roster deserves kudos for that distinction, the zero cards for Parky is an accurate reflection of his remarkable discipline in such a crucial spot on the pitch.
But like I said, his "specialness" - and yes, we are all special in some way - cannot be accurately measured via statistics. Rather, I think the best indication of how important he was to the Revolution is that his Steve Nicol, his former manager, may have to overhaul his club's tactics to address Parky's absence.
The weight placed on shoulders of a sole center back can is heavier than two Ronaldos. The margin for error of a lone CB is slimmer than Lindsay Lohan. A shift of weight ten degrees the wrong way, and the punishment can be a back-breaking goal. And while the crowd may unjustifiably jeer the keeper, a stand up center back will carry that guilt for the remainder of the evening.
And Nicol, one of the league's most brilliant managers, saw that Parkhurst's time on Route One was running out. He drafted a convalescing, yet promising, center back named Rob Valentino from San Francisco in the first round of last year's SuperDraft. Later in the year, Nicol brought in Gabriel Badilla from Costa Rica, a pretty high-profile signing for a club that rarely entertains such deals.
While Valentino recuperated, he never saw first team action. And Badilla's arrival was less than stellar, to say the least. In only six matches, he nearly rivaled Parky's nine fouls with seven of his own.
Of course, Parky played 23 more matches than the Costa Rican. More importantly, the normally stalwart Revolution back line disintegrated, as the club fluctuated between the 3-5-2 and the 4-4-2. Injuries, call-ups (including that of Parkhurst himself for the Summer Olympics) and a flood of fixtures made the defending third appear circus-like down the stretch. All the while, Parky kept his end of the bargain, and never seemed to waver from his responsibilities.
However, one man cannot steer a storm-battered vessel alone. The Revolution failed to reach MLS Cup for the first time since 2004.
As expected, Parky packed his bags and signed with the Danish club FC Nordsjælland, and left behind a gaping hole at the center back slot in New England.
Which brings us to the club's current condition. With Parky gone for good, the club's employed a four-man backline in each of its preseason matches rather than the customary 3-5-2. I know this isn't entirely suprising, as the Revs are apt to undertake a great deal of experimentation during the preseason. But this year, given Parkhurst's departure and the club's depth in the rear, there's been a considerable amount of buzz that the 3-5-2 may be scrapped altogether.
Depth is one thing; sheer talent is another. If you asked Steve Nicol, he'd likely choose a fit Michael Parkhurst over three capable CB candidates. Although he's denied the idea of a preferred formation over the years, it's clear that the three-man back line, featuring Parkhurst as its centerpiece, is the one that Nicol's achieved the greatest success with during the past four seasons.
Whether the current crop of defenders can seamlessly mesh and reform its stingy self as a four-headed beast remains to be seen. Can Valentino and Badilla (or Jay Heaps, if necessary) man the middle effectively? If not, will Nicol have to scour the international seas to find a Parkhurst clone?
It may take some time before we know. Yet, the very real possibility of a tactical shift amply underscores how special Michael Parkhurst truly was.
Michael Parkhurst was special. And not in a demeaning, saracastic kind of way. I mean special in a good way.
It wasn't just the fact that he accumulated league awards - Rookie of the Year, Defender of the Year, MLS All-Star - the way a former child actor accumulates hours in therapy. Nor was it the amazing storyline of a local kid who attended the very first Revolution match and went on to excel on his hometown club. Heck, it wasn't even that wonder strike from center circle during the 2007 season finale.
All of those ideas are relevant and compelling, yes. Anecdotal, sure. But none of those little factoids are sole reason why Michael Parkhurst was such a talent to behold.
What made Parkurst special was that his uncanny knack for being in the right playce at the right time. He understood the ebb and flow of the game better than all but a few of his peers. He knew when to give space, and when to go in for the kill. He was cerebral to nth power.
I know it's difficult, if not darn near impossible, to quantify this aspect of his game. However, we can look toward some statistical evidence that Parky was a supremely gifted center back.
The first statistic is the fouls committed category. It took him nearly three years to blemish to fouls committed category. Three years for his first foul. Did I mention that he was a center back? That's like Amy Winehouse being clean for an entire week.
And Parky never shied away from contact. Rarely was he caught out of position. In fact, he was often in the precise position when an attack pressed forward. He was like a cat ready to pounce on a ball of yarn. A cat with a double-doctorate in geometry and spatial studies.
Another statistic that goes hand in hand with the fouls created category is the card accumulation. Although he finally proved to be human and committed his first MLS foul in 2008, he never picked up a card. In fact, his club was awarded the fair play prize from MLS, as the Revolution squad as a whole committed the fewest yellow/red card transgressions. Although the entire roster deserves kudos for that distinction, the zero cards for Parky is an accurate reflection of his remarkable discipline in such a crucial spot on the pitch.
But like I said, his "specialness" - and yes, we are all special in some way - cannot be accurately measured via statistics. Rather, I think the best indication of how important he was to the Revolution is that his Steve Nicol, his former manager, may have to overhaul his club's tactics to address Parky's absence.
The weight placed on shoulders of a sole center back can is heavier than two Ronaldos. The margin for error of a lone CB is slimmer than Lindsay Lohan. A shift of weight ten degrees the wrong way, and the punishment can be a back-breaking goal. And while the crowd may unjustifiably jeer the keeper, a stand up center back will carry that guilt for the remainder of the evening.
And Nicol, one of the league's most brilliant managers, saw that Parkhurst's time on Route One was running out. He drafted a convalescing, yet promising, center back named Rob Valentino from San Francisco in the first round of last year's SuperDraft. Later in the year, Nicol brought in Gabriel Badilla from Costa Rica, a pretty high-profile signing for a club that rarely entertains such deals.
While Valentino recuperated, he never saw first team action. And Badilla's arrival was less than stellar, to say the least. In only six matches, he nearly rivaled Parky's nine fouls with seven of his own.
Of course, Parky played 23 more matches than the Costa Rican. More importantly, the normally stalwart Revolution back line disintegrated, as the club fluctuated between the 3-5-2 and the 4-4-2. Injuries, call-ups (including that of Parkhurst himself for the Summer Olympics) and a flood of fixtures made the defending third appear circus-like down the stretch. All the while, Parky kept his end of the bargain, and never seemed to waver from his responsibilities.
However, one man cannot steer a storm-battered vessel alone. The Revolution failed to reach MLS Cup for the first time since 2004.
As expected, Parky packed his bags and signed with the Danish club FC Nordsjælland, and left behind a gaping hole at the center back slot in New England.
Which brings us to the club's current condition. With Parky gone for good, the club's employed a four-man backline in each of its preseason matches rather than the customary 3-5-2. I know this isn't entirely suprising, as the Revs are apt to undertake a great deal of experimentation during the preseason. But this year, given Parkhurst's departure and the club's depth in the rear, there's been a considerable amount of buzz that the 3-5-2 may be scrapped altogether.
Depth is one thing; sheer talent is another. If you asked Steve Nicol, he'd likely choose a fit Michael Parkhurst over three capable CB candidates. Although he's denied the idea of a preferred formation over the years, it's clear that the three-man back line, featuring Parkhurst as its centerpiece, is the one that Nicol's achieved the greatest success with during the past four seasons.
Whether the current crop of defenders can seamlessly mesh and reform its stingy self as a four-headed beast remains to be seen. Can Valentino and Badilla (or Jay Heaps, if necessary) man the middle effectively? If not, will Nicol have to scour the international seas to find a Parkhurst clone?
It may take some time before we know. Yet, the very real possibility of a tactical shift amply underscores how special Michael Parkhurst truly was.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
NOT FOR NOTHING, BUT...
-You idiot, MLS!
How could you just let David Beckham get away with that? You owned his rights, had him under contract for another three years, and you blew it! You just go ahead and let him stay at A.C. Milan beyond his March 9th curfew? What were you thinking? 0101010101!!!
For God sakes, MLS, I wished you had used your cojones.* The worst part of this whole fiasco isn’t that Becks got exactly what he wanted, short of Rebecca Loos and her skanky drawers. The worst part was that the League sat back and was pushed around worse than wuss Fredo Corleone. MLS, you got served.
(*Props to Texas Soccer Republic for the clarification.)
The worst part is that this situation sets a horrible precedent for any other international star wishing to play in MLS. No need to honor your contract. We’ll simply loan you out to the club of your choice once you lose interest. If you like it there, by all means, stay for the remainder of the season. Don’t worry about us. We’ll anxiously await your return.
MLS = Major League Sissies.
-R.I.P. The Beckham Four Pack, 2007-2008, the only way I could convince hot chicks to come with me to a soccer game
-The New England Revolution won’t play a single MLS opponent this preseason. And I feel fine.
-Speaking of the Revs, reports are that Steve Nicol’s got his eyes on a couple of African defenders to help shore up what may be a four man backline given Michael Parkhurst’s departure.
-Memo to the Chicago Fire: don’t loan out Cuauhtemoc Blanco. Ever.
-Speaking of the Fire, Chicago looks like it's ripping pages right out of the A.C. Milan textbook on how to put together an all-geriatric XI. I know nursing homes are big business, but c'mon, this is professional soccer dammit!
-Now all they need to do is pirate an aging, modelesque midfielder. I wonder what Giorgio Chinaglia's doing right now....
-As troubling as it’s been to see the Beckham fiasco blow up in MLS’s face, the league’s got to breathing an enormous sigh of relief in knowing that its oh-so-flamboyant media gadfly, Landon Donovan, will be back.
-By the way, L.A. will be much, much better this season, with or without Becks. Aside from flying charter, of course.
-Their interstadium rivals, Chivas USA, will contend it can stay healthy, which is no easy task given that half the league's defenders still resort to flailing no-ball tackles.
-Healthy or not, Houston will struggle without D-Ro, and they should, because you just don't let a guy like that go unless he's got bad pics of your wife/girlfriend/friend with benefits.
-Apparently, it’s down to Vancouver and Portland for the latest round of expansion, with Barca backing out of Miami and St. Louis still struggling to propose a serious bid. The after-effects of the Beckham Saga supposedly left Barca kinda squeamish about Miami. So thank you Becks, I owe you an enormous amount of gratitude for keeping MLS out of Miami, thereby depriving me an opportunity to head down to South Beach on a "professional" basis in the near future.
-By the way, it’s a travesty that St. Louis, a historical soccer hotbed, still does not have an MLS club of its own in 2009. I don't know how much longer the soccer gods' patience can be tested.
-Oh yeah, you spring’s just around the corner when Revolution radio spots start creeping in between me lip-synching Lady Gaga and Britney Spears.*
(*Holy crap, did I just publish that out loud?)
-Here’s hoping that Taylor Twellman is A-OK, even if it means he has to hang up the boots in the wake of several concussions.
-When Steve Ralston retires – which may or may not occurr until one of those flying cars in Back to the Future Part II appear in the vicinity of a Revolution soccer spec stadium* – his boots should be immediately bronzed like my baby shoes.
(*I should have said "when a Teletubby becomes President," but then I realized that's a lot more likely to happen than the conditions set forth above.)
-D.C United will rebound this season. Kansas City won’t.
-Real Salt Lake is quietly putting together a club that will contend for years, a thought that seemed all but improbable only less 18 months ago. This just proves that everything that happens in a market like Salt Lake City is done quietly.
-Do MLS clubs really care about CONCACAF Champions League?
-And does CCL provide the strongest argument for promotion/relegation in MLS?
-Quiz of the Week: Which original Boston Breaker recently signed on with the Breakers this past week?
-I don’t know why, but I miss Dave O’Brien calling MLS matches. Same with Eric Wynalda.
-I also miss Brandi Chastain on the sidelines. But for different reasons...
-Kudos to the Revs for introducing the economically-friendly $200 season ticket for a seat in The Fort, even if the phrase “a seat in The Fort” is a misnomer.
-If there’s one positive about the whole Beckham drama, it’s that it makes me even itchier than Lindsay Lohan for actual MLS on-the-pitch action.
-Well, that and not having to hear me talk about it anymore.
-The Carolina Challenge Cup tournament is exactly what MLS needs more of to intensify its bland, Nilla Wafer-like preseason.
-I’ll probably say it again, but I will miss the Reserve League, a wonderful forum for kids and families to watch professional soccer not only for free, but in a refreshingly informal atmosphere. That, and the occasional opportunity to become a de facto ball boy. I know. I'm a freaking soccer geek.
-I know you haven’t forgotten, but there’s only ten days until First Kick 2009, and 19 days until WPS season opener. God, I love soccer geekdom!
How could you just let David Beckham get away with that? You owned his rights, had him under contract for another three years, and you blew it! You just go ahead and let him stay at A.C. Milan beyond his March 9th curfew? What were you thinking? 0101010101!!!
For God sakes, MLS, I wished you had used your cojones.* The worst part of this whole fiasco isn’t that Becks got exactly what he wanted, short of Rebecca Loos and her skanky drawers. The worst part was that the League sat back and was pushed around worse than wuss Fredo Corleone. MLS, you got served.
(*Props to Texas Soccer Republic for the clarification.)
The worst part is that this situation sets a horrible precedent for any other international star wishing to play in MLS. No need to honor your contract. We’ll simply loan you out to the club of your choice once you lose interest. If you like it there, by all means, stay for the remainder of the season. Don’t worry about us. We’ll anxiously await your return.
MLS = Major League Sissies.
-R.I.P. The Beckham Four Pack, 2007-2008, the only way I could convince hot chicks to come with me to a soccer game
-The New England Revolution won’t play a single MLS opponent this preseason. And I feel fine.
-Speaking of the Revs, reports are that Steve Nicol’s got his eyes on a couple of African defenders to help shore up what may be a four man backline given Michael Parkhurst’s departure.
-Memo to the Chicago Fire: don’t loan out Cuauhtemoc Blanco. Ever.
-Speaking of the Fire, Chicago looks like it's ripping pages right out of the A.C. Milan textbook on how to put together an all-geriatric XI. I know nursing homes are big business, but c'mon, this is professional soccer dammit!
-Now all they need to do is pirate an aging, modelesque midfielder. I wonder what Giorgio Chinaglia's doing right now....
-As troubling as it’s been to see the Beckham fiasco blow up in MLS’s face, the league’s got to breathing an enormous sigh of relief in knowing that its oh-so-flamboyant media gadfly, Landon Donovan, will be back.
-By the way, L.A. will be much, much better this season, with or without Becks. Aside from flying charter, of course.
-Their interstadium rivals, Chivas USA, will contend it can stay healthy, which is no easy task given that half the league's defenders still resort to flailing no-ball tackles.
-Healthy or not, Houston will struggle without D-Ro, and they should, because you just don't let a guy like that go unless he's got bad pics of your wife/girlfriend/friend with benefits.
-Apparently, it’s down to Vancouver and Portland for the latest round of expansion, with Barca backing out of Miami and St. Louis still struggling to propose a serious bid. The after-effects of the Beckham Saga supposedly left Barca kinda squeamish about Miami. So thank you Becks, I owe you an enormous amount of gratitude for keeping MLS out of Miami, thereby depriving me an opportunity to head down to South Beach on a "professional" basis in the near future.
-By the way, it’s a travesty that St. Louis, a historical soccer hotbed, still does not have an MLS club of its own in 2009. I don't know how much longer the soccer gods' patience can be tested.
-Oh yeah, you spring’s just around the corner when Revolution radio spots start creeping in between me lip-synching Lady Gaga and Britney Spears.*
(*Holy crap, did I just publish that out loud?)
-Here’s hoping that Taylor Twellman is A-OK, even if it means he has to hang up the boots in the wake of several concussions.
-When Steve Ralston retires – which may or may not occurr until one of those flying cars in Back to the Future Part II appear in the vicinity of a Revolution soccer spec stadium* – his boots should be immediately bronzed like my baby shoes.
(*I should have said "when a Teletubby becomes President," but then I realized that's a lot more likely to happen than the conditions set forth above.)
-D.C United will rebound this season. Kansas City won’t.
-Real Salt Lake is quietly putting together a club that will contend for years, a thought that seemed all but improbable only less 18 months ago. This just proves that everything that happens in a market like Salt Lake City is done quietly.
-Do MLS clubs really care about CONCACAF Champions League?
-And does CCL provide the strongest argument for promotion/relegation in MLS?
-Quiz of the Week: Which original Boston Breaker recently signed on with the Breakers this past week?
-I don’t know why, but I miss Dave O’Brien calling MLS matches. Same with Eric Wynalda.
-I also miss Brandi Chastain on the sidelines. But for different reasons...
-Kudos to the Revs for introducing the economically-friendly $200 season ticket for a seat in The Fort, even if the phrase “a seat in The Fort” is a misnomer.
-If there’s one positive about the whole Beckham drama, it’s that it makes me even itchier than Lindsay Lohan for actual MLS on-the-pitch action.
-Well, that and not having to hear me talk about it anymore.
-The Carolina Challenge Cup tournament is exactly what MLS needs more of to intensify its bland, Nilla Wafer-like preseason.
-I’ll probably say it again, but I will miss the Reserve League, a wonderful forum for kids and families to watch professional soccer not only for free, but in a refreshingly informal atmosphere. That, and the occasional opportunity to become a de facto ball boy. I know. I'm a freaking soccer geek.
-I know you haven’t forgotten, but there’s only ten days until First Kick 2009, and 19 days until WPS season opener. God, I love soccer geekdom!
Saturday, March 07, 2009
Twellman is this generation's Billy Gonsalves
Taylor Twellman is greatest footballer New England’s seen since Billy Gonsalves.
There, I said it. I understand that Gonsalves has been given the distinction of being “the Babe Ruth of American Soccer” by many soccer historians. He played in two World Cups, won eight Open Cup championships, and reportedly scored over 100 goals in his illustrious career.* He is a legend. So, yes, I understand that’s saying a lot.
(*Unfortunately, soccer stats weren't tracked as well during Gonsalves career as they are today. According to two sources, Gonsalves had close to 100 goals in eight seasons of his 25 seasons as a footballer. Sadly, we may never know how many more he scored.)
However, Twellman’s play over the course of his seven Revolution seasons is enough for me to designate him as the best soccer player New England’s seen since Gonsalves' retirement in 1952.
Sometimes, it takes years after the culmination of a career to fully appreciate a player’s legacy. Now, I am not in the business of writing premature obituaries. Despite the fact he doesn’t appear primed to register a single preseason minute anytime soon, I understand that he’s still on the active roster.
But in light of Twellman’s ongoing neck pain – which may or may not be symptom of post-concussion syndrome – you have to wonder whether the 2005 MLS MVP will ever be healthy again to play top flight soccer in the States.
It’s tough to say at this point. Twellman’s condition is being held under lock and key by the Revolution organization, and justifiably so. However, it has been reported that his most recent concussion, which occurred last August after a violent collision with Los Angeles goalkeeper Steve Cronin, was the fifth known concussion suffered during his career.
Five concussions in anyone’s life – athlete or otherwise – is a considerable toll to be taken on any person’s brain, nevermind one of this country’s most physical players.
And it’s because of that physical, not to mention exceptional, play that Taylor Twellman simply raked. In 171 regular season matches, he struck for 99 career goals – an incredible success rate for any center-forward, MLS or otherwise.
As a result, his club, a formerly hapless bunch, flourished. With Twellman up front, the Revolution never failed to reach the playoffs. They earned four Eastern Conference Championships, not to mention U.S. Open Cup (2007) and Super Liga (2008) Championships. His uncanny scoring knack almost single-handedly delivered his team to an MLS Cup Championship in ’07.
But perhaps more importantly, he gave New England soccer fans an identifiable face to associate the sport of soccer with. His image plastered on posters, travel mugs and magazines, he gave soccer-playing kids a local hero to look up to. Little leaguers had David Ortiz. The U-10s had Taylor Twellman.
On the pitch, he was rarely afforded the same superstar treatment by referees. He was often mercilessly shoved, kicked, and tackled as countless referees could only offer “play on” shouts. Undeterred, he played with wild abandonment of his own personal safety. He speared headfirst into goalkeepers. He cannonballed into seas of sharp elbows, hard shoulders, and crunching boot studs. And throughout it all, he remained fearless. He never backed down. His bruised and battered body committed itself to putting the ball in the ol’ onion bag by any means possible. But there was always a price to be paid.
He was stitched up, concussed, and bloodied many, many times and in that, there is a sad injustice. Despite his success, he never attained the attention poured out to his nearby sporting peers. He never acquired that marketable nickname so many Big Four athletes are doled out. His club was rarely discussed on sports radio. Sports pages devoted little more than three inches to his endeavors, and only on a semi-regular basis. Outside of the soccer realm, he was just another anonymous soccer player not named David Beckham.
Yet, American soccer fans know better. They know him as a supreme talent who just missed a trip Germany for the 2006 World Cup. Though he had to settle for the “alternate” designation, he’s still known as one of the best goalscorers MLS has ever seen. They know him as a guy who played hurt – and he was often hurt – and with heart. A guy who refused to give an inch in the box. A stubborn attacker. A guy who regularly created headaches for opposing defenders and goalkeepers.
And perhaps it is only fitting that should the circumstances force Twellman to call it a remarkable career that one of his final masterpieces exemplified the way he played the game.
The score was 0-0. The potent tandem of David Beckham and Landon Donovan looked keen to cash in. But Twellman would have none of it. Looking to redirect a Khano Smith cross from the left, Twellman launched headfirst into Steve Cronin’s path. The striker's forehead met the ball, and the keeper’s fists nearly simultaneously. Twellman crashed down hard. The crowd gasped in horror. The dazed striker needed to be picked back up. The ball needed to be picked out of the net. The crowd erupted.
Maybe I'm making too much of Twellman's present condition. I don't know. But what I do know is that it shouldn’t take retirement to fully appreciate the magnitude of Twellman’s career.
After all, he is this generation’s Billy Gonsalves.
There, I said it. I understand that Gonsalves has been given the distinction of being “the Babe Ruth of American Soccer” by many soccer historians. He played in two World Cups, won eight Open Cup championships, and reportedly scored over 100 goals in his illustrious career.* He is a legend. So, yes, I understand that’s saying a lot.
(*Unfortunately, soccer stats weren't tracked as well during Gonsalves career as they are today. According to two sources, Gonsalves had close to 100 goals in eight seasons of his 25 seasons as a footballer. Sadly, we may never know how many more he scored.)
However, Twellman’s play over the course of his seven Revolution seasons is enough for me to designate him as the best soccer player New England’s seen since Gonsalves' retirement in 1952.
Sometimes, it takes years after the culmination of a career to fully appreciate a player’s legacy. Now, I am not in the business of writing premature obituaries. Despite the fact he doesn’t appear primed to register a single preseason minute anytime soon, I understand that he’s still on the active roster.
But in light of Twellman’s ongoing neck pain – which may or may not be symptom of post-concussion syndrome – you have to wonder whether the 2005 MLS MVP will ever be healthy again to play top flight soccer in the States.
It’s tough to say at this point. Twellman’s condition is being held under lock and key by the Revolution organization, and justifiably so. However, it has been reported that his most recent concussion, which occurred last August after a violent collision with Los Angeles goalkeeper Steve Cronin, was the fifth known concussion suffered during his career.
Five concussions in anyone’s life – athlete or otherwise – is a considerable toll to be taken on any person’s brain, nevermind one of this country’s most physical players.
And it’s because of that physical, not to mention exceptional, play that Taylor Twellman simply raked. In 171 regular season matches, he struck for 99 career goals – an incredible success rate for any center-forward, MLS or otherwise.
As a result, his club, a formerly hapless bunch, flourished. With Twellman up front, the Revolution never failed to reach the playoffs. They earned four Eastern Conference Championships, not to mention U.S. Open Cup (2007) and Super Liga (2008) Championships. His uncanny scoring knack almost single-handedly delivered his team to an MLS Cup Championship in ’07.
But perhaps more importantly, he gave New England soccer fans an identifiable face to associate the sport of soccer with. His image plastered on posters, travel mugs and magazines, he gave soccer-playing kids a local hero to look up to. Little leaguers had David Ortiz. The U-10s had Taylor Twellman.
On the pitch, he was rarely afforded the same superstar treatment by referees. He was often mercilessly shoved, kicked, and tackled as countless referees could only offer “play on” shouts. Undeterred, he played with wild abandonment of his own personal safety. He speared headfirst into goalkeepers. He cannonballed into seas of sharp elbows, hard shoulders, and crunching boot studs. And throughout it all, he remained fearless. He never backed down. His bruised and battered body committed itself to putting the ball in the ol’ onion bag by any means possible. But there was always a price to be paid.
He was stitched up, concussed, and bloodied many, many times and in that, there is a sad injustice. Despite his success, he never attained the attention poured out to his nearby sporting peers. He never acquired that marketable nickname so many Big Four athletes are doled out. His club was rarely discussed on sports radio. Sports pages devoted little more than three inches to his endeavors, and only on a semi-regular basis. Outside of the soccer realm, he was just another anonymous soccer player not named David Beckham.
Yet, American soccer fans know better. They know him as a supreme talent who just missed a trip Germany for the 2006 World Cup. Though he had to settle for the “alternate” designation, he’s still known as one of the best goalscorers MLS has ever seen. They know him as a guy who played hurt – and he was often hurt – and with heart. A guy who refused to give an inch in the box. A stubborn attacker. A guy who regularly created headaches for opposing defenders and goalkeepers.
And perhaps it is only fitting that should the circumstances force Twellman to call it a remarkable career that one of his final masterpieces exemplified the way he played the game.
The score was 0-0. The potent tandem of David Beckham and Landon Donovan looked keen to cash in. But Twellman would have none of it. Looking to redirect a Khano Smith cross from the left, Twellman launched headfirst into Steve Cronin’s path. The striker's forehead met the ball, and the keeper’s fists nearly simultaneously. Twellman crashed down hard. The crowd gasped in horror. The dazed striker needed to be picked back up. The ball needed to be picked out of the net. The crowd erupted.
Maybe I'm making too much of Twellman's present condition. I don't know. But what I do know is that it shouldn’t take retirement to fully appreciate the magnitude of Twellman’s career.
After all, he is this generation’s Billy Gonsalves.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Sports PR vs. sports journalism
Given the utter lack of independent media reports* on the MLS preseason, I figured now would be a good time as any to bring up an issue discussed during my Advanced News Writing class last semester.
(*By independent, I mean any reporting done by media not affiliated with MLSnet.com or any other official MLS club site.)
The question: will public relations eventually overtake journalism as the primary medium to which the public receives its information?
The line is certainly blurring. If you're in the Boston-metro region, just listen to WEEI, or read any local newspaper to discover that the vast majority of commentary surrounding the area's pro clubs is slanted favorably, rather than critically. Apparently, success breeds fondness in the journalistic arena as well.
Why is this? Well, it's easy. For starters, it's easy to say and print nice things when things are going great. It's human nature. But for journalists in particular, there's also the old saying: don't bite the hand that feeds you. With communications departments growing and newspapers dying, those very communication suits know they wield alot more power than they did twenty years ago. A lot more. A journalist who writes uncompromising columns may find his or her access to the team suddenly limited, thus making his or her job more difficult.
I've said it before. Although I'm sure the idea isn't especially original, I'll state it here anyway: sport success hampers critical sports journalism.
If a team is successful, the natural inclination is to report and emphasize on the spoils. The public wants it. The organization wants it, too. Because every inch of newspaper or white screen space that's filled with positives leaves less room for the negatives.
And there are negatives. Always. Even the most successful team has a collection of skeletons in its closets that it wants no journalist getting even the faintest sniff of. No organization, sports or otherwise, is squeaky clean. A good journalist will know where and how to find the negatives, if he or she is willing to give a critical account of any story. But he or she has to ask the questions 1. Will my editor approve?, and 2. How will this affect my relationship with the organization?
The second query is the most troublesome. Most editors have an understanding of the writer's plight. The truth, whether good or bad, is always out there. Even if that truth is ugly or unflattering, it does exist. A good editor will encourage his writers to find these truths, good, bad, or ugly.
The problem then becomes whether a piece will offend the organization, and if so, the consequences.
I can tell you from personal experience that some clubs employ the use of "special lists" comprised of journalists who receive "bonus" information aside from the general press releases. More often than not - though not all, mind you - these are the same journalists who essentially provide lip service on behalf of the organization. Spin control, if you will. Seven game slide? Not the coach's fault. It's injuries. Striker's embarrassing performance? Not his fault - he tweaked a hamstring. And so on.
Curiously, this is especially true in American soccer, despite the fact that the number of soccer journalists are easily surpassed by their colleagues in the Big Four. Why this is can only be attributed to the same personal and professional battles waged for the past 90 years.
So with the power clearly in the communications field, and more independent media dying by the day, what can journalists do?
Easy: the job that their profession calls for. I know that's blunt and oversimplified, and often difficult in a world where journalism's pulse seems to be growing fainter by the day. But all journalists, in theory, abide by a code - an ethical code we learned when many of us took our first journalism classes. It advises us to be, in a nutshell, thorough, honest, and accountable. Sometimes, those criteria clash with an organization's image. Tough.
For journalists, it all boils down to "what's easy" versus "what's right." It's easy to accentuate the positives. The organization will give you all the information you need, and then some. It's difficult, and sometimes torturous, to shed light on the negatives. Journalists often find little to no cooperation in those types of endeavors.
But the reward associated with abiding by that code, sticking to one's guns, and reporting on the truth gives any respectable journalist something that even the most fortressed PR department cannot take away: the personal satisfaction of a job well-executed.
(*By independent, I mean any reporting done by media not affiliated with MLSnet.com or any other official MLS club site.)
The question: will public relations eventually overtake journalism as the primary medium to which the public receives its information?
The line is certainly blurring. If you're in the Boston-metro region, just listen to WEEI, or read any local newspaper to discover that the vast majority of commentary surrounding the area's pro clubs is slanted favorably, rather than critically. Apparently, success breeds fondness in the journalistic arena as well.
Why is this? Well, it's easy. For starters, it's easy to say and print nice things when things are going great. It's human nature. But for journalists in particular, there's also the old saying: don't bite the hand that feeds you. With communications departments growing and newspapers dying, those very communication suits know they wield alot more power than they did twenty years ago. A lot more. A journalist who writes uncompromising columns may find his or her access to the team suddenly limited, thus making his or her job more difficult.
I've said it before. Although I'm sure the idea isn't especially original, I'll state it here anyway: sport success hampers critical sports journalism.
If a team is successful, the natural inclination is to report and emphasize on the spoils. The public wants it. The organization wants it, too. Because every inch of newspaper or white screen space that's filled with positives leaves less room for the negatives.
And there are negatives. Always. Even the most successful team has a collection of skeletons in its closets that it wants no journalist getting even the faintest sniff of. No organization, sports or otherwise, is squeaky clean. A good journalist will know where and how to find the negatives, if he or she is willing to give a critical account of any story. But he or she has to ask the questions 1. Will my editor approve?, and 2. How will this affect my relationship with the organization?
The second query is the most troublesome. Most editors have an understanding of the writer's plight. The truth, whether good or bad, is always out there. Even if that truth is ugly or unflattering, it does exist. A good editor will encourage his writers to find these truths, good, bad, or ugly.
The problem then becomes whether a piece will offend the organization, and if so, the consequences.
I can tell you from personal experience that some clubs employ the use of "special lists" comprised of journalists who receive "bonus" information aside from the general press releases. More often than not - though not all, mind you - these are the same journalists who essentially provide lip service on behalf of the organization. Spin control, if you will. Seven game slide? Not the coach's fault. It's injuries. Striker's embarrassing performance? Not his fault - he tweaked a hamstring. And so on.
Curiously, this is especially true in American soccer, despite the fact that the number of soccer journalists are easily surpassed by their colleagues in the Big Four. Why this is can only be attributed to the same personal and professional battles waged for the past 90 years.
So with the power clearly in the communications field, and more independent media dying by the day, what can journalists do?
Easy: the job that their profession calls for. I know that's blunt and oversimplified, and often difficult in a world where journalism's pulse seems to be growing fainter by the day. But all journalists, in theory, abide by a code - an ethical code we learned when many of us took our first journalism classes. It advises us to be, in a nutshell, thorough, honest, and accountable. Sometimes, those criteria clash with an organization's image. Tough.
For journalists, it all boils down to "what's easy" versus "what's right." It's easy to accentuate the positives. The organization will give you all the information you need, and then some. It's difficult, and sometimes torturous, to shed light on the negatives. Journalists often find little to no cooperation in those types of endeavors.
But the reward associated with abiding by that code, sticking to one's guns, and reporting on the truth gives any respectable journalist something that even the most fortressed PR department cannot take away: the personal satisfaction of a job well-executed.
Monday, March 02, 2009
NOT FOR NOTHING, BUT...
MLS is begging for a star. Not a good player, not a great player, not a designated player.
A star. A player that transcends the sport. A colorful personality that is known for his on and off the field exploits, whether good or bad. Preferably good, of course.
The NFL has Tom Brady. The NBA has LeBron. MLB has, whether it likes it or not, Alex Rodriguez. And, of course, golf has this guy named Tiger. MLS has…?
No one.
Not even David Beckham. Yes, Becks transcends the soccer world by attending these glitzy Hollywood shindigs with Posh and TomKat, but it’s different with him. He’s English. He’s not American. He's not one of our own, so to speak. Brady, A-Rod, and LeBron are ours. American. Nevermind the fact that they make more money than we can ever imagine – they’re still one of us. They watch TV like us, eat hamburgers, and speak the same way we do. Becks? Not so much.
So who will step forward? Which American soccer player right here, in Major League Soccer, will give the league the avatar it needs to further establish itself here on our shores?
*Speaking of establishing itself, here’s hoping that Women’s Professional Soccer doesn’t adhere to the same model that MLS is currently following.
*For those wearing rose-colored shades: only eight days until Becks reports back to Galaxy camp!
*It’s March 1st, and up to 15 inches of snow is predicted to fall within the next 24 hours. Anyone still think MLS should adhere to the international schedule?
*I don’t care what anyone says, expansion is not what MLS should be doing right now, not after the commissioner – yes, commissioner – of the NFL just gave himself a 20% salary cut to save costs. The NFL. Cutting costs. Note MLS: Wake up.
*Among the preseason whispers this preseason is the sentiment that first overall pick Steve Zukuani, whose knock is that he shies away from contact, will not pan out in a physical league like MLS.
*Another preseason whisper is that Juan Carlos Osario has exactly half a season to prove that last season’s late run was not a fluke.
*Which, unfortunately for JCO, is exactly what it was.
*Houston may not see another MLS Cup championship for awhile.
*This week’s quiz: which former New Bedford Whaler missed participating in his club’s 1932 championship game while backstopping for the Boston Red Sox?
*By my unofficial count, I’ve already seen one more commercial for WPS than for MLS.
*Which means I’ve seen zero MLS commercials at all this year, not even the local Revolution broadcast spots.
*Just so you know, the Revolution are playing three preseason matches this year. Three as in one, two, three matches. Three as in 270* minutes of preseason fare.
(*Thank you, Ron.)
*And there’s not truth to the rumor that it’s only three because Steve Nicol says his players are still tired from last season’s schedule.
*Going into its third season of MLS, Toronto has a soccer spec stadium, wealth of season ticket holders, and now, it has bought – yes, bought – its very first player via transfer.
*Which begs the question: what the heck are other MLS clubs doing while this is taking place? Playing MLS Fantasy?
*In case you haven’t noticed by now, I’m rooting for WPS to succeed, if only to teach MLS how to run a professional soccer league successfully.
*Line of the Week this week is actually an entire training tip straight from Chicago Red Star’s Lindsay Tarpley, courtesy of ussoccer.com:
BRING A LOT OF SOCCER BALLS WHEN DOING FINISHING “This may sound silly, but the more balls you have the more repetition you can get without wasting time chasing balls. A lot of things I do only require one ball, but when I start hitting shots or crosses, the more soccer balls I have the better. If you are a young player, start collecting soccer balls now!”
*For the record, there are nine soccer balls sitting in my backyard. Still working on the finishing myself.
*From the Captain Obvious Files: Kobe Bryant, recently outfitted as a Barca player on the cover of ESPN the Magazine, should have MLS hitting up his agent for some potential Kobe-MLS promos.
*Paul Gardner suggests that the use of larger goals and extra points for goals scored would prevent soccer from falling into oblivion in the February 2009 issue of World Soccer.
*The funny thing is neither idea is really that original, or foreign. The USISL experimented with larger goals in 1995, and the NASL awarded extra points for goals back in the late-70s.
*Don’t forget to remember that while you’re shoveling another thick, 14-inch blanket of snow out of your driveway, that not only is First Kick 2009 20 days away, but that WPS’s inaugural match is only 29 days away as well. MLS and WPS: it warms your heart even when there’s 14 inches of snow on the ground.
A star. A player that transcends the sport. A colorful personality that is known for his on and off the field exploits, whether good or bad. Preferably good, of course.
The NFL has Tom Brady. The NBA has LeBron. MLB has, whether it likes it or not, Alex Rodriguez. And, of course, golf has this guy named Tiger. MLS has…?
No one.
Not even David Beckham. Yes, Becks transcends the soccer world by attending these glitzy Hollywood shindigs with Posh and TomKat, but it’s different with him. He’s English. He’s not American. He's not one of our own, so to speak. Brady, A-Rod, and LeBron are ours. American. Nevermind the fact that they make more money than we can ever imagine – they’re still one of us. They watch TV like us, eat hamburgers, and speak the same way we do. Becks? Not so much.
So who will step forward? Which American soccer player right here, in Major League Soccer, will give the league the avatar it needs to further establish itself here on our shores?
*Speaking of establishing itself, here’s hoping that Women’s Professional Soccer doesn’t adhere to the same model that MLS is currently following.
*For those wearing rose-colored shades: only eight days until Becks reports back to Galaxy camp!
*It’s March 1st, and up to 15 inches of snow is predicted to fall within the next 24 hours. Anyone still think MLS should adhere to the international schedule?
*I don’t care what anyone says, expansion is not what MLS should be doing right now, not after the commissioner – yes, commissioner – of the NFL just gave himself a 20% salary cut to save costs. The NFL. Cutting costs. Note MLS: Wake up.
*Among the preseason whispers this preseason is the sentiment that first overall pick Steve Zukuani, whose knock is that he shies away from contact, will not pan out in a physical league like MLS.
*Another preseason whisper is that Juan Carlos Osario has exactly half a season to prove that last season’s late run was not a fluke.
*Which, unfortunately for JCO, is exactly what it was.
*Houston may not see another MLS Cup championship for awhile.
*This week’s quiz: which former New Bedford Whaler missed participating in his club’s 1932 championship game while backstopping for the Boston Red Sox?
*By my unofficial count, I’ve already seen one more commercial for WPS than for MLS.
*Which means I’ve seen zero MLS commercials at all this year, not even the local Revolution broadcast spots.
*Just so you know, the Revolution are playing three preseason matches this year. Three as in one, two, three matches. Three as in 270* minutes of preseason fare.
(*Thank you, Ron.)
*And there’s not truth to the rumor that it’s only three because Steve Nicol says his players are still tired from last season’s schedule.
*Going into its third season of MLS, Toronto has a soccer spec stadium, wealth of season ticket holders, and now, it has bought – yes, bought – its very first player via transfer.
*Which begs the question: what the heck are other MLS clubs doing while this is taking place? Playing MLS Fantasy?
*In case you haven’t noticed by now, I’m rooting for WPS to succeed, if only to teach MLS how to run a professional soccer league successfully.
*Line of the Week this week is actually an entire training tip straight from Chicago Red Star’s Lindsay Tarpley, courtesy of ussoccer.com:
BRING A LOT OF SOCCER BALLS WHEN DOING FINISHING “This may sound silly, but the more balls you have the more repetition you can get without wasting time chasing balls. A lot of things I do only require one ball, but when I start hitting shots or crosses, the more soccer balls I have the better. If you are a young player, start collecting soccer balls now!”
*For the record, there are nine soccer balls sitting in my backyard. Still working on the finishing myself.
*From the Captain Obvious Files: Kobe Bryant, recently outfitted as a Barca player on the cover of ESPN the Magazine, should have MLS hitting up his agent for some potential Kobe-MLS promos.
*Paul Gardner suggests that the use of larger goals and extra points for goals scored would prevent soccer from falling into oblivion in the February 2009 issue of World Soccer.
*The funny thing is neither idea is really that original, or foreign. The USISL experimented with larger goals in 1995, and the NASL awarded extra points for goals back in the late-70s.
*Don’t forget to remember that while you’re shoveling another thick, 14-inch blanket of snow out of your driveway, that not only is First Kick 2009 20 days away, but that WPS’s inaugural match is only 29 days away as well. MLS and WPS: it warms your heart even when there’s 14 inches of snow on the ground.
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