Bullpen Pro, I think you make some excellent, logical points. The hot chicks thing---it was meant as a joke. I think it's very difficult for the passion of the supporters to come through in a thread, but I'll give it a shot. It's a personal account, and very long, so bear with me. In 1970 as a 12 year old in Richardson, Texas (Dallas suburb), the students in my English class were given an assignment to write an essay on a subject we knew nothing about. That night I rode my bike to the newly opened Richardson Public Library and went straight to the sports section. I played baseball and football for a few years and loved sports, so my task was to find a sport I "knew nothing about." I walked through the aisles until my eyes set on a book on the very bottom row of one shelf. To this day I can't remember the title but it was a soccer book on tactics and techniques compiled by the English Football Association. I vaguely remembered soccer games from England being shown on ABC's Wide World of Sports but that was all I knew about the sport, which meant I knew nothing. I checked out the book and set about the task of writing my essay. As I skimmed the book to pull material for my assignment (I rarely read books cover to cover at that age), I noticed the author describe a position called midfielder as one that required a lot of running, generally more than 6 miles a game. The previous summer I spent a few weeks with my grandmother in Kemp, Texas, riding horses and eating at her fantastic Gateway Cafe. Seems I ate enough chicken fried steak and homemade ice cream that summer to put on a few pounds. As I read this book on soccer and all the running midfielders did, I started to wonder if there were any local teams to play for. As it turns out, Richardson Jr. High was trying to assemble its very first soccer team. Try-outs were being held the following Saturday. I vaguely knew a classmate named Mark Plugge and it turned out his father was trying to put the team together. The first "try-out" wasn't exactly very challenging. Only 8 guys showed up, 3 short of what we needed just to field a team. This was Texas. Football country. The kind with pads. Obviously. Anyway, over the next couple of weeks word got around about this new sport called soccer and we went into our first season with 13 players: 8 Americans, 3 Canadians and 1 Guatemalan. I was the only natural left-footer on the team, had a bit of a mean streak, and that was enough to make the left midfield position my own. We played against mostly Catholic and other private schools who all had strong immigrant influences in their coaches and players. We got thumped pretty good early on but we improved consistently and were competitive as the months and years wore on. To be continued...
The Dallas area, particularly North Dallas, was becoming quite a hotbed for soccer and was heavily influenced by the Dallas Tornado of the old North American Soccer League. The Cowboys obviously owned the city's sports landscape as there was no local NBA or MLB franchise at the time, but the Tornado drew decent crowds, mostly kids in their soccer uniforms and their parents/coaches. I'll try to speed this along.... It seemed my love for the game grew every time I stepped on the field. I had a stepfather who was a "typical" Texan of his generation: former high school football star, golden gloves boxer and Marine. He HATED soccer and never gave me a moment's peace about it or anything resembling support. He called it a sissy sport and constantly ridiculed me for playing, saying "real men play football"....over and over and over again... And the more he said it, the more I dug my heels in, determined to show him he was wrong. I think my relationship with him more than explains the replies I give to SpoFi members who come here bashing the sport. Yea, I admit it. It opens old, deep, very personal wounds. Anyway... ...as I said, the more I played, the more I loved it, and the more I had a point to prove. It wasn't easy to find kids to kick the ball around with back then and I would spend hours upon hours by myself at the football field close to where I lived, Greenville Ave. Stadium. The admintrative offices for the school district were right next to the stadium and I would spend hours there alone, as long as it was light outside, kicking the ball against those red-bricked buildings. To become better, I would kick with my left foot, then my right; kick it high, kick it low, hit it first time, head it, trap the ball with chest, thigh, feet....every part of my body except the arms and hands...over and over and over. Then I would go over to the field and run sprints with the ball, slaloming in and out of imaginary defenders and taking shots at invisible goals. I would then drop down and do push-ups and sit-ups until my muscles burned and I was completely exhausted, then I would have a drink of water and do it again. I became a good player, not great, just good, and that extra weight I put on that summer of '69 was long gone. I could run all day and in the summers, that's exactly what I did. From 1968, there was a team selected for a summer tour of England called the Texas Longohorns, nothing to do with the University. They were coached by an ex-pat from Blackpool, England, named Ron Griffith. (This is the first I've seen of the story in the link...gonna have a closer look when I'm done here...for chrissakes.) Anyway, the Longhorns of the early days were the most respected amateur soccer club in all of Texas and every decent player worth his salt wanted to play for them. In 1974, I was lucky enough to be selected to play for them and tour England. I can't even begin to describe how excited and proud I was to make that team...and I had done it in four years. All that work had paid off, and I was a Longhorn. I was selected in March 1974 for the tour departing that July and in the months leading up to the trip, I've never given so much physically to anything, and that includes Air Force boot camp, which I was to experience 3 years later. I'm telling you, we were fit. Doing that much running and exercise in the Texas heat will take a player to a level of fitness he had never known before. There were 40 players selected for the '74 tour, making up 3 teams. I played games for the second and third teams. I didn't have the skill to make the first team but I had the attitude, effort and fitness to do reasonably well against easily the most difficult competition I ever came up against in the English club players. They were much more physical than anything we came across in the States and it was immediately apparent why we were drilled into such physical conditioning. I'm not even going to compare it to training for American football because the physical requirements of the two sports are so different. The only thing I can say about them is that of you haven't played both sports, you really don't understand how challening they are in their own, unique way. We played 10 games...in 19 days... winning 3, losing 5 and drawing 2. At the end of the trip, we were absolutely exhausted, even though most of us were 16-18 years old. I was 6' at the time, weighing 166 pounds before the trip. When I got back to Texas, I weighed 152. OK, the crap food was part of the reason for the weight loss, but it was mainly because of the running and fitness work...yea, it was all stepped up a notch by the trainers in England. I could use some of those workouts today... TBC...
Fast forward 30 years.... Four years and two days ago, I was cautiously revved up for the U.S.'s first group game against Portugal. Portugal were heavy favorites and the U.S. was coming off a horrible performance in France '98, finishing 32nd out of 32 teams, allowing 5 goals, scoring zero. France was such a disappointment after a decent performance on home soil in '94. We beat Colombia to get out of the first round before losing to Brazil and American soccer fans felt there was something to build on. The performance in France '98 was a real eye-opener and we knew we had a long, long way to go to compete at the top level and earn respectability. In that first game for the U.S. against Portugal in '02, you could see the cockiness in the Europeans right from the kick-off, and rightly so. They had some of the best players in the world, including Luis Figo, 2001 World Player of the Year. As a long-suffering American soccer fan, the most I could hope for is that we wouldn't be embarrassed. Kick-off was 4:00 a.m. Houston time and I set my alarm for 3:30 so I could splash some water on my face with still enough time to whip up a couple of breakfast tacos. I had just finished that first taco when John O'Brien snuck in at the back post to blast in the first goal with his left foot off a save from a Brian McBride header! It was 4 minutes into the game and the U.S. was up 1-0! I swear I thought I was in a dream....I jumped up out of my chair and was running around my apartment screaming!!! We had the lead....hell...we SCORED! Which was more than we did in France! A couple of tears somehow found their way down my cheeks and after all the jumping up and down and screaming I did, I just stood there with my arms folded...completely frozen. I kept looking at the score and shaking my head. I couldn't believe what I was seeing! We were leading! Against Portugal!!! Amazing. Absolutely amazing. My blood pressure was almost back to normal and I had returned to my recliner when....holy shit...Landon Donovan crosses the ball, it takes a deflection off a Portugal defender, competely wrong-footing their 'keeper....and it's 2-0 USA!!!!!! I tell you...I was out of my head! 2-0 in the 30th minute and you can see the frustration all over the faces of the Portuguese. And then, before I had a chance to catch my breath, Brian McBride makes a run to the back post and Tony Sanneh's cross is inch perfect: 3-0 USA!!!!! I'm dancing. I'm screaming. Tears streaming down my face. I couldn't believe it...COULDN'T BELIEVE IT!. We're up 3-0 at halftime against a world soccer power, a country many were predicting to win this World Cup. And we're in the lead. The United States. Leading Portugal. 3-0! In the second half Portugal responds as expected, pulling 2 goals back and looking every bit like they might win the game, pull it even at least. But just when they need the ball the most, the last five minutes of the game, they can't get it from us, and more than anything, this next bit might explain why most of the play seems to be long, drawn out attempts to transition to the other side of the field, there seem to be precious few serious attempts at the net. Portugal can't get the ball off us and they touch the ball only 2 or 3 times in those last 5 minutes. If they can't gain possession of the ball, they can't score. It's like a game of high stakes keep-away: make the other team chase the game (ball) and they're going to get frustrated and tired. It's strategic and done with absolute intent. The game ends 3-2 USA. We go on to get out of our group, beat Mexico 2-0 in the first knockout stage before losing 1-0 to Germany in the quarterfinals in a game we could have won. There was a massive lesson learned in that game against Germany as well; big soccer teams know how to win and kill off a game, even if they're not at their best on the day. I'm just about done...couple of more points to address... ...a guy falling to the ground as if he's shot when someone kicks his ankle...going so far as to get carried off on a stretcher sometimes...then when the card comes out they're suddenly fine and able to go on... Believe me, supporters of countries who play the game with integrity feel the same way. Fortunately, your country is one of those, along with (in this World Cup) England, Australia, to a lesser extent Germany, Sweden and Switzerland. IMO, diving is an absolute cancer on the game and I abhor it. The sad thing is, even for the countries I've listed here, if the situation is desperate enough, players will dive to get a call, especially in the penalty box. from my view of soccer you have a lot of people just standing around as well The game is so demanding that players will grab a breath when they can. Remember, there are no timeouts, and the only break is 15 minutes at halftime, the games are 90 minutes long, only 3 substitutions maximum and once a player comes out, he can't go back in. Have a look at the thread Mr. Bismark referenced. Saying the players are just standing around isn't looking at the totality of the game and what they put their bodies through. You have have to see not just the running involved but the starting, stopping, jumping, sliding, shielding the ball with your body, some all-out sprinting, not to mention the mental part of the game. It's unbelievably draining. Combine all this with the fact that the top players compete in about 70 games in a World Cup year and you'll see why they should take a break when they can. Also...back to the diving issue...players feigning injury is also a way to give himself and his teammates and yes, even the opposition, a breather. Remember, no timeouts. And...I haven't even touched touched on how incredibly difficult it is to master a ball without the use of your hands. I think people who haven't played the sport other than a kick-around in the schoolyard have no idea the amount of effort it's taken for these players to become as skilled as they are. And then there's the reading of the game, the peripheral vision.....don't get me started! Heh. OK...you'll all be glad to know...that's it from me. If I type another word other than submitting my picks in the World Cup Confidence Pool between now and Friday, you all have the right to tell me to STFU!
Excuse my math in part I above...it was 9 Americans... I know, I know...STFU!
Nice Texan, nice. (Although I was trying to divide 94 into 5280 in my head and you struggled with 8+3+1...) A left foot and a mean streak have kept me as a first choice footballer for some 30 years now. Four years ago a left foot would get you near the England team.
That is a wonderful story Texan. Mine is a little similar. I played baseball and basketball growing up and once I began to watch soccer, I wanted to play. I bought a ball and went out to some of the local fields here in Atlanta and began playing by myself. I met some Indian guys (from England) and began playing with them year round for about 9 years until last year when I tore my ACL playing in a league at the still being built Silverbacks stadium (artificial turf). I am getting back to the point now where I think I can play again and I can't wait to get back out there. And for garfield, 'ignorants' is a word I've used since I can remember even though I know it's improper.
All I can say is after getting laid off from Sun in 2001 and finding what was then Fox Sports World on cable I've become a voracious fan. I barely watch NFL after it being 'appointment TV' for my entire life and forget just about any other sport. Well, Australian Rules Football and USC football are cool. Frankly nowadays I watch matches like a hawk, using the Tivo remote like a precision tool to get my own instant replays and making unkind remarks to my wife is she stands in front of the TV. Even if the backline is playing possession. People can watch what they like, no problem for me, and I can't seem to enjoy NCAA soccer either, though I did watch some of the youth world cups last year. MLS, as most of you know, lost me with the way they stole the Earthquakes but that's not to do with quality of play. I know how Baltimore Colts fans feel now.
The ironic part is that most of the people who've told me baseball was boring were soccer fans, though they seem much better about interupting baseball discussions with their dislike of baseball. Does that mean they are good at interrupting, or good about NOT interrupting? In either case, I hope I am not the baseball fan interrupting a soccer discussion -- I was genuinely trying to get involved with what the post and the thread were discussing, that being the relationship between soccer and Americans. I am glad my post inspired more civil response than the "soccer sux" crowd usually, deservedly, get. I wasn't trying to take a cheap swipe, and I am really pleased by the impassioned responses, pariticularly by Tex (holy cow, Tex) and Ricardo. They have certainly served to make me a fan of Texan_lost_in_NY and Ricardo, if not the game. Thanks for the effort -- I will definitely catch some of the WC games, and I will try to see the virtues in creative passing and the possession game. I'll let you know how it goes. In the meantime, I'll be interested in seeing what develops in this thread.
Ricardo, I was just riffing on the over-arching 'ignorant' theme of this thread. I'm not much for correcting spelling, grammar, etc, as I'm an offender myself. Thanks for taking it in stride...'ignorants' has been added to my own vocabulary. NYTex, what are you Dickens? Getting paid by the word, I mean. Great stuff.
Great story Texan. It would've made a fantastic column. In fact, it still could. Think about it.. I would also just like to echo those people who think soccer is wimpy. Dudes, clearly, you've never played it. It requires more fitness than anything I've ever played (hockey, baseball, tennis, golf, volleyball - all poorly) and I played barely twice. Also the level of skill is greater than those other games as well. It's the beautiful game - beccause it's at once simple (rules, objectives) and unbelevably taxing and strategic. Such a wonderful thing.
Thanks for the comments guys. I really do appreciate it. You never know what to expect when you put something so personal out there. Thanks again. I considered a column submittal, Weedy, but BullPenPro wrote his reasoned post and I hoped my experience would be a worthy reply. If the powers that be are interested in the story being a column, I'm certainly up for it. Of course I'll have to tidy up my math...8+3+1=.... 30 years after 1974 is...
