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I watched quite a bit of Ghana-Germany at the gym this afternoon. I am trying, really trying, to get over my natural dislike of this sport that we (and only we) call soccer.
There were plenty of opportunities to get past it, many of them back when we lived in Rochester, a longtime hotbed of the sport for both genders. Back in the first 1970s wave of US soccer craze- well, more like a mild neurosis- Rochester had an NASL team that faced the likes of Pele and the other New York Cosmos at a near-condemned stadium that almost collapsed from the wild crowds. After the current US incarnation of "major league soccer" came along in the early 90s, Rochester began fielding a majorly supported team at the first level below, known as the Rhinos, which actually beat several MLS teams to win the sport's officially highest national title, the open-competition known as the US Open Cup, in 1999. When the US hosted the World Cup in 1994, many televisions (including that of my then-stylist Salvatore) were turned to the matches, and not just to the host team's. And for the past decade, Rochester native Abby Wambach has been the most famed of the second generation of US Women's National Team players (perhaps tied with Hope Solo, but her hopes just took a hit earlier today with some nasty domestic violence charges).
I should like this, then, right? I know; I have the prejudices against. Domestic sports honks belittle the "beautiful game" with references to orange slices, Capri Sun boxes and surrounding the stadium with minivans. And, until ESPN got in bed with FIFA to air the games a few years back, their talkers did exactly the same, but as soon as the World Wide Leader had skin in the game, they suddenly gave it a bunch of cred. Hockey remains the only major sport effectively banned in Bristol.
Ah, hockey. Another reason I should relate to these contests. The basic rules are parallel: forward-line players attack, back-enders defend, the goalie has much more latitude in terms of touching and distributing the object of the game, and there's near-constant action. If anything, I should see soccer as a beautiful blend of American football and hockey, and like it even better because there are no bullshit TV timeouts or two-minute warnings or endless replay reviews.
After close to an hour of Germany-Ghana, though, I'm convinced that the conception of "Assoc" was actually a gruesome threesome- of the NFL, the NHL, and the DMV. Because so much of this sport is in your face with a "that's the way we do it, take it or leave it" attitude that it obscures much of what I would, I think, otherwise truly like.
I won't even get into the distasteful aspects of it that don't really affect things in the games or in the standings- like hooliganism, or FIFA's monumentally corrupt culture that wound up awarding the next two future World Cups to Russia and Dubai (the latter ridiculously hot, the former ridiculously unsportsmanlike). Rather, these are my beefs with the things that count, all of them witnessed in this test match from today:
( Does anybody really know what time it is? )
( Oh, sorry, I meant match. )
( Speaking of that T, um, D word.... )
( And, finally, the really sleazy stuff )
Yet despite all that? I'll probably watch Team USA tomorrow night, and root root root for my country. I just have no idea for how long.
There were plenty of opportunities to get past it, many of them back when we lived in Rochester, a longtime hotbed of the sport for both genders. Back in the first 1970s wave of US soccer craze- well, more like a mild neurosis- Rochester had an NASL team that faced the likes of Pele and the other New York Cosmos at a near-condemned stadium that almost collapsed from the wild crowds. After the current US incarnation of "major league soccer" came along in the early 90s, Rochester began fielding a majorly supported team at the first level below, known as the Rhinos, which actually beat several MLS teams to win the sport's officially highest national title, the open-competition known as the US Open Cup, in 1999. When the US hosted the World Cup in 1994, many televisions (including that of my then-stylist Salvatore) were turned to the matches, and not just to the host team's. And for the past decade, Rochester native Abby Wambach has been the most famed of the second generation of US Women's National Team players (perhaps tied with Hope Solo, but her hopes just took a hit earlier today with some nasty domestic violence charges).
I should like this, then, right? I know; I have the prejudices against. Domestic sports honks belittle the "beautiful game" with references to orange slices, Capri Sun boxes and surrounding the stadium with minivans. And, until ESPN got in bed with FIFA to air the games a few years back, their talkers did exactly the same, but as soon as the World Wide Leader had skin in the game, they suddenly gave it a bunch of cred. Hockey remains the only major sport effectively banned in Bristol.
Ah, hockey. Another reason I should relate to these contests. The basic rules are parallel: forward-line players attack, back-enders defend, the goalie has much more latitude in terms of touching and distributing the object of the game, and there's near-constant action. If anything, I should see soccer as a beautiful blend of American football and hockey, and like it even better because there are no bullshit TV timeouts or two-minute warnings or endless replay reviews.
After close to an hour of Germany-Ghana, though, I'm convinced that the conception of "Assoc" was actually a gruesome threesome- of the NFL, the NHL, and the DMV. Because so much of this sport is in your face with a "that's the way we do it, take it or leave it" attitude that it obscures much of what I would, I think, otherwise truly like.
I won't even get into the distasteful aspects of it that don't really affect things in the games or in the standings- like hooliganism, or FIFA's monumentally corrupt culture that wound up awarding the next two future World Cups to Russia and Dubai (the latter ridiculously hot, the former ridiculously unsportsmanlike). Rather, these are my beefs with the things that count, all of them witnessed in this test match from today:
( Does anybody really know what time it is? )
( Oh, sorry, I meant match. )
( Speaking of that T, um, D word.... )
( And, finally, the really sleazy stuff )
Yet despite all that? I'll probably watch Team USA tomorrow night, and root root root for my country. I just have no idea for how long.