Hoo, boy! If you’re ever lonely, bring up the subject of soccer.
You’ll have more people to talk to than you have time for, especially if you make fun of the game.
I did that about a month ago. Being the typical Ugly American, I questioned the popularity of the World Cup, quoted writers who didn’t particularly like the game (one I missed: Jim Murray’s classic – “I’d tell you the final score, but there wasn’t any.”) and waited for the fallout.
I wasn’t the only one. I’m sure Tom Powers of the St. Paul Pioneer Press found some new friends when he wrote this gem: “All the Department of Security has to do is monitor the city-by-city television ratings of this month’s World Cup soccer tournament. Agents should be dispatched to any area in which the ratings reflect an unnaturally high level of interest. That likely signals a concentrated pocket of illegals.”
The reaction from Powers’ column likely was similar to that of mine: “… moron …” or “… quit your job, idiot …” or “… move to Beirut …”
So this past week, I came clean.
Said I watched much of the tournament. Said I appreciated the athleticism. Said I enjoyed the passion and color. And I did, all of it – with the exception of the use of penalty kicks to decide the World Cup final.
The reaction of the majority: “You’re right, but you’re still a moron.”
I consider that a major victory.
I might be able to show my face at the Bothell home of Martin Kudlich, a native of Austria, who wrote: “Needless to say, I thought your original piece betrayed American ignorance about soccer in general and your personal ignorance in particular … However and surprisingly, in the aftermath of this World Cup, there is a lot that I agree with in your latest commentary … The PK is a lot like a coup de grace. That said, they are a true pain and in most cases, I turn the TV off once a match gets there and catch up on the results later on the Web or in the newspaper.”
Glad to see I’m winning some over, even operating under the burden of my own personal ignorance.
Ian Elliott doesn’t like penalty kicks, either, but that didn’t stop him from lobbing a pretty good salvo aimed at my head: “Instead of mocking an obvious truth, why don’t you just get out there and try it? I love how all you American ‘journalists’ try to write about soccer without even a cursory understanding of the game. Get your rear end off your high horse and educate yourself. You have a pen, so you are an expert.”
I’ll try soccer, Ian, the day you try bull riding.
Somebody named Bob gave grudging praise with this e-mail: “Really don’t care for your ragging on the world’s greatest game, but I do agree with you on one and only one point: the game should continue until someone scores and play out the remaining time for the overtime period. Then the match is over.”
Let’s get one thing straight, Bob. The world’s greatest game is blackjack. No contest.
Finally, this from reader Tom Scott, who describes himself as a former player (“a poor player on a poor team at a very low recreational level” and coach:
“I and many of my hardcore soccer friends would like to see the knockout games to be played to a conclusion. If nothing else, it might change some coaching philosophies, tempting coaches to take more risks in the attempt to score during regulation, instead of sitting back in a defensive mode.”
That’s right, people. Together, we can clean up the sport. No more PKs. No more passive strategy. It may take the next four years, but we can make World Cup the spectacle it deserves to be. Rah-rah!
Onward. South Africa. 2010.
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