Soccer: January 2007 Archives

These are the moments in a professional footballer's life that make all the blood, sweat, and tears worth it.

I guess it doesn't get more definitive than that. Gooch is now officially on loan to Newcastle United. Initially, it seems weird that it's a loan deal, but it makes sense when you consider Newcastle probably doesn't have the money, but desperately need defenders, and Gooch figures that he shows well for 6 months and gets the attention of a Big 4 club.

Oddly enough, even though he didn't sign for Fulham, he'll probably debut for NUFC against Fulham this weekend. Tragically, this game is only on Setanta Xtra, which as far as I know, is carried by absolutely no one. Curse you, International Soccer Television Gods!

Well, it looks as though Gooch will be bring The Stare back to France, this time for Marseille, where he'll play alongside the likes of Ribery and Cisse. As sad as I am not to see him suit up for Fulham, Marseille should be an excellent environment: G-14 club, Champions League possibilities, southern French coast... could be worse. Of course, it may get worse if those Sven Goran Eriksson rumors are true. *shudder*

Fulham put a nice cap on their decent transfer window showing by getting the signature of Russian veteran Alexey Smertin. It's been a while since I've seen Smertin... in fact, it was either in that dreaded Chelsea kit, or shortly before he was unceremoniously dropped from the Russian nats due to a spat with the coach. Well, regardless, I always have a soft spot for non-billionaire-oil-tycoon Russians in the Prem, even more so when they play for Chelsea's rivals. Davai, Alyosha!

UPDATE: Go to bed with one story, wake up to another. Gooch might still be going to yet ANOTHER club, this time up north at Newcastle. Three more days, Gooch, make up your mind!

First of all, a brief shoutout of good luck to my beloved UrbanHonking AC, who take on (are probably taking on as I type this) Dudes FC in their second Rivals Cup fixture, because I'm unable to join them tonight. Godspeed, gentlemen.

So your intrepid author, stereotypical Oregon hippie that he is (vegetarian? check. SE Portland address? check. socialist leanings? check. big head of hippie hair plus beard? check.), types these words from a corporate-sponsored Hilton suite, deep, as they say, in the heart of lone star steak country. Said author's travelling companion is a Chicago native, obviously the original inspiration for Da Superfans, who planned his travel itinerary such that not a single moment of Da Bears playoff spectacular would be missed this Sunday. If this is beginning to sound like a bad 90's remake of The Odd Couple, you're not too far off the mark.

Being along for the ride anyway, I decided to accompany him and attempt to at least remember if not re-live some of the excitement I once had for the Broncos as a youth growing up outside of Denver. American Football and I have had a rocky relationship over the years. Loved it as a kid, played it in High School even though I knew in my heart the love was fading, swung to active hate during college, and faded back into mild indifference in the present as I race headlong towards my 30th birthday.

Kickoff commences, and the first thing that comes flooding back to me, other than the realization that my "ceaser" salad is sprinkled with bacon bits, is that I forgot about the commercials. Oh dear. I know how clichéd this sounds, but there is literally 30 seconds of action followed by 30 minutes of commercials. I don't know how such a terrible oversight occurred on my part. Having been tivo-enabled for the last 3 years or so, i've thankfully banished even regular length commercial breaks out of my life. I'm not equipped with the intestinal fortitude to make it through football-sized commercial breaks.

Each time they return, my sphincters unclench a bit and my mind resets into sports absorption mode again, but right when my bile has lowered and i'm ready for something exciting to happen, the requisite four plays are past and the advertising beast must be fed again. Hearing me groan once again, my companion says, "See, this is why soccer will never be big in America. Advertisers can't make any money when there's no breaks." Watching a Rock-Em-Sock-Em Robot take on a pickup truck for the 9th time, I think that's probably best for all parties, but instead I mumble something about MLS approving ads on the front of jerseys and pitch-side ad boards.

As the game progresses, I'm reminded how cut and dry American Football is. Since each team has, I think, 3 chances to score before "time" runs out, every possesion is either pure glory or utter failure. Or a field goal. (I'm told that one of the teams has two kickers. How much does it suck to be one of those guys? You would get 3 chances to touch the ball, but now you have to share those with some other guy. I bet he cries himself to sleep at night. On a pile of $100's.)

This also leaves no grey areas. How do NFL message board geeks get by on this? In soccer, one fan's Maradona is another fan's Joey Franchino, and neither get much definitive proof either way. Other than those two exact players, soccer talent, and soccer games, play out so much more elusively, on a long gradient from blah to bellissimo. There are fewer ways of quantifying what makes a soccer player "good", and the moments of pure joy in the beautiful game sometimes happen far away from the goals. And don't even get me started on the subject of stats unless you're ready to hear A Grumpy Old Man.

Eventually, we finish lunch, and my third Shiner (oh how woeful it is to be anywhere where the best beer available is Shiner). The Saints have crawled back into the game off of one moment of individual excellence from Reggie Bush. The Loch Ness Monster has attacked 5 more pickup trucks. My travelling partner either takes pity on me, or seriously wants to finish the game in his hotel room. I don't care which, because whatever game drama is beginning to solicit genuine interest is washed away with the salivating thought of checking my email.

So I wussed out. I wasn't man enough to take on the big boys. Although, apparently I didn't miss much afterwards, as New Orleans decided they were done for the evening. All I was left with was the thought: MLS needs "saving" so it can be more like this? Can you pass the sepukku knife?

Let's all give a hearty Yanks Abroad cheer (I can use that phrase without infringing copyright, can't I?) for Yank Abroad Jay DeMerit, who scored the game winner for Watford today against Yank Abroad Brad Friedel's Blackburn. That's probably one of the few times you'll see two Americans alone in the BBC's match photo. Good on ya, Jay! (I don't really know what that means, but that's what you're supposed to say, right?) That also puts DeMerit nipping at Shevchenko's heels for total Premiership goals this season, and I can't tell you how thrilling that is to write.

Watford have been the underdog's underdog this year, putting in gutsy performances but always being shown up in the end. With this only being their second win, they have a desperate need for strikers to start putting in goals. At the heart of defense, Jay has acquitted himself admirably with partner Danny Shittu, but Watford keep losing games they have every right to win because they couldn't score (as the saying goes) in a whorehouse with a fistful of 20's. I'm holding out every hope that they can stay up this year, but the clock is certainly ticking, and they're 7 points away from safety.

More coming later on the soccer fan's journey through the gauntlet of that Great American Sporting Ritual, the NFC Championships.

I think it's no coincidence that this weekend is sunny and warm after a good old-fashioned Portland "blizzard." It's merely [your preferred creator]'s way of showing [his/her/its] pleasure that UrbanHonking AC has finally snapped a torturous 8 game regular season losing streak (9 games in all competitions!).

And what better way to do it than against current Rivals Cup holders Albina Going FC? UrHo lead the entire game, the first of the regular-season Rivals Cup matches, after Josh Berezin once again started off the scoring (he's starting a tradition within a tradition, scoring first against the Unicorns). Albina fought back mercilessly throughout the fixture, though, and in the dying minutes, with the boys in green leading 5-2, unleashed their secret weapon: their keeper.

Not 20 seconds after switching spots with a field player, their 6-foot-14-inch keeper found net TWICE in 90 seconds. Being on the bench at the time, i gave the boys my best Sam Allardyce, berating them mercilessly for not bunkering in to salvage the game. Lady Luck would shine on us, though, as we managed to weather the dying seconds and sail through to a 5-4 victory. Huzzahs rang out across the city, and were it daylight out, you would have seen the break in the dark clouds announcing the dawning of a new day for UrbanHonking AC.

Speaking of new days, it was a pretty decent new day for the Deuce as he made his debut in the last 10 minutes for a 10-man Fulham (Helguson having received a second yellow for what was reportedly a rather soft tackle). having spent 45 seconds assessing the lay of the land, Dempsey picks Robbie Keane's pocket, delivers a "cheeky backheel" to Michael Brown, who passes to McBride. McBride's shot is handled in the box, and Montella converts the penalty. 1-0 Fulham, with the entire play set up by Dempsey!

Unfortunately, Tottenham struck back 4 minutes later off some shoddy keeping and the game ended in a draw. Dempsey really didn't have a chance to shine otherwise (interestingly, McBride's debut for Fulham was also against Tottenham, but he put in the game winner), but I'm salivating at the thought of him actually being match fit. Deadspin has a short bit that says he ran wind sprints after the game, even. Keep it up, Deuce!

And finally, has there ever been a more goofy transfer season for a Yank Abroad than the rumors currently swirling around Gooch? Linked with both Milans, Lyon, Fulham, and now those fucking blue bastards are after him. Gooch, I understand turning down Fulham if you think you've got a chance at a top level outfit (though I come down firmly pro playing-time-in-mid-level-club side vs. riding-the-pine-for-a-champion), but honestly, you're fucking dead to me if you put on that Chelsea kit. Cheers!

And lo, did BigSoccer thus have the world's largest collective, simultaneous tantric orgasm.

Yes indeed, sometimes Dreams Come True. *sniff* it's so beautiful.....

internet rumors around the fulham boards say gooch is either about to sign or is considering Italian courtiers, depending on who you choose to believe. Cookie, now that you're the new shadow USMNT coach, allow me to be the first to introduce you to a terrible and overplayed american cliche:

GIT R THE FUCK DUN!!!!11!!!.

Yes it is indeed true, however unfortunate. Valiantly we fought, but those black-hearted Unicorns managed to snatch away the inagural Rivals Cup trophy with four unanswered second half goals.

I was incredibly proud of our boys' performance. They showed terrific resolve right out of the gate, and we were rewarded for the efforts with the very first Rivals Cup goal, scored by Josh Berezin. Remember that name, because the 'Zin has lightning quickness and reads the game well. With his steadily improving technical skills, UrHo AC expects Josh to be a major contributor in the club's future.

As the first half drew on, Albina found net multiple times and clearly unsettled us, but we dug in and fought our way back to tie it up at the half. Players and coaches can all attest to the psychological importance of pulling back an equalizer before halftime, and the optimism in the Honking locker room was palpable. Unfortunately, we fell out of our rhythm at the beginning of the second half, and once we found it again we lacked the finishing touch. Still, though, our lads put together attack after attack and showed tremendous resolve to the end. Congrats to Albina Going for a well-fought match, but don't get too used to that trophy, because in two short weeks Unicorn vs. Pegasus kicks off the season-long race for the next Rivals Cup holder.

UrbanHonking was also pushed on by the "sixth man", our throng of deafening supporters, who cheered our double-stepovers and erupted in raucous noise at another diving save from keeper Gene Merrill (who had some beautiful clutch saves on the night). To our fine army of fans, we thank you and promise you honor and hardware very soon.

Special thanks also are due to the wonderful Paul Lomanto, owner/operator of Portland Futsal, for overseeing the festivities, and then getting his soccer-geek on with me post-game over drinks at the Brooklyn Park Pub. Whether talking about El Matador Byron Alvarez's past, present, and future, Gavin Wilkinson's probable upcoming squad, Bataan-Death-March-esque Training Camps for 14 year old futsal prodigies, or Bob Bradley's chances for success as the "interim" nats coach, Paul is an enthusiastic fan as much as he is a player, parent coach, and entrepenuer, and we're thrilled with his support of the Rivals Cup.

UrbanHonking AC kicks off their Winter II season against Sofa Kings, Thursday, Jan. 19th at 7:25pm.

Oh god. I think Fulham's finally decided to out and out corner the market on Yanks abroad:

Chris Coleman is on the verge of beefing up Fulham's defence by signing rugged USA centre back Oguchi Onyewu from Standard Liege in a deal worth £1million. Onyewu, 24, who played in all three USA games at the World Cup, was attracting interest from Manchester City as well but is keen to link up with international team-mate Clint Dempsey, who is due to sign for Fulham this week. They will be joined by another forward, Roma's former Italy striker Vincenzo Montella.

Look, Chris... can I call you Cookie? Thanks. Cookie, you have this thing in your hands right now. It's called my heart. Now I know Fulham and I have been seeing each other for a while now, and I think we both feel there could be something special here. You've brought quite a bit to the relationship, I admit. I know it's not your fault your best assets get plucked by the prettier belles of the ball, but you always manage to find those charismatic diamonds in the rough (with perhaps a bit of the rough brought in with it for show, that's ok).

But here you go promising the moon and the goddamned stars too. Gooch and Boca on the backline? Dempsey providing service to McBride? Are you trying to make me cream my pants?! Even the mere rumor has reduced me to a gibbering idiot, concocting lineups in my head all day.

Cookie, if you're playing fast and loose with my heart, you're tempting fate. Dempsey's still got that war crimes tribunal to get through, and for all I know, this Gooch rumor is some intern at the Evening Standard yanking my chain. When the window closes, if they're both at Craven Cottage, well then, you could say our relationship might get a bit... closer. Perhaps even .... exclusive? Who knows?

All I know is that that very nice Manchester City team had Damarcus Beasley score a game-winner and get an assist in the following game. They seem very welcoming to us Yanks. And Timmy Howard's such a clutch player for Everton isn't he? Wasn't David Moyes the first to sign McBride? Heck, those literary lyricists at A Pretty Move seem to want some company in the West Ham camp, don't they? And West Ham has Jon Spector....

Well, all these clubs could certainly be warm, inviting shelter for us, Cookie. I don't think you want that, and frankly, I'm not sure I do either. But if you play fast and loose with my heart, Coleman, I might even forget you beat Chelsea last season.