quick, before the folks get home

Well, here's some half-baked MLS ruminations, for no other reason other than I don't enjoy leaving this neglected for more than a weeks time, and that other League kicks off on Saturday, which will send America's wittle weague to the back of the bus. (Plus too the fact that I don't have a Twitter.)

-- In both tactical and league terms, Tom Soehn is a lobotomized Don Nelson. His three-man backline waxes abstract 'round red-white-and-blue parts, which is all gravy, so long as your keeper isn't a horse-rabbit prone to Horbbit-in-headlights quandary a select few crippling points per game. Which sadly, it appears -- despite all his valiant attempts otherwise -- Josh Wicks turns out to be.

-- As such, only two sides east of the Mizzou are of any temerity to break free of the peloton, worthy of the much-ballyhooed title of "contenders". As for the parity the league so proudly champions, seems a bit drab that it's the same yoke from last year, though Columbus hasn't ceased much in being compelling (more so than the "race" to grab the final two East spots will be).

-- Preki, when you look at your guys' numbers, what is it that you see? It's fine, I'll wait....a complete dearth of goals, that's what you should see, damnit. You're telling me there's not some out-of-work poacher on either side of the pond that couldn't be talked into an exciting new adventure in Los Angeles (please, use that sell, it's yours)? Trust, I loathe DP rumors as much as the next respectable chap, but if ever a spot were calling for one; I mean, the team hasn't sniffed three points in two months. Does anyone know why Alecko and Atiba were let go amidst this? Even John Chaney recruited players that could at least sporadically make the ball meet twine, even if they would turn out to be Eddie Jones.

-- If there's a more interesting-looking team in the league than Houston, well, color me ignorant to 'em, because the Dynamo are subtly a sight -- especially the sideburn dynamics, where their wide midfielders seem to be mocking Pat Onstad's complete and utter lack thereof. The same Pat Onstad garnering "Jamie Moyer of MLS" fame. Captivating shit, to be sure.

-- Did Beckham approve his pigeonholing in that "Every Team Needs..." ad, as a specialist perched next to Sacha Klejstan's virtuoso?

-- Speaking of the Galaxy, well, they've become not unlike the finest pieces of the Altman armory, a crocheted cast of percussive character studies left to their devices to push proceedings forward on a wing and a prayer. Why dare try and dissect before the denouement; certainly not before any on-field tribulation sets in.

-- Jeff Cunningham is probably roiding.

-- Hopefully all those friendlies don't leave too much tread on the Sounders come crucial times. I mean, secretly, is there anyone rooting against the Sounders winning MLS Cup in their own dojo? Too principal a point to be exhausted, the Seattle sporting coterie would undoubtedly deserve it.

paulo nagamura, née nagasaki

This, at least in terms of the Galaxy, must be their Potsdam Declaration. The comparison is high-flown and a tad cliché, but I wonder if the next two weeks before Beckham Airlines touches down, for what'll probably be his last hurrah out Californee way (to play, mind you), there won't be just the slightest hint of equal parts dread and malaise sifting through LA's ashy streets, not unlike the assumed in Japan in early August, nineteen forty-and-five. If only because it'd be impossible not to catch some remnants of the contagion coming from the Home Depot Center and the Galaxy operation. Transitively, I probably shouldn't attend any Chivas games for a while, huh?

Should've seen this coming, too, now that I think about it. I didn't understand this celebration at the time, but now I think I at least marginally do; Landon is barking at - amongst countless, but perhaps most importantly - Becks, in terms he knows Daay-vid can understand, and almost with an upturned, I'm-Ron-Burgundy? inquisitive tone. As though he wasn't sure if he should say it but remembered that the book's coming out anyway, so fuck it, I am lion, and I am rarely lion, so hear my ass hereby roar. And so he with both hands pointed to the 10 on his chest and was brief: "Me? Me?!! ME!" - and you know what? He's right - if there's one thing everyone can agree on after the Confederations Cup (and it could well be the only thing), it's that Landon is indeed Wayne-and-Garth worthy - or, in his eloquent own terms, "Him? Him?! HIM!!".



I'm not feigning any predictions, because I honestly and simply don't know what's going to happen. I think "Kobe during the 2nd half of Game 7, first round against the Suns, 2006" would be my best guess, but that night is close to if not is the bane of my LA-based sporting existence; why the hell would I root for that to happen anywhere else, especially in such close proximity? Its only gonna hurt soccer's rep stateside more, too, that boulevard; it's just not worth it to be cynical here. I can safely predict there won't be a mushroom cloud over the HDC on the 16th, and I don't think anything catastrophic has the chance to happen, short of the chorus of elitist, inebrieated Beckham catcallers, who'll never be louder...but I mean, the US National Team did just end the longest unbeaten streak in the sport's antiquity. Stranger things did and can happen. But until then and for right now, I'll choose imagining Becks on the jet to LAX squinting out the window at the sea, thinking it profound and not knowing why, and humming a certain Wyclef tune to himself, slyly replacing the "till" in the song's title to "in". You dig?

the mouse who shan't be modest

I won't say how many years I'd been provided or what substance I had been nepotistically coaxed into downing, but I can say that I sat intently through the whole happenstance, hoping it to reveal itself to be unfathomably true, too many damn parallels to refute. And yeah, Dorothy putting her hand to the Tin Man's chest whilst a heartbeat closes out Dark Side is a skosh bizarre, but I can point to another time years later where the apophenia was waaay more NO FUCKIN' WAY, DUDE and didn't involve going through the same album's motions thrice.

Heed the scene: twenty, maybe twenty-five heads in one deceptively-rustic living room/den, in a house where no lie, not-a-one of the damn pictures on the wall was level - like the '94 quake hit and my buddy and his folks just said, "...fuck it, crooked's the new straight!" - everyone zoned out on Guru's rhymes from Moment Of Truth eerily syncing up with a discussion between Spongebob and Squidward (not my choice), of which I like to imagine Guru and Premier really did painstakingly work their shit out to a yet-to-be-ruminated episode of a still-being-ruminated cartoon reprised said random night so many years later.



Now, I've watched the Sounders multiple times this year, their game today included (love me that there intranet and its streemin'!), and, thanks to Max Bretos, they're often ingested on mute, an open invite for musical supplementation and thus synchronicity conspiracies abound. Call it OCD, or just my retaining anally, but as they're from Seattle, for me it only makes sense that the strains best dovetailing their play come from there, too. A first year club, competing with the M's and the 'Hawks for local recognition, an underground success despite their genre-bending instrumentation, not cosmopolitan nor even realized quite yet but sowin' them seeds that have themselves a growin' disposition? I'm not apologizing for these forays into hickoried diction, cause if you've heard the rather pertinently titled The Lonesome Crowded West, (think Vancouver & Portland) and then heard it again with the Sounders imbricating, you'd understand why it's not really under my power to curb it. Cue the phenomena:




Freddie Ljungberg

...here's the man with teeth like God's shoeshine
he sparkles, shimmers, shines

Kasey Keller

doin' the cockroach, yeah!
doin' the cockroach, yeah!
oh yeeeeeeeah
...one year, twenty years, forty years, fifty years!
doin' the cockroach, yeah!

Fredy Montero

I'm drowning upside down, my feet afloat like Christ's
...he moves just like Crisco disco

Sébastien Le Toux

...and I am doing the best that I can
all the eunuchs, they were standing in rows, singing
"please stud us out just as fast as you can"

Sigi Schmid

Well, Cowboy Dan's a major player in the cowboy scene
he goes to the reservation, drinks and gets mean...
...and he hops in his pickup, puts the pedal to the floor, and says
"I got mine, but I want more"

Osvaldo Alonso

...I sold my atlas by the freight stairs, I do lines and I crossed roads
I crossed the lines of all the great state roads

Nate Jaqua

on my way to I don't know...
...in this place that I call home
my brain's the cliff, my heart's the bitter buffalo

Drew Carey

...the apostles, they're sitting in swings, saying
"I'd sell off my savior for a set of new rings
and some sandals with the style of straps that cling best to the era"

idly wild or wildly idle?

While it's indeed absolutely righteous that the ol' Stars n' Stripes managed to pin whatever demons they had been wrestling against the Egyptians (and thanks, Brazil!) and offered themselves the opportunity to toreador against the running of the silky and insurmountable Spanish bulls, the fact remains that the country's domestic league has been rendered a forgotten soldier, blanched and drowned out by the androgynous moan of the vuvuzela. There's only five MLS players in South Africa right now, so there's really no excuse; if teams aren't at full strength (save Chivas, maybe the Galaxy), it's due to injury or lack of form or everything but the C-Fed Cup.

The league has reached puberty, dominated by the bush and anxious as a motherfucker, so there's plenty of goings-on in the ever-crucial adolescent identity department to hold one's amusement. Besides the actual league itself, clubs are well underway in constructing a foundation; not tactically, but eugenically, philosophically, and its making the league a rather fine summer accompaniment (or substitute) for baseball (which I can't even take seriously or watch subjectively anymore). It's not even as though there's a litany of good teams across the league, because there's really only a couple that have performed themselves deserving of that mundane title. The road to success in MLS is still paved through defense and apropos - as nearly every league in the world save the top 3 or 4 is, mind you - with only the occasional fit of brilliance waxing decisive, and so it's fitting hale ol' Houston sit atop the table with Preki's Chivas nipping at their heels. Both are perennially good and if not for a plague of injury arguably would have contended for that West crown New York so dubiously claimed last year. The Dynamo have always left an odd taste in my mouth because of the locale switch, though, especially now that there's another Earthquakes, so they aren't near endearing to me as Chivas. Probably helps that I live in LA, have attended multiple games this season, and have started to refer to the side as "we"; but come on, I'm not about deny myself local footballing subjection, and who'd support the fucking Galaxy if given a choice not to?


My Goats bias aside, there's other teams worthy of this upper-tier discussion. Columbus is obviously quality, as they have the near-exact same side as last year's champions, and are even more obviously just working out the kinks of a new regime. Blanco and McBride will always keep Chicago an interesting side, and DC are the league's diligent metronome (who lost the beat slightly last year), displayed from the outset when they were the only team to not attach a hokey American team name to the end of their city. And then there's the Sounders - the savior, the enlightened triumphant. They warrant another post themselves entirely for what they've accomplished. Expansion be damned, they went out and procured players that would amass positive results, and promptly. Kasey Keller and his Olympia birth were a geographical gift, but beyond that it's been straight and utter intuition. I remember seeing the expansion draft's results and being rather impressed with their haul, they've gotten further outstanding returns from their Latin American excursions (Montero, Hurtado, Alonso), and Freddie has provided the designated player rule the name, face, and play it needed to survive beyond its last provisional year before assessment (lots of understated help from Schelotto, too). Sigi might be a mercenary, but if you had a gun to your temple and but one hour to form an MLS XI, you'd get him on the phone before anyone else, right?

The not-so-good teams, the lower bourgoisie scratching and surviving to keep pace and find distinction amongst the rank and file? They're only gonna further damage the facade shielding my true ignorance about the MLS, if I haven't enough already. Colorado, Toronto, Salt Lake, Kansas City; how slippery my grasp of all ye be! Is Colorado still Arsenal USA? Can they just run with that, take Manny Eboue on loan or something? Salt Lake has Kyle Beckerman, which has potential if and only if they answer Kyle's prayers and surround him with solely Jamacians and let him and the Reggae Boyz romp about Utah and raise the Mormons up out of their burrows. The only team amidst the medial muck with some sort of defined complexion is New England, which in turn is quite nice to revel in because Taylor Twellman's smug-ass industry makes my god damn blood boil. But in watching these mediocre teams the little I have, you get the sense they're getting the sense, that they'll catch up with their shadow and achieve parity with the elite, which even if it never happens is compelling enough in itself.


The four shite teams are even fascinating in their shiteness. The Galaxy are everything they're cracked up to be: a trainwreck joke, a tragicomedy at its apex, the sand in Los Angeles' panties after a trip to the beach. It delights me everyday, the thought of Beckham coming back to this. LA, for what it's worth, has developed thanks to Donovan Ricketts this bewildering affinity for draws, nine from their fourteen played; i.e. sitting on the fence, the ultimate denial of a solution, pretty much encapsulating their current mindset to a tee. Dallas if nothing else are the resident "star player putting up numbers on a bad team" team, which would reflect lowly on Kenny Cooper if soccer were basketball and scoring were inevitable. But even the doldrums have kindly rounded the league out and attributed to giving this season a story, a fortified plot to flush out and follow stronger than any other of the league's first baker's dozen. Might get a little turbulent during Superliga and then the Champions League and Open Cup, but nothing severe or life-altering, and not knowing what's to follow is the reason we watch anyway, isn't it? Supporting soccer in America should never just be about the national team; it's bifurcated with MLS, simple as that.

a chronicling, draped in flannel

One of, if not the only, positive parallel between the MLS and the American sporting climate? Expansion, kids. And so, a diary of the Sounders inaugural game.


6:19 pm, pacific time. God, that guy had great hair. Just don’t see spikes that committedly big at other sporting events. Sounders 1, OKC Thunder 0.

6:30 Wonder the last time Qwest had that much energy pumping through it. Probably wasn’t for a Seahawks game. Kickoff.

6:36 Exactly as you’d expect from an expansion team’s first time out; lots and lots of midfield dispossession. The green & blue looks sharp in HD, though.

6:41 I bet Sounders left back Zack Scott is seething about missing his Zags play tonight in the NCAA tourney. Good thing he won’t have anything to do besides chase Dane RicharOOOOOOH SHIT A GOAL! EL CABALLITO DE COLOMBIA FREDY MONTERO!!!!!! GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL!!!!!!!!!! LOS SOUNDERS 1, LOS TOROS ROJOS 0!

6:44 That was absolutely the best thing that could’ve happened for this game. Were they interpreting a caffeinated Latin-American centipede for their celebration, though? Probably gonna wanna work out those triumphal kinks next practice, guys, before the goals dry up.

6:51 Is his name really Jhon Kennedy Hurtado?

6:55 Brad Evans takes Cepero five-hole, Sounders 2, city of Seattle 1,000, Red Bulls 0, OKC Thunder -3. Weren’t New York the Western Conference Champs last season? Good one all around, playoff system.

6:58 Just because you’re 40 doesn’t mean you get to wear tight yoga pants, Kasey.

7:03 Requisite “Jhon Kennedy used his hands” joke here.

7:07 It’s really a shame no one on the Sounders looks like he’s in a grunge band. Just seems like such an easy get; hopefully Sigi takes a trip to Argentina sometime in the near future. (edit: 'twas later mentioned that the team in fact took a trip down there; remains to be seen why the roster wasn't adjusted during the proceedings.)

7:11 I’d take exception to the Pacific Northwest receiving three football clubs in three years, but I didn’t have my basketball team raped and pillaged out from under me. (Portland has the Blazers, but remember too that Vancouver lost the Grizzlies. Evens out in some way, I think.)

7:15 Alliance For Progress be damned, Jhon Kennedy is manhandling a Colombian in Seattle tonight. Juan Pablo, ¿dónde estás?

7:17 Halftime. One wonders if NY is this bad, or if Seattle’s adrenaline is simply that pronounced. I’m not, but one might.

7:30 I can’t put into words how much I hate that Messi chests the game down in that PES commercial.

7:34 Second half. The field has stripper glitter all over it.

7:39 Good number crunching, ESPN. 12 touches, 9 moving away from goal for Ángel. My sister’s fiancé Rigo is also a dead ringer for a lovechild between JPA and Shakira. ¡Viva Colombia y sus cejas!

7:45 I’ve thoroughly convinced myself the Red Bulls jerseys have a goofy little innocuous zipper like a Patagonia sweater where that patch of red is on their collar.

7:48 JP Dellacamera asks the question I’ve been wondering since the second goal; where exactly does Freddie play if this form stays true?

7:52 Adam Scott torpedoes through JPA’s ankles like he talked shit on John Stockton’s shorts. Somebody let him know the Zags advanced tonight, stat.

7:56 Can I be the first to make the Lebron-Zakuani comparison? If for no other reason than both are first-picks out of Akron (even if Steve’s actually from the Congo)—that’s enough to start, right? No?

8:00 Keller is finally afforded a chance to test the elasticity of his comfort pants.

8:04 Montero loots Mike Petke of his dignity, gets his brace, gives me my adjourning cue. Sounders 3, NYRB 0, city of Seattle 7,640, Clay Bennett - ∞, justice 1. Hope it helped a little, Seattle; lord knows you deserved the hell out of it.