Thursday, 07 January 2010

• I Think I Like Soccer

  
  (Source)
  

  Shit.

  I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't believe that I am about to publicly declare that I think the sport of soccer is something other than "gay".  I can't believe that I'm about to say that I (gulp), like it.

  Deep breath. Here goes.

  Ah soccer, the "in vogue" sport of my youth. The country, having largely ignored soccer for most of its history, seemed primed for a soccer explosion. Every kid I knew was trading in his baseball bat for a pair of short shorts and a brightly colored jersey.  Which, frankly, was a little odd.

  America, in my opinion, has long been a nation of the individuals. Our heroes are rugged take-charge men like John Wayne, Teddy Roosevelt, and George Patton. They succeed by themselves, through the strength of their own character. That is the American spirit. Anything else would be downright, well, European.

  In his hilarious book "Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs", author Chuck Klosterman argues that American sports reflect this same overriding ethos.

  Baseball, though a team game, is essentially a match of individuals, pitcher vs. batter. Football is the same way, it is either tackle or be tackled. In basketball, free throw shots are taken by yourself. Though we often hear that certain teams acheive success because "everyone does his part", and a team "really plays well together", I think that is mostly overblown. Look, the Miami Heat made the playoffs this past season. Do they even win 30 games without Dwayne Wade?

  In America sports aren't about the team, they are about herculean efforts by the individual. In soccer, that is all flipped on it's head. The focus is not on the individual players, it's on the team. The team succeeds and fails collectively, the praise and blame for wins and losses is shared among all eleven players on the team.

  So, flash forward to mid 90's suburbia. You know the place.  Well-manicured lawns, short blonde bob-cuts, and Dodge Caravans. I think the best word to use here would be "sameness". The suburbs are all about sameness. Over-involved parents want whats "best" for their kids, and they know that being active is good for their children. How do you be active in suburbia? You play sports. But what if your son and daughter isn't athletic? What if he or she totally sucks?

  Well, therein lies the problem. Parents don't like the idea of their son or daughter striking out four times in front of everybody. They don't want to see their children brick free throws or get clobbered by a middle linebacker. What do they do? Sign 'em up for soccer, where so long as they are able to run up and down the field, it looks like they are participating and succeeding.

  As Klosterman contends, soccer's "boom" wasn't really anything sustainable. The kids playing soccer didn't really like playing soccer, and they quit as soon as it was socially acceptable to do something else. All the soccer bigwigs in the country hemming and hawing about how "soccer is on the rise" and "soccer is America's next great sport" were all full of shit. For most of my life, I agreed with Klosterman. Soccer was the very definition of "overrated".

  Flash forward. Its 2010 and to the best of my knowledge, suburban kids are too busy wearing tight jeans, skateboarding, and listening to independent music to give two shits about playing soccer. Meanwhile, steroids are casting a pall over baseball, basketball is becoming more and more European, and Mark Sanchez threw 20 interceptions and is a playoff quarterback.

  It is a weird time for the traditional American sports. Individual accomplishments are becoming more and more the result of chemicals, or in Sanchez's case, fluke accidents. Coursing under this whole mess, is the fact that World Cup is fast-approaching, and the United States soccer team might actually be good.

  So, I think it's time for me to come clean. I like soccer. I think the game is exciting to watch. I think the passing and offensive schemes at times can be very, ugh, pretty. I like how it stirs up National pride, that all the Irish pubs in my neighborhood have been packed with rowdy drunkards in the middle of the day all week. I think I'm ready to believe.

  You finally made me do it soccer, you bastard. I hope you're happy, you've earned it.
  
  

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