One of the finest narratives on the game of soccer comes from British author Nick Hornby and describes his relationship to sport using the Arsenal Football Club as his chief muse. Titled Fever Pitch, the book was later adapted into a romantic comedy film of the same title with Colin Firth as the protagonist. Years later, an American re-make was made with the same title, but the sport was changed from soccer to baseball, and used the 2004 Boston Red Sox championship season as a backdrop. Both films were entertaining, but strayed too far away from Hornby’s original story and failed to capture the author’s deep passions for the sport.

Bobby Thomson died this past weekend. I expect many of you have little interest in a baseball player who retired four decades ago, but his passing does give me a chance to present a general pondering.


Thomson hit the "Shot Heard 'Round the World" in 1951, a home run that won the New York Giants the National League pennant over the Brooklyn Dodgers in a three game playoff. Even if you care nothing of baseball or baseball history, you've likely heard the famous radio call of the game by Russ Hodges ("The Giants win the pennant! The Giants win the pennant!") and seen grainy footage of the swing. The home run is an iconic moment in American sports history, the type of event that gathers up lore like a magnet with the passage of time. The title bestowed upon the home run, accurate or not (not sure the world heard anything), helps it to retain that aura of magic, giving future generations reason take interest in a singular moment from a baseball game that took place in the far-distant past.


American soccer has its own "Shot Heard 'Round the World": Paul Caligiuri's looping goal against Trinidad and Tobago back in 1989 that sent the United States to the World Cup for the first time in forty years. Again, regardless of the accuracy of the appellation, it is meant to convey the event's importance, at least for those of us on the American side.  While "Shot Heard..." works in a somewhat literal sense, it unfortunately leans on the history of that previously same-name event, at least in a sports context; the origin of the phrase itself is in the first shot fired in Revolutionary War, a much more significant event in terms of world history.


The title is more accurately applied to Caligiuri's goal than Thomson's home run, as Jamie Clary argues over at Yanks Are Coming, but that's beside the point for me; by tossing onto the goal that put the US back on the soccer map a title already used, the event is minimized by association. There was already a "Shot...", undeserving as it might have been of being called such, and doubling up just causes soccer to suffer by comparison.  Baseball's place in American history is sacrosanct; soccer comes off like the weak brother latching onto the glorious history of a "more important" sport.


For now, anyway. As soccer chugs along, I expect that goal will take on added significance from year to year; but it will never approach the legend of Thomson's home run, in part because it mattered to such a small portion of the population at the time it took place, and happened abroad in a country many Americans would struggle to locate on a map. Thomson's shot benefited from taking place in New York; in 1951, with three teams in the city, baseball the king of sports in America, and the New York the undisputed center of everything, a game-winning home run in a playoff between two hated rivals was naturally going to be the stuff of legend. Hence that hit's grip on the "Shot..." title.


My point, I suppose, is that it would just be nice if Caligiuri's goal was called something else, so it would have some resonance outside of a narrow soccer context.  






The goal in Port of Spain isn't the only major American soccer event to be subject to the "borrowing" of a name already applied elsewhere; note the retroactive application of "Miracle on Grass" to the 1950 US upset of England. Annoying and forced, the title does the massive win no justice, and only serves to establish that it is secondary to the "Miracle on Ice" of 1980. Whether it is or not is a matter of opinion, but the fact that the soccer upset trades on the well-established name of the hockey upset tilts perception from the outset.


These references don't have to be clever. American sports are filled with moments simply known as "The ____" -  "The Catch*", "The Call", "The Drive", "The Fumble" (those last two are personal favorites).  American soccer has yet to have "The Goal", and I have to wonder what it might take for a score to gain the honor.  Perhaps the winner at Azteca, if, or when, that finally happens?

Time will only tell if Donovan's goal to beat Algeria in the dying minutes, a nominal candidate for some kind of iconic name, will ultimately reach a pantheon status down the years.  I suspect it might not, if only because the run for the US at the World Cup ended so ignominiously just a game later; had the Americans matched or bettered their 2002 run and gone farther than ever before in the modern era, perhaps something may have stuck.  As it is, its a unifying moment that is more famous for the reaction it elicited than for what it ultimately brought the team.


As soccer's popularity grows, the game will have its iconic moments uniquely titled. For now, I suppose there are worse things than American soccer sharing one the name of its greatest moments  with Bobby Thomson's historic home run.


*Okay, so "The Catch" has been used more than once. But I think most people think of Clark's touchdown rather than Mays' over-the-shoulder effort, or perhaps that's generational bias.

For those who missed it, the beautiful game was played at one of our nation's most iconic stadiums last night, with Sporting and Celtic playing a friendly at Fenway Park. Above is video of Celtic's opening goal, with some nice views of the stadium and crowd as well.

The game looked pretty awesome, for lack of a more eloquent phrase, in front of the old grandstands and the Green Monster, with unique sight-lines and a near sellout crowd in attendance.  At times, the stands and proximity of the seating were reminiscent of an old English ground; that is, until a foul pole or warning track came into the picture.

The last time a soccer game was played at Fenway, LBJ was still in office (not LeBron James, for you confused youngsters out there), with Pele and Santos taking on the short-lived Boston Beacons of the NASL. And while this friendly might not have had the same star power or American presence, it was still a spectacle nonetheless, as for a couple of hours, soccer and a century of mainstream American sporting tradition co-mingled.  We certainly don't get the chance to say that everyday.

Yankees owner George Steinbrenner died today at the age of 80. To Yankees fans, the man was The Boss, the blustery owner willing to spend the cash necessary to lift the team to its rightful place at the top of baseball's pecking order. To non-Yankees fans, or more accurately Yankees-haters, he was everything wrong with the game; willing to overspend on almost any player of decent quality, Steinbrenner fully utilized the "unfair" advantage New York had over everyone else.


My conflicted biased feelings about Steinbrenner aside, the man was good for baseball, if only because he provided talking points and controversy throughout his reign as owner. He forced baseball to the front page more than any owner in the league. Admittedly, much of the good he did came in spite of his actions, which were often well short of savory; nevertheless, sports needs villains, and Steinbrenner was always a candidate for baseball's biggest villain.


It would thrill me to no end to have a Steinbrenner-type owner in Major League Soccer. Though the salary cap rules prevent any one deep-pocketed owner from going nuts with salaries in an effort to win championships, there is certainly room enough to make a splash. And no, Red Bull doesn't count despite the money they're spending; a faceless corporation can never achieve singular focus of revulsion like Big Stein did during his 37 year reign. One guy, pulling all the strings, writing all the checks, and not caring a lick what anyone else thought.


Generally speaking, MLS owners are collections of rich people. There are few teams with one person who can be pointed to as "the owner." Even clubs with identifiable front men (Chivas USA, RSL, New England, DC) have layers of separation between those names and the true operation of the team, or they are simply the heaviest hitter in a group of invested parties. There's no candidate for Steinbrenner status.


How fun would it be to have a cavalier owner desperate to win titles slinging cash all over Europe and South America (withing the confines of the rules, of course) and butting heads with the league office on salary restrictions? An owner who goes through coaches like tissues, who makes himself, rather than any of the players, the biggest story going?


Maybe soccer needs to grow up a bit here before we can hope for such a thing. I suppose I can wait. Or maybe Joey Saputo will fill the void. A lot of people would hate an MLS Steinbrenner. That's exactly the point.


Rest in peace, George. I have no idea how you felt about soccer (though the new Tampa Bay Rowdies do play at Steinbrenner Field), but I'm hoping someone out there who cares about the game, and possesses the necessary funds, wants to be the George Steinbrenner of soccer.


Oh, and thanks for knocking the MLS All-Star First XI announcement off of ESPNews.

It's not often that my news reader fills up with soccer related news that doesn't come from a soccer focused site. Generally, I hear about happenings in the soccer world through various keywords that I hope will pull anything and everything related to American soccer that is floating around the interweb.

Blogs are the largest source, though I certainly get stories through soccernet, ESPN proper, CNN and the like (especially if the name "Beckham" is involved). Today, though, the web blew up.

Every sports site in the country posted a story on Don Garber's verbal beat-down by Yankees' president Randy Levine over The Don's recent comments about the baseball club's attendance "woes".

I don't quite get what all the fuss is about. First, I think it's very possible that Levine took Garber's comments out of context. Second, Levine is clearly guilty of overreacting. Third, even if Garber meant what he said, so what? Why is Randy Levine so sensitive that he felt it necessary to respond? Especially in light of his obvious disdain for Major League Soccer?

"Don Garber discussing Yankee attendance must be a joke," Levine told the AP today. "We draw more people in a year than his entire league does in a year. If he ever gets Major League Soccer into the same time zone as the Yankees, we might take him seriously.

Come on now, Randy. If MLS isn't even in the "same time zone" as the Yankees (what does that even mean?), why bother wasting your breath? Someone once told me that "eagles don't hunt flies". If the Yankees are the eagle and Garber/MLS is the fly, then all Levine has done is lower himself.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a staunch supporter of MLS, and I'm no Yankee-lover either; but the fact remain that the New York Yankees are one of the world's biggest sports brands, and Major League Soccer is one step removed from fly-by-night.

This little shot shows just how petty Randy Levine truly is:

"Hey Don, worry about Beckham, not the Yankees. Even he wants out of your league.''

There are two ways to look at this little overblown episode. Either Levine's comments have given the soccer-hating public (and they're falling over themselves to comment on the story wherever they can) license to bash the sport (again) and the league takes another P.R. hit, or the attention MLS is getting from the mainstream media over what amounts to a misunderstanding is a good thing, something that will actually be a positive in the long run.

What do you think? Is this another hit for MLS and American soccer, or is there a silver lining to all of the attention?

or, Where's the Scoring? A Response
or, Goals Are Overrated
or, The American Double Standard
or, If You Score It, They Will (Supposedly) Come

You know that old argument that soccer doesn't appeal to Americans because there isn't enough scoring? Well, I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that it's crap; but just in case there are a few non-soccer people who might wander by here accidentally, or if you happen to need a few responses the next time a soccer-hating (or dismissing) friend of yours comments that the game is "boring", I thought I would lay out a few of my thoughts on the matter.

The impetus for this post was Fulham and Arsenal's entertaining 0-0 draw yesterday, an end-to-end match filled with chances for both sides. Despite the lack of goals, the game never failed to engage me. After checking with a few knowledgeable parties (hi Twitter friends!) just to be sure that I wasn't the only one who found it enjoyable, the thought hit me: this match is the perfect example of why the "not enough scoring" argument is less viable than one might think.

Now, as a soccer junkie, I'm admittedly biased. While the game held enormous entertainment value for me, perhaps I'm jumping to conclusions by saying that Americans are shortsighted in their position on scoring in soccer. Let's take a step back and look at the sports that Americans hold most dear: baseball and American football.

Baseball glorifies the pitcher's duel, the shutout, and the no-hitter. While home runs are seen as crowd-pleasers, tradition loves "small ball", sacrificing, and hitting behind the runner. One hundred forty plus years of history have made baseball an American institution; hence, for the Americans indoctrinated with the sport, the total scoring in a game is independent of its entertainment value, something as true today as it was during the Dead Ball Era, or the pitching dominated 60's. Even today, "Web Gems" are a celebrated part of every game, with today's modern athletes making defensive plays that amaze fans every night. Home runs, and scoring overall, has trended downward in recent years thanks to the fallout from the steroids scandals still affecting the game, yet attendances and television ratings have gone up, and revenues are higher than ever before. Runs scored matter less to fans than fantastic performances or victories by their favorite team.

Football glorifies the impenetrable defense, the tough-as-nails linebacker, and the defensive struggle. While high-octane offense is a crowd-pleaser, tradition loves ball-control, time-of-possession, and winning the field-position battle. Ninety years of history have made football the foremost American passion; hence, for Americans indoctrinated with the sport, the total scoring in a game is independent of its entertainment value, something as true today as it was during the era of the Doomsday Defense and the Steel Curtain. Even today, stingy defense is a celebrated part of the game, with a Super Bowl champion known more for defense than for scoring points. Even if scoring dropped thirty percent in a single season, football would still reign as the king of American sports; points matter less to fans than a competitive game or victories by their favorite team.

As modern sports fans, we're told so often that points make the game that we've forgotten that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Passionate football fans love a classic defensive struggle, with two teams battling it out to a 7-3 result. Baseball fans are often entranced by a pitchers duel, with two dominant hurlers shutting down the opposing team's hitters one after the other. Every sport has its stinkers, boring games with no scoring and little intriguing action, a situation that has nothing to do with scoring and everything to do with the individual teams.

Chances in soccer can often be just as exciting as actual goals. Keeper saves, missed sitters, balls that hit off the goal frame: all of these add to the entertainment value of a soccer match. It's this nuance of the game (although I almost hesitate to call such an obvious thing a nuance) to which most Americans seem oblivious; argue with them that an American football game is boring without touchdowns, and they'd likely point out big hits, sacks, fumbles, and a litany of other events that have little to do with actual scoring. The same can be said for baseball, where situational tension, rather than any actual action, adds significantly to the level of excitement.

Conclusion? The scoring argument is crap, but more specifically, Americans are simply using it as a cop-out, a way to denigrate soccer by pointing out what seems to be an obvious "flaw".

This went way longer than I intended, and the format is not what I originally planned; I may try to present a challenge-response version of these points sometime in the future. I also wanted to work in actual statistics, but that's not really my point. Needless to say, the differences in "scoring events" for the sports I'm comparing here (using only touchdowns for football) aren't as big as you might think.

It's a fairly obvious statement: MLS is desperate for a little love from the mainstream sports media. Nothing the league or its teams seem to do are enough to get on the map in the U.S., and it might just be about time for desperate measures.

To that end, I've cooked up a few ideas for how MLS can artificially get itself a little attention from all of the soccer-hating no-nothing caca-brains in this country.

1. Run an ad campaign declaring baseball "dead"

Okay, so this one might piss off a few people. Still, the juice is worth the squeeze if even a few ex-baseball fans open up their minds to soccer, or if the national media picks up the story (no matter their angle, though it's guaranteed to be negative). All is fair in love and war, and I'm of the opinion that it's time for MLS to fire up the Shermans and get all Patton-in-Sicily crazy. Of course soccer won't supplant baseball in the American sports consciousness, but any possible opportunity for publicity should be seized upon like it's the last bottle of Smithwick's at a frat party kegger. Grab that thing and enjoy it, because you know you'll be drinking Red Dog for the rest of the night.

2. Create a massive bonus for cup winners

The U.S. Open Cup stinks. In it's current format, and with fixture congestion always an issue, MLS teams have treated the competition like reserve league. Though the idea might be a non-starter in the current economy, the creation of a sizable bonus for the MLS clubs involved could jump start things; add in a salary cap exception for the dollars awarded, and now we're talking. If your team had the opportunity to increase the money available for talent by $250k or so (random number), wouldn't you want them to go all out for the trophy?

3. Give supporters' groups the bully pulpit

The future of MLS is young, male, and possibly a little tipsy. There's nothing wrong with alcohol at a sporting event; that's why you pay security (I'm half-kidding). Short of validating any violent hooligan wannabes, the league should let their best supporters' groups speak for themselves. Buy a little time on ESPN or FSC and throw Barra Brava, the Riot Squad, the Nordecke rowdies, or any of a number of others into the spotlight. There is nothing in American sports like the nuts that make up soccer supporters' groups, and their passion might just rub off on some of the unconverted.

4. Fill a stadium or two no matter what the cost

As we've recently seen in Montreal, a bit of creative marketing and some cut-rate ticket prices can go a long way towards packing in the fans. With just a little more pride-swallowing, MLS could find ways to fill large stadiums for a couple of big matches each season and create the kind of atmosphere so many American soccer fans want to see. Forget Beckham; the league should do what it takes to get 50,000 in RFK without any Golden Balls-took-his-shirt-off shenanigans. It can be done; they just need to find the way.

5. Give promotion/relegation a little lip service

It can't hurt, right? The soccer public constantly clamor for it, and while it's unlikely to be instituted in the modern sports environment with owners unwilling to risk lost revenue, there's nothing that says Garber can't drop a hint or two that the league is "discussing" the idea of promotion/relegation. Giant tease? Of course. But would it get some attention from Bristol? I'm guessing it would. A concept as foreign and unique as pro/rel in the U.S. might make the heads of Tony Kornheiser and Jim Rome explode in a glorious fountain of deep red idiotic-soccer-hater juice. And we're all for that, right?

Most of these ideas are way out there, I know. Still, it's out-of-the-box thinking that's needed when all of the conventional methods don't seem to work. With me? Or not?

Give me your ideas. The wackier the better, just try to keep them within the realm of possibility.

I've been told that everybody loves a list, so to that end, I've decided to take another stab at one.

With the 2009 MLS season less than a month away, I've put together the five reasons that 2009 will be the most important year for MLS.

1. It's the Economy Stupid

With the economy in the proverbial crapper, MLS must show that despite the squeeze, the league is in no danger going the way of the NASL. At the first sign of distress, the anti-soccer crowd will will jump to bury MLS and its efforts to establish soccer as a major American sport. With creative ticket plans, smaller rosters, and the suspension of the reserve league, the league appears keenly aware that pragmatism will need to win out, at least for the time being.

2. Beckham-bubble

Whether Signor Beckham returns from Milan or not, it appears that his influence on the profile of MLS has waned significantly. Without Golden Balls drawing attention from the mainstream media, awareness of the league among the general public will certainly backslide. If attendance and TV ratings take another hit, the aforementioned soccer-haters will have another reason to bash the sport. MLS must do everything they can to stem the tide, using what positives it can (expansion announcement, Seattle ticket sales, etc.)

3. TV Fallout

With the decision to "cancel" MLS Primetime Thursday on ESPN, it appears that MLS is teetering on the edge of television oblivion. If things continue to go poorly, future revenue for the league and the clubs is at risk. While the financial benefit of the current contract is minimal for teams, television exposure on a widely dispersed network like ESPN is essential to the growth of the league. Another poor year of ratings in 2009 will make it all the more difficult to convince ESPN that soccer deserves a desperately needed push across their various platforms (TV, radio, Internet).

4. Baseball's Problems

Conventional wisdom says that only sportswriters care about the ongoing steroid problems in baseball; although that may be true in a general sense, there will certainly be fallout from yet another black eye for MLB. MLS is in a position to capitalize on baseball's problems, as it is an alternative to baseball for the fan's entertainment dollar during the summer months. With lower prices and livelier atmospheres (for the most part), soccer has things to offer sports fans that baseball just can't provide; the onus to turn baseball's ills into a boon for soccer is now on both league office itself, as well as the individual clubs.

5. CBA on the Horizon

Despite the looming expiration of the current collective bargaining agreement, the soccer public has heard little about potential negotiations. While indications are that the players intend to be reasonable in their demands, several issues remain up in the air between the two sides. The new CBA could go far in bringing the league more respect among players, as well as help it hold onto young American talent (see Tracy, Marcus). A major salary cap increase is unlikely with the current economy and revenue position of the league, but concessions from MLS on minimums and player movement could go a long way towards improving overall league quality.


Feel free to share your thoughts, add you own issues the list, or pick apart my reasoning on any of the ones above.

My first attempt at a title was horrible; fixed it the best I could.

Stupid job getting in the way of my blog posting; man, I wish I could do this for a living (email offers to jbdavis1 (at) gmail.com). Haha. Would ya look at that? I screwed up my own email address. Oh well.

Anyway, a couple of thoughts on the news o' the day:

Donovan and Bayern

I'm sure you've heard by now that Bayern chairman Karl-Heinz Rummenigge has put a serious damper on Donovan's hope of a permanent transfer. I'm really not sure how to feel about this: on one hand, it's too bad that Donovan will have to come back to MLS. On the other, I don't know that Germany was the best place for him to be in the first place. Perhaps he's shown/will show enough that a summer move to another club could still be possible. I don't know enough to declare one league better for him than another (as some have done), so I'll just say I hope a transfer happens, no matter the country. I have a sneaking suspicion that Bayern may have inquired about a price for LD (for planning purposes if they did decide to buy him), and perhaps they were scared off by the MLS answer. We all know that Donovan is the league's poster boy, and as I've said before, $15 million doesn't seem too steep a price. With the options at striker Bayern already has, and the moves they've already lined up for the summer, buying Donovan to be a squad player/fourth striker at $15 million might not be the best situation for either party. National team fans want Landon to get consistent playing time if he's going to leave MLS, and there are certainly plenty of other clubs in top-tier leagues who could use his talents.

Where's our YouTube phenom?

A new footballing wunderkind has appeared on the scene; a 6 year-old French/Algerian boy with amazing ball skills. While I think most of these YouTube created phenoms are ridiculously overblown and overhyped, I am a little curious as to when we'll see the first American kid who benefits from the marvels of the digital age. If the Aussies can have one, why can't we?

Madin Mohammed, the French kid


Rhain Davis, the Aussie kid (if you haven't seen it before)


Steroids in baseball, and what that means for soccer

When the news broke that Alex Rodriguez tested positive for steroids, I had two completely different initial reactions: the baseball-fan/Yankee-hater in me said "THAT CHEATER! BAN HIM FOR LIFE!" (I came down from that pretty quick; I'm tired of the steroid issue, but I do think the cheaters should be punished); the soccer-fan/MLS-hype-man in me said "Yes! MLS can SO take advantage of this!". I've now come down from that second reaction as well; I don't think the steroid issue in baseball means anything at all for MLS, as the issue hasn't seem to have had any effect on baseball's appeal over the last five or six years. MLS will have to stand on its own, and deliver a strong, compelling product, if it wants to draw in fans. I can't see baseball fans switching the their televisions (or trading their tickets) from Red Sox-Yankees to Revs-Red Bulls just because one more guy has gotten caught sticking a needle in his butt.

Can I follow two sports this year?

I'm beginning to get the sneaking suspicion that my baseball fandom is in a bit of jeopardy this year; pitchers and catchers have already reported, and while I'm excited, I'm far more so for the start of MLS (and CONCACAF Champion's League before that). Just for the record, I am a GIANT baseball fan. Baseball is what I call my "first love", the sport that I played the most (and at the highest level of performance) and understand the best. I live and die with my team, and I'm one of those guys who can watch a nine-inning game from beginning to end, digest every nuance while second guessing every managerial decision, and then stay up to watch the highlights of the same game I just watched. I doubt I'll turn my back on the game (don't want to be one of THOSE guys), but with my soccer passion ramping up even more, and with the blog giving me a legitimate reason to follow every kick of the ball that I can, baseball may take a backseat this spring and summer for the first time EVER. Man, my brother is going to hate me if he reads this. Sorry Kev!

Sorry about the lack of links; I just don't the patience to track them down right now.