Last night, David Beckham arrived in Toronto to much hoop-lah, and…nothing happened.
He took to the field in a sharp suit and tie. He sat on his butt throughout 90 minutes of excruciatingly boring play. And then he left. Final score: 0-0. Ninety minutes of professional sport, and at the end of it, all you can say is, “Well, something almost happened. And it was cool to see Beckham. I mean, I think it was Beckham. We were in the top row. But it looked like Beckham. Nice suit, too.”
This is what North America was waiting for? What a bust. Even Beckham must be wondering what he’s gotten himself into. The play of his own team, LA Galaxy, was terrible. He left Europe for this?
The grass leading from the locker room to the field was yellow and dead. Over his shoulder you could see port-a-johns in the background. His team ended with a zero-zero (excuse me, nil-nil) tie (draw) against a Toronto club that hasn’t scored a goal in over 300 minutes of play. I don’t know what the word is for “brutal” in soccer-speak, but I’ll bet Beckham could tell me after watching last night’s fiasco.
To set the record straight for my soccer-minded friends and enemies, I have nothing against the game, per se. I think it is a wonderful way to boost the self-esteem of children that can’t throw a fastball or shoot a puck. It also serves the purpose of getting fat kids to lose weight. But as entertainment I should pay to watch? Not a chance.
I’ve been told many times that if I went to a soccer game, I would have a great time. I don’t dispute that. When I was in South Africa, I went to many a rugby match and had a blast. Not because of the rugby. If a bunch of guys want to run two steps forward and pass the ball one step back, I’m not going to argue. It seems a foolish way of making progress, but what do I know?
The reason I enjoyed the rugby matches was in the stands. I was plastered most of the time, and I yelled at the referee, and once in a while I’d look at the score, and then I’d grab another beer. I didn’t care who won or lost, only that beers in a South African rugby stadium sell for a $1.50 a can. At those prices, I’d go to a tiddly winks tournament.
So yes, if I went to a soccer game, I would have a great time. I have no doubt of it. I would swill beer and check out the hooters on the girl wearing the “Bend Me, Beckham” t-shirt, and I’d holler at the ref for no reason whatsoever. It would be a fine time. But don’t for one minute think that I would pay money to watch the actual game. There is, after all, no reason to watch it. If your team scores once every 300 minutes (about every three games), why bother looking at the field at all?
If last night’s soccer game is how the league is going to present the sport to North America, they are in deep trouble. Perhaps Jesus Christ could put on a pair of cleats and bring soccer to the masses, but David Beckham can’t perform that miracle on his own.
Long story short, soccer is a drag. There’s no scoring. There’s no violence. Soccer fans that complain about the constant stoppage in “American” football should look at their own game first. Every time a soccer player is on a breakaway or even looks like he has a chance of scoring, he falls down and draws a whistle at the first opportunity. The game is one long episode of “let’s go out and pass the ball, dad.”
Three quick suggestions for Major League Soccer. One, put a blue line on the field, as in hockey. The offside rule as it stands now is confusing to novices (the very people you’re trying to attract), and it’s an invitation to tedium. With a soccer blue line, you’ll get more breakaways and more scoring. Once the ball is inside the thirty yard line, offside should go out the window. As with hockey, the players will be in a scoring zone. Let them try to do just that. More shots, more scoring, more excitement. People aren’t paying money to watch the defence put a guy offside by walking forward five feet. They want to see the strikers work their magic. Give them the time and space to say presto.
Two, dispense with the defensive no-rough-stuff philosophy. Sometime in the past, soccer became a sport for wimps. Nowhere in the rules does it say you can’t tackle a man in earnest. So allow hard play. If a guy falls down and rolls around on the ground, let him lie there or throw him out of the game. Bring the physicality back to soccer, and you will draw more fans.
Three, bring in the shoot-out at the end of a tie. Yeah, yeah, I know the soccer types hate the shoot-out, but welcome to the land of winners and losers. None of North America’s sports allows a tie. (Football does after an extra quarter of play, but it happens so rarely, nobody cares. It’s one of those aberrations that makes playoff math interesting from time to time). You can call North Americans unsportsmanlike swine for wanting a winner after every game, but that’s the way it is. We love winners and scorn losers. Give them to us.
I don’t want to hear from any purists that any of the above suggestions would ruin the game, or that it’s not “real soccer.”
So what? This isn’t really soccer country, either. The idea that people somehow have to adapt to a product you’re selling is preposterous. It’s the other way around. Learn it the hard way or the easy way, it’s all the same to me.
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