Why the USA Really Won

Yesterday the USA was eliminated from the World Cup Soccer. Like many Americans, I was glued to the screen. I also suddenly cared about soccer out of the blue. Yes, I will admit most of the time I don't follow it. But the World Cup made me a fan. Suddenly soccer became my crack cocaine. Part of it was I like sports anyway, and would have watched regardless. Plus it was easy, because one of my jobs is I rant about sports for the Ranter app on iphone and Android. The most fascinating part was watching how soccer was played around the world, and how each country had different strategies.

Ghana played rough, and racked up a shit ton of penalties. However, they played with heart and determination that a lot of their pretty boy Euro soccer counterparts did not. Portugal had superb ball handling skills. Amazing, and they worked as a cohesive team with their offense, but their defense was kind of strong but not really. Germany was amazing defensively. So much so that their midfield and offense lacked. However, they resembled more of an army than a soccer team, filling in the gaps, refusing to retreat, and ultimately guarding their goalie. Algeria, like Germany, had a super strong defense. They were also great athletes all around, and had a strength everyone under estimated. And of course Belgium bored me and found me wishing for a team like Ghana, a team with character. But I will say, Orighi impressed me with his speed and ball handling skills. I walked away from those games not only wanting more, but respecting the game as a whole.

Soccer isn't big in America. Yeah, every high school and college has a team. It's not nearly as  big as football though. Good soccer players get respect, but not like football, basketball, and baseball players do. And as we all saw from the World Cup these guys are not softies. Clint Dempsey basically could not walk, he had a black eye, broken nose, and was still on the field playing. Thomas Muller had a black eye, I believe a leg injury, and a cut so deep it required six stitches and was still scoring most if not all the goals for Germany. DeMarcus Beasley had a chronic hamstring injury, but wasn't letting that stop him. And then one Algerian guy had a piece of gauze on his head the size of a sand dollar, probably because he had some cranial injury and his brain may or may not have been leaking. (The British commentators said this, not me). And he was out there fighting his heart out.

Football, basketball, and baseball players don't always have those guts or determination. While football is a brutal game, it is played with pads and gear. Basketball never gets this bloody, if it did the NBA would strike. With those injuries they could never pay child support. As for baseball, please they guys are babies and in my opinion the most borderline of the pro sports.

I remember in my hometown the boy's soccer team won the state championship one year. We were proud of them, and they were a gifted squad. However, no one focused on their accomplishments. The attention went to the football team, and the lackluster season they had. Rather than focus on the silver lining, everyone focused on the darkness our sucktacular football team brought. It was as if the accomplishments of the soccer team ceased to exist. Even in school, the football team were always considered the popular guys who got all the babes.

Soccer on the other hand, well, they got no women. Instead, they lived in near obscurity. Any win they had went largely ignored. To raise money for their team, their parents worked concession at the football games. Additionally, because football raised money for the weight room, they were forced to swallow this pill with a smile. These parents had to grin and bear it, knowing that while their sons were heroes in the fall, they weren't front and center although they were as strong and tough as the young men playing under the Friday night lights. Their sons were tall and lanky or short and spindly, not Alpha Males built like blocks. But this is America. Soccer is not big. I say this not only because this is true, but also because there was clear resentment on the end of the soccer parents.

Nonetheless, the football team was giving. Their presence and winning streak not only paid for the weight room, but they let the other lesser saluted sporting teams use it. They greeted their jock cohorts like brothers and sisters, not the vicious landlords as Hollywood portrays. Still, it must have been a bitch to be a shrub in this sporting musical.

My brother Wendell, my sister Skipper, and I played soccer. Wendell played until eighth grade, when he got too big and stocky and switched to football. He translated his skills as a soccer player into football quite well. Unlike many of his teammates, he had speed and was able to take punishment as well as give it. And while practices in the heat are not easy for any big guy, Wendell got through it more gracefully than many of this teammates. Skipper played soccer until she injured her ACL. However, like many soccer players, she learned pain management and somehow ran cross country while lacking a vital ligament in her leg for years. They were able to so these things because of soccer toughness. I on the other hand just sucked and knew when to get the fuck off the field.

The USA was once the laughing stock. However, we got quite far in this cup. Americans showed respect for this often overshadowed, over looked sport. These gifted athletes shined. They had their day. And we also began to understand that there were sports outside of football, baseball, and basketball that needed our attention. Truth be told, not every young man is going to shine on the grid iron, ball court, or diamond. Some might shine on the big green. And that's okay, because we need people there too. Fun fact, all the Euro players are dating or married to models. So sometimes on the big green, you can do quite well for yourself, too

So when summer comes to an end, and fall approaches, I will see the kids heading to soccer practice.  Some will be tall and thin like reeds, tripping over their own two feet as their body waits to catch up to itself. Others will be tiny, carrying water jugs that are as big and weigh as much as they do. Their parents will strap on the shin guards, and make sure the mouth protectors are fit to size. And then when their kid takes the field, they will cheer and hope that they don't get injured.

Instead of writing them off, my heart will warm a little. They are working and fighting hard. Finally in America, we realize these young men have a place and purpose, too. Like many a pee wee football player is a potential NFLer, they are planting the same seeds in little league soccer.

Perhaps one of these young men will be our next World Cup Superstar.



Come to my book signing
Thursday July 3
7:30
Don't Tell Mama
343 W. 46 st
12 dollars gets you in, and gets you a copy of the book
If you bring your book, get in for free.

World Cup

These people are the ones who spilled the secret.......

 Steve Rogers is Clint Dempsey. Read the rest of the blog and I will explain....

As many of you know, I follow World Cup Soccer because of my gig with Ranter. I have been covering the US Team extensively. To me, the US Team has two stars.

One star is Clint Dempsey. So far the man has a broken nose. Additionally, he has acquired not one but two black eyes. Not to mention he can't walk, but somehow manages to jump. However, Clint Dempsey is a beast. He still somehow manages to play soccer. Clint Dempsey doesn't complain. He doesn't bellyache and pretend to be injured. It's because Clint Dempsey is in fact Captain America.

No, he is not cryogenically frozen. He is fo realz

The other is DaMarcus Beasley. He has a name that should belong to an American NFL player instead of a Euro style footballer. Nonetheless, Mr. Beasley rocks them all. . Like Clint Dempsey, he will never die. Say, didn't Captain America have a black side kick?

We are doing this. Yes we are!

Our first opponent was Ghana. I had mixed feelings about Ghana. They played a hard game, which I appreciated. We need tough opponents with real issues like how to feed their families on our sometimes over-indulged American doughboys. We need opponents who might get shot by their governments if they lose. So I could appreciate them that way. However, a lot of the tripping and spitting and other elbowing served no purpose. Some dudes were elbowing other dudes just to elbow them, and the ball was no where in site. One dud tripped another for no reason whatsoever! They broke Clint Dempsey's nose, and he might have had a tampon coming out of there but they could not defeat his spirit, and they could not defeat us because he is Captain America.

A celebration after a mob attack and elbow on the field

Our second opponent was Portugal. Overall, I didn't like the Portugese Team. I thought they were a bunch of pretty boys. Or they were over tattooed morons who believed they were playing professional basketball instead of soccer with all those moron tattoos. My least favorite was Christian "The Rapist" Ronaldo. Aside from clubbing women over the head and taking them back to his cave for a night of forced intercourse, he is just a tool with his little lightning zig zag bolts in his head. I was praying he got injured. Anyway, what I liked about the Portugese team was their ball handling skills were SUPERB! They knew how to get that ball, keep that ball, and pass it to their friends who could handle the ball in a like fashion. America could have used a little work in this regard. Their defense, while nothing to write home about, was better than ours. Michael Bradley kept losing the ball like an old woman loses her dentures, all the time. Not to mention Tim Howard was at McDonalds not keeping his eye on goal for the first and last minutes of the game. We should have won not tied. That is the only way the native peoples of Brazil would seek revenge against these bloody tyrants who made them speak their language and adopt their culture. But either way, I was not happy about that tie.

This woman may  or may not have consented. But then again, when Ronaldo's around, who needs to sweat those details?

"We will, we will rape you. Maybe not them, but I will baby. Cause I am the man no one says no to." Christian Ronaldo, direct quote and true fact

Our third opponent was Germany. I knew they were going to be tough. Germany has always been tough. They almost took over the world twice. Even in the days of the Holy Roman Empire, they did not retreat and even sent their women to fight. They scared the shit out of the Roman Legions. Anyway, back to soccer. I knew they were going to be a worthy opponent. And they were. Right away, these Rhinelanders scored a goal. Additionally, while their ball handling skills were not as good as that of the Portugese, they were excellent still. The strength Germany had was the ability to fill in those gaps, those holes. Yes I am talking defense. Additionally, they didn't just guard their goalie, they fortified the man. There was a reason America didn't score. No one would have scored. There was a wall in front of the goalie like an old time war fort, and no one was breaking through. And Germany had to be respected for toughness. Thomas Muller was their strongman, barely being able to walk and playing with six stitches. So what his brains might be leaking out of his head? There was a soccer game to be won. And they won 1-0.

They were not far away from the goal they were guarding when this photo was taken

Or maybe Steve Rogers is really Thomas Muller. I am very confused right now. Where is a sexless comic book nerd when I need one?

What will happen against Belgium? Let's just wait and see.

Want to join me and follow the cup? Download Ranter on your iphone or Android xoxoxo

And come to my special event July 3 @ 7:30 PM Don't Tell Mama 343 W. 46 st (Not soccer related, relax). 

Party in the USA (Miley Cyrus)

Last night I watched the World Cup at Mickey Spillane's. It is one of the many neighborhood bars owned by my friend Richie. If you live in Hell's Kitchen you know him. He is tall, thin, and has a Bruce Springsteen bandana on his head. Richie can be seen at one of his three bars or riding his motorcycle. I can say I like the dude, and his establishments are well run.

The reason I went is because of my Ranter gig. While my love of football is what scored me the job, I have been learning a lot about other sports. While I follow many others on a surface level, I have been getting into them like never before. This week I have been getting into the World Cup. I played soccer briefly as a kid, but was never very good. My sister Skipper on the other hand was amazing, that is, before she tore her ACL and that ended those dreams. She still continued to run cross country for years though. Wendell played until he was thirteen, but because he was built more like a tank rather than a spindly soccer dude, he would unintentionally get rough. So when he was in eighth grade he switched to football which turned out to be a better fit.

I got to Mickey Spillane's and ordered a ginger ale. It was the USA v. Ghana. When I saw the Ghanans and their faux-hawks I knew this was going to be a good game. The USA scored a goal within the first few minutes. However, the Ghanans were not going down without a fight. One dude was taken out in a stretcher within the first few minutes after the goal. Then the dude that scored the goal was hit in the face by a dirty, low road taking member of Team Ghana. At first he was the hero scoring the goal for the USA, and then became a zero as a tampon hung out his nose. Nonetheless, he still continued to play. Ghana still continued to play dirty though. One dude was kicking the ball, and another dude from Ghana tripped him!!!! I was like WTF! Was that really necessary, Sir? Then one member of Team USA nearly pulled both hamstrings at the same time. Now that was just painful to watch.....Ouchland.

At the same time, the USA kept getting close to scoring more goals, but they kept missing the net. They kept missing the net, and Ghana kept playing like a bunch of street brawlers. I wanted to explain to them that I was well aware they were third world, but it didn't mean they had to act like it. The Brits at the bar, hardcore soccer fans, explained the African nations as well as South Americans were typically rough. Why that is, I don't know. But if I were a ref I would be carding them everywhere.

When Ghana scored and tied the game, I felt my heart sink. The whole place did. America needed to get it together and fast. However, this also meant the stakes were raised. Now we were all glued to the screen intently. The bar had a diverse mix of patrons. Some were tourists. Others were suits. Some were local yokels like myself. There were whites, blacks, Latinos, Asians and any mix of foreigners. We were all in suspense, what would happen next.

Just then the USA scored a second goal. It was within the last few minutes of the game. Together we all cheered. In unison, a chorus of strangers, we chanted, "USA, USA, USA!!!"

It didn't matter that many of us didn't know each other or might never see each other again. Our team was playing for the World Cup and won one of the qualifying games. It not only gave us a fun evening, but made us feel good as a whole, as people of this great sovereign nation. This was amazing, and I left the bar skipping down the street. Despite the fact my dance card is full at times, it made me blessed to have a job in sports broadcasting and happy to live in the best city and best country ever.

So you need to download Ranter on both Android and iphone where it is available

And I need to do my homework for my Continuing Ed class tonight.

"USA! USA! USA!"