So let's set the scene.
I'm out yesterday at sundown in the nastiness that passes for weather these days, being pelted with freezing rain and catching up on my podcasts while shoveling the snow and ice from a driveway that's disturbingly reminiscent of Hoth. Now, I'm at least a decade removed from my High Fidelity music-nerd days and comfortably settled into the smug superiority of knowing what I like and no longer attending to "that crap the kids are listening to these days", but I do keep an ear open to NPR's All Songs Considered to see if anything catches my fancy.
So I'm listening to the new concert podcast, sampling the wares of Nickel Creek. After the second or third song of the set, the band is engaging in some banter and vamping on the DC sports scene (the concert was at the 9:30 Club in DC). After glossing over the Nationals and Redskins, the conversation begins to shift to a diatribe on the smugness of Tom Brady, when what to my wondering ears should appear, but a brave and solitary United fanatico treating us to a single "D-C U-ni-ted" chant. I can only imagine said individual with arms raised and face lit with the beatific glow that only adorns the faces of mystics, the insane, about-to-be-martyred saints, and the righteous American soccer fan.
I know that the reach of my blog is neither deep nor broad, so I have no way of being sure that this message will reach this brave, devoted soul; but I'd just like to keep my karmic balance sheet in order by saying thanks. Thank you, Mystery United Fan. Thank you for sharing your passion. Thank you for justifying what it is that I love not just about United fans, but MLS fans in general. And thank you most of all for warming my frozen fullback ass as I considered finding a tauntaun to cut open and crawl inside on the frozen tundra that is my front lawn.
Cheers!
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