Yeah . . . ummmm . . . so, like, not too many injuries, huh? Well, baring a certain hairy ankle that just won't heal. Seriously, not much is going right for the Black-and-Red at the moment, but I think that it's a little too early to start making folks (Soehn, Peralta, Emilio, Wells) walk the plank. Remember how United and Houston started 2007 after everybody had them picked as the class of the league? Remember how United finished top of the league and Houston picked up the MLS Cup? History does have that strange way of repeating itself . . . United is looking to fill the final roster spot with ex-Red Bull speedster Francis Doe. Fine, that gives us a new dimension in attack--one that could potentially pay huge dividends given Gallardo's penchant for the searching ball, but we're still absent a trickster winger and looking shaky at the back . . . Panic button? Not yet pressed, but the hand is hovering, oh-so anxiously hovering . . .
Where to begin? Well, I pretty much addressed most of the bad in the reaction to Thursday's loss to the Crew . . . I'm also trying to decide what reaction to have to Wells' comments after the loss (as heard on the excellent Screaming Eagles Podcast, created by this guy). He said something to the effect that the league is a forgiving one, and you can have some patches of poor results--the only thing that matters is how you finish the season. Which is totally true. For better or worse, the MLS Cup winner is the league champion, not the team that accumulates the most points--a lesson that Wells will have been all too familiar with given his previous couple of seasons with the masters of said tactic--the Dynamo.
There's just something a bit too pragmatic and a bit lacking in pride and passion that irks me about that kind of attitude though. This is where we really miss Ben Olsen, who would be out there throwing himself into every tackle--kicking, biting, scratching, and bleeding for the team. The only ones who are really making that sort of effort are Simms, Namoff in patches, and, surprisingly, the reborn Santino Quaranta. It's almost like the rest of the team has taken "Behind the Badge" to heart, and are hiding behind the shield, rather than holding it aloft with pride as they charge into battle. We need to ditch the "we're talented, the results will come" attitude, put our heads down, and start earning those results . . .
Wow, things are really all over the place, aren't they? RSL lights up United one week, then falls over when confronted by TFC. The Rapids bounce the Revs in the Big Razor only to be spanked by the expansion Quakes at the Dick. Parity sure is fun . . .
I had a bit of a go at Captain Kissypants in this week's Dogpile, but I'm still irked by the Fivehead's behavior and MLS's unwillingness to come down on him for acting like a spoiled brat. Face of the league? Please pick somebody a bit less childish and miles more professional. Passion is one thing--pissants are quite another . . .
Friedel was a monster against the once and future champions, keeping the Red Devils' hands off of the trophy for just a little while longer. With all due respect to Timmy Howard, Friedel is still the best Yank keeper . . .
Oh Jesus, I've got that sinking feeling. Wednesday still have a couple of weeks to excuse themselves from the fire, and they've got a decent goal difference if it comes down to that, but AARRRGGHH!!!! We've been here before, haven't we? . . . In related news, Fulhamerica really needed any sort of result this weekend to keep their hopes alive, but failed miserably. The Cottagers are on life support and fading fast. Get ready for Americans in the Championship! Here's hoping Wednesday survive so that Simek will be around to face them next year . . . Sweet Jebus, those UEFA Champions' League semifinals sure were a steaming pile! Poor John Arne Riise? No! Poor, luckless fan of attractive, attacking soccer. The best players in the best stadiums under the spotlight of intense cup competition and we get that televised abortion? Oh to have futbol snatched from the jaws of a joyless, win-win-win, market capitalist, global corporate kleptocracy! Sombody save my game, I beg of thee . . .