Alright, rather than focus on the yawning vortex of suck that is our recent run of non-results, concluding with last night's 2-0 capitulation, let's see if there's anything at all to look forward to for the remainder of the season.
(1) We're in a hole in the Champions' League, but it's not huge. Marathon are on top with 6, the other two have 3, and we're rock bottom with the big zero. Of course, our goal difference sucks as well. So, are we ready to give up this particular ghost yet? Is MLS Cup a bigger deal than the Champions' League? Maybe if we'd won the Cup sometime in the past two years, rather than the Supporters' Shield, then I'd say we have a go at international success. But that's just not the case. The other issue is injuries. Will we have enough spare parts to throw at the Champions' League or do we barely have enough to keep the jalopy on the playoff road as it is? (hint--our designated player is currently on another continent . . . ugh)
(2) At the moment, we're still hanging on to a playoff spot. Sadly, that spot is under major threat. If any of the four teams within one game (3 points) of United manage to overtake Soehn's smoke-belching black-and-red beater-mobile, we're on the outside looking in. We've got five games to hold them off. Note the use of "hold them off". This season is no longer about putting pressure on the sides above us. We've got enough problems without thinking that far ahead. At the moment, we've just got to focus on putting one foot in front of the other and keeping a few yards ahead of the tsunami. Dallas, who we happen to be visiting on Sunday, are one of those four teams salivating behind us. Six-pointer? You betcha! Too bad we've proven insanely vulnerable to balls splitting the defense for quick attackers to run onto, and Dallas have lately been exploiting this sort of attack with a fresh and dangerous Jeff Cunningham. Ruh-roh, Shaggy!
So, what to do? I suppose much depends upon health and fitness. Fred may be relatively intact, but his creativity is more of the personal variety. Those who possess the sort of creativity that makes a team tick are all currently banged up (Gallardo, Moreno, Quaranta). Without a Creativity Engine to drive the beast, we're reduced to defend-and-counter. That's not the sort of game that favors our big danger-man, Emilio. Nor does it favor a team with a shaky-at-best defense. The best protection for our boys at the back? Hanging on to the ball. Jaime? Marcelo? Hola?
I'll admit--at this point it's pretty tempting to just start drawing up shopping lists for next season. Instead, I'll ride this burning zeppelin ride to its fiery conclusion. Isn't that what being a fan is all about? Good times and bad and all that crap? And what's the biggest stake in the heart during all this doom-and-gloom apocalyptic flag-waving and 24/7 seppuku-watch?
That freakin' Christian Miles is providing the soundtrack.
Ugh (squared).
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