Posts Tagged Mexico
A BEGINNER’S GUIDE TO U.S. SOCCER FANDOM
Posted by Cyrus Philbrick in Bob Bradley, CONCACAF, US Soccer on September 3rd, 2009
To all those who rode their first wave of U.S. soccer fandom into the hot Mexican dust, welcome! Brush that dirt off your coat. Hang it up. Stay awhile. And chin up for god sakes. It’s not that bad. I’m here to help you through it. There are just a few things you should know so you don’t make rookie blunders like buying an Eddie Johnson jersey or dislexifying Onyewu’s name.
1. As you see, we get to trade hands-behind-our-back gut punches with Mexico. It’s only fair, except we take punches in Mexico with both hands behind our back, and they take punches with only one hand behind theirs. Therefore you should always complain that they hit us with dirtier and louder and more painful shots. Because they do.

2. No matter how easy it seems to qualify for the World Cup, remain skeptical when asked about the U.S.’s prospects of doing so. Play up underrated third world competition: “I dunno, I mean teams without stable governments just have more to play for, you know.” We don’t want too many other continental confederations catching onto the fact that qualification in CONCACAF is structured like those End-of-Camp-Prizes where even the kid who threw a flaming poop pie at another cabin gets an award for his attitude. As much as the U.S. would benefit from a more difficult road to qualification, imagine qualifying once every twelve years, like Ireland or Romania do. Screw that!
3. Whenever we lose or tie you should question Bob Bradley’s lineup decisions. This goes for being a fan of any soccer team, but especially a Bob Bradley team. To do this, simply pick a few players who aren’t Donovan, Dempsey, Onyewu, or Howard, and then ask why Bradley played them. Try it for the Mexico loss. “Man, I don’t understand why he started Clark or DeMerrit or _____ . They’re ok, but they’re just not international quality.”
4. Brian Ching starts because he’s a good “target man”. He’s kind of like an NBA player that sets a really good screen, plays solid defense, and maybe can throw an accurate entry pass. Fundamentals are very very important, especially when trying to compete at the international level. Got it?
5. One way to look like you know what you’re talking about is to say, win or lose, that the U.S. would be better off if it hired a renowned international coach.
6. Also, when watching games with friends, you should say at least once a game that U.S. soccer needs to change its development structure “from the ground up.” You don’t need to provide any details about how to accomplish this. The only evidence you need is that the U.S. never wins any big games and hasn’t produced its own Pele yet. People will be in awe of your deep knowledge of the system’s flaws.

7. Oh, and if you really want to be a true national team fan, you should make sure that you know all the players on the U.S. team but nobody on any other CONCACAF team that we play. Except it’s OK to know that Blanco guy, and that tricky Gio-something-or-other on Mexico, our arch-rivals. But you’re not allowed to know or praise anyone else because then you might look too sympathetic. Refer to these players by number or racial epithet. Anytime a player on some third world team appears one of the best players on the field then it’s obviously a result of the U.S. playing so shitty by comparison. It’s way easier to criticize the U.S. players’ performances than learn and praise new names.
8. You should probably buy a “Soccer Wave” for your kids. These are really handy, because they like totally launch the ball back to you! If you can’t afford one of these revelations then you should settle for those precisely angled nets that bounce the ball back to you in the air. Just don’t let your kids pass the ball against a wall! It’s like, “where do we live? Rio?”
9. Never watch any MLS games. You will mysteriously get dumber about soccer.◊
Bob Bradley, Brian Ching, Clint Dempsey, CONCACAF, Eddie Johnson, fandom, Landon Donovan, Mexico, Oguchi Onyewu, Tim Howard, US Soccer, World Cup Qualifying
“AZTECA BLUES”
Posted by Cyrus Philbrick in CONCACAF, Landon Donovan, Mexico, US Soccer, World Cup Qualifying on August 14th, 2009
By Landon Donovan

Touch down in Mexico City, this is gonna be a blast
Touch down in the Valley baby, this is gonna be a blast
Out on the open airstrip, breath of dying horse’s ass.
Tour Azteca at dusk now, this place is kinda scary
Tour Azteca’s big shadows, this place is kinda scary
In the slack air of the black top, I hope the hooker’s spare me.
Can’t get any sleep at night, back of my dome is bumpin
Can’t sleep in this air tonight, back of my dome is bumpin
Hotel walls are mighty thin, and hoes above me won’t stop thumpin.
Chorus
Tired and weary but we’re not gonna lose.
Just can’t shake these low down high-headed Azteca Blues.
On the field in the heat of day, sun like a yellow toe nail
On the field in the heat of noon, sun like a yellow toe nail
Crowd so loud and hot now, nobody gonna hear me wail.
Nice turn and Davies is through, how do you say ‘Hola Bitches’?
Nice turn and a Davies goal, how do you say “Hola Bitches’?
That didn’t last too long though, they’re shredding our ‘D’ to stitches.
They say I got some quick feet, but Mexicans might be quicker
They say I got some wheels, but Mexicans might be quicker.
Run after her all day, but the ball won’t let me lick ‘er
Chorus
We’re tied in the first half, but we’re not gonna lose
Just can’t shake these low down lead-footed Azteca Blues.

Bob says we need to keep the ball, but we keep giving it away
Bob says we need possession, but our backs keep giving it away
Might as well give em the match, cause we’ve plattered the fillet.
That goal was always comin, you can’t chase them forever.
That goal was always comin, you can’t chase them forever.
I’d kill to get one back, but my legs like rusty levers.
Now my stomach’s cramped, and my head’s a sweaty glue
Now I got the cramps bad, and my head’s a sweaty glue
I need some serious rest, plus Doc says I got the Swine Flu.
Chorus
Well we lost like I kinda always knew
Just can’t shake these low down snake-eyed Azteca Blues.◊

2-1, Azteca Stadium, Bob Bradley, Charlie Davies, Curse, Landon Donovan, Mexico, swine flu, U.S. National Team
EMBARRASSED, SLIGHTLY
Posted by Cyrus Philbrick in Mexico, Style, US Soccer, World Cup Qualifying on August 11th, 2009
A Fictional Account of the U.S. Loss to Mexico in the Gold Cup Finals
Our team drank beers in afternoon light on the bleachers after a men’s league soccer game. Behind us, a Latino man stumbled out of the shadow of a tree. His calloused heels scraped the pavement through the holes in his sandals. He approached, humming and smiling.
“Wha happuh?” he said. His face was scabbed and tanned, like Texas dirt. His head cocked slowly from one side to another, as if water sloshed against the walls of his ears. “What happuh?”
“This is our beer,” another teammate said.
“Estados Unidos,” he said. “USA!” He raised his fist.
“OK buddy,” another teammate said.
““Que paso? Supposed to be dos a cero. Lo que paso?” The man stopped to laugh, tilting his head back, fluid rocking to the base of his skull. “No dos a cero.”
“We played our B team,” another teammate from our all white team of former college players said, lifting a beer in the air. “Congratulations.”
“Five to Cero!” He shouted into the branches overhead. “Ha!” His head swung forward with a momentum that forced his feet to follow. He stumbled away along the fence of the field, his laugh drifting back to us in rhythmic bursts, like cars buzzing on a highway. None of us responded. We didn’t want to talk about it. We talked about beer and alternative energy.
Later that afternoon I ate tempura noodle soup at a sushi restaurant. Brains unraveled in brine. I didn’t eat again that day, mostly for monetary purposes, but also because I didn’t feel all that good. By bedtime my head throbbed from a day of sweat and beer and sun. I drank about a liter of water before lying down. My stomach a tide pool that waves couldn’t reach. My heart an exposed starfish, not pained but not comfortable, waiting for submersion. I hoped that Mexican hearts rested easier, however and wherever they rested.


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