A quiver empty of arrows. A bow broken in two. A string pulled too hard, too long. For years, we believe that in the battle of sports takes, that takes were a renewable source of energy, like coal in mountains or oil in deserts or those strawberry candies that always appear in glass jars in a grandmother’s house.
Now, we know better.
Or do we? Continue reading “The Center of the Sports Take Universe” »
I am now posting so irregularly, it’s almost laughable to be posting this. Still, I have paying eInk Kindle subscribers, have gotten some emails, and also some messages via Twitter. The holiday season in the US, from Thanksgiving to New Year, I am normally driving across the country and too busy to really think about soccer, let alone write anything of substance. I catch what games I can, but that’s about it.
This year, though, the break was hastened by a family tragedy and medical emergency. My wife and I found ourselves suddenly packing up the wagon, hastily filling suitcases, and then hauling ass 16 hours to see a dear one who is gravely ill. Since then, it’s been a mixture of hospital visits, commodes, depends, tapioca pudding, physical therapy, heart care clinics, and not much else. Continue reading “Annual Blogger Break Alert (Kinda)” »
As Alexander Pope wrote in his Essays on Criticism: “To err is human; to thirst, also quite commonplace.” For the last decade, fans of soccer have had our eye-balls assaulted by Cristiano Ronaldo. Basically, he is a dude that works out a lot, and wants everybody to know that he works out a lot. His skin is an unnatural orange presumably from over-tanning, he wears short shorts that would make a 1970′s NBA player blush, and he invents excuses to take off his shirt anytime a camera may be within five miles.
He has been mocked for his behavior. But I will now dive even deeper into this important, salient issue and raise two very profound points. Continue reading “Somber Reflections on the Thirstiest Picture of Cristiano Ronaldo on Social Media Yet” »
as your trusted guardian of all that is cool and just and neat and worth reading, I would like to direct your attention to a really cool Spanish soccer journalism project. It is called “Los Demas”, and here’s the deal: a monthly long-form piece of journalism about teams in La Liga other than Real Madrid and Barcelona. Continue reading “Spanish Futbol Plus Excellent Journalism = Support!” »
- Ten-year global partnership
- Soft-As-Warm-Porridge stool softeners to be used at Aon Training Complex.
MANCHESTER, England — (BUSINESS WIRE) — Manchester United (NYSE: MANU) is proud to announce a partnership with SAWP. The agreement heralds United’s first ever Official Stool Softener Partner. Continue reading “Manchester United Celebrate Europa League Campaign by Announcing First Ever Stool Softener Sponsorship!” »
Most of you don’t live in Houston. A good chunk don’t follow closely the women’s professional soccer league in the US. I know, I know – the league is young, the talent is a bit erratic, and there’s no pro/rel, so why bother? Because soccer is fun, duh. And soccer played at a high level is fun to watch.
Just like with the men’s game, though, sometimes the curious and puzzling things happen off the field. Such as with the Houston Dash’s Kealia Ohai. Continue reading “Rising US Soccer Star Dates White Dude with Dangerous Job” »
Everybody is kinda freaking out because allegedly live sports TV ratings are dropping. Both the NFL and the English Premier League have reported major “dips” in viewership. However, I’m very skeptical.
Something much bigger is at work. Continue reading “The Dip That Wasn’t” »
In case you missed the so-called “Decision Day” of MLS games this past weekend, a player named Kei Kamara scored a goal. All agree twas a nice goal of the finest variety, one worthy of celebration. Of course, players have shown emotion and excitement after the scoring of a goal for time eternal. And since Roger Milla danced for Cameroon in the World Cup, the rhythmic movement of one’s body has long been part and parcel of said celebrations.
Yet Kei Kamara got wrongly punished. Continue reading “The Case for Kamara” »
Yesterday, Jose Mourinho’s Manchester United played Liverpool in Liverpool. The game ended in a 0-0 draw. Of course, some nil nil draws can be exciting games, pulsating affairs that draw deserved “oohs” and “aahs” from the crowd. This was not one of them. Over 90 minutes, Liverpool created two chances: a quick snapshot that David DeGea palmed away to the right, and speculative curler from distance that DeGea palmed away to his left.
In between, a lot of nothing happened. Continue reading “The Best Soccer Narratives I Could Possibly Fathom Not Hearing Ever Again” »
We at Futfanatico are beyond delighted to give you exclusive coverage of the newest Olivier Stone film, “On Any of Shay Given’s Sundays.” This epic sports drama revolves around an aging coach and goalkeeper tandem that battle the rabid fans, fervent media, meddling female owners, and their own self doubt. It is based on the English Premiere League, but was not officially sanctioned.
I. “THE” Inspirational Speech Monologue
[Old white man paces around locker room full of young soccer players in various states of dress and undress.] I’m not quite sure what to say really. We are mere minutes from the biggest thermonuclear world war of our lives, and it all comes down to today. [Pauses to soak in brilliance of own words. Says a few of them silently to self. Nods in agreement.] We either uncrumble as a team, we mend like two pieces of jello that are left side by side over a period of 30 minutes – or we unmend. We crumble. Like two pieces of jello left in separate containers. [Shots of players in locker room.] In the fridge. O-v-e-r-n-i-g-h-t. [Pauses to glance around room] We gotta mend guys – inch for inch, kick for kick, tackle for tackle. Or we are done. [Pulls hands out of pocket to gesture. Puts hands back in pocket]. We are in Hell; and we can stick around, get our asses handed to us, or…we can fight our way to the upper place, the not Hell. [Player has towel draped over head]. We can jump out of Hell, but we have to do it together. Inch for inch. Jump for jump. [Pulls right hand out of pocket. Gestures. Puts hand back in pocket] I’d love to do it for you, but it’s not going to happen. I’m too young in the tooth. [Pulls left hand out of pocket. Opens mouth. Feels upper palate with index and forefinger. Puts hand back in pocket] I look around; I see these young guys on thousand pound a week wages, driving fancy cars, and I think – do they get it? [Pulls hands out of pockets. Unbuttons the top two buttons of dress shirt.] I…I can’t be in your shoes. And you don’t want to be in mine. I’m a mess. I’m old. I’m middle aged and have ran off everybody who ever loved me. [Star winger gently toys with skull cap] I burned through cash after getting addicted to online poker. I Believe it or not [Pulls hands out of pockets. Clasps hands. Unclasps hands. Puts hands back in pocket] As of late…I can’t…I can’t stand to see my own face in the mirror. The widow’s peak. The gray hairs. The untrimmed nose hairs. The gray hairs in the widow’s peak. The grayer hairs coming out of my nostrils. I…I’ve hit rock bottom. [Pulls hands out of pockets. Puts face in hands. Puts hands back in pockets] I… I still play Pokemon Go. [Central defender opens mouth in shock] When you get a bit older in life, like, say, 29, you start to lose things. [Pauses. Looks down. Takes right hand out of pocket. Scratches back of head. Looks at fingers. Thinks "white flakes...like snow."] That’s…it’s just a part of life. [Star winger in skull cap slowly nods head "no"] You have to get old to realize that. [Other central defender chews on gum, possibly Bubbalicious] You realize…life is a game of inches, and kicks, but also brotherhood. In the game of football, or life, the margin for error is tiny. Like, really small. [Star winger in skull cap slowly nods "yes" for a few seconds, then starts to nod "no" again. Licks lips] A half second slow to shoot, and it’s blocked. The chance goes begging. [Holding midfielder in tight white under shirt looks down at own chest; notices nipples are erect] You forget to pay child support for a decade in another country, and suddenly you find yourself in jail without a passport. Inches. Kicks. Mistakes. Brotherhood. [Coughs and then clears throat] But I’m still here. I’m here because I’m willing to fight, to kick, to push on for that inch. [Shouts of support] Because that inch is more than inch. That inch is the first inch in a series of inches, with inches all around us. Think about that. You. Me. Inches. [Slow hand clap starts; star winger in skull cap refuses to join] Now. Gentlemen. What we you gonna do? [Assistant coach picks nose] I mean, what are we gonna do? [Shouts] ARE WE GONNA KICK FOR THOSE INCHES??? Continue reading “On Any of Shay Given’s Sundays” »