We have been down this path before. Remember last fall, when you generously agreed to kickstart a little site known as The Classical? Since then, the site has rocked, gotten sponsors, and produced some quality writing. Now, a promising North American soccer quarterly needs your crowdsourced dollars. I speak, of course, of Eleven Quarterly.

Eleven Quarterly is the brainchild of Tom Dunmore of Pitch Invasion, David Keyes of The Culture of Soccer, and another dude who I don’t kinda know. It promises to present diverse perspectives on the nascent soccer boom in North America. The best part is that their Kickstarter awards are very good: donate $5 and you get a digital copy of Issue One a whole week before everybody else. During that week, you can smugly tweet and tumbl your superiority over and to everybody else. They will hate you but only because of envy. And envy is the best kind of hate. For $25, you get a dead tree print copy of the first issue a week before anybody else. You can keep it on your coffee table and invite your friends over to rub their noses in it. You can also take a picture with your cell phone and spread your superiority all over Instagram.

So, what are you waiting for? They have less than two weeks to reach their goal of $11,000! They are over halfway there, but need you! Hurry! Go to their Kickstarter page and donate here.

So, a new sports website, featuring the likes of Bethlehem Shoals, Eric Freeman, and Fredorrarci, is nearing lift off. There’s just one problem: NASA has privatized space travel, so these fine gentlemen need your kind contributions to get this ship off the ground. They have around two weeks left to raise about $10,000 – a bit of a task, but they’ve already raised over $40,000.

Here’s the deal.

Take the five minutes to create a KickStarter account and donate to this worthy, nascent site. Right now. Before you forget. All donations, even as little as $1, will result in a cool reward. You can make a difference, regardless of what your brain and/or life experiences say. Imagine your modest donation as the tiny snowball rolling down Mt. Everest, slowly growing in size & strength until plastering the unsuspecting Sherpa village below.

For those of you who miss my voice, literally, I was a guest on the TotalSoccerShow podcast where we talked about my soccer ebook and also the “Latin influence” on the USMNT. Listen here. For those who miss my writing, I penned a blasphemous tongue-in-cheek post at FistedAway which speculated on why Kaka has dipped in form at Madrid. Read here.

I also wrote a piece a few months back at Run of Play about human trafficking & youth soccer in the developing world. Brian Blickenstaff at Slate recently posted about suspicious activities in Qatar – are they recruiting African youths for humanitarian purposes or to stock their own national team for 2022? You decide.

And, in all its glory, the digital edition of the Second Issue of the Blizzard is now available. I highly recommend it.

Lastly, on a smart sports writing but not soccer related note, Pitchers & Poets is doing some cool posts and tweets on the kinda new American novel “The Art of Fielding.” I’m participating and encourage you to as well.

John Lennon once said “Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.” I have diverted a bit of my writing spirit to the mysterious forthcoming book. Curious readers want to know the book’s topic. Soccer. Duh. But seriously, I need a polished and approved final manuscript, the final drafts of illustrations, an ISBN number, and cover before I can spill the beans. And believe you me, beans will be spilled. There will be beans….spilled….everywhere. For now, rest content knowing that a beloved soccer blogger has graciously agreed to write the foreword. Thus, at least two pages won’t suck.

However, even the book hooplah excuse no longer holds up. In my rush to crank out a palatable ebook and pocket some cash on the Kindle easily-click-purchase model, I got a curious email from a “new media company.” Many of my favorite bloggers have gone legit, so I negotiated the fine line between de facto abandoning the site, ceding editorial control, and monetizing the site (sounds dirty, doesn’t it?). Negotiations have entered a final phase. I hope I strike the right balance. History will judge me.

Updates aside, let’s get back to futbol and enjoy last week’s smorgasbord of games. And a few lessons learned.

First, Sir Alex knows how to use a conventional telephone. Despite the rash of injuries to defenders, the touchline ban, and a few recent hiccups, United fans rejoiced when, during the Bolton game, the camera panned to Fergy chatting on a conventional phone. For the most part, we knew his obvious advice to the assistant manager. First, chew gum and give linesman the death stare. Second, in injury time, stand up and stare at your watch. Third, guide team to unexpected last-minute victory. Still, Old Trafford breathed a sight of relief.

Miraculous last-ditch win or deflating sucker punch, it depends on your affiliation. Sir Alex’s half-time substitution of Berbatov for Chicharito proved a masterstroke. Yet again, Manchester United proved itself a Houdini of a side, constantly deceiving its own fans into expecting a defeat or draw, only to emerge from the underwater coffin unscathed. And here’s the scary party – Sir Alex is currently learning how to “text message” as I write this post. Once, he masters the art, he may seek a permanent touchline ban just because he likes the view. If this happens, the orthopedic advantages of cushy public seating could add at least two years to his managerial career! Huzzah!

Second, Carlos Ancellotti’s trench coat has replaced his furled eyebrow as Chelsea’s official mascot. We will probably see the Fernando Torres signing as a watershed moment in both the Blues’ season and the history of soccer tactics: can a striker-less five man midfield work? Thus far, yes. Brazilians David Luiz and Ramires scored wonderful goals & the Blues overcame a cautious Manchester City. But how much longer can the Italian continue to rely on Torres not scoring goals? And as the Engish humidity approaches, will he shed his lucky trench coat like a Mancini scarf? Don’t bet on either.

Third, the loss to Sunderland in the Cup Final a few weeks back was neither the fault of Szczesny nor Koscielny. At the time of the incident, everybody pointed the finger at the defender and goalie for failing to deal with a long ball. However, this past weekend Squillaci and Almunia pulled off a similar stunt. Which leads to only two explanations. Either Wenger’s exclusive dressing-less Caesar salad & salmon diet for centerbacks & goalies needs a tweaking, or Jens Lehman must immediately start and Sol Campbell should have been re-signed in the summer.  And this summer, Wenger must bring back legends like Freddie Ljunberg, Robert Pires, Thierry Henry, and Patrick Vieira. No questions asked.

Fourth, the boring and monotonous La Liga two horse race saw non-shocking victories by the top two horses. Only when Real Madrid & Barcelona play 38 games will the season “merece la pena.” Although Villareal has been delightful and Valencia surprising from time-t0-time.

Fifth, MLS has started and you kinda care but not a whole lot. Yet. The transition from watching mid-season and in-form European level soccer to not-yet-fit MLS is difficult. Some never make the jump. But in mid-June, a few weeks after the Champions League final, you will make a good effort. And you’ll be surprised by the savvy Freddy Montero, speedy Agudelo, and penalty kick missing Henry.

Lastly, if you have not gotten Issue Zero of the Blizzard, then do so. Immediately.

But back to the news of today, not tomorrow. Let’s begin.

Colombia has numerous badges of dishonor in the soccer world: they had a World Cup yanked away in the 1980′s and also shot one of their players after the ’94 World Cup. Sadly, the homicide and economic futility were but a precursor to this crowning act of owlicide. [ALERT - this video is not suitable for children under the age of 20]

The culprit? Panamanian soccer player Luis Moreno. The location: Colombia. The victim? An owl, the mascot for Atletico Junior. I regret to say that the owl died shortly after the incident. The punishment: two game ban and $560 fine. Will Colombia ever be the same?

Sadly, this incident comes just as Colombia appear poised for a stunning economic recovery. I fully anticipate that decades from now, respected Colombian economists will pinpoint this moment as the “niksput” – the time when an otherworldly tragedy undermined the fragile confidence of the private sector, thereby triggering a massive depression.

We will not forget about this incident in a matter of weeks. You do not have the attention span of a gnat with ADD. You have been taking your adderall.

Moving on to the next earth-shattering news event of the past week, we realize that violence it not just a problem in Latin America. Apparently, Ashley Cole shot an intern at Chelsea with an air gun. How on Earth could such a stupid thing occur, you ask? Well, here’s a pretty accurate animated remake:

Unlike the owl, the intern appears to have very strong vital signs. He is expected to make a full recovery. And as for Cashley? The police are investigating. This basically means a fine and a slap on the wrist. I suspect a disagreement over a Phil Collins song may have sparked the altercation, but my memory has been known to blur and mix and mash.

Some good has come of the incident, though. In an attempt to defend the rights of the accused by fostering empathy, a website allows you to spend a day in Cashley’s shoes and see the world through his eyes. Check it out here. Try not to cheat on Cheryl Cole for that one day.

I reiterate. We will not forget about this incident in a matter of weeks. You do not have the attention span of a gnat with ADD. You have been taking your adderall.

In related world-changing news, the horrors of violence continue to scar our beloved beautiful game. This time, man’s best friend turned into our own worst enemy.  As a midfielder in the Brazilian league prepared to launch a cross, he got busted by a canine cop for smuggling over 100 pounds of cocaine inside the ball. Well, maybe that last part has yet to be confirmed, but the crowd was impressed by the defending.

Of course, conservative American TV pundits respected the dog’s badge but voiced their frustration at this stewardship of the public’s tax dollars. Playing soccer while on the job? What’s next, “paid vacation”? Lush Rimbaugh attributed the lax and low productivity canine culture to long entrenched (and abused) canine collective bargaining rights. Which must be destroyed.

I repeat. We will not forget about this incident in a matter of weeks. You do not have the attention span of a gnat with ADD. You have been taking your adderall.

Lastly, South Africa took a hit to the piggybank to host the last World Cup, but don’t worry about Sepp Blatter & FIFA. They held a few bake sales, sold some old desks, sublet office space, and managed to scrape together $6 billion in profit over the last four years, including pocket change under the cushions in the official FIFA couch. Barely enough to get by, right?

But here’s the conspiracy: FIFA announces their profits early in the week, and later in the week ban snoods. Coincidence? I think not. FIFA derives their profits from lucrative sponsorship agreements. And what would upset current sponsors more than an upstart fashion garment that wasn’t under their collective corporate clutches? This is the only plausible explanation.

FIFA’s pretext for banning snoods only raises more red flags. The safety of the players? Their health? Players are mere commodities to play at FIFA tournaments without pay so that FIFA can generate enormous revenue. If FIFA cared about their health, they would reduce the number of games. This Sepp quote from 1995 is hysterically ironic. Oh, and unlike goal-line tech, FIFA did not conduct even a single snood-health study. Suspicious!

Thus, only one explanation makes sense: Snoodgate.

Unlike the other news stories, this one most definitely will have repercussions for future generations of snood wearing children, children whose dreams have been forever crushed. Somewhere, the next Samir Nasri cries into his snood, throws away his cleats, and takes up racquetball in disgust.

First, the Guardian reports that Inter faxed an offer for Javier Mascherano to Liverpool. The offer? Sulley Muntari plus 6 million pounds. Now I know your confusion – after reading that sentence, you thought that Inter must have offered to pay Liverpool 6 million pounds to take Muntari’s wages off the book. No. I’m afraid not. Re-read the sentence…. Yep. So here’s my explanation.

Alcohol. Some sneaky intern got a bit tipsy while working late hours and mailed in a preposterous fax to Liverpool. The Guardian article failed to give a date or time for the fax, so this is entirely plausible. Another explanation is that Muntari sent the fax himself, hoping to leave Inter, and wrote it in confusing language in the hopes of confusing Liverpool. Perhaps he wrote “You will not unsign Javier Mascherano in the possible exchange for accepting Sulley Muntari and you don’t not dislike six million pounds DO NOT SIGN HERE IF YOU DON’T ACCEPT.”

In other news, the NYT reports that FIFA’s crack team of investigators confirmed that the North Korean squad was not tortured. How so? Through the number one, most effective, impossible to avoid investigation technique of a letter. FIFA, using proceeds from the World Cup, paid for the envelope, postage, pen, paper, and also the gas to drive the company car to the mailbox. Of course, an unpaid intern drove the car, but Sepp bought that intern a nice coffee at a Starbuck’s on the return trip.

After such heavy investigating, the crack team of FIFA justice league avengers took a mighty rest. After a bit of time, conclusive proof of the innocence of North Korea arrived in the form of another airtight piece of evidence – a letter! Now, I know that some legal types may say “hearsay blah blah inadmissible”, but let’s not confuse the issues. This letter was on very official looking stationary and absolutely positively contained no powder substance that could be confused for a terrorist chemical attack. Thus, the world sleeps easy knowing that justice has been done, and that the wheels of justice turn ever so smoothly and swiftly.

Finally, believe it or not, CNNSI reports that a team and it’s fan base may not like Felix Magath. I have a theory and am prepared to take the heat for it. Despite its popularity, relevance, and simplicity, I follow the simple tenets of the anti-Felix the Cat Defamation League. Observe.

Basically, Felix the coach at Schalke is just feeling the wrath of the tidal wave of anti-Felix the Cat sentiment. At his time, Felix was one of the few black animated protagonists and light years ahead of Garfield both in terms of figure and social commentary. But with his success came a price – just as Barack provoked the Tea Party, Felix’s popularity drew its fair share of haters. And they now hate Felix the coach. If only he’d been named Martin Luther or Malcolm Exe or something not controversial. But no, his parents marked him for life, and….well, he just has to get on with it.

So, no. I am not Mister Manager. The gossip tales do not tug at my heartstrings. Press conferences and asides from overpaid agents do not make me salivate at the mouth. Why? Too much smoke. Not enough fire.

Except for this one.

The ever excellent Argentine footy blogger at HEGS brought to my attention a very curious case – the Juan Roman Riquelme anti-transfer transfer. You see, most transfers involve a player going from one team to another. However, Riquelme’s contract ended, yet he wants to stay at Boca. Some individuals refer to this as a “renewal”, “resigning”, or an “extension.” I prefer anti-transfer transfer.

But the differences between this anti-transfer transfer and the typical gossip mill transfers do not end there. Oh no. You see, most players say “it’s not about the money” while the clubs talk about “building contenders.” Granted, there are a few exceptions. Regardless, the Juan Roman Riquelme anti-transfer transfer is in an entirely different dimension, a dimension where your eyes, like, are worthless because the fourth dimension, like, does that to your eyes.

Why?

Well, I could only speculate on the fourth dimension’s effects on your mind’s capacity to perceive different dimensions, but in the case of Juan Roman Riquelme we have some solid facts. Yes, Riquelme, the publicity darling and coaches pet who has twice resigned from the national team, let out the hysterically vapid details.

First, Riquelme is furious that the Boca Juniors offer pegged his maximum salary to the Argentine peso. Riquelme, an astute economist who in his spare time invests in the London Stock Exchange and reads the Wall Street Journal, fears that a rising dollar and weakening peso could significantly lower his pay.

Second, Boca Juniors absolutely insists that Riquelme include his (presumably worthless) transfer rights so that they can use it as a tax write off. Yes, the man who lead Villareal to the Champions League semi-finals now has a negative transfer value. How the mighty have fallen. And Boca along with him.

So, there you have it. The key thing in this anti-transfer transfer mill of truth, not rumors, is unashamedly money. And no, not just in terms of figures, but rather tax write-offs and currency speculation. This is some seriously delectable estate planning money grabbery, almost on par with Arshavin’s complaint about the English income tax hike. Almost.

Let’s indulge West Ham and brainstorm a few creative monikers based on Olympic mascots past. Here we go…

The West Ham Collection of Young Professional Friends

Hello there. We are a collection of young professional friends who all live in downtown Vancouver. We live a vapid existence of sitting in coffee shops and talking about past failed relationships, over-examining current relationship prospects, and being cautiously optimistic about future relationship prospects. We have not reproduced and do not plan on it in the near future. Check out our TV show on network TV weeknights right after CSI: Manitoba.

The Westham Unsuspecting Alien Asian

I am Nini and do not believe my birth certificate – I may look like I’m 6 years old, but I’m really a 15 year old Gold medal gymnast. Do not be turned off by my elaborate headdress and green attire – I do not mean any harm. Also, do not let my height and weight fool you – the always reliable government of public growth reports that I am growing by 10 inches and 100 pounds a year. Please, please, buy me. Buy me. Buy….me…..

The West Ham Closeted Apartment Mates

Why hello there. We are best friends that have happened to share an apartment for well over a decade. We do not date and understand one another in a preternaturally suspicious fashion, but your suspicions are unfounded. We are never physically affectionate in public and are not legally married. The apartment we share does only have one bedroom and one bed, but that is to cut down on heating costs. Please…don’t tell our parents.

The West Ham What the Fucks

Hi’ya! What happens when an organizing committee overspends on construction development and has a bad case of the embezzle-bumps? Why, they have to cut costs on anything they can, including advertising! Thus you get me, a puppet fashioned together from scraps of cloth purchased at garage sales, flea markets, and thrift stops. Have you ever wondered what the anti-Christ would look like after touching down on Earth? Bet you didn’t expect him to have a big old smile! Aw shucks, ya made me blush!

I won’t bother with a vote, because it’s obvious the clear winner is….

As a blogger, I am excited by the prospect of a NY Times pay-per-content model because I am a media startup with little-to-no-overhead who does not charge directly for my content. Thus, when consumers decide between paying for the Goal Blog or getting me for free, I am pretty sure a few will decide FreeMe or “Frelliott.” But Frelliot alone does not tell the tale…

Let’s take a quick look at the history of press. Monks handwrote books. They were way too expensive for all but the most educated and Latin speaking of the world. Some dude invented the printing press – information could now be disbursed widely at a reasonably profit per head. This was a major shift philosophically and economically – from the elite model to the populism amok.

The internet has tossed a heavy heap of gasoline on the populist information fire. The past printers who had a quasi monopoly on the mass distribution and publication of information can no longer count on that monopoly. The barriers to entry and the cost mean the “blog” has put the traditional media conglomerates under direct attack. Before, a journalism degree required a self-deprecating sense of humor – now it entails a serious pay cut.

More importantly, consumers have control over the media they consume and when they consume it. Since CNN, 24 hour news consumption has increased, and more people are consuming media than ever before. The Murdoch reaction – banning his content from search engines, overlooks a simple fact: search engines have replaced the paper boy and delivered readers for free. Plus, Yahoo does not toss the paper in your window, eliciting a serious of shouting “Deeeennnniiissss.”

So what will happen with this metered system? Well, the Times has a great reputation it can live off for at least half a century. But when you look beyond the name, the failure to grapple with shifting business models has done in other past reputable companies. Is the meter a short-term gamble to stave off financial woes while they acclimate to the 21st century? I hope so. I love the Times and have great respect for the Goal Blog.

But the meter reminds me too much of the ill fated Maginot line employed by the French in World War 2. Yes, they will stop the barbarians from a direct assault, but bloggers will just creep in through Belgium. One of us will pay for content, cite it without a link, and then we will cite that guy. The Times could sent angry emails and revoke accounts, but would such gag-orders be effective? Or good publicity?

Right now, the established media is playing behind the ball. The fact the Times has PPC ads from Google, which any Payday loan credit site can pop money into, shows how 2004 the business model is. In the internet age, 5 years is an eternity – the difference Netscape and Firefox and Chrome. The traditional media has a slender 1-0 lead, is down a man, but here’s the problem: the competition gets a Sir Alex Ferguson dream of unlimited injury time. The media can run, chug, foul, and scower, but only a change in tactics to offense can get them out of this hole. First they have to stop digging.

One caveat: other Great Bloggers disagree.

No, the worrisome part is what the News of the World discovered – Didier Drogba and Michael Ballack sharing the jaccuzzi. Now, if Joe Cole had been plopped in the hot water tank with those boys, I could understand. Or even Bosingwa. But just the two of them? Naturally, my mind wandered to the immensely intellectual dialogue which must have ensued before being rudely interrupted by the deviant Terry and the undercover journalists.

-So, Didier, how is your emerging markets investment portfolio looking?

-Well, Michael, while the global recession has put a damper on inflation, interest rates, and conventional savings accounts, the growth rate in many parts of Africa and Latin America continues to hum along to the tune of 10%

-[Eyes open; jaw drops] Really? And may I inquire as to what specific countries you are investing in? It seems like political instability would preclude a reasonable return in most of them.

-Well, Michael, a gentlemen never spills his secrets. And as for instability, in all markets one encounters risk. That’s why it’s ever so important to quantify the risk, look yourself in the eye, and ask: am I willing to do this? Can I live with the consequences?

-[Long pause] So, can I take the 20-25 yard right footed free kicks next game?

-[Long pause] No.

-[Long pause] Please?

-[John Terry, ticket scalper, and two men in fine Italian suits enter] Oh, hello John Terry and three totally random strangers. You kinda caught us at an odd moment.

-[John Terry rolls his eyes and leads three gentlemen out; Long pause] So, where were we?

The FIFA handslap brigade is at it again. This time, the dastardly, ever cruel judges at the FIFA headquarters, conveniently located atop a menacing mountaintop (known as “Skull Mountain” by local indigenous peoples), have issued a very strong sentence: Diego Maradonna has been banned from all football activities for two months. Yes, you read that right. ALL football activities. This is not a touchline ban. This is not a game suspension. This is every single activity related to football and/or footballery. The obvious question: how does this affect you?

Well, I begin with the worst news. Unfortunately, Diego’s traveling circus of indoor soccer will grind to a halt. Yes, the Diego “showball” tour, with its proceeds destined to some charity with a CEO that undoubtedly is a blood relative of Maradonna, will cease for a time.

You will have to content yourself with youtube footage of an overweight, out of shape, and probably intoxicated Diego wrongfooting an amateur 22 year old whose parents paid hundreds of thousands of dollars for the honor.

But there is good news. VERY good news. First, a religious theme park in Buenos Aires is considering a Diego slip-and-slide ride in honor of the Argentine victory over Peru. More importantly, the Diego activity was a slide, not a dive. Thus, as the slip-and-slide is distinct from soccer, Diego can continue slipping and sliding to his heart’s content.

And of course, while a handball is certainly related to the sport of soccer and thus banned, Diego still has flexibility to make hand gestures unrelated to football. If you see Maradonna on the street, be sure to wave and exchange a “saludo” with the Argentine idol.

Don’t worry – he won’t bite!