Stop.  Get off Facebook.

There are people in Argentina dying, you know.  River Plate. the most successful club in the land of Maradona Messi, has been relegated from the top division for this first time in their billion year existence.  I don’t think I’d be guilty of exaggeration if I said the fans weren’t taking it too well.  They’re currently making the Canucks riots look like the sorority pillow fight in Animal House.

There are so many rumors flying around, I don’t know what to believe– death threats to Diego Simeone’s kids, black smoke covering Buenos Aires, television vans toppled, canteens set on fire, invasion of the club museum, fatalities.  Frankly, it’s hard to believe in anything coming from Argentine brass.  The problem of football violence in their country is so systemic, it’s often suggested that the authorities are indeed the worst perpetrators.

I have no inside information, I’m not an ITK (“in the know”), but the current climate surrounding River’s relegation sure seems ripe to me for disaster.  Thugs in club tops, thugs in police uniforms, and anger in abundance.  We can only hope the Monumental is still standing in a couple days, and that we won’t have to wait too long for our next Superclasico.

*****

Han Solo Cup: next Gold Cup trophy?

After that little dose of the heavy stuff, my selling out Saturday and attending the Gold Cup Final doesn’t seem so bad, right?  Right?!  Here’s how I finally reneged on my promise to avoid the Gold Cup.  Got an email from a friend midweek that basically said, “I know you’re boycotting the Gold Cup but I have an extra ticket for the Final, wanna come?”  Me:  “Uh, sure!”  That’s the thing about betraying one’s principles; it doesn’t happen at high noon during the last battle of the last war, it comes on a busy Tuesday while you’re just trying to squeeze in some lunch.  But when your national team is playing a cup final (albeit a solo cup) in your backyard, you go watch.

Before the match I had Mexico to win 2-1.  They had the better squad and had played much more convincingly than the US during the buildup, plus you figure the doping suspensions only added to their desire to shove it to CONCACAF.  But anything goes in these big rivalry games, and overall the US has probably been stronger since the 2002 World Cup knockout round.  And the US was playing at home… or so I thought?

The last time I went to a US-Mexico game was January 19, 1997.  Mexico beat the United States 2-0 in the U.S. Cup and after the match Marcelo Balboa gave me his (un)used cleats.  (Tiny feet, totally lessened my opinion of him as a man).  I don’t remember the atmosphere in the Rose Bowl then, but I wouldn’t have noticed anything off-putting that day anyway– I was rooting for Mexico.

This Saturday I most certainly was not, and I quickly realized supporters of my kind were vastly outnumbered.  My favorite part in The Ten Commandments is after Heston  leads the Israelites through the Red Sea, when Pharaoh’s chariots try to follow only to get completely swallowed up by thunderous waves.  It kinda felt like that, except instead of water it was Mexicans drowning me.  Red, white, and green–lots of green– enveloped me at every step.  Mariachis, Bud Light Cheladas, the whole nueve yards.  Might as well have been playing at the Azteca.

Perhaps the reason I’ve been so anti-Gold Cup is because somehow I saw this coming.  I correctly predicted Bradley’s opening goal (even the header part), the demise of the American left flank with the introduction of Bornstein (sensationally awful), and the Dos Santos nail in the coffin.  Maybe deep down I knew before the Gold Cup that I was in for a climactic conflict of emotion when these two countries would meet.

I wish I could pinpoint the day between 1997 and 2011 when my allegiance switched, but the truth is it was never so black and white.  As a Mexican American, I always want both teams to do well.  I get up early/stay up late to watch their big games, feel the same pain when each country is knocked out of the World Cup, and celebrate all their goals as if they were my own.  So who am I to back when Mexico and the US go head-to-head?

Balboa Mullet: another litmus test for Americanness

The prevailing attitude for all hyphenated Americans (no pejorative connotation intended) is to root for their country of descent over the United States.  It’s not just Mexican Americans, but Italian Americans, Irish Americans and so on.  It’s been this way as long as I can remember.  I guess as a youngster I just always unknowingly rolled with that tide, but I can’t speak for the majority.  Maybe it’s the romantic notion of diaspora that causes people to forsake the US; maybe it’s a cultural identity thing; maybe it’s perceived as being more cosmopolitan to root for a foreign country; or maybe it’s simply because the US has traditionally been weaker than most countries of emigration and people just want to support a front-running team (arguably, and ironically, a very “American” approach to sporting allegiances).

But that don’t make it right.  As I sat surrounded by 90,000 Mexico fans Saturday, my first thought was good on them for at least putting on for their country.  Then I realized their massive outnumbering of the US fans was no coincidence– these people in green are American like me.  And at some point after Balboa handed me his stinky boots, I came to believe that whatever your descent, if you’re Something American, it’s your duty to get behind the United States.  Because that’s the thing with this country–we’re all Something Americans.  Those (nonexistent) hyphens are what unite us and make us distinctly, yep, American.  Here, I’ve even put together a little checklist in case you’re still in doubt of your Americanness:

• Born in the United States.
• Speak/understand/read/write English greater than or equal to any other language.
• Lived the majority of your life in the US.
• Rely upon American school systems.
• Vote in the US.
• Watch Seinfeld and/or Friends.
• Support the US during the Olympics.
• Happily accept a tax refund from the IRS.
• Know the words to the Pledge of Allegiance and the Star Spangled Banner.

If any two of the above statements apply to you, you’re pulling for the United States, dude.  Actually, screw it.  We can solve this whole immigration issue in one fell swoop.  Just give citizenship to anyone who will root for US Soccer ahead of their parent country’s team.  (They have to like it, too).  Litmus test sorted, American fanbase sorted.  The next World Cup we host?  We win.

*****

The Man of the Match performance of Dos Santos prompted a swift email from Ravi.  “What is it about Gio?  He looks good at major tournaments but never seems to be able force his way into club reckoning.”  Indeed, the Dos Santos case has been a baffling one.  How can a perennial starter for El Tri struggle so much to hold down a place at a decent European club?  I’ve mulled this Rubik’s Cube over for hours in my head, and I never get anywhere (just like an actual Rubik’s Cube).  So instead of trying to figure it out, I’ve decided to field my first XI of players that are impressive at the international level but tepid for their clubs.

*A special mention should go to Freddy Adu, who proved me wrong and played like a Hezbollah rocket in the Gold Cup Final.  He may force his way into this team if he continues to perform like that for the United States.

Kingson

Ferreira   Heitinga   Seitaridis   Salcido

Podolski   Kallstrom   Gourcuff   Dos Santos

Mutu   Baros

Anyone else you’d like to see in there?

*****

The transfer rumors are flying high.  Downing and Adam looking the most likely to Liverpool.  If they both come and Meireles and Aquilani leave, my next post will be titled “The Madness of King Kenny.”  Talk about a leap of faith into British arms.

Arsenal apparently in for Juan Mata?  Wenger doesn’t have the cash for a bidding war, but I wouldn’t put it past him to try to screw a rival into paying over the odds.  Once Fabregas deserts him, Wenger will officially be the most bitter man in football.

Andre Villas-Boas is the new Chelsea manager.  No matter how hard he tries to convince us he’s not Jose Mourinho, he’s sure emulating the Special One pretty well.  Personally, I think it’s a bad move for him.  That Chelsea squad is becoming a retirement home and eventually Abramovich will clamp his purse shut.  Great move for Chelsea though, they got themselves a top manager.

Hearts are becoming like the French team at the 2010 World Cup.  Double you tea eff, Hearts.

Every picture I see Andy Carroll in, he’s boozing it up.  Same for Rooney.  And we’re all totally cool with this?  Somehow, I was less offended when I saw Zidane lighting up cigarettes in his heyday.  Now that I think about it, it was pretty cool.  If big tobacco instantly wanted to have 90% of the world puffing away right now, they’d invest all their marketing dollars in ads of Zizou with his cig in his lip.  He’s like a Jacobean Clint Eastwood with that thing in there.

I ordered a North Korean flag the other day, but much to my disappointment it didn’t arrive in time for the Gold Cup Final.  Thinking about making that my thing– hauling a North Korean flag to every sporting event I go to.  I might even spray paint “Kim Jong-illmatic” on there like the English do to their St. George’s Crosses.  Loved all the North Korean drama at the World Cup.  Double love all the myths about their fearless leader.  Secretly, I like to believe some of them are true.  It’s like Santa Claus for adults.  Keep your eyes peeled for me on Sportscenter…

Man United all set to sign David De Gea from Atletico.  Proficient shot stopper, but suspect in his positioning.  £18 million reportedly the price, eh?  Fergie’s claims that United had empty pockets were as laughable  as the scene in Notorious when we’re supposed to believe Biggie’s mom thinks the plate of cocaine she finds under his bed is just “nasty, dried-up old mashed potatoes!”

*****

Finally, check this out.  It’s an awesome documentary a friend of mine in college made about the Tanzanian women’s team.  For more info visit twigastars.com.

Odd-numbered summers are the worst.  No World Cups, no European Championships.  Nothing substantive to ween myself off the football onto a meager but steady diet of baseball and golf.  I mean, there’s the CONCACAF Gold Cup and all, but there’s also Brussels sprouts.  Screw Brussels sprouts.  Don’t eat them; never have.  Don’t trust anyone that enjoys them.  I’ve given up on world peace because there are at least 2,537 people out there that “like” Brussels sprouts, and I’m certain I’ll never be able to coexist with such masochistic freaks.  Honestly.

But this Gold Cup…  I wish I could get into it, but how am I supposed to take the tournament seriously when it doesn’t even give itself that courtesy?

Taking the Gold Cup seriously is like taking 2011 Ice Cube seriously

First of all, look at CONCACAF.  It’s manipulated by powerthirsty, corrupt men; operationally, it’s riddled with inefficiency among the lemming-like countries that comprise the organization.  It’s basically a human centipede of a football federation.  And that’s saying something, considering Sepp Blatter and Jack Warner probably slang tournament venues in the bathroom stalls of the Gentlemen’s Club with Michel Platini on the reg.

Next, spare a moment for the mighty 40 nations in CONCACAF.  By my count, there are only 2 teams that can actually win the Gold Cup (US and Mexico), 10 halfway decent teams at any given time (feeling pretty generous here), 27 teams that my high school JV could beat, and 1 country that sounds like a band my dad would listen to (St. Vincent and the Grenadines).  No, I didn’t make that last one up.

Now the tournament itself.  With only 12 participating squads, that gives us a grand total of 3 groups of 4, each vying for a spot in the revered 2013 Confederations Cup.  Put all that together and you have a competition with the prestige of a fecal piñata.  Which is precisely how it’s being treated by some of the players.  You know how I know the Gold Cup is garbage?  Mexico had five of their players suspended and they’re still going to win it.  In fact, I hope they do, just to make a mockery of the tournament.  They’re off to a solid start, blaming the failed drug tests on eating “bad meat.”  (If you’re keeping score at home, Mexico is now tied with Italy’s 2004 Socks Too Tight claim in the “I’m embarrassed at how bad an excuse that is” category).

Besides.  Promoting the Gold Cup in June is essentially urinating in the face of the MLS, currently hitting midseason.  Think David Stern would allow FIBA to hold a showcase tournament in January?  Hey USSF, don’t undermine the credibility of the MLS like this, then whine when people don’t watch American soccer / players don’t want to play here.  I want you to make me feel like I’m missing out on something awesome if I’m not tuning in to the MLS.  Hook me.  I’ll even give you a tip– here’s the bait:

So, how to counter the Gold Cup Blues?  Never fear, Old Sanchez has you sorted.  I’ve taken the liberty of compiling a nice list of 10 activities to do instead of allowing John Harkes (or whoever) to molest your eardrums with Gold Cup commentary.  Consider it an early Christmas in July present.  I’ll let you guess which of these 10 I have done and which I have not.

1. Catch some of EURO U21.  Watch the superstars of tomorrow blah blah blah.  Just sit back and enjoy the fact that someone named Xherdan Shaqiri might win the Golden Ball.  And maybe Christian Eriksen will finally live up to the hype.  Oh, and I saw Spain completely toy with England the other day, only to watch the mustard fall off the hotdog with a late England equalizer.  Quick thoughts from that: Kyle Walker is gonna lock down the RB position for Spurs and will shine next season;  Juan Mata was so much better than everyone on the pitch, it wasn’t fair– (In these youth tournaments, most players hit the passes that are open to them, but Mata was playing whatever ball he felt like); coming second was Javi Martinez, who Liverpool should’ve been knocking down the door to get post-Alonso; Thiago isn’t fully there yet, but when he blossoms, goodnight Madrid; Diego Capel plays like he was raised by wolves… still.

2. Drink five daiquiris.  Yup.

In street clothes, Juan Mata is often mistaken for a pizza delivery boy

3.  Stimulate your Page 6 senses with Manchester United’s naughtiest scandals.  Not that I’m into that sort of thing, but I bet you are.  Some pretty shady stuff going on at Old Trafford.  And no, Howard Webb isn’t even involved.  Unless, Ryan Giggs…

4. Watch this recent video of Ronaldinho.  Then, try to tell me we weren’t robbed too soon of greatness.  Sorry to keep harping on this, but I miss vintage R10.  The game misses him.  Only Zidane could glide like that– who knew that the 2006 World Cup was both of their swan songs?

5.  Pick the winner of the 2011 US Open.  Golf.  Much more exciting than the Gold Cup, and way more difficult.  Mcdowell, Oosthuizen, Kaymer, Schwartzel– those are the most recent winners of the last 4 majors.  If you tell me you were familiar with them before their wins, you’re a liar.  If you tell me you don’t long for dominant Tiger again, you’re a liar.  We need a strong Tiger like we need a strong Lebron, Yankees, Floyd Mayweather, Jose Mourinho, and Real Madrid.  Who do I like this weekend?  Without glancing at the pairings, I’ll take Sergio, Choi, Donald, and Watson.  Who knows how it’ll turn out?

6.  Prepare yourself for Man City winning the Champions League in the next 5 years.  This discount doomsday bunker should pretty much cover it.  Because we need to be honest here– who wants to live in a world where City’s C.R.E.A.M. policy is the status quo?  (Big ups to my friend Brandt for the bunker find…  Actually, since we’re linking to Twitter, I might as well divulge that my college pet, a rabbit called Sanchez, now has his own Twitter account, complete with 7 followers.  He lives in D.C. and beat me to Twitter.  Apparently he’s a techie but still chews on electrical cords.  We of the Sanchez clan have always been enigmas).

7. Take a trip with the ghosts of Judas past.  Peep this picture.  Can you remember which footballing traitor was the target of this pig’s head and soooo much hatred?  Fans bringing livestock to matches might be my favorite part about our sport.  Honorable mentions go to the French smuggling roosters into like, every game and some Africans and their goats.  And Van Nistelrooy.

8.  Rank the greatest “Dirks” throughout history.  I’ll give you my top three.  Dirk Nowitzki has be King of the Dirks at the moment, finally getting his NBA ring.  But more so because Americans finally have a German superhero that isn’t terrifying and totalitarian.  Coming in second is Mr. Dirk Diggler– “do you think the bass is taking away from the vocals?”  And I’ve got a dead tie for third place between the A-Team’s Dirk Benedict (Faceman) and Liverpool’s Dirk Kuyt (most definitely not-a-faceman).

9.  Actually read ESPN Soccernet’s transfer blog.  It’s updated minutely and it’s absurd.  Silly season is bad enough with a consistency of more credible rumors, but some of these are borderline childish.  Here are some of the names highlighted on today’s page right now: Guti, Nuno Gomes, Andreas Granqvist, Mateja Kezman.  I need to hear about those players like I need to hear about you and your fiance’s recent trip to wine country.  If you’re bold (and immune to Twitter haters) go ahead and venture some guesses about where the popular kids are going.  Sanchez to City?  Rossi to Barcelona?  Fabregas to stay?  Modric to United?  Mata to Liverpool?  Hiddink to Chelsea?  Or if you don’t want to name names, better yet…

10.  Explain why there aren’t more “proxy” transfers today.  Let’s say Real Madrid wanted to buy Messi, and Leo himself wanted the move, but there’s no way in hell Barca would ever make that sale, no matter how unhappy Messi told Barca he was there.  So Madrid grab QPR, front them the £110m or whatever it would cost for Barca to sell, then throw in an extra £5m just for QPR.  Barca are (reluctant, but) willing to sell their wantaway star to a non-rival club, then immediately (as per their agreement), QPR sells him straight to Real Madrid.  Boom.  Madrid get their guy, and QPR makes a nice profit and some major press.  Are Madrid and QPR being tricksy little Hobbits?  Absolutely.  But is this proxy deal legal?  I think so.  Here’s what I’ve found in the FIFA rules and regulations:

Players may be registered with a maximum of three clubs during
one season. During this period, the player is only eligible to play
official matches for two clubs. As an exception to this rule, a player
moving between two clubs belonging to associations with overlapping
seasons (i.e. start of the season in summer/autumn as opposed to
winter/spring) may be eligible to play in official matches for a third
club during the relevant season, provided he has fully complied with
his contractual obligations towards his previous clubs. Equally, the
provisions relating to the registration periods (article 6) as well as to the
minimum length of a contract (article 18 paragraph 2) must be respected.

So, as long as Messi didn’t play an official match for QPR, it would work out.  Surely there are plenty of small clubs that need all the money they can get, that they would be willing to serve as a go-between for big clubs?  So why aren’t we seeing proxies left and right?  Too much hassle?  Damage to a club’s reputation?  Individual league rules?  Potential for legal disaster and/or swindling?  All I know is that it ain’t for lack of money.  Oh no.

The transfer market is upon us and open for business.  So put that coffee down.  Coffee is for closers.

…But not about this.  Funny how him preparing to face Manchester United makes the main page, but the quiet closure of his Academies goes unreported for two months.  It was only a couple years ago when I couldn’t turn on Fox Soccer without a bombardment of Beckham settling into his Los Angeles niche.  Now, nothing.  Only a reluctant press statement via AEG and his website, AFTER local papers starting reporting the news.

Feel free to bookmark this as the first indicator of the decline of the “Beckham Brand.”  (Well, I can’t take total credit.  The Galaxy’s failure in the MLS Championship and Beckham’s affinity for jumping ship for Europe were probably the first.)  For the past five years or so, his deficiencies as a player have been more than compensated for by his global marketability.  At the time he was eyeballing his move to America, he could’ve sold a ketchup Popsicle to a woman in white gloves (Guti?).  Now his name can’t even keep afloat the one thing he was actually good at, promoting football.

Oh wait, there’s still his underwear modeling career.  The laws of professional sports state that a player can maintain his sex appeal for only 5 to 7 years after retiring, so live it up now, Dave.  Because no one wants to see Eric Cantona in his jockeys, and he can actually act.

Triple Threat? Player, Actor, Musician?

(I’d like to use this time to address 3 other Beckham Brand Fails we’ve witnessed in the last few years. 1.  Remember Beckham appearing in Goal: The Dream Begins and the subsequent sequels nobody is sure actually exist?  He had like one line, and he was really, really bad.  2.  No on watched Victoria’s “Moving to America” special or whatever it was called.  No one.  The highlight was her in an earthquake simulator.  Okay, so I guess I watched.  But I was the only one.  Check Perez Hilton or something if you want the actual viewing numbers.  3.  David Beckham making a cameo on Snoop Dogg’s ill fated show.  He taught Snoop and his kids how to take free kicks then went out to Roscoes with them.  I once thought it was impossible for anything Snoop was a part of to seem awkward and dorky, but thanks Becks for making soccer look like just that to whatever Americans caught that episode.)

I may look like a genius for featuring a picture of Beckham in my last post, days before the news of his closing Academies, but I assure you I am not.  Just Google image search “decline of Serie A” and see for yourself.

Not anymore!  Check out number 15 for New Mexico, Elizabeth Lambert,  in this playoff match versus BYU.  That is one serious mentalist.  Of course, I’d probably be pretty angry too if I grew up in Lancaster.

I don’t know if Marco Materazzi is single, but we may have found his soulmate.

Image via Gambling911

I remained conspicuously silent after the United States upset Spain in the Confederations Cup semis, then lost a heart breaker to Brazil in the finals.  I sat back, admittedly smirking while the talking heads on ‘Around the Horn,’  ‘Pardon the Interruption,’ and the like jumped on and off the US Soccer bandwagon.  I listened while people whom I’ve never heard speak of the sport weighed in with their opinions of the American performances and chances for World Cup 2010.  And I waited to write about the team until the conclusion of the Gold Cup, so I could establish a more balanced, detached perspective.  But seeing as the squad Bob Bradley has selected to wear the red, white, and blue for the GC is hardly the same one which will return to South Africa, now is as good a time as any to revisit the US National Team, warts and all.

Read the rest of this entry »

Image via Crown Publishers

Some juicy details about the Galaxy’s failed Beckham Experiement will soon be revealed in Grant Wahl’s upcoming book (pictured above).  It’s hard not to respect Landon Donovan and Alexi Lalas a little more after hearing about the sordid affair which saw Becks come and go like Sunday morning.  Sports Illustrated has released lengthy excerpts, which you can read in full after the jump

…..

Read the rest of this entry »

Image via Channel4

A brace from Giuseppe Rossi and an inspired second half display from the Azzurri earned them three points in their Confederations Cup opener against the United States.  Landon Donovan put the Americans ahead in the 39′ with a penalty, but the 10 men in white crumbled under Italian pressure after the break.  Rossi 58′ sparked life into his side with a deep wonder strike and Daniele De Rossi notched the winner in similar fashion 71.’  Rossi notched the third goal, his second, by volleying home a Pirlo chip in injury time.

…..

…The first half was largely a boring affair.  Both teams lacked any creativity and only sought to attack on counter movements.  It felt as thrilling as watching a chess match in the mirror.  What a difference from the free flowing passing of Spain yesterday.  Both sides look incapable of creating their own space, content to rely on the gaps that materialize from disrupting the other team’s ‘attack.’  The sending-off of Ricardo Clark 32′ and Donovan’s penalty shortly after helped poise the second half for more action…

…What percentage of Donovan’s goals do you think are penalties? Fifty?…

…If Italy wish to be genuine contenders in next year’s World Cup, Lippi must recognize that youth is the way forward.  The ‘experienced’ side he started with today might achieve some effectiveness at neutralizing highly dangerous attacking teams, but it’s simply no good against countries that are clearly inferior to the quality of the Italians, or teams that also rely on counterattacking football.  The United States side today could be described as both.  Gattuso, Camoranesi, and even Pirlo shouldn’t be starting in these situations.  Look at the way aged Serie A clubs have fared lately.  I’ve long been a proponent of the Roma midfield trio of De Rossi, Aquilani, and Perrotta; and certainly Montolivo and Rossi ought to be included in such considerations.  It was the latter duo’s introduction that galvanized Italy today and created spacing that allowed Pirlo to operate .  But De Rossi can do everything Pirlo does and more.  It’s up to Lippi to trust his youngsters and maximize for 90 minutes the talents of his 11 players on the pitch…

…Get up, Luca Toni…

…How cruel is fate, having New Jersey born Rossi stick the dagger into the United States?  If you want a sign US Football is still miles, excuse me, kilometers behind the Europe and the rest of the world, look no further.  Listen to him, the guy speaks Italian with an American accent and yet the US still let him get away.  Where was the national hierarchy when he was in high school in Jersey?…

…Sacha Kljestan should be the first name on the team-sheet for Bob Bradley.  If only Kljestan had been born in his family…

…..

It’d be easy to take the 3-1 scoreline and spin it positively for either side, but the truth is that both teams left much to be desired.  Italy failed to create anything meaningful until the youthful substitutions, and even then they needed an American mistake on the ball to grant Rossi a scoring opportunity.  Lippi doesn’t seem to have discovered his best 11 players, preferring to trust experience over dynamism.  How costly could that prove to be in important matches to come?

By the same token, Bradly doesn’t exactly instill confidence with his selections and tactics.  His dilemma is more due to a shortage of established players than the abundance of quality at Lippi’s disposal, but he does himself no favors with his resources.  His son Michael is no creator in the center of the pitch, although he can contribute with his tackling and work ethic.  Kljestan, not Bradley, must be given the reins of the team as the attacking central midfielder.  And it’s wrong to assume that Altidore is a battering ram striker because of his physique; he’s not, and it’s a waste of his skills to boot long clearances towards him, hoping he’ll make something out of nothing.  The counterattacking is fine, and perhaps the United States’ best chance of competing with better teams, but employing the trickery of Kljestan and Donovan would help Altidore become a more legitimate scoring threat.