Sounders game last night with fam. US soccer has a long way to go to be on par with the rest of the world, and yes I feel comfortable enough in my expertise to say that. It turns out that the more you tune in for drooling purposes, the more actual soccer knowledge you absorb by osmosis. Please do not hold me accountable on trivia night.
I couldn’t stop thinking about all of the drama that goes in to getting a foul called. These strong, suave-looking men fall to the ground in faux agony about once every five minutes. One player last night lay writhing for five minutes, shoe laying beside him, head in his hands, calling for the stretcher. Of course when the stretcher came he rethought having to permanently leave the game and jumped up as if having risen from a nap. Pardon? I can’t imagine what it would be like to date these guys… Arguments would escalate to world ending break ups, ordering chinese food- a serious conversation. Choosing a movie at blackbuster- EPIC battle. They would cry twice as much as you do, probably say things they don’t mean, and then act like nothing happened afterwards. And women would still oggle them with comletely disregard for the lack of maturity actually required to sustainable relationship. Well… There you have it. My dream of eloping with a professional soccer player shattered by a half-shoeless member of the New England Revolution on a Thursday night.
Oh cruel world.
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