Global Supporter Update
The endless bullshit that is the World Cup reaffirms my contention that soccer blows.
The dynamics of the game are fundamentally absurd. The ball is slightly larger than your head; the net is about the size of a semi; the field is massive; and, relatively few players have to cover quite a lot of ground. Given these comically enormous disparities, a reasonable person would assume that a team ought to shoot the ball on goal as many times as possible, and at a relentless pace at that. Instead, soccer consists of a bunch of aimless running around, punctuated by two handfuls of shots, and perhaps a couple of goals.
I've watched three World Cup games so far, and here's what I've seen: They kick the ball around for a while, then it goes out of bounds, then they catch their breath, then they kick the ball around some more, then one of them grabs their groin, then they catch their breath again, then they kick it around for a while, then it goes out of bounds again, then they catch their breath again, and so on and so forth. After about twenty minutes of nothing, one of the teams might manage a single shot on goal, at which point the announcers and spectators whip themselves into a confounding frenzy, regardless of whether or not the ball actually made it into the goal. If a team does manage to score, say, two goals, fans and journalists are quick to label the match with all this sanctimonious language, including words like "brilliant" and "miraculous."
Let's get one thing straight here: Soccer goals have nothing to do with planning and strategy. One guy is simply faster or less tired than the other guy, and, as I mentioned earlier, the goal is 1/1,000th the size of the ball. That being said, I don't think it's ridiculous to stop short of comparing scoring a goal in soccer to turning water into wine.
There's no big mystery as to why soccer does such a horrible job of captivating Americans past their tenth birthday: Soccer moms. For moms of young children, soccer is a great game. The kids run around aimlessly for an hour, which provides moms with a chance to gossip with other moms. Also, when the game is over, and the kids ask if they played well, the mom can say that the kid did indeed play well, even if he or she didn't, because it's not like anything happened, and it's not like the moms were paying attention anyway.
At roughly the age of ten, kids experience a sudden rise in their dexterity and, subsequently, dads become more interested in their kids' sporting abilities. Suddenly, games invovling running AND doing something pique the interest of both father and child. At this point, the soccer ball is invariably abandoned for a basketball, a football, and/or a mitt and bat. Soccer moms, once gleefully unaware, slowly realize how little they know about, nay, how little they actually enjoy watching their kids play sports. Basketball, baseball and football require an understanding of complex rules (don't use your hands, don't kick it out of bounds, don't knock anyone over--pshaw!), which most moms just can't bother to learn.
I'm not saying you're a bad person if you like soccer. I'm just saying that you like something that is completely boring.
And, if you think all these anti-soccer sentiments make me sound like a typical American ignoramus, then call me Clark Griswold and go fuck yourself.
The dynamics of the game are fundamentally absurd. The ball is slightly larger than your head; the net is about the size of a semi; the field is massive; and, relatively few players have to cover quite a lot of ground. Given these comically enormous disparities, a reasonable person would assume that a team ought to shoot the ball on goal as many times as possible, and at a relentless pace at that. Instead, soccer consists of a bunch of aimless running around, punctuated by two handfuls of shots, and perhaps a couple of goals.
I've watched three World Cup games so far, and here's what I've seen: They kick the ball around for a while, then it goes out of bounds, then they catch their breath, then they kick the ball around some more, then one of them grabs their groin, then they catch their breath again, then they kick it around for a while, then it goes out of bounds again, then they catch their breath again, and so on and so forth. After about twenty minutes of nothing, one of the teams might manage a single shot on goal, at which point the announcers and spectators whip themselves into a confounding frenzy, regardless of whether or not the ball actually made it into the goal. If a team does manage to score, say, two goals, fans and journalists are quick to label the match with all this sanctimonious language, including words like "brilliant" and "miraculous."
Let's get one thing straight here: Soccer goals have nothing to do with planning and strategy. One guy is simply faster or less tired than the other guy, and, as I mentioned earlier, the goal is 1/1,000th the size of the ball. That being said, I don't think it's ridiculous to stop short of comparing scoring a goal in soccer to turning water into wine.
There's no big mystery as to why soccer does such a horrible job of captivating Americans past their tenth birthday: Soccer moms. For moms of young children, soccer is a great game. The kids run around aimlessly for an hour, which provides moms with a chance to gossip with other moms. Also, when the game is over, and the kids ask if they played well, the mom can say that the kid did indeed play well, even if he or she didn't, because it's not like anything happened, and it's not like the moms were paying attention anyway.
At roughly the age of ten, kids experience a sudden rise in their dexterity and, subsequently, dads become more interested in their kids' sporting abilities. Suddenly, games invovling running AND doing something pique the interest of both father and child. At this point, the soccer ball is invariably abandoned for a basketball, a football, and/or a mitt and bat. Soccer moms, once gleefully unaware, slowly realize how little they know about, nay, how little they actually enjoy watching their kids play sports. Basketball, baseball and football require an understanding of complex rules (don't use your hands, don't kick it out of bounds, don't knock anyone over--pshaw!), which most moms just can't bother to learn.
I'm not saying you're a bad person if you like soccer. I'm just saying that you like something that is completely boring.
And, if you think all these anti-soccer sentiments make me sound like a typical American ignoramus, then call me Clark Griswold and go fuck yourself.
posted by Pat at 12:45 AM
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