By Wayne William Cipriano
I was watching professional soccer on television because my favorite team (whoever is playing Dallas) wasn’t playing.
I guess you would tell me it is an acquired taste, and I tried to get into the groove. But, geez, I watched as a game (match?) was played on a field (pitch?) that was three miles long and one mile wide and went on for seven hours. And then, since all the players were so tired from all that running around that none could kick a ball through a goal that is 50-yards wide and guarded by just one guy, the whole thing was decided by a “free kick”.
A free kick is when one guy pretends he is going to kick the ball to the right to fake out the guy trying to block that kick, kicks it to the left. Very complicated strategy. If the ball goes into the goal, the kicker’s team wins the seven-hour endurance contest. If the ball is blocked, the other team wins.
Imagine playing that hard and that long just to win or lose that way.
The winners are so tired when it is finally over they trudge to the locker room with barely noticeable satisfaction.
The losers wait out in the parking lot for the guy who missed the kick or missed the block and beat the stuffing out of him. And, they don’t even show that on television.
No big hits. No concussions. No broken bones. No cheerleaders. What is the point of a sport where even the most rabid fan always comments on the rate at which the grass grew during the game (watch)?