United We Stand

While the content (and timbre) of this blog may recently have skewed toward politically indignant and/or disparagingly unemployed, it's perhaps worth noting that not everything in my life is as dark, dramatic or depressing. Having abundant free time in a new town does offer a variety of new opportunities and experiences, and while it may not be fiscally responsible to indulge in such chicanery often, one must be allowed to live a little even amidst a career transition.

Coming to DC in the summer affords ample outlets for such revelry, and while the more obscure (and gratuitous) tend to be most up-my-alley, The District also offers other experiences which are equally worth their down payment. For example:

As I have alluded to in an earlier post, professional sports were not a prominent part of my childhood. Oklahoma is a hard part of the country to characterize - neither "Western," (CA, NV) "Southern," (GA, AL) "Mid-Western" (OH, IL) nor "Southwestern" (AZ, NM) - it is an equally nebulous zone of professional sport affiliation. For Football, we tended to go Cowboys, mostly because Dallas was 'a mere' 5 hours away, and because the only other professional franchise city within a comparable distance - Kansas City - was universally bad at every sport. Our other pro sport affiliations were most commonly based on who had the coolest uniforms, particular marquee players (seriously, who hates air Jordan?), or the teams with which we had the most success on various NES video games (how else could I be a Blackhawks fan?).

While these connections made the respective sport more interesting to watch, loyalty was not guaranteed - even over the course of a season. As long as one was willing to brave the initial heckling any self-respecting brother would pile on in the event of an about-face, one's "favorite team" could change as often as one's favorite sugar-coated breakfast cereal.

All of this goes a long way to say just this: home-town fandom - the kind you cannot escape on the bad years except by playing ostrich, but which tastes all the sweeter if/when it eventually pays out - was really not something I had experienced, or even witnessed, growing up.

In moving to San Antonio for college, I unwittingly entered a city with not only a professional sports team, but exactly one sports team on which the populace can focus their enthusiasm. It being a boon era in Spurs history didn't hurt. Every spring, Go Spurs Go was painted on major buildings, across car bumpers, and splashed on solid-color T-shirts throughout town. This was fandom. This was home-town proud.

After graduation, when I really became a San Antonio resident for the first time, I began to slowly partake in the festival, but there was one problem - I don't like basketball. It's OK to play, but as a spectator sport, I just check out. Sacrilege in SpursAntonio.

The move to NY cleansed the stigma to an extent - the fact that I didn't care about the Knicks was in no way abnormal for a New Yorker. Yankees, Mets, Giants, Jets - it was all too much to choose from, too much effort to follow.

But DC offers the middle-ground - a buffet of clear options in the sport of one's choosing (sorry, Hockey). Redskins, Nationals, Wizards, Capitals... and DC United.

One of my brothers lives in London, and over several years has developed a true obsession with Chelsea FC in the best traditions of English Premier League football. While the remarkable success Chelsea has enjoyed in recent years is certainly enviable, what I noticed most in visiting them is that clarity of purpose that comes with choosing a team to support and committing to the roller-coaster such fandom elicits. Good games and bad, horrible calls and well-earned cards, coaching changes and player trades - these are all followed in rabid detail, but ultimately do not matter. For they are supporting Chelsea Blue. More than a collection of talented athletes and matching equipment, it is a tradition - in the technical sense of unofficial transfer of practices and customs among those with a shared heritage. In this case, that means certain fight songs, jersey designs and scarves among those willing to associate around a football club.

This to me was alluring, and I began investigating my options in my most recently-adopted "hometown." The Wizards were out for the same reason as the much more venerable Spurs, and while the Nationals have all the down-and-out underdog charm I crave, baseball's frenetic schedule (and general Yanks-BoSox domination) does little to entice. The Redskins - with recently acquired Donovan McNabb and practical franchise-founder Clinton Portis - offer a real possibility, but the point of having a home team is that you have the chance to actually see them play in person. With 'cheap seats' starting at $45, and those not always available, I'll be cheering against the rest of the NFC East from my sofa.

That leaves Major League Soccer's DC United. League champions in the inaugural '96 season, with follow-up trophies in 1997, 1999, and 2004, they even have some international success. In short, the Red-and-Black have as long and as proud a heritage as possible State-side. But recent seasons have been less glamorous, and 2010 is rapidly approaching abhorrent. As of Aug 19, they were 3-14-3 (W-L-T), at the bottom of not only their division, but indeed the worst record in all of MLS. The LA Galaxy lead the league with 43 pts; DC United has 12. Their goal differential is an astounding -20 in a sport that is notoriously low-scoring. Last week they fired their head coach, and rather than bothering to find a replacement, promoted a recently-retired former player, Ben Olsen, into the job as an interim to end the season. If Disney were going to make a plucky underdog movie about MLS, United would be their humorously inept protagonist.

I of course am thrilled at the chance to get in my 'hard knocks' years right off the bat, and have taken to learning the lineup with aplomb. Not only do they sport a clever looking kit - black or white with red accents and a strong VW logo mid-chest, game-day seats cost only $23. Playing in the colossal (by soccer standard) 45,000 seat RFK Stadium, former home of the Redskins and the much-maligned Senators, there is hardly a bad seat since it rarely reaches 20% capacity.

Since moving to DC in June, I've been watching and waiting for the ideal chance to watch a game live. Several of my new DC friends are general soccer fans, if not necessarily United supporters, but differing schedules had precluded an outing. Fortuitously, this all changed on August 22, when my friend Michael and I eased into our chairs 8 rows behind the corner flag in the 1/3 full Section 115. The main supporter groups - La Barra Brava and the Screaming Eagles - were situated across the field from us, but we were not without our share of large drums and avid fans. One fellow who kept trying to entice the crowd into song wore black and red face paint and jersey 66 - "Darth Hooligan" - written on the back.

The match of the day was against DC's closest rival - the Philadelphia Union (full match recap here). Not only is "Pee-You" the physically closest team to DC in MLS, they also happen to be the newest (first game in March 2010) and now the second-worst team (behind you-know-who) with a record of 4-10-5. In the two team's only prior meeting, Philly's debut home-opener on April 10, Union defeated United 3-2. Still, if DC had any hope of ending its 5-game MLS losing streak, the Philly youngsters represented their best chance.

Philly's attack focused almost entirely on the French magician (and former Seattle Sounder) in purple shoes, Sebastien Le Toux (who Does sound like a Disney villain). In response, DC boasted a more rounded squad, with a talented young goal keeper - Bill Hamid - who came up through United's U-18 academy, as well as "senior" players like Danny Allsopp, Santino Quaranta, and the highly-decorated Jaime Moreno.

In addition to the Navy-and-Gold and Red-and-Black on the field, nature provided a 'third force' to the unfolding events on the pitch. At the 30' mark, a sudden downpour rolled over RFK stadium, and while the crowd quickly retracted into the (entirely open) covered seats in the second sections, on the field play continued.

United opened the game by marching straight down field and taking an early, if not especially impressive, shot on goal. It was surprisingly authoritative from a team with a brand new coach, and not at all as desperate as the nothing-to-lose record might suggest. Most of the half featured DC making strong attacks from the midfield, with only a few crosses, and no less than 4 shots on goal. The 0-0 deadlock was nearly broken in the 7th minute when Le Toux drilled a shot from close range, but Hamid's fingers held strong. In minute 22, a nice cross from Andy Najar, combined with an awkward defensive move by Philly, put the ball at Allsopp's feet not 10' from the goal. The finish was fine, and DC went up 1-0.

The action continued without the water seeming to make much difference, but the remainder of the half was a dead-lock possession game. The second half was much drier, but the pattern essentially the same. In the 62nd minute, another Philly snafu in midfield gave DC a 3-4 break, and they took full advantage. Najar's beautiful cross at the top of the box was even more beautifully stepped over by another DC striker before coming awkwardly to Allsopp's outside left. The control, precision, and speed of the resulting contact was incredible, and the giant United victory flag made a second lap around the field.

DC controlled possession in the remaining minutes, but never gave up its relentless attack. Another amazing airborne effort was called offsides, and the game ended in an ebullient win for DC, their 4th league win all season.

In all, the game doesn't mean much in the grand order of things. With only 9 games left in the season, only Disney could dream up a United comeback. The giant they slew was no Goliath, but the goals made were done with skill and authority. Defense was strong - or at least stronger than the error-prone Union - and importantly it marked a turnaround, however brief, from the previous coach Onalfo's backslide. As the game-day program admitted, "playoff hopes seem distant for both teams..." I believe the correct term is "mathematically impossible."

Still, you've got to root for the home team, for if they don't win it's a shame.

Cause it's One- Two- Three Goals, you're out in this 'ole ball game.

Weber

::(lame)Texpatriot