Has It Been a Year Already?

This blog had its first birthday a week ago last Saturday. I hope you've enjoyed reading and found at least some posts of interest along the way.

Sometimes I feel I'm still trying to find my "voice" here, other times I've hit on something that is exactly what I hoped to do  (particularly the posts about Dick Winters and Jim Tracy). And I think my love of coaching and soccer came through in the two posts linked in this sentence. Please, let me know what you like and don't like, what you'd like to see more of or less of, as we head into our second season.

Here are some follow-up bits (in no particular order) to a few of this last year's posts that you might find interesting:

Rovers survived the drop, winning on the final day of the season to cement their place in the Premier League for another year. You can read about the final match here. Oh, and both West Ham and Birmingham were relegated (pity).



The Red Rose of Lancaster on Rovers' badge



FIFA President Sepp Blatter, facing opposition in his reelection bid, has promised to have an "investigation" of or "discussion" with a former employee of Qatar's successful World Cup 2022 bid who has claimed to know of at least two FIFA executive committee members who were paid $1.5 million bribes for their pro-Qatar votes. Say it ain't so Sepp! Apparently Blatter does not perceive a distinction between a discussion and an investigation . . .

The New York Times ran an fascinating article on the genius of Lionel Messi this past Sunday. Check out the piece, then watch Messi and his Barca pals take on Manchester United this Saturday in the UEFA Champions' League Final at Wembley.



Messi airborne against Real Madrid


Bob Bradley announced the U.S. roster for the Gold Cup this summer. Jermaine Jones was named in the squad, but not Teal Bunbury.

Finally, Champion (a sporting goods company) cancelled Rashard Mendenhall's endorsement contract with them because of his Bin Laden tweet. In a statement announcing the decision, Champion concluded that it did not believe that Mendenhall could "appropriately represent Champion" due to some of the comments in the tweet. The free speech advocate in me has no problem with Champion deciding it doesn't want to pay Mendenhall endorse its products. The lawyer in me, though, wonders what the contract language was that Champion relied on in making the decision and whether it was a "morals" clause or if Champion just had the unilateral right to cancel for any reason it deemed appropriate.

The Other Major Fringe Sport

The Red Wings are gone, but my illicit affair with hockey continues.

I admit that I am at best a casual hockey fan these days. During the regular season, I don't go looking for televised games (mostly because I rarely surf past "Versus") and even if I find a game I don't watch unless my Red Wings happen to be playing.

While I grew up in Michigan, I never was a hockey player. I can't skate worth a darn, which is a major drawback. My brother and some friends would occasionally push a ball or puck (I think we had a few at some point) along a frozen pond, but not much more.

Still, I was a hockey fan, and particularly a Red Wings fan. I would watch the grainy"Hockey Night in Canada" coverage courtesy of CKLW in Windsor and follow the results in the sports section. Gordie Howe was still a Red Wing and Alex Delvecchio was my hockey hero (along with non-Wings Bobby Hull and Bobby Orr). Those Wings weren't particularly good (I can remember only one, brief, playoff appearance in the early to mid-'70's), but they were still my team.

Much to my delight, the Wings have become the New York Yankees of the NHL over the last decade and a half, winning four of the last 15 Stanley Cups, most recently in 2008. Through shrewd drafting and splashy (for hockey) free agent signings, they have built as close to a dynasty as you can get in hockey, where few players stay with one team for more than a few seasons.

These days I don't pay much attention to professional hockey until the playoffs start, or it's the Winter Olympics. But I should. Hockey is good television sport (better, at least, than the favorite sport of my youth, baseball) and a fantastic sport to watch in person. It has its own unique sounds (smacking sticks on the ice to call for a puck; dueling sticks digging in the corner for a puck; the "PING!" of the puck hitting the post or crossbar), its own lexicon (grinder; goon; blocker; butterfly -- and that's only two of 26 letters . . . ) and its own smells (sweaty gloves and rotting octopi).

Best of all, it is a team sport where doing the "little things" matters to whether a team will win or not. Sure, there are glamour players today as there were 30 years ago, but having one, or even several, doesn't guarantee success. Even the Edmonton Oilers of Wayne Gretzky needed defensemen, defensive forwards, and a great goaltender to be a great team. In contrast to the NBA, where a coach can be criticized for benching a "superstar" even when his team wins, on the road, in the conference finals, the NHL is all about team, not player.

More than any sport other than perhaps lacrosse, hockey also reminds me of soccer in that spacing between players, and being able to take advantage of the space, is crucial to a good offense just as closing down that space and cutting off passing lanes is crucial to a good defense. That and, for one game and even an entire playoff series, the more talented team doesn't always win. The roll of the puck, the hot goaltender, the fringe player who somehow finds himself scoring a hat trick, are all variables that can affect a game or series.

So, go ahead, watch Labron and Dwyane and Dirk and Kobe (heh, heh, okay, not Kobe) in the next few weeks. But take some time to watch Martin and Tim and Joe too. I guarantee you'll learn more about teamwork and the importance of team, not to mention good fortune, watching that puck skitter across the ice.

Patriotic Correctness Run Amok

One of the Cardinal Rules of Blogging, I was told, is that you should never, ever blog about politics (unless, of course, it's a political blog) or religion (unless, of course, it's a religious blog), lest you risk offending portions of your audience.

It appears that I am about to kill two cardinals with one stone.

The self-righteous outrage over Rashard Mendenhall's reaction to the celebrations of Osama Bin Laden's death has pushed me over the edge.

According to ESPN, Mendenhall tweeted (in part) shortly after news of Bin Laden's death was announced: "What kind of person celebrates death? It's amazing how people can HATE a man they have never even heard speak. We've only heard one side... I believe in God. I believe we're ALL his children. And I believe HE is the ONE and ONLY judge. Those who judge others, will also be judged themselves. For those of you who said you want to see Bin Laden burn ... I ask how would God feel about your heart?"

Mendenhall's tweets set off a storm of controversy that ultimately led the Steelers' team President Art Rooney II (the son of Dan Rooney, former Steelers' President, noted Democratic benefactor, and now Ambassador to Ireland) to issue the following statement: "I have not spoken with Rashard, so it is hard to explain or even comprehend what he meant with his recent Twitter comments. The entire Steelers organization is very proud of the job our military personnel have done and we can only hope this leads to our troops coming home soon."

I do not agree with all of Mendenhall's thoughts (particularly the "we'll never know what really happened" comment about the World Trade Center attacks), but it isn't very difficult to "explain or even comprehend what he meant" by most of his tweet. He was disturbed by the jingoistic bacchanalia related to news of Bin Laden's death.

In this day of Patriotic Correctness, however, freedom of expression is not a two-way street.

Nothing in Mendenhall's tweets, at least what I've read or seen, questioned our troops, the "job [they've] done," or whether he wants our troops to come home (as one can assume from the context he does). His target was the revelers, not the cause of the revelry. And his religious references might just make one think he has a point, both about the celebration of another's demise as well as whether anyone should cast the first stone.

The reaction to Mendenhall's comments, particularly by the Steelers, called to my mind the incessant American flag lapel pin criticism of President Obama. The Patriotically Correct, you'll surely recall, highlighted then candidate Obama's failure to wear a flag lapel pin, fashionable since 9/11, as proof of his supposed unpatriotic/anti-American attitude. While he explained that he felt that the pin had become a "substitute for true patriotism," ultimately he succumbed to the political pressure and started wearing it again.

At least he wasn't popping out of a tank . . .

Sadly, Mendenhall seems to have caved in to the same sort of pressure, issuing a clarification of his tweets. There is nothing in the retweet that is radically different from the thoughts that Mendenhall expressed, although he felt obliged to make it clear that he is and was not a Bin Laden supporter.

More troubling to me than Mendenhall's tweet are the reactions by some members of the public, the media, and the Steelers to the comments. Or perhaps better put, the lack of reactions to those reactions.

We live in an age when we allow a vocal, strident minority to constantly evaluate and pass judgment on what is and is not patriotic behavior. The silent majority has grown weary of the constant sniping regarding flag and country and has decided, as I often have, that getting involved in the debate isn't worth the price (being called anti-American oneself, subjecting oneself to similar vitriol) to fight the good fight.

Enough is enough.

Evelyn Beatrice Hall paraphrased Voltaire's thoughts in the famous, succinct phrase: "I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it." In our age of Patriotic Correctness, we no longer risk death, or even character assassination, to defend the right to say what one thinks at the risk that it may be construed by some as unpatriotic. Instead, we stand silently by as a few who have wrapped themselves in the flag and assumed the mantle of arbiters of all that is or is not "American" decide how to attack the free speech of others.

Whether we should even care what a professional athlete thinks about politics or religion is, of course, a valid question (just as easily, whether anyone should care what a blogging lawyer/soccer coach thinks about anything is equally valid). But being concerned about the right to say something is very different than caring about what is said. The freedom of expression has been slowly chipped away at for 10 years, not by our government as was long ago feared, but rather by the tyranny of the minority, primarily and ironically through the vehicles of the media, blogging, and social media.

Rashard, keep on telling us how you feel. I wasn't listening before. But from now on I'll defend to the death your right to speak, and my right to listen to what you have to say.

There Is "No Need to Fail when Success is Offered Every Day"

I've been thinking a lot lately about the nature of sport -- why it still exists, why it has such an important place in some of our lives, and whether it should.

Not so much another boring history of sport or even a review of it -- the supposed links to warriors or skills that translate to prowess on the hunt or in the field. Not why people started competing. But why they still do.

Why does sport play such a vital role in our lives? Why does it seem more and more important to many at a time when, realistically, physical prowess is less and less important to survival as an individual and collectively to a people? Why do others ignore or barely tolerate or just plain don't "get" athletics and competition? And, finally, when all is said and done, could our time and energy be better spent on other pursuits than another practice or game?

This all started when I attended, to the bemusement of some of my friends, the Mountaineer Athletic Club dinner in Charleston this past week. The MAC raises money for scholarships for athletes in all of WVU's varsity sports. I was impressed by the coaches and athletes who spoke, not just because they were articulate in thanking the donors for the contributions that made their teams and their opportunities to compete possible, but because of the palpable impact that sports, and in particular the opportunity to be a member of a team, had made in their lives. But the skeptical part of me couldn't help but wonder if all that was money could be better spent on research projects, new classrooms, or visiting professorships than on athletics.

Later in the week a gentleman I met at the dinner introduced me, via email, to Jeff Usher. The similarities between Jeff's life and mine are eerily (and, truth be told, a little disappointingly) similar: Jeff is an employment lawyer, soccer coach, and author (well, he's really an author; so far my writing is confined to this blog and some articles, not an entire book). I hope to have the opportunity to talk to Jeff and exchange ideas with him about his approach to coaching and seeing how sport fits into his life.

The dinner and then reading about Jeff made me think more about why sport is still essential to our lives: that it connects us in a common purpose at a time when it is so easy to be a loner among friends, whether  it's pursuing personal goals (attending college, getting a promotion, buying a house, starting a family) or just simply living our day-to-day lives conversing with clients or customers we never meet or touching base with friends and colleagues through one less-than-personal method or the other. But, at the same time, it can also be divisive and even dangerous, particularly when it comes to fans (after all, the word is short for "fanatic").

My epiphany came when, by chance, I saw a piece on ESPN about Jim Tracy, a high school girls' cross-country coach in California. Both Tracy and his team (ironically enough, another University High School, this one in San Francisco) have faced and continue to face substantial, and ultimately insurmountable, challenges, but overcame them at least temporarily in some extraordinary ways.

The piece that ran on ESPN's Outside the Lines is below and remarkably well done, as well as being visually stunning.

Tracy and his team exemplify why competition is still so vital to our development individually and collectively and how sport can help us meet -- head on -- the challenges we will all face. The bond between teammates, and between coach and team, is something that cannot be taught in a classroom. It has to be experienced. While winning is obviously important to Tracy and his team (and they are very adept at it) competition, teamwork, and mutual support are lessons that he knows his players will take away from his program that will better allow both him and them to face the obstacles that they will encounter in life. It is truly the means, not the end, that is most important.

"I'm a person who sees no need to fail when success is offered everyday" Tracy says near the beginning of the story. We can take that comment quite literally: that Tracy, with his multiple state championships, tells his girls every year that they have the opportunity to win another and should expect to.

I suspect, however, that Tracy is referring to something much bigger than just a cross-country meet or even a state championship. Each of us has within us the means to accomplish great things and everyday has the opportunity to do exactly that. Sport still has the unique ability to teach us to discover that talent within ourselves, and then reveal the will to push it to its absolute limit. That is a lesson that is learned only by preparing to compete, and then by competing.

Support Your Local Soccer Team

Because the vast majority of U.S. soccer fans of my generation didn't grow up playing soccer, they chose the sport rather than the sport choosing them.

This is not always a good thing.

Much as the former two-pack-a-dayer becomes the most strident anti-smoking advocate, so too many converted American soccer fans become soccer snobs, insisting on only following the best of European or South American soccer and deriding the level of play in MLS, let alone that of the lower division leagues in the U.S., the United Soccer Leagues (USL) and Professional Development League (PDL).

No, the MLS is not the Premier League. But neither is the Scottish Premier League, or the Ukrainian Premier League, or even Ligue 1 (France's highest professional league).

At the end of every Mountain Stage, Larry Groce tells the audience to go out and listen to some live local music. He's not saying it will be as good as what you just heard on the show, but that's not important. What is important is the idea of local music, of supporting its existence and the people who are probably not even eking out a living performing it, but are doing it just the same and could use a little support while pursuing their dream.

The same goes for local soccer. Whether it's the Columbus Crew or the Portland Timbers or even D.C. United, MLS has to play an important part in the development and vitality of the game in America. U.S. soccer fans need to support MLS, through attendance or even just watching games on t.v., to increase the presence of the game in our national psyche, and especially its attractiveness as a marketing tool to potential advertisers.

Even more desperate for a little support are local soccer clubs. While the level of play isn't always great, the atmosphere and support of your team (even if it's your club only for that evening) is. Perhaps the two most enjoyable times I have ever spent at soccer matches were in York, England watching a pre-season match of what was then Third Division York City F.C. against Middlesborough and an overweight and fast deteriorating Paul Gascoigne, and in Charleston South Carolina watching the USL's Battery play at its wonderful Blackbaud Stadium.

Here in West-by-God Virginia's Charleston we have a PDL team, the Chaos. The PDL is, as its name indicates, a developmental league. Most of the players are local college players, looking for extra playing time in the summer and perhaps that "break" to move to the next level. The play is at the level of a good Division II college program.

No, you're not going to see Lionel Messi on the Schoenbaum Stadium pitch -- probably not the next Lionel Messi either. But there are few ways to spend more a pleasant evening than sitting in the stands, watching some local boys try to make good while the sun slides down the horizon behind the Appalachian Mountains leaving the sky streaked purple and pink.

So next time you find yourself at home on a Saturday or Sunday with nothing particular to do, go find a local game, drop a few bucks, and, as Larry Groce might say, watch some live local soccer wherever you may be.

The Drop

Every year around this time throughout Europe sportswriters and commentators and fans start talking about The Drop.  Relegation and promotion (or, I guess, promotion and relegation if your glass is half full) are features of almost every professional soccer league in the world not in the U.S. or Australia.

Rather ironic, since relegation is the most democratic, or Darwinian, of all sporting concepts. Each year in one or two or three of the clubs that finish in the bottom of the standings of a league will be relegated to the next division down, and the same number of clubs will be promoted, either by virtue of their finish in their league during the regular season or by a playoff, to the next higher division. So while clubs in, say, China will (theoretically) rise or fall each year on their own merits, those in the U.S. are among the few that are always safely ensconced in the highest professional division of the sport.

Because of the way professional sports teams developed in the United States, with a small number of clubs owned usually by one individual or entity, promotion and relegation never took hold here. In Europe, however, with its thousands of soccer teams and stronger local and regional ties, it was a natural development.

In recent years, the relegation battle, at least in England, is much more interesting than the fight for the championship of the Premier League. While the same two or three teams fight it out for the crown every year, several more are sucked into the abyss that is the desperate attempt to avoid the drop.

This year the races to the championship and to relegation are both shaping up to be interesting, thanks to the lack of a dominating club at the top and many middling to miserable ones at the other end of the spectrum. But while one of the usual suspects (either Man United or Arsenal) are likely to win the crown, nine or ten clubs, within six points of each other, are capable of playing badly enough over the last eight or nine matches of the season to warrant relegation.

Unfortunately for me and other Blackburn fans, one of those clubs that could face The Drop is the Rovers.  In the top ten and looking good just a few weeks ago, Rovers have managed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, or at least a draw, on several occasions recently, including two weeks ago when they conceded a penalty in the last minute to lose 3-2 to Fulham, and last week when they had to come from two goals down at home to register a draw with Blackpool. Speculation has gone from wondering whether the club will be able to challenge for a Europa League spot to whether they will be playing in the Premier League next season.

I have to admit, though, that whether it's the glass-half-empty Rover fan, the masochist, or the republican (yes, little "r" republican) in me, I relish the fight to dodge The Drop. Nothing more energizes a fan base than supporting your club to survive to fight another day. And, I have to admit, I always relish the opportunity to chirp when a "Big Club" (like Newcastle two seasons ago) goes down.

How cool would it be to get to see an American pro team (insert team name here -- mine would be the Cowboys or the Yankees) struggle to maintain top flight status? Can you imagine the glee if Jerry Jones was faced with the prospect of a half-filled billion dollar stadium while his Cowboys play some semi-pro team from Waco?

I'll be there on Saturday morning, biting my nails and hoping the Rovers can pick up three or even one point against Arsenal (yeah, right) that would go a long way to avoiding The Drop. But I'll be pulling just as hard for West Ham and Birmingham (two self-proclaimed "Big Clubs") to lose and sink a little farther toward oblivion. What could be more American?

Mes Que Un Club

While I may live or die with every Blackburn Rovers' win or loss (and there have been more of the latter than the former lately), I have to admit that Rovers are not my absolute favorite team to watch. That distinction rests with F.C. Barcelona.

Mes Que Un Club ("More than a Club") is the motto of Barcelona. It refers to the fact that the club is much more than simply a soccer club. And while the club also has basketball, handball, hockey, and futsal teams, it refers to much more than that as well.

Barcelona is the team of Catalonia, a region of Spain that has at various times in its history enjoyed cultural and political autonomy or oppression courtesy of its various rulers, most recently Spain. During Franco's rule, the Catalans in general and Barça in particular were singled out for punishment as a culture and institution that were anathema to The Generalissimo's idea of a unified Spain. 

Catalans were prohibited from speaking their language and Franco installed a series of handpicked toadies as Barça's president after his militia executed its duly elected president in 1936. Real Madrid's status as Franco's club and Barça's as the club of the Republicans have always been reason enough for me to root for Barcelona and despise Real (and that was before Real bought Cristiano Ronaldo). Even today, the colors of the Catalan flag appear on Barça's badge, shirts, and its captain's armband.

While there are political and cultural reasons why I began supporting Barça, there is a simpler reason I prefer to watch them over any other team, even Rovers: they play the most dazzling soccer on the planet.

Barcelona plays the game the way I think it ought to be played. Pinging passes around the pitch, probing for openings, dominating possession, looking for that little window or slight angle that provides the killer through ball. With plenty of determination and grit, but no cynicism. They have two of the best center midfielders in the world (Xavi and Iniesta) to run the show, one of the best forwards, David (that's "Dah-veed") Villa to score goals, and the best player in the universe, Lionel Messi, to provide the magic.

And here's the kicker, at least for me: all four are under 5'10" tall. Villa, at a listed 5'9", is the "giant" of the bunch. Xavi, Iniesta, and Messi are all purported to be around 5'7", although I'm skeptical of even that measurement. 

As a vertically challenged individual, and perhaps more importantly, the father of two vertically challenged (former) high school athletes, I've always been sensitive to coaches or organizations that are quick to dismiss someone just because of their height. That certainly didn't happen to these four -- instead, they comprise the most lethal soccer attack in the world. How cool is that?

I watched Barça dismantle Arsenal in the Champion's League Tuesday and came away with one thought: everyone who thinks soccer is boring needs to watch this match. While Arsenal are generally a team that like to possess the ball (before and after the first leg of this two-match contest they were often referred to as "Barça Lite") they saw virtually none of in the match, reduced to desperate defending and great goal keeping to keep the score close. 95,000 fans cheered every pass, and Messi scored a goal that only Messi could score. 

So, for all of you out there who still think soccer is boring, here's a little (pun intended) Messi for you. And I'll be happy to loan you my dvd of the entire match if you'd like. Seriously. Just remember to give it back. They're more than just a club you know.