As noted earlier, these posts are mere overviews of my personal experiences back on the playing field. If you care nothing about my stories feel free to skip this to the good stuff. (Assuming you are reading this blog because you enjoy it and not because I make you) Let's proceed shall we...
This past weekend I reffed my first two games that were not of an intramural nature since I was 16. Saturday was a U-10 YMCA game that was absolutely adorable. I really feel ashamed to even call it reffing because I arrived at the field and the two teams were warming up together. Not exactly a hostile environment. I spent most of my time running around coaching and making sure the kids didn't cry. Not bad for 24 bucks and an hours worth of babysitting.
On Sunday I was welcomed back to the harsh reality of reffing soccer. That being, most people you work with are complete... uneducated people, to put it diplomatically. We ended up working a two man crew in which I was on the Assistant Referee and my partner was the Center Referee. It was a U-12 Boys game and was destined to be a blowout from the start since one team had no subs on a 98 degree day. Instead of coaxing the game along and getting out of there no harm done, my partner decided it would be a good idea to make his whistle and voice the center of attention. Never a good idea for any referee let alone one in an 8-1 blowout. Anyway it was an awkward situation because I knew he was bad, the coaches knew he was bad, the players and their parents knew it too. Fortunately I made some great offsides calls and was saved from complaints. I guess its just something I can view as a learning experience to know not to be like him. Anyway, I have 3 games this weekend including a U-16 Center so I am really looking forward to that challenge and putting up with brat kids like I was on the soccer field.
Now, for the grand event. Sunday was game two for the Mean Machine and we were faced off against the freshly minted champions of the Summer League. Right on queue the good guys jumped out to a 2-0 lead just like week one off of two great header goals. I saved a breakaway early and a couple of close range attempts to keep them off the score sheet in the first half. The second half was highlighted by an incredible defensive display that included maybe two good scoring chances and another breakaway save by yours truly. The highlight of my night however was right before the final whistle when I pulled back a sure goal by palming the top of the ball on the goal line from my belly. Not sure the forward knew what hit him. The final result, a clean sheet and in this league that is something that may not happen the rest of the year. On my scale of Robert Green to USMNT call up I would say I have now elevated myself to Jerzey Dudek 2005 Champions League Final (2nd Half, Extra Time and PK's) status. More to come after week three.
Mean Machine: 2-0
Goals Against: 3
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
The Champions League, How awesome is this?
Grab your officially sponsored Heineken, your favorite club's jersey and play hookie from work for the afternoon. It's that time of year where a 2-1 loss on the road feels just as good as that nail biting 1-0 victory at home. That's right. It's Champions League season.
Although we have been served a few tantalizing appetizers in the qualification rounds it is time to get on to the meat and potatoes entree that is the round robin round. 8 pools, 6 games for each club that can propel them among the elite of Europe or relegate them to the kiddy pool Europa League.
With the first match day behind us already it is no surprise to see Barcelona shaking their proverbial fist at the rest of the continent and perhaps a come hither to a young man named Cesc in London. Manchester United appears to be attempting to reverse the commonplace strategy of clinching early and resting your stars late with their lackluster performance against Rangers. I'm sure Sir Alec will claim he's starting a tactical renaissance. Tottenham seem to have bounced back from their post qualifier hangover and managed a nervy 2-2 draw against Werder Bremen in Germany.
Looking forward to the months of competition that lay ahead I am interested to see if the English Premier League can regain its slipping foothold against the continent's elite. Last year was the first year since 2004 that an English team did not appear in the final and that was after a period of pure dominance from the EPL's top 4. It seems too easy to crown Barcelona the early favorites, but consider the following. Last years Champions, Inter Milan , lost the new European mastermind Jose Mourinho to Real Madrid and settled for the former Liverpool gaffer Rafa Benitez who believe it or not once held the edge over Mourinho in European tactics. I have to take a wait and see approach on the Italian giants. Real Madrid, now under the control of the aforementioned Mourinho seems like the sexy choice, given they have the games most overrated superstar in Christiano Ronaldo as well as a plethora of the world's best to surround him. My bold Madrid prediction, we will care a lot more about new boy Mesut Ozil by the time May rolls around than CR7.
I suppose the real question is who will break the mold of the the multi-millionaires this year and be the thorn in the side of tradition. Nothing used to annoy me more than watching a game played in Turkey listening to thousands of fans whistle obnoxiously throughout the match. But after watching the World Cup and the inevitable migraine of vuvuzela droning, well the whistling might sound downright musical. Plus nothing is more amusing than watching a world class club spoil their shorts when they give up a goal to the home side 10 minutes in and realize they may not leave that god forsaken country alive if they mount a comeback. So for the sake of this post I'll assume Bursaspor just had an off night and will show their true colors in their next home fixture against Man U.
The only thing that is for certain is that over the next few months there will be heroes and there will be villains. Wonder goals and blundering kicks from the spot. World class goaltending and Robert Green impersonators. Lots of Heineken commercials and creative excuses to get the afternoon off.
The Champions League is here. Enjoy.
Although we have been served a few tantalizing appetizers in the qualification rounds it is time to get on to the meat and potatoes entree that is the round robin round. 8 pools, 6 games for each club that can propel them among the elite of Europe or relegate them to the kiddy pool Europa League.
With the first match day behind us already it is no surprise to see Barcelona shaking their proverbial fist at the rest of the continent and perhaps a come hither to a young man named Cesc in London. Manchester United appears to be attempting to reverse the commonplace strategy of clinching early and resting your stars late with their lackluster performance against Rangers. I'm sure Sir Alec will claim he's starting a tactical renaissance. Tottenham seem to have bounced back from their post qualifier hangover and managed a nervy 2-2 draw against Werder Bremen in Germany.
Looking forward to the months of competition that lay ahead I am interested to see if the English Premier League can regain its slipping foothold against the continent's elite. Last year was the first year since 2004 that an English team did not appear in the final and that was after a period of pure dominance from the EPL's top 4. It seems too easy to crown Barcelona the early favorites, but consider the following. Last years Champions, Inter Milan , lost the new European mastermind Jose Mourinho to Real Madrid and settled for the former Liverpool gaffer Rafa Benitez who believe it or not once held the edge over Mourinho in European tactics. I have to take a wait and see approach on the Italian giants. Real Madrid, now under the control of the aforementioned Mourinho seems like the sexy choice, given they have the games most overrated superstar in Christiano Ronaldo as well as a plethora of the world's best to surround him. My bold Madrid prediction, we will care a lot more about new boy Mesut Ozil by the time May rolls around than CR7.
I suppose the real question is who will break the mold of the the multi-millionaires this year and be the thorn in the side of tradition. Nothing used to annoy me more than watching a game played in Turkey listening to thousands of fans whistle obnoxiously throughout the match. But after watching the World Cup and the inevitable migraine of vuvuzela droning, well the whistling might sound downright musical. Plus nothing is more amusing than watching a world class club spoil their shorts when they give up a goal to the home side 10 minutes in and realize they may not leave that god forsaken country alive if they mount a comeback. So for the sake of this post I'll assume Bursaspor just had an off night and will show their true colors in their next home fixture against Man U.
The only thing that is for certain is that over the next few months there will be heroes and there will be villains. Wonder goals and blundering kicks from the spot. World class goaltending and Robert Green impersonators. Lots of Heineken commercials and creative excuses to get the afternoon off.
The Champions League is here. Enjoy.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Back on the Pitch
DISCLAIMER: The Back on the Pitch portion of Off the Woodwork will contain details of my pursuit back into playing and reffing. They may exaggerate the truth and be filled with tongue in cheek references to my abilities. If you wish to ignore these posts and only read about pertinent information I will in no way be offended.
This past weekend marked my glorious return to a soccer field for the first time in months. More notably, it marked my first time between the posts in a real live competitive game on a full size net since high school (about 5 years). If your wondering why I hadn't played in that long the explanation is two fold. One, as any goalie can relate, we think we are the greatest striker to grace this game. Therefore I had been plying my trade as huffing and puffing, good for one run a game terror of the left flank striker/midfield hybrid (I use midfielder loosely because rarely did I retreat into my defensive half. Secondly, other than intramural teams, summer rec leagues and the occasional call up for the club team at CMU I never really pursued the opportunity to play keeper again. I thought I was satisfied with my contribution to the game and had a even contemplated the idea of keeper burnout. I enjoyed running around, chipping in some goals here and there, not having the stress and guilt that is inevitable with every ball you scoop out of your own net. Only now, do I realize how much I really missed it.
With my move to Athens came the need to keep myself busy and get mixed in with my new social surrounding. And seeing as my impromptu move inconveniently cut my summer rec league short after just two games (and one stunning diving/falling header finish) I had the hankering for some more soccer. But it wasn't really until my fiancee moved down in August that I made a concentrated effort to get back into the game when one day she asked me if I ever thought about where I would be if I kept with soccer and if I thought I was a good enough goalie that I could have kept playing. Well unknown to her this was definitely a thought that kept me up on more than one night and this seemed like the perfect wake up call to actually do something about it. So I set my sights on a glorious comeback with a competitive men's team, The Mean Machine, in a Sunday YWCO league here in Athens. An email conversation later and the Mean Machine had themselves a new keeper and my much anticipated return was looming.
As Sunday approached I was feeling ready. I had gotten a few shots from the fiancee and played in a scrimmage on Wednesday. Game time came and I made an early statement with a diving left handed parry on an abbreviated breakaway. My big am I too old for this moment came about midway through the first half when I slide out on a 50-50 ball and took a cleat to the stomach. Mind you I got to the ball first, and no whistle... so that didn't help the feeling. However, back in my heyday, when I actually had a quick first step I would have been in and out, with the ball, no harm done. Sunday, not so lucky. I digress... We took a 2-0 lead into halftime despite our teams weary legs. In the second half I made a few worldly saves (read disclaimer) but I really did make a great save on a cross in which the goal was open and I managed to dive and block it with my chest. This ensued in a poor clear that fell to an attacker about 20 yards out who promptly ripped a shot off the crossbar upper ninety, truly one of the best goals ever scored against me. Another quick goal off the post and we were tied 2-2. I should note here that we play 7v7 on about a 70 yard field so it promotes goal scoring and really is an exciting brand of soccer. We answered back with 2 goals of our own and even though they pulled one back to make it 4-3 late we pounded in the clincher with about a minute left.
After the game everyone seemed pleased with my performance and a national team call up is surely to arrive soon. In all honesty it was great to be back and I recommend that anyone who has the itch to do something should scratch it with all their might and go for it! I'll leave you with a weak promise that I won't ramble on about my washed up experiences for more than a few paragraphs from now on. For all our sake.
Mean Machine: 1-0
Goals Against: 3
This past weekend marked my glorious return to a soccer field for the first time in months. More notably, it marked my first time between the posts in a real live competitive game on a full size net since high school (about 5 years). If your wondering why I hadn't played in that long the explanation is two fold. One, as any goalie can relate, we think we are the greatest striker to grace this game. Therefore I had been plying my trade as huffing and puffing, good for one run a game terror of the left flank striker/midfield hybrid (I use midfielder loosely because rarely did I retreat into my defensive half. Secondly, other than intramural teams, summer rec leagues and the occasional call up for the club team at CMU I never really pursued the opportunity to play keeper again. I thought I was satisfied with my contribution to the game and had a even contemplated the idea of keeper burnout. I enjoyed running around, chipping in some goals here and there, not having the stress and guilt that is inevitable with every ball you scoop out of your own net. Only now, do I realize how much I really missed it.
With my move to Athens came the need to keep myself busy and get mixed in with my new social surrounding. And seeing as my impromptu move inconveniently cut my summer rec league short after just two games (and one stunning diving/falling header finish) I had the hankering for some more soccer. But it wasn't really until my fiancee moved down in August that I made a concentrated effort to get back into the game when one day she asked me if I ever thought about where I would be if I kept with soccer and if I thought I was a good enough goalie that I could have kept playing. Well unknown to her this was definitely a thought that kept me up on more than one night and this seemed like the perfect wake up call to actually do something about it. So I set my sights on a glorious comeback with a competitive men's team, The Mean Machine, in a Sunday YWCO league here in Athens. An email conversation later and the Mean Machine had themselves a new keeper and my much anticipated return was looming.
As Sunday approached I was feeling ready. I had gotten a few shots from the fiancee and played in a scrimmage on Wednesday. Game time came and I made an early statement with a diving left handed parry on an abbreviated breakaway. My big am I too old for this moment came about midway through the first half when I slide out on a 50-50 ball and took a cleat to the stomach. Mind you I got to the ball first, and no whistle... so that didn't help the feeling. However, back in my heyday, when I actually had a quick first step I would have been in and out, with the ball, no harm done. Sunday, not so lucky. I digress... We took a 2-0 lead into halftime despite our teams weary legs. In the second half I made a few worldly saves (read disclaimer) but I really did make a great save on a cross in which the goal was open and I managed to dive and block it with my chest. This ensued in a poor clear that fell to an attacker about 20 yards out who promptly ripped a shot off the crossbar upper ninety, truly one of the best goals ever scored against me. Another quick goal off the post and we were tied 2-2. I should note here that we play 7v7 on about a 70 yard field so it promotes goal scoring and really is an exciting brand of soccer. We answered back with 2 goals of our own and even though they pulled one back to make it 4-3 late we pounded in the clincher with about a minute left.
After the game everyone seemed pleased with my performance and a national team call up is surely to arrive soon. In all honesty it was great to be back and I recommend that anyone who has the itch to do something should scratch it with all their might and go for it! I'll leave you with a weak promise that I won't ramble on about my washed up experiences for more than a few paragraphs from now on. For all our sake.
Mean Machine: 1-0
Goals Against: 3
Friday, September 10, 2010
The Beautiful Game? (America's Obsession With Pretty Soccer)
The World Cup has come and gone and two months after the United States was painfully eliminated by Ghana for yet the second time in as many World Cups we find ourselves questioning the very fabric of a team that Bob Bradley has sewn together. Let's turn back the clock to the summer of 2009. After a bad loss to Italy in the Confederations Cup, American soccer fans everywhere complain of a boring, negative, counter attacking approach to facing the world champions. Bob Bradley's head is demanded on a sacrificial platter for the soccer gods if we ever wish to have international success until the end of time.
What happens next? A gutsy draw against Egypt, the African Champions, a world shocking 2-0 victory over Spain, the European and eventual World Champions, and a "you have got to be freaking kidding me" 2-0 lead against the greatest soccer nation of all-time, Brazil. Now granted, we quickly gave up three goals and settled for our first ever runners-up medal in a major international competition but people were excited! Our boring, negative, counter attacking approach had turned into an exciting, positive counter attacking approach... wait a minute, somethings sounds strange here.
What happened is fans enjoyed winning. They didn't care how it was done. Why? Because we won. We beat the best team in the world and had one hand on the trophy against Brazil. Bradley had figured out how to use the speedy Charlie Davies and the muscular Jozy Altidore as an effective strike partnership and let the uber-conditioned, face of the American team dream boy, Landon Donovan run rampant down the left flank.
Now fast forward back to post 2010 World Cup USMNT Depression, commonly referred to Ricardo Clark Disorder (RCD). Bradley has been hired on for another four years and the complaints are coming in from coast to coast about four more years of ugly soccer.
Here is my issue with a desire to play a beautiful style. Assuming we go with the general backing for a "pretty" style we can assess this means an open, attacking style of soccer. This usually includes at least one dynamic striker, a true playmaker in the midfield, a wing man capable of beating the last defender and providing deadly crosses, fullbacks with the ability and freedom to overlap and jump into the attack and generally a centerback capable of shutting down an attack and starting one of their own in possession. Now these are all things that even the best teams in the world are lucky to acquire. I don't think I would offend anyone by saying the United States is not one of the best teams in the world.
When you look at the American team you really don't see a single identifiable player in any of these roles. Davies and Altidore maybe made one effective striker, but with Davies future lying in question so does the future of American goalscoring. Michael Bradley is great at what he does, but he is not a prototypical magician in possession who can be the point man for every attack. Dempsey and Donovan, those are the two names we saw lined up on the flanks of our attack throughout the World Cup. Both of these players are the opposite of a wing player, as both prefer and are much more effective when cutting inside. The fullback positions are constantly up for grabs and the only American born fullback who effectively gets into the attack is Frankie Hejduk and he's nearing 40. Finally, I don't think anyone would expect Jay Demerit, Oguchi Onyewu or Carlos Bocanegra to start the attack from the back.
When breaking it down like this is it really hard to believe that the United States is just not built to play a "beautiful" style? Why stuff a square peg in a round hole? Americans should embrace their gritty, well conditioned, relentless compatriots. Do we still let in too many weak goals? Yes! Do we lose possession in the midfield easily? (Read RCD) Of course! But I can safely assume that did we not play the style we did that we would not have advanced, would not have scored the most exciting goal in USMNT history against Algeria and Jurgen Klinsman would be imposing yoga in Adidas tracksuits on our players right now. Let's embrace what we have and work hard at becoming a better possession team. Then, with a more established talent pool we can progress towards those teams we envy. For now we are a hard working, never give up, hard nosed squad... heck when I put it like that, it sounds downright American.
What happens next? A gutsy draw against Egypt, the African Champions, a world shocking 2-0 victory over Spain, the European and eventual World Champions, and a "you have got to be freaking kidding me" 2-0 lead against the greatest soccer nation of all-time, Brazil. Now granted, we quickly gave up three goals and settled for our first ever runners-up medal in a major international competition but people were excited! Our boring, negative, counter attacking approach had turned into an exciting, positive counter attacking approach... wait a minute, somethings sounds strange here.
What happened is fans enjoyed winning. They didn't care how it was done. Why? Because we won. We beat the best team in the world and had one hand on the trophy against Brazil. Bradley had figured out how to use the speedy Charlie Davies and the muscular Jozy Altidore as an effective strike partnership and let the uber-conditioned, face of the American team dream boy, Landon Donovan run rampant down the left flank.
Now fast forward back to post 2010 World Cup USMNT Depression, commonly referred to Ricardo Clark Disorder (RCD). Bradley has been hired on for another four years and the complaints are coming in from coast to coast about four more years of ugly soccer.
Here is my issue with a desire to play a beautiful style. Assuming we go with the general backing for a "pretty" style we can assess this means an open, attacking style of soccer. This usually includes at least one dynamic striker, a true playmaker in the midfield, a wing man capable of beating the last defender and providing deadly crosses, fullbacks with the ability and freedom to overlap and jump into the attack and generally a centerback capable of shutting down an attack and starting one of their own in possession. Now these are all things that even the best teams in the world are lucky to acquire. I don't think I would offend anyone by saying the United States is not one of the best teams in the world.
When you look at the American team you really don't see a single identifiable player in any of these roles. Davies and Altidore maybe made one effective striker, but with Davies future lying in question so does the future of American goalscoring. Michael Bradley is great at what he does, but he is not a prototypical magician in possession who can be the point man for every attack. Dempsey and Donovan, those are the two names we saw lined up on the flanks of our attack throughout the World Cup. Both of these players are the opposite of a wing player, as both prefer and are much more effective when cutting inside. The fullback positions are constantly up for grabs and the only American born fullback who effectively gets into the attack is Frankie Hejduk and he's nearing 40. Finally, I don't think anyone would expect Jay Demerit, Oguchi Onyewu or Carlos Bocanegra to start the attack from the back.
When breaking it down like this is it really hard to believe that the United States is just not built to play a "beautiful" style? Why stuff a square peg in a round hole? Americans should embrace their gritty, well conditioned, relentless compatriots. Do we still let in too many weak goals? Yes! Do we lose possession in the midfield easily? (Read RCD) Of course! But I can safely assume that did we not play the style we did that we would not have advanced, would not have scored the most exciting goal in USMNT history against Algeria and Jurgen Klinsman would be imposing yoga in Adidas tracksuits on our players right now. Let's embrace what we have and work hard at becoming a better possession team. Then, with a more established talent pool we can progress towards those teams we envy. For now we are a hard working, never give up, hard nosed squad... heck when I put it like that, it sounds downright American.
The Kick-Off
I approach this new adventure much like the start of a new season. Anxious, nervous, excited, hopeful. However instead of ten defenders, midfielders and forwards guarding me I stand with only my words, my ideas and my opinions. As a keeper I have often caught myself drifting into a soccer infused trance in the middle of a match much like the artist or musician would looking at a beautiful painting or composing their next great masterpiece. The movement of a midfielder or the pulling of an offside trap captivated me since I first began to appreciate the great game of soccer. I have had the privilege to view the creation as it was intended, from the back of a flowing unit, eleven members acting as one. I hope that you will let me share with you my views on the game of soccer as I offer insight, opinion and the occasional touch of humor to matters all over the realm of this sport. The first touch of a new season is underway. And I'm ready.
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