Stream of Consciousness: USOC Final
October 4th, 2007 . 8:38 pm . By: DJ Walker
I hardly even know what to say. The phrase that always comes to mind at times like these (and the soccer gods know there’s been a lot of them in the last decade or so) is gut-shot. I feel gut-shot. Not because the boys didn’t play their hearts out, because they did. Not because I begrudge New England the victory, because I don’t. Not because I’m not happy for the gracious and friendly New England fans that came down for the game, because I am. And it’s not even because we lost. It’s because we lost . . . again. It’s like the story of Tantalus, destined to spend eternity within reach of that which would satisfy, but never able to obtain it. If ol’ Tantalus was a football fan, no doubt he’s spending eternity reaching for the fruit and the water while wearing an FC Dallas scarf around his neck. You know how you see people on TV with their faces painted, or their hair done up in the colors of their home team, and you think, ‘yeah, that’s cool and everything, but it’ll look pretty stupid if they lose’. I was that guy last night. Since I barely escaped the office in time to make it to Big D, and I was still wearing my lawyerin’ clothes, I decided to offset the horridly grown-uppy-ness of my appearance by letting Mrs. Justscore give me a bright red Mohawk with white stripes on the side. But, sure enough, it looked pretty stupid by 9:00 or so. Ah well . . . I did my part for team spirit, at least. And embarrassed my family by being seen on television, which is always nice. As far as the game itself, it was particularly galling to have New England only manage one well-taken goal, and get two complete and utter gifts that were our own fault. Our two goals were deserved at least (and the first, by Artie, was a friggin’ work of art). Again, defending is the bane of our existence. Or, I should say, “occasional lapses in what is otherwise a really talented, solid defense” is again the bane of our existence. It was really hard to stay for the whole game. I really wanted to just head for the mini-van and drive home at halftime, because I could sense what was coming and didn’t want to see it. I’m glad I stayed of course, because we just barely missed making an epic comeback that would have been one for the ages. Though, to be honest, I’m not sure if I could have lived through two overtimes and Penalty Kicks. I feel fairly sure I would have become one of those occasional cases of Spontaneous Human Combustion you see on Discovery Channel documentaries now and then. At some point I felt like Gary Gilmore, begging the Governor of Utah to hurry up and execute him. If it’s inevitable, sometimes a guy would just as soon have it over with quickly. I couldn’t bring myself to go to the Verizon Wireless Club for the post game meet and greet with the team. I could already tell El Pescadito was undergoing some really intense existential angst at the thought of not winning the game, and not scoring to boot. I didn’t want to have to see it up close, for both our sakes. Dario, I know, would be inconsolable, and I didn’t want to be one more hand he had to shake. I have no doubt, if he was there, that he was apologizing personally to people for the loss; that’s the kind of man he is. He’ll be feeling this for a while. And let’s face it, all of those guys had to be dreading going out into the VWC and shaking hands and putting on a brave face after losing a game that big. I didn’t want to be a part of it for some reason. I just didn’t want them to have to go through that for me. Then, of course there was that whole thing about my hair being in a big red freaking Mohawk. I did stay long enough to see the boys get their Runner’s-up medals. What a cruel little piece of ceremony that is, by the way. Make them stay out on the field for an extra half-hour or so to have some guy from the Federation shake their hand and give them a permanent bronze reminder that they lost the biggest game of their lives. Nice. Real Nice. Most of the Inferno stayed as well, and after getting the medals (and, perhaps even more cruelly, having to watch while the Revs got theirs), most of the players, coach Morrow, Hitch, and even the Hunt Brothers came over to shake everybody’s hand and thank them for the support. Bet you anything you want to bet that kind of thing doesn’t happen at Cowboys games. So, sure, it was another big game lost, and I won’t lie, more than a couple times I thought about just giving up on the team and going back to a life where I don’t drive 400 miles to Dallas and back 20 times a year. But I won’t, I know. I’ll be back for the rest of this season, and I’ll be back for next. I’ll keep hoping for the best, but expecting the worse, and I’ll keep cheering for the boys win or lose, and, one suspects at times like these, I’ll probably stay long enough to watch FC Dallas become to 21st Century what the Chicago Cubs were to the 20th. But, truly, what else can I do? They’re my team. 10 Comments Comments RSS TrackBack Identifier URI Leave a comment |
I was on the stage behind Reis in the first half, a lone Hooped shirt in the sea of Navy guys. Arturo’s goal was beautiful from back there, and Oduro was busting his butt the whole half.
I spent the second half in the east stand. I intended to leave when the game was over, but couldn’t make myself move. Dax, Cooper, and Hitch came over to thank us after they got done with the Inferno.
As for the game, they left it all on the field, but the D is just not good enough right now.
Nice write-up. “I fell in love with football as I was later to fall in love with women: suddenly, inexplicably, uncritically, giving no thought to the pain or disruption it would bring…” – opening sentence, “Fever Pitch”. Your essay about FCD reminds me of that great line. The guys gave it their all, and that’s all you can ask. But we are certainly filling the karmic bank account there is no doubt, and the wheel of Fate is surely due to give us a break here sometime soon. We did recapture the lost magic in the second half, and hopefully we can build on that.
Great write up DJ. Unfortunately, we know how that feels, four times over. It’s the worst feeling in the world, but you realize at the end of the day that this is still your team, and you know that no matter how bad you feel, you’ll be right behind them their next game.
It was great meeting you … and I sincerely wish FCD the best of luck and hope to meet in DC for the Cup.
I give it up to the guys for playing hard most of the night. I also think Morrow made a wise move sitting Denilson. Let’s not forget about the return of Cooper. He played a lot more agressive than I thought he would.
Yes, Good write up.
Gluttons for punishment?
Is there really a light at the end of the tunnel or is it just a train? I’m gonna stick around and find out.
Thanks for the article! You know . . . despite the emotion that you conveyed — or because of it, I think, I think I feel better. I feel really bad for the guys, because it seemed evident (even on TV — I was stuck at home) that they played very hard. But to read your comments at the end and the above supportive comments — that’s what true fans are. I’ve only “suffered” with this team for a year, but this summer, I’ve spent time out at practices and such with my daughter, so maybe we see them more as “people” as opposed to just “players,” like some fans on . . say . . the Blog . . . who complain and make rather negative (ie almost mean) comments. And having gotten to “know” them, so to speak, I can honestly say that I’ll support them, no matter what.
GO HOOPS!
P.S. A short story — my daugther has been sending bday and get well cards (WAY too many of those!) to the team to show her (our) support (because she reads the news articles and knows people aren’t always very nice with what they say). She sent one to Pablo after the game on the 20th, when he went out with a pulled hamstring . . . well, yesterday she got a signed player card in the mail with a sweet message from him. THAT’S why I love this team — they are a GREAT bunch of guys.
3 days later and I’m still heart-broken.
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That loss still hurts.
And I did stick around for the “festivities” in the VWC so I could shake the boys’ hands and THANK THEM for the effort. Some nights it just doesn’t go your way.
I actually stuck around for the trophy presentation – down in the front on the west side. Arms folded, dejected, right smack dab in the middle of the NE faithful that were there. Nice touch by Ralston to bring the trophy over so each of the fans could touch it. D@mn it I wanted that trophy to be ours. I just couldn’t leave the stadium – it’s an honor to see a trophy handed out, even if it is to the other team.
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