At school I schlep to watch games at Savannah’s Scottish pub, Molly McPherson’s. Polished wood floorboards usually creak, to announce its only customer. Fans flutter flags and stir the simmering heat of mid-evening Savannah, which creeps in behind me. Voices of British announcers drift through surround sound speakers. As the lads trickle inside to sip on pints the maroon and violet of Barcelona scarves color few necks in a row. The European Champion’s league telecast was the object of our affection. A few months ago I sat scrawling words similar to these in an arduous attempt to hammer out a journalism piece: which relayed my passion and reverence for the game. But, an article which carried an informative yet stern tone as to the current state of U.S. footy affairs.
Where are the nail-biting fans or dedicated supporters packing into the armpit of pubs and sports bars? Can our beloved footy float in the sea of America’s most popular sports? At Giants stadium, for example, the cost of parking, $10.00, exceeds the cost of admittance to a Metrostars game, $8.00. Ian Ng, a college freshman, lent me some insight, “I don’t like soccer as much as football, basketball or baseball…I like American sports better. Football, basketball and baseball were created in America. Soccer is not an American sport because many other countries play it.” Acceptance must hinge on shoe deals and advertising schemes, for big business has reduced this nation to the state of a selfish and ignorant child.
Not one to hold my breath for the rumor-mill, Beckham printed on the back of a L.A. Galaxy uniform might revive footy from its dismal stateside existence. A wave of change could follow Beckham’s entrance into Major League Soccer; reminiscent of Pele’s influence when playing for the New York Cosmos. Maybe the USL and other professional leagues should sit down with the M.L.S. and sew together a cohesive fabric for promotion and relegation within a new system. In truth, doubt’s shadow looms over future prospects in America; grassroots support at the youth level just isn’t what it could be.
In the wake of this summer’s World Cup it seems most of the polity have slipped into or have never left a state of mental submission. Comedian politicians, stock market flux, fixed apr mortgage rates, or prescription drug refill dates have caught Americans in their usual mire of narcissism. Thankfully the EPL begins anew.
A thought to close: During memorable road trips along Jamaica’s western coast, my brother Stephen and I saw more fields and playable pitches adorned with posts, barrels, and players than witnessed our entire lives growing up in Atlanta, Georgia
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