FC Cincinnati 0-3 Columbus Crew SC: A Collection of Negative Metaphors

Fucking adorable, but it still has to change...

In my youth soccer days, I had a coach who turned his back on us after getting fed up with how the team practiced. He insisted we continue, only without him watching. It didn’t bother me (seemed for the best, really; he was unhappy, we were unhappy, etc.), but my teammates cracked within minutes and started begging him to watch again. That was the goal, of course, and he gave everyone reminders on “goals and attitudes,” etc. I don’t recall if we did any better, but that was never the point of the exercise.

I don’t know why that story came to me, but watching FC Cincinnati get destroyed by Columbus Crew SC by an ultimately merciful 3-0 final score allowed me to sympathize a little with my old coach.

I’ve been waiting to see how FC Cincinnati stacked up against Major League Soccer competition since June 10, 2018 – that was the first time I saw them play (and, for the record, they beat North Carolina in that one). Between my commute and some questionable choices on the video streaming side by and among FC Cincy, the Chicago Fire and the good people who run the Carolina Challenge Cup, I missed the live, and only, video stream of Cincinnati’s draw against Chicago. Watching them play the Charleston Battery…I dunno, it felt less like something any of us needed to know than a lazy farewell fuck with an old flame. (Also, I’d already watched them play Charleston last year as well). Given all the above, and unless I blacked out them playing an MLS team in last year’s U.S. Open Cup, yesterday’s game against Columbus really did count as my first time seeing FC Cincinnati against MLS opposition and…yeah, where to begin?

Saying a team got “played off the park” is one of soccer’s most familiar clichés, but FC Cincinnati did something more disturbing in Charleston yesterday: they didn’t to show up. They looked every bit as unready for primetime as the “jerseys” in which they played. By the end of getting spun dizzy by Columbus, I’m guessing some of them appreciated that little taste of anonymity. A few of them might have appreciated a bag to wear over their heads. Beat on both sides of the ball, they didn’t defend well and attacked with the force of three kittens, that’s the kind of shit you see in the FA Cup when the Premier League teams come in to face the amateurs. Worse, Roland Lamah, the only guy to produce a highlight reel moment (and he managed two…ish) let his final highlight take the form of a two-footed tackle from behind and a deserved sending off…

…to turn to another cliché, yes, sometimes a team needs that spark and that's probably what Lamah was after. Sparks are funny, though, inspiration in one scenario, and step one to a dumpster conflagration in another.

FC Cincinnati 3-0 Charleston Battery: Wire to Wire, and Beyond

It's greased lightning!

It’s rare to see a 2-0 win as dominant as the one FC Cincinnati dropped on the visiting Charleston Battery (and, yes, I realize the game actually ended 3-0 - and FC Cincy deserved all of that third goal - but it goes against a premise, so…ssshhhh, bear with me). The orange and blue (that’s FC Cincy, who needs a snappier nickname) controlled every aspect of the game, but without looking likely to run up the score. They thoroughly contained the Battery, sometimes in their own half for soccer’s equivalent of eternity, and, with one exception (Ataulla Guerra pinging a bomb off Spencer Richey’s crossbar), Cincinnati’s defenders never gave the visitors more than a glimpse of daylight (e.g., Forrest Lasso rotating/sliding to snuff Patrick Okonwko’s and/or Charleston's best second-half chance).

Both teams came in boasting unbeaten streaks that I can’t stop visualizing as cars rumbling up for an evening of street racing (see The Fast & the Furious, Grease, and maybe Rebel Without a Cause; haven’t seen that one): 15 for Cincinnati and 11 for Charleston. The home team ended the visitor’s streak with confidence-eating finality. The Battery kept their shape by and large, and I think I’d find that distressing - i.e., falling 3-0 when you didn’t shit the proverbial bed (that’s probably not a proverb). Think failing a test when you actually prepared for the thing.

Box scores don’t always put the details in proper relief, but I’d hold up two, maybe two and a half stats (in the match center, where you’ll find highlights too) that capture what decided this game: FC Cincy’s 2-of-3 advantage in duels and their huge advantage in shooting accuracy (75% to 16.7%) - and the latter goes back to another number, e.g., the slim margin in the total number of shots. Those numbers underline two things: 1) how well the Battery held its shape for nearly the full 90*, and 2) how little that mattered, thanks to how well Cincinnati threw around its weight.

* The few honest breakdowns Charleston did suffer produced the result - more specifically, the final score. The third goal - of which, yes, it did happen - concluded the only period of pressure that saw the Battery tremble on the verge of cracking. That came late - around the 85th, and lasted till the final whistle - when Fanendo Adi and Justin Hoyte put at least three clean shots on goal, and Nazmi Albadawi played the dangerous ball that led to Skylar Thomas’ soul-bruising stoppage time own-goal. The other goal came in first-half stoppage time when Albadawi chased down a loose trap by a Charleston player (who, incidentally, had just intercepted a Cincinnati pass), and then combined with Emory Welshman, and Corben Bone, who would finish off Albadawi’s assist, to score.