In Which I Try to Restart That Thing with the U.S. Men's National Team...

The mood I'm battling.

Seeing as we may not get a 2020 Major League Soccer regular season, now seems like a good time to return to an old hook-up, aka, the U.S. Men’s National Team…

…yeah, yeah, I’d be stunned stupid if MLS let CBA negotiations scuttle a landmark season (25th anniversary’s a biggie), but these are stupid times, so buckle up, I guess?

Back to the task at hand, though, the U.S. Men start qualifying for 2022 Bizarro World Cup this year, so there’s no time like the present for all concerned to gear up, players and fans. And, honestly, I’d like to get on board, but…well, that’s gotten harder since those faraway years when, because I didn’t really have an MLS team to cheer for, the U.S. Men’s National Team was my team. Back then, half the reason I followed MLS was to learn about the player pool. 25 years later, I’m a lot, lot dumber about what the U.S. has for options and, in a particularly comic twist, following the U.S. Men reminds me of how I used to keep one eye on MLS while I tracked the Portland Timbers’ fate in the USL; that’s to say, the only time I see Christian Pulisic play comes during the rare occasions I see him play for the U.S. Men. Based on that visual diet – i.e., watching a frustrated Pulisic kick at the sub seats (and did I dream this?) after departing at the tail of another anemic performance – is it any wonder I find Pulisic something less than great shakes?

Also, don’t get me started on when and where they air the goddamn games. It’s like they want to fail.

As of today, I’m biting back all that anger and just…trying to get excited about the U.S. Men again and, hopefully, seeing them qualify for FIFA’s latest monstrosity (aka, Qatar 2022, coming that Christmas, apparently). Saturday’s friendly against Costa Rica will be the next step in that process (ESPNews, guys? Really?). The first step will be…honestly, just figuring out what they hell is going on – e.g., how are the CONCACAF teams qualifying for 2022 (or even Gold Cup 2021), and what the silly fuck was the CONCACAF Nations League?

Portland Timbers 4-0 Los Angeles Galaxy: Of Victory and Flexibility

The MVP of second assists.

In an attempt to keep this short (that failed; caveat lector, and is that name taken?), I’m going to use the counter-arguments to describe the Portland Timbers 4-0 submission hold over the Los Angeles Galaxy, here, in the fourth round of the U.S. Open Cup. Yes, at least three of the Timbers’ goals loitered in the neighborhood of lucky and, no, that was nothing like the Galaxy’s best team out there. My response to that is, so what? The fact that wasn’t LA’s best team only matters in terms of what Portland has to handle next time they play LA; the deeper story is that Portland played whatever LA threw onto the field straight off of it – and without fielding every one of its regulars, and that’s your context.

From the time Sebastian Blanco scored Portland’s third, and only fully intentional (and yet still fortunate), goal until the end of the game, the Timbers played cat-and-mouse with LA. For instance, somewhere around the 70th minute, and after a period of flinging the ball forward looking for the next goal, Portland collectively pulled back and steadily passed the ball backwards first, then all over the field, just holding it. I guesstimated the sequence at around 20 consecutive passes, but a full composed minute passed before LA got back on the ball. And then Portland chased LA off the ball again – or LA passed/pissed it away – the whole thing started all over again.

Dame Fortune might have kissed every one of Portland’s goals more or less closer to the lips (and Blanco’s was straight-up tongue), but the Timbers very deliberately wrecked the havoc that lead to each of them – whether by Blanco’s ball over the top to Jeremy “Broadside of” Ebobisse that caused the second goal or the slick combination between Tomas Conechny and Jorge Moreira that ended with the ball falling to Blanco for Portland’s third. As for the fourth goal, I only submit it for the record: after a brief pressing rally around the 2/3 mark of the game, the Galaxy slipped into a stupor for the rest of the game. Another useful deflection, another goal, game, set match, Portland.

That’s the entire narrative thrust of this game, really. Once the Timbers put the Galaxy in the soccer equivalent of a figure-four leg-lock over a 10-minute period in the first, this was 50 minutes of LA failing to find any solutions. Waiting on a tap-out that the rules of the game doesn’t allow, basically, and that means waiting for the final whistle to bless the inevitable. While you’re hear, though, I’ve got three bigger picture ideas to pass on, both about this game and the Timbers as general. In no particular order…

FC Cincinnati 2-2 Bethlehem Steel FC: A Brand New Them (Dammit!)

Incredibly, I'm not first to that analogy.

This has to be quick. It’s late, I got all kinds o’ shit ahead in the next two days, etc. etc. etc. [Ed. – Disregard; I passed out in the pasta salad before I could post last night. Still I preserved most of the mess.]

Where to begin, usual caveat applies - e.g., this counts as my second, 90-minute game with FC Cincinnati - only with a twist - e.g., motherfuckers changed the whole damn line-up on me. I come from Portland, Oregon, people. Portland. It takes injury (and inexcusable) jogging to get knocked out of the Portland Timbers starting eleven. I’m used to almost pointless predictability in my line-ups, that’s all I’m getting at. Anyway, moving on…

FC Cincinnati cannot be happy with that game - i.e., the one where they broadly outplayed Bethlehem Steel FC from about the 15th minute, if with major ups and downs between that point and the end. (See here for all the stats and highlights on offer here; I'll try to find other sources going forward.) That game absolutely became Cincy’s for the taking after the 55th minute with the rather stupid sending off of Olivier Mbaizo, a Bethlehem defender(?) who tackled too hard and then couldn’t manage the slew of mini-provocations that followed.

Now, hold that thought, because a whole bunch of crazy crap happened roughly ten minutes after that sending off.

How to keep this short? OK, it took both teams a while to get rolling in the game, but FC Cincinnati generally took over when noted above, but Bethlehem still scored first, the cheeky bastards. That took a piece of raw persistence from Derrick Jones, someone Philadelphia Union fans should recognize (I think) and also definitely in the Top 3 players on the field tonight, but that also kicked the game into “give-a-shit” gear for both teams. Cagey switched to combative, to some extent. And that’s when things turned.

After Mbaizo lost too much of his shit to be ignored (he practically begged to be sent off), Cincinnati took advantage, even if it took 10 minutes to take advantage. Cincinnati’s two goals came within (roughly) one minute of the other, and they also followed from a sort of poetic justice. The guys who scored them - Russell Cicerone and Nazmi Albadawi - had been Cincy’s best players on the night, so seeing that rewarded felt good. Cicerone scored the prettier goal and he scored second, but the after-glow on that fucker got snuffed out under one minute later when Bethlehem’s theretofore invisible Fabian Herbers turned a short feed/burst of speed (relative to Cincinnati’s Jem De Wit) into Bethlehem back in the game. He leveled the score, and that’s where the game ended, 2-2, and with Cincinnati with the bigger disappointment.

Portland Timbers 2-1 Los Angeles FC: A Song for the Unsung

Yes, that fucking good. "Everyone around the world...C'MON!!"

To venture into personally unfamiliar territory, seeing Liam Ridgewell pull up gimpy made me nervous. I’m generally cool on Ridgewell, but I’d also bought into this idea of balance and roles within recent Portland Timbers starting elevens, and balance between roles, and that idea seemed…threatened when Ridgewell lay face-down on the turf contemplating his bad luck, and by the idea of any given piece coming out of it. And so early in the game, too…

To spare one last thought for Ridgewell, I’m happy he played his way (back?) into my heart and confidence (just…I’ve always been a hardass with Ridgewell) before whatever injury struck him today, god speed and scare the shit out of the other guys as soon as you can, Liam, and thanks! Conversely, I was absolutely fucking thrilled, 1) to see Larrys Mabiala continue to look like Portland’s best central defender and, 2) that Julio Cascante came in, had at least two massive moments, and, one threatening ball skipping between his legs aside, looked like he could start if circumstance or Giovanni Savarese came calling. And the team has Bill Tuiloma in the back pocket inside its back pocket, and he’s been competent, if not good, and all that together could mean a stable central defense for the length of the season. Even if you think a great defense is the worst part of a championship team (it is), they matter immensely, and the Timbers have a sorted, solid defense, or at least one that keeps delivering - even via the understudies. And that leaves them only needing a slick attack in order to achieve unicorn-awesome, a real thing, look at the internet.

Before leaving the defense, I want to salute Zarek Valentin for starring in this afternoon’s game. My sense that I saw his face as much as anyone else’s and more than most hints at how often LAFC attacked Valentin’s flank, and all the LAFC clearances he sent back into their attacking third after set-pieces kept Portland in at least three attacks. I'm sure other players' names will get more mention after the game, but I think the broadcast booth mentioned Valentin’s more during it; he was everywhere he needed to be and a quarter-step early. Based on the past three, four weeks, Valentin wants to stay on the field pretty damn bad. That’s…just great.

MLS Week 10: A League of Dilemmas & Ten Things

Neutral fans for Chicago v. Atlanta

“And there is that long ball to start things off for the Rapids.”

- Confirmation of general reality from the broadcast booth, #SKCvCOL

I don’t just love the unsubtle dig in at the Rapids’ in that line, it also sums up in a small number of words why I didn’t tune into Sporting KC v. Colorado. The same goes for SKC: I don’t watch them much because I feel like I know where they are. The same goes for Columbus Crew SC gutting out a goal-less road draw at the Seattle Sounders after going down a player (Pedro Santos…who really needs to check his shit) at the 15th minute: neither team is doing much right now and aren’t of much interest as a result.

So goes the process of elimination when I decide which games to watch every weekend on either side of whatever the Portland Timbers get up to. Because it’s half-driven by catching a spoiler - and only half; I still watched New York Red Bulls v. New York City FC, because that’s just good data (not to mention very impressive) - it’s a fairly imperfect method. For instance, I doubt anyone but fans of both teams and betting members of the sadomasochism community picked the Chicago Fire versus Atlanta United FC as a top bout for the weekend. Two other spoiled games lead me to that one, but I’m at least a little glad I tuned in because Chicago managed better than I expected, even playing at home; they also have a point of semi-major concern I’ll look at in one of the 10 Things below.

At this point in the season, though, I’m not sure Major League Soccer’s teams are so much rounding into either good or bad teams, as teams are sorting to, for lack of a better word, types. For instance, the Montreal Impact has to be the biggest “trap” team in MLS, terrible one weekend, lethal as poison the next, just ask the New England Revolution (but…more on that below). In Toronto FC and the New York Red Bulls, you’ve got the two teams likeliest to land 20 blows before you even hit the ground; New York City FC, on the other hand, has stumbled hard enough over the last month to fall from a permanent state of grace. The win against FC Dallas (again, more later) between two…just bad losses (NYCFC got shut-out in both and lost by a combined total of 7 goals) keeps the dreaded “glass jaw” label at bay until a bigger sample says otherwise, but, seeing a team who had rolled as fast as NYCFC take those hits…damn. (During the broadcast, Adrian Heath called the Red Bulls loss, “a shattering reality check,” or something like that.)

If you see omissions in the short (implied) list of top teams above, the team you have in mind might show up below. Might not, too. I’m confined to what I catch and I missed all the talkies and write-ups on this stuff this past weekend. Also, if you’re wondering where the Timbers fit into the puzzle above, I’ll wrap up with that after the 11th Thing down below.

San Jose Earthquakes 0-1 Portland Timbers: Paredes...Polo...Paredes...Polo...

Searching...as am I.

First things first, what adjective would you, personally, apply to that win: impressive, inspiring, expected, or solid?

Also, I have my poll…

Over the opening 30 minutes, just about everything around and about the Portland Timbers felt good, loose, and something heartwarmingly-close to cruise control. Whenever that changed over the next 60 minutes, Portland ‘keeper, Jeff Attinella, held up to the task; his 36th minute save might have knocked the socks off, but I got the bigger boost later in the game, when he lunged forward to clear a ball about 30 yards from Portland’s goal - i.e., well inside no-man’s land. Attinella played that moment with confidence, like he knew where the people around him would either be, or go, when he stepped forward. The general trends look strong and real, but that detail - a growing sense of who does what, when and where on the field - goes farthest in terms of making me think Portland could have places to go this season. (Mostly*.) With five road games behind them (e.g., Portland  has home games in the bank), and a 1-0 win picked up last night against the San Jose Earthquakes at Avaya Stadium - I feel like I’m going to go home happy more often than not in 2018.

Whether glorious or not, Attinella’s saves amounted to rounding up to some dangerous strays because the Timbers won this game on their merits. Alternately, it could be argued that San Jose lost this game on their faults; Anibal Godoy’s knack for the hard, pointless foul took the honors, but, contrary to Ross Smith’s mid-second-half commentary, Portland transitioned at will against San Jose, and for most of the game. San Jose responded in kind more often than I’d like - especially from minutes 55-75 - but they never could break through. And, when they did…Attinella.

So, again, impressive, inspiring, expected, or solid?

The team kept good shape for most of the game, and didn’t give the ‘Quakes much, but the Timbers hardly racked up chances. I know Fanendo Adi had a few (left foot, kid) - the kind that inspire the “oh, shit, that was close” stomach drop a little more than the rest - and the game played openly, as a whole, but I didn’t get the shooting gallery I saw as a real possibility. In fact, this game looked ever more likely to end goal-less as the game clock clicked higher. Beneath the lack of drama, though, a specific tension that would finally turn the game developed. As he got overwhelmed, little by little, Godoy resorted to more and dumber fouls, starting with his clumsy tug on Diego Chara in the middle (or thereabouts) of the second half. When Godoy finally fouled Diego Valeri in a dangerous place, but…c’mom, how many times does that free kick go missing? Or, more bluntly, it didn’t really occur to me to cross my fingers or anything else when Valeri stepped up; that’s the difference between hoping for something to happen and thinking it will, never mind expecting it. And, can I say it? Valeri hit that with textbook perfection. No, not like the shitty textbooks Texas dumps on the country like Chinese steel, but one of the good ones. I’ve seen prettier, big-bending free kicks than the shot Valeri dipped over San Jose’s wall, but not many that followed directions that neatly. San Jose’s ‘keeper, Andrew Tarbell (who is good), set his wall, took his position in the gap left behind, and Diego “Bless’d King” Valeri, chipped the ball over the wall, beyond Tarbell’s reach and - HELLO, beautiful! - first road win of the season!

Portland Timbers 3-2 Minnesota United FC: It Wasn't Dealt With Well

The Alvas Powell Award.

Sweet Jesus, where do I begin?

I expected the Portland Timbers to score, but without expecting Minnesota United FC to even sort of keep up if they did. I expected something tidier, boring even, two teams coursing back in forth as if running with plastic bags over their cleats, and two, maybe three goals going in - and per the distributional assumptions above (that is Portland would win by 2-0, 2-1, maybe even 3-0). By playing for their jobs (or…maybe even for the badge), Minnesota turned those assumptions on their head. The extent that Portland allowed them to do it is the underlying subject of this post, the question waiting for an answer. Whatever I expected tonight, it wasn’t that.

The Bizarro-World game that played under this one earns a mention too. Both teams scored goals that the referee (who? dunno. I’ll look it up tomorrow; I’m on a roll…or just starting one) called back for offside. I think the goal the Timbers scored should have counted, but I think the “goal” Minnesota scored (that is the one legitimately offside) established the center of this game as much as anything. Minnesota pulled Portland apart on that move; it was only the offside flag that saved the Timbers an earlier comeback than the one that ultimately arrived.

Portland’s offside goal, to their credit, followed from the kind of hunger you want to see in your local soccer club, players barreling forward to panic defenders, etc. The way that bobbled off Diego Valeri’s shin just so…look, under the rules of general physics, a ball doesn’t bounce with such perfect weight off someone else’s anything, which makes me see Valeri’s feed to Fanendo Adi as another piece of luck to bounce Portland’s way. Look, I saw the deflection on Alvas Powell’s cross to set up the Timbers’ second by Diego Valeri, and that lagged matched the timing of Valeri’s run. When I wrote last week about things just kind of working at home, that's totally what I'm talking about. General physics really do seem to bend in front of the home crowd, as if some omni-scientific placed magnets in the right places to make the ball move just so.

Hold on. I'm digressing from the anxiety I feel after this game. Have I mentioned that, or only hinted at it?

All in all, 4-2 final score would have wronged neither party; the same goes for a 4-3, a 3-3, or the slim, scrambling 3-2 win Portland managed in the end. By the same token, a 2-3 loss, or even a 2-2 draw would have written a reasonable script for what happened at Providence Park tonight. Not that I was there. I had offers, but I also had a schedule, but why am I bugging you with my problems? OK, while I’m here, I sometimes pass on going to games in person so I can better cut out the din (e.g., I’m an incorrigible people watcher, so, SO easily distracted). I can’t describe the amount of conversation that carried on over this game tonight; I can only tell you it was fine, welcome, even. Still, I probably missed some shit. I try to keep things real in this joint…

Jurgen Klinsmann's Hell: A Whole Team of Donovans

Whoa. Sign this guy.

I will try not to make this about U.S. Men's National Team (USMNT) head coach Jurgen Klinsmann. Because, basic, maybe unhinged, hostility. With that in mind, I'll just keep that portion of the post brief. Klinsmann's latest comments regarding U.S. players' lack of fitness and (manic) dedication is just this winter’s version of last summer’s “nasty” comments: bullshit, for starters, but it's more significant as evasion. Let players burn when they deserve it, of course...but does everyone honestly believe Klinsi hasn’t screwed his share of pooches over the past 3 1/2 years? Otherwise, y'know, shouldn't he raise his hand and start asking what he can do?

I could pile up grievances until they top the Portland, Oregon skyline, so I'll stop there with the bitching. Besides, no small number of visionaries and mad-method geniuses have made a regular practice of throwing colleagues, partners, assistants, employees and even friends under the bus. After all, it’s easier to preach gospel when the shit’s not sticking to you. Few enough frauds, however, can outrun truth or reality forever and Klinsmann has many highly-visible moments of truth ahead.

The U.S. will face Panama this Sunday in the last of the January Camp/Camp Struedel friendlies. What he does will be interesting and all, even if people say friendlies don’t matter, something I agree with, even if most of the time.* What’s on my mind today is the grand...hold it, The Grand Experiment of Jurgen Klinsmann’s tenure.

The U.S. Soccer Federation (USSF) hired Klinsmann to assume the daunting mantle of "transformative figure." My low opinion of Klinsmann is what it is, but I hereby applaud the balls it takes to say, "Yes, I am your fucking genius. You are welcome." The project itself has inherent value, too, because a team can't learn what it's capable of without trying new things. A least up to a certain point. Try something till you have to stop. Then, stop. Will Klinsmann see that? Sorry, another post for another day.

Klinsmann’s latest "artful" dodge dredged up a whole lot of thoughts about where the USMNT is today and where it's headed: the way fitness, once the USMNT'’s perennial ace-in-the-hole, suddenly became a problem under Klinsmann; how frequently our players look visibly uncomfortable operating under Jurgen's system; and, yes, the long run of crappy results. It's hard to avoid wondering where it's all going. And then you come across a tweet like this one after the Chile game:

"When #USMNT playing B Chile Team they're playing against decades of cultivated tactics/style, meanwhile U.S. at starting point of identity."

That's a random tweet in the grand scheme (by @DanielNyari; follow him on Twitter!; and sorry I'm too dumb to just embed; I'll learn, promise). Had I been able to watch even half of Chile v. U.S., I wouldn't have seen it; it's not my habit to check any given match-tracker, but there it was. And it’s been with me in the week or so since the final whistle blew in [city-name-here], Chile.

What if the U.S. has already discovered its identity? Could this be something larger, maybe a clash of cultures? It's an ironic problem on one level because Klinsmann's mindset taps into something very American: the belief in permanent progress, the idea/fantasy that some given thing can indefinitely rise upward. Then again, this is how we got No Child Left Behind. But that's only half of America: there are also the slackers, the hipsters, the artisans, the work-to-live not live-to-work lifestyle. Good honest citizens have worried for decades whether these hippies will cause us to succumb to Ivan (or “other foreign competitor”), so maybe they're out to turn the USMNT into a hacky-sack kick-around instead of the blood-and-iron war of Klinsmann's imagination.

Basically, it's not inconceivable that Klinsmann’s years-long bitching about MLS could actually speak to a uncomfortable truth about the American player. They might cherish Major League Soccer’s (MLS) old-shoe feel too much to strive for higher ground, or connections to family make stepping too far from American shores too much to bear. Or, to personify the theory, maybe Landon Donovan is the true talisman and North Star of the USMNT and U.S. soccer culture in general. Maybe they're all dreaming of Cambodia as we speak. Or, in more honest terms, maybe we do what we do, and play the way we play, because we like it. Or maybe our feet are just shaped wrong. Let's not pull anything off the table too soon....

So, there are some thoughts in there. Rolling in a big comfy bed with sweet indifference; hints of clashing culture; a celebration of the idea of just trying shit; a placeholder suggestion that the USSF might have been taken in by a silver-tongued con-artist: call it what you will, the Klinsmann era has given us a shit-ton to talk about. I have my thoughts on where it's going, but those can wait...

* In recent years, and for whatever reason, I started acting like friendlies don't matter - as in, I make extremely minimal efforts to watch them. That said, put together enough of the same kind of results – and Klinsmann has done this, without question (see: losses with highly repetitive patterns) – and you’ve got a sample that could very well mean something. It could mean everything, up to and including something straightforward as Jurgen being a lousy fit. I can't remember the last time I heard the argument in all honesty, but the idea that foreign coaches just "don't get the American player" was all the rage way back when.

MLS & the CBA: Power vs. Persuasion

Live your perfect life! NOW!!!

Those that have, get more. Or, them as has, gets.

Pick your phrase (and hit the links for curious explanations of each), but that seems a good place to start a discussion of the (quietly*) ongoing negotiations over the Collective Bargaining Agreement (CBA) that, ideally, will govern the system of compensation for players in Major League Soccer (MLS) for a long, long time. Can we get forever on this? On perfectly balanced terms? (*I say quietly because the latest articles I’m finding date back to last Sunday; this topic remains ongoing, people.)

Anyone who cares to probably knows the basics by now – e.g. that free agency and more equitable/sensible income distribution are the two key issues separating MLS and its owners from the MLS Player's Union (MLSPU). BigDSoccer provided a studiously neutral primer for the uninitiated, but, according to my reading/listening, most sources side with the MLSPU. And for pretty good reason...

MLS owners claim they're losing money. I believe that in broad terms - and not only because the $100 million per annum figure I keep hearing seems suspiciously round, but because of investments in infrastructure like youth academies, stadiums, and, of course, designated players (DPs). At the same time, even a basic understanding of corporate taxation in these United States supports the suspicion that the league and its owners can write-off plenty of said $100 million per annum. I'm highly confident that they do. But money lost is money lost...which is different than money one never sees. Like, oh, the players. Hence the sticking point.

An excerpt for an old-ish LA Times article put MLS wages in pretty useful context:

"The league, which is losing more than $100 million a year, insists the MSL salary cap will continue to grow. But under the old CBA, that growth was minimal. Last year, for example, teams could spend $3.1 million on the first 20 spots on their roster, excluding designated players, a jump of just $29,000 from 2011."

That same article squeezed a few quotes from Mark Abbott, league president and deputy commissioner, about how MLS's structure allows MLS to be "competitive" in the foreign market and, further, that it somehow allows for "greater investment in players every year." OK, but which players? Bob Foose might be hella biased (as MLSPU executive director), but he unpacked the logic of Abbott’s arguments and put them in a neat, little, slightly malodorous pile:

"...the system is designed to squeeze every single dollar they can possible squeeze out of the guys who are in the league so that they can then go use those dollars to speculate on players who are not in the league."

Left unanswered in all that: precisely how the league's structure accomplishes this. It's just a bald statement and, outside creating a big pool of money, I frankly don't see how it works. On a more fundamental level, this is less about players "who are not in the league" getting the big paydays, than it's about long-serving MLS players having too few mechanisms to attain bigger paydays for themselves, even as they are essential building blocks for both their respective teams and the league as a whole. Basically, MLS's labor structure incentivizes certain behaviors that I'm not sure pencil out anywhere but on the bottom line (see me grasping at/grappling with those idea here).

So, yeah, I'm firmly in the players' camp: the cap needs to go up, the league minimum definitely needs to go up, and the players should get some form of free agency. That's the baseline. At the same time, I’m starting to wrap my head around some subtleties.

One argument I've come across a couple times - literally twice - is that the league can't legally hold on to the salary cap outside a CBA/(maybe) single-entity arrangement. The basic idea is that, a CBA creates a party with enough power to sit opposite the ownership group without getting run over; I'll admit I understand this imperfectly, so feel free to read more here. So, that's the legal side, but practical/competitive stuff comes into play as well. The league's "super clubs" (Toronto FC, Seattle Sounders FC, and the Los Angeles Galaxy) have already shown a willingness to spend big and unevenly; add more desired locations against...less desired locations (not about to name names) and the league is likely to see a sorting of talent that will stealthily kill any meaningful sort of parity. MLS would finally be like Europe's biggest leagues (hurray!), but in a bad way (e.g. the same three to five clubs winning the title year after year after year). So, if the whole CBA thing is what it takes to keep a salary cap, I'm for it.

And yet free agency matters. It's the stuff of dignity, for starters. Players should not have to choose between leaving the country to work versus negotiating with what amounts to a nationally-/court-approved single employer. That goes double when said single employer employs a salary cap that barely meets cost-of-living increases, while simultaneously promoting such...uncomfortable growth in wealth inequality with the DP rule. We all know that Tim Cahill just left the league, but how many people think he was, literally, 100 times more valuable to his club, or even 50 times more valuable, than the squad player who shared the same locker room? (Arrived at that figure by taking Cahill’s reported $3.6 million salary and dividing it by a slightly rounded-down league minimum (e.g. $36,500 reduced to $36,000); not unreasonable...right?)

That gets to players getting paid better, which matters, even if it's not as straightforward. Even if this is how they make their living, these guys do get paid to play a game. And, in spite of some drawbacks, is a cool life. They get to follow their passion, like Oprah says they should, and see the world. Even if they fly coach, that's always going to be a draw. This speaks more to attracting employees/talent than income justice, but it bears noting. Players will come, but there has to be some sort of absolute floor for wages. Right?

The players have some things going for them, the more sympathetic (and cogent) argument chief among them. The owners and league, on the other hand, have the money. That means they have options, eating their losses and walking away among them. Can't imagine they'd do that, not with all that money on the table, but it seems like those that have shouldn't necessarily be the ones that get. It wouldn't hurt them to give a little more and to be a little more conscious of what their wage structure says to and about their employees.

A New Year, A New Soccer Blog

Eat it, you cocky little shit.

Different people respond to Major League Soccer's (MLS) offseason in different ways. Everyone else has their thing, no doubt, but I know exactly what I do every off-season. I start another MLS blog.

To paraphrase Troy McClure, you might remember me from such blogs as It's a Simple Game, Center Holds It, The Carey Talley Fan Club, and some blog that, even if I can't remember its damn name, still exists on Wordpress (it's something about five year plans, but google can't find it, so, neither can I). Each of these now-departed blogs – and, lo, they are legion – shared a defining trait: a hubristic belief that one man can cover both MLS and the U.S. domestic scene part-time. In a word, or rather, an outburst: HA! And, in the past, the gods did to hubris-bloated things what the gods always do - e.g. lay them low.

This latest attempt/incarnation, Cream of Soccer Ball, adopts more modest goals in the hopes of keeping the gods happy. This site’s offerings will feature one post per day, no more no less, about what strikes me as the single most interesting item out of the U.S. domestic soccer scene of the day gone by. It might be big, compelling, weird, funny, or just some little something that dropped out of my own ass: but it will be one item and one item only...

...OK, that and maybe an honorable mention or two that will receive no elaboration whatsoever. I mean none. Just a link and, "say, isn't this interesting?" then I move on. I mean, I can do that. Right?

So, yes, can I honor that goal? Well, if I don't, the odds of me killing this thing by, oh, June offers one of the safest bets you'll ever see; that's when I usually decide that there’s nothing left but to watch the rest of the MLS season, wait for the Los Angeles Galaxy to win it all, that sort of thing.

To close with some personal info, I post on Twitter as TheChairmanJeff (follow if you wanna!) where I fart out little tweets about life, books, politics, and, last but not least, my hometown Portland Timbers – i.e. the team to which I am very much married. And I mean "married" in every sense of that word.

Hoping for a long, strange journey, but expecting a one-way trip to the nearest brick wall...