Radical Transparency

(in case the other blogs need a friend)

A Combination of Acting, Lying, Begging, and Cheating

But flopping in soccer is a problem. Flopping is essentially a combination of acting, lying, begging, and cheating, and these four behaviors make for an unappealing mix. The sheer theatricality of flopping is distasteful, as is the slow-motion way the chicanery unfolds. First there will be some incidental contact, and then there will be a long moment—enough to allow you to go and wash the car and return—after the contact and before the flopper decides to flop. When you've returned from washing the car and around the time you're making yourself a mini-bagel grilled cheese, the flopper will be leaping forward, his mouth Munch-wide and oval, bracing himself for contact with the earth beneath him. But this is just the beginning. Go and do the grocery shopping and perhaps open a new money-market account at the bank, and when you return, our flopper will still be on the ground, holding his shin, his head thrown back in mock-agony. It's disgusting, all of it, particularly because, just as all of this fakery takes a good deal of time and melodrama to put over, the next step is so fast that special cameras are needed to capture it. Once the referees have decided either to issue a penalty or not to our Fakey McChumpland, he will jump up, suddenly and spectacularly uninjured—excelsior!—and will kick the ball over to his teammate and move on.

That's Dave Eggers, four years ago, in an article explaining why Americans have yet to (and quite likely won't ever) fall in love with soccer.

I missed the article in 2006. I was in Beijing, eating popsicles, sprinting shirt- and shoe-less through flooding alleys to rescue a lost taxi cab, muting the painfully repetitive Chinese commentators in favor of Mos Def or Sim Redmond Band, and realizing that it's a beautiful thing to be somewhere other than the United States for the world's greatest sporting event.

This year I'm here, though. In LA. And very excited for tomorrow morning. South Africa vs Mexico kicks it off. At 630am.

Thank you, Slate, for republishing the Eggers. And thank you, China, for making me a soccer fan.

Objectively High Cheese

I found out today that David Murphy, the Philadelphia Daily News sportswriter whose Phillies blog I've been reading this season, doesn't root for the team.

He grew up a fan, but he doesn't feel right, as a professional journalist, wanting the Phillies to win.

I'm a little bit shocked. And sad. And jealous that I don't get paid to write about the Phillies every day.

So I poked around the internets a bit, kicked the tires on a couple of other Phils blogs (something I've never done before, which surprises me), and subscribed to Beerleaguer.

It'll be fun to compare.

And Left the People Running for the Hills

What impressed Giuls most about last night's show was Ween's ability to wear an audience down.

I'm pretty sure that wouldn't be a compliment to any other band.

Transdermal Celebration is track 3 on Quebec.

(download)

The Bottom of the Ninth Rule

[I originally posted the text and video below on April 18. Formatting got funky. I had to call in the Posterous founders. They found a bug and killed it. We celebrated. And then, a few days ago, after making another Phillies video, I noticed that the ninth inning rule post had disappeared. So here we are.]

By far the most important blog post I've ever made was a video response to the Phillies winning the 2008 World Series.

Here's a video response to my first game of the 2009 season...

The Cowboys

A bit of a silly conversation started on Ta-Nehisi Coates's blog the other day when he mentioned the fact that he's a Dallas Cowboys fan.

I commented, asking for an explanation, and, today, he responded, sparking a beauty of a comment thread.

After trying to imagine growing up without lovable home teams and reading TNC's explanation, I respect his love for the Cowboys.  I don't like it.  But I'm ok with it.  I think it's real, and I think real love for a team is something to celebrate.

Which reminds me of something one of my cousins said as we wandered around the ballpark before going in for Game 4 of the World Series.

Everyone was wearing red and chanting and singing for the Phils, and one of us noted the fact that it couldn't possibly be like it was in Philly in Tampa Bay.  Fans were probably way into it, but some of those fans were Phils fans, and that makes for a totally different dynamic.  There's tension there.  Home vs. Away.  Red vs. Blue.

In Philly there wasn't tension.  We were all Home, all Red, all Good Guys.  No Bad Guys would have come close to that pregame party.

And then came the observation.

We shouldn't be celebrating our exclusivity.  We should love the fact that there's no anger in the pregame crowd, but we should welcome Tampa Bay fans.  We should be excited to have rival fans in the house.  We should party together before the game.  We should make fun of each other during the game.  And we should party together again after the game.

We should be able to celebrate our losses as wins for other fans.

And that's a pretty powerful thought.  Mature.  Idealistic.  Symbolic of way more than professional sports.  And powerful.

Not an easy one to put into practice, however.  Certainly not in Philadelphia.  And certainly not when it pertains to the Dallas Cowboys.  But worth keeping in mind regardless.