They’re here, they’re there, they’re _____ everywhere!
Last week, Manchester City continued its quest to take over the world in New York’s Chinatown. A host of City players, including Kolo Toure, Wayne Bridge, Emmanuel Adebayor, Micah Richards, Joe Hart, and Shaun Wright-Phillips, broke out in a game of pick up soccer much to the pleasure of the handful of City supporters and curious bystanders.
While gasps of, “Oh my God, that’s [fill in overpaid player's name],” echoed amongst the spectators, only a few feet away, New York residents were sitting on benches, playing basketball, and picking their noses, oblivious to the fact that one-third of this year’s best baby momma drama was playing soccer just steps away.
Not to be shown up, only a few hours later, Manchester United decided to roll into town. Partnering with Hublot and UNICEF, United set up shop at the intersection of 23rd Street and Broadway, right in front of New York’s famous Flatiron Building. The game? A sophisticated kick the ball through a hole contest. It was as mesmerizing as it sounds, but the idea was to raise money for UNICEF, which isn’t a horrible idea. It was far from an amazing spectacle, but there was plenty of unintentional entertainment to be found if you were looking.
The first black SUV arrived an hour late carrying Edwin Van der Sar, Ryan Giggs, Paul Scholes and Darren Fletcher. I was pretty confident that I also spied John O’Shea jump out of the SUV and run off into traffic, which was surprising since he’s not run-into-traffic bad.
The players were immediately shepherded into the VIP section where the lemonade was flowing. Security was clearing sidewalks, telling folks in the street to keep it moving, while letting everyone who looked vaguely important or walked with a purpose into the VIP areas. Since I don’t look vaguely important, I walked with a purpose and was soon standing in front of Ryan Giggs.
I began telling Giggs a story about how a regiment of 5 Hour Energy and periodic use of the Shake Weight can prolong his career. But Giggs apparently isn’t open to new ideas. His loss. Then I decided to hit him with a story about the origins of the Nation of Islam, offering to get him a taste of bean pie, one of the few types of pies that are virtually impossible to find in Manchester. Again, he didn’t bite, so I decided to fall back and do what I do best, people watch.
Grown men were losing it, excited to finally be so close to their mid-life man crushes. But it wasn’t just the men who were losing it. A young lady in business attire looked towards Giggs as if he was Scientology and she was Tom Cruise (the couch-jumping actor, not the Arsenal player). She was hardly able to contain herself. She bolted towards the United star yelling, “Oh my God, is that free lemonade?” passing Giggs in mid-question, moving decisively towards a tray of refreshing beverages.
Sure, Giggs is good, but her question did make me wonder if Giggs is as good as lemonade. But perhaps more relevant to soccer’s place in American life, the lemonade lady’s seemingly disoriented state raised a particularly challenging question: How do we define a soccer landscape that is marked by both fanatcism and complete ignorance and indifference?
Last Thursday, we had two teams from Manchester flirting with the American public and Thierry Henry’s MLS debut. Without question, that was a special day for American soccer. It was a day marked by obsession and ignorance. A day for international superstars to bask in both love and anonymity in a way that is uniquely possible in the United States. A 25 year old, claiming he’s been a United fan for 20 years, since the days of Mark Hughes, inches away from a young lady who is much more impressed by lemonade than Ryan Giggs. A young, American woman able to pick Joe Hart and Shaun Wright-Phillips out of a crowd, several feet away from a guy who would rather pick his nose while watching a horribly awkward 3 v 2 pick up basketball game where 4 out of the 5 “players” preferred jeans to shorts. It’s hard to define soccer fan culture when you’re dealing with such polar realities.
But that really explains where we are, doesn’t it? The American public as a whole doesn’t yet love soccer, but the game is still far from anonymous. Millions of Americans know nothing about our visitors from Manchester, yet the Americn Youth Soccer Organization has more registered players than any other organized youth sport in the United States. Although everyone involved in the game is not a fanatic, it is hard to ignore that the game is everywhere and the fan base is growing.
Rather than debate whether we’ve arrived, it might be worthwhile to simply enjoy the moment. We’re at a point where the simple fact that someone likes soccer is reason enough to give them a chance to be your new friend. The same principle does not apply to American football, baseball or basketball. If someone tells you that they are an American football fan, your first instinct probably isn’t to figure out when you can watch a game together or to learn more about where they watch their games. We’re still at a stage where soccer has unique fraternal qualities distinct from other mainstream American sports. We’re still at a stage where most of our domestic “stars” are approachable. In fact, most of soccer’s global stars are much more approachable when in the United States than in almost every other country in the world, a phenomenon that we can likely trace to the relative anonymity that many of these players can find only in America.
We’ve got something special here. Let’s not be so hasty to get to the next stage of popularity that we forget to appreciate what we have now. Let’s take time to appreciate the fact that some people still really love lemonade. Maybe we shouldn’t be in such a rush for people to recognize Ryan Giggs if it means we can have a few more moments to enjoy his company without swarms of purring onlookers.
Which brings me back to the beginning. How do you explain the American audience?
We’re fanatics and lemonade drinkers. The fanatics are the foundation and the lemonade drinkers walk around the foundation oblivious to its existence. We co-exist without really bothering one another, leaving each other to focus on our respective interests, soccer and lemonade. We should really focus on enjoying this harmonious state while we can because it won’t be long until we get this soccer thing right. And when that happens, watch out for people spilling lemonade all over your soccer.
Follow Nutmeg Radio on Twitter and Facebook!
