One of the simultaneously great and awful things about being a soccer fan in the US is that the games are on early Saturday morning. Matches from England and Germany have replaced Captain Nintendo and Saved by the Bell in my life. I wake up, make coffee and settle down in front of the TV to watch a game taking place in a different country, featuring players from all over the world (though rarely the US). I’ll sit there from 745 until — on some glorious Saturdays — 4 or 5, taking in not only matches from...
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Mea Copa – Group B
Yesterday, I wrote about the incomprehensible moments of success amidst the drudgery of failure that make up a game of soccer (or baseball, it’s very difficult for me to separate the two games, which is its own incomprehensible moment). And, indeed, those moments make for transcendent moments, when strangers will leap from their chairs and embrace a stranger, simply because they happen to also be standing. Case in point: In October 2007, Spurs and Aston Villa played a match in which Spurs went down 4-1. It was a Wednesday afternoon match in Boston, so I was at...
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I have been told that some folks (which can only mean, like, 3 people I don’t live with) miss my postings. I have been remiss — blame poor educational services in US urban areas — and plan to make this up with more than quick hit videos. Therefore, beginning this very moment, and continuing every workday (various deities permitting) through next week, you\’ll get a short post on one of the groups in the upcoming World Cup.* I’ll try to talk about every team, but I’ll admit, I don’t know much about half these squads. If they...
Continue reading...“The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave.”
It’s like bringin a knife to a gunfight, pen to a testYour chest in the line of fire witcha thin-ass vestYou bringin them Boyz II Men, HOW them boys gon’ win? – Jay-Z, The Takeover When I moved to Boston, I lived in East Somerville. It’s a working class neighborhood full of Brazilians and Portuguese, and in any other soccer story, any other match preview, I might write about the sounds and sights of East Somerville in June 2006. But this is a story about tomorrow’s match, the first US match of this World Cup, against England. So it’s...
Continue reading...Things I Drink and So Should You: The Mint Julep
There’s a woman in my church who wears a proper church crown. I call it that because it deserves the name. It’s a royal blue, straw hat with plastic sunflowers emanating from the brim. She wears it proud, as each year of the 93 she’s been alive has earned her the right to wear it, and nothing could take that crown from her head. I wish we lived in an era where it were not only appropriate but fashionable for women to wear church crowns. Hell, as a pastor, I wish it were fashionable for women to...
Continue reading...Things I Drink And So Should You: The Bloody Mary
I was on vacation all week, which was fantastic. I watched the marathon on Monday, went on a date with my wonderful wife in the middle of the week, caught up on reading and sleep, and, sadly, discovered that I am not as hangover-proof as I thought. I have simple rules to prevent hangovers, and they are generally effective and easy to implement. But when I have nothing to do the next day, actually going through those motions doesn’t seem quite so urgent and I let them slide. It was at this point that I discovered I...
Continue reading...Things I Drink And So Should You: Lager
There’s something about springtime that compels me to remember my youth. It’s remarkably hackneyed to have these remembrances, and I try to shove them off, knowing that they’re empty, knowing that they’re shells of memories that ought to be tinged with a sadness of what’s been lost. In the end, I fight off that urge to remember the whole and embrace the part that my mind asks me to recapture. I throw off the fringes of the memory that taint the innocence of the image I hold in my head. I remember Sunday mornings with my mother,...
Continue reading...Things I Drink And So Should You: The Manhattan
As this is posted, yours truly will be about to board the world’s greatest conveyance: the train. When you ride in a car, especially if you’re driving — and I always am, since I’m a control freak* — you’re worried about the car in the lane next to you, or the one oncoming, or the deer/pedestrian/deer-pedestrian about to veer into your path. In a plane, you never have the feeling of traveling, but rather of being transported from one location to another, without ever having had any interaction with the miles between. I hate that. I love...
Continue reading..."Where Did All These Baseball Players Come From?"
The 2010 Major League Baseball season will be upon us in a few hours. As one of the few sports fans in the country who opts not to follow the NFL through the cold and lonely winter, I remind myself that it’s not interminable by keeping up with the off-season moves of all 30 clubs. Since you likely don’t, here then are 30 haiku to get you ready: Arizona Diamondbacks: Still full of promise Like a gift left unopened Unlike Webb’s shoulder Atlanta Braves: 90s run is over Only Chipper can tell tales No new ones this...
Continue reading...Things I Drink And So Should You: The Charles River Highball
It is Easter weekend, which is about the busiest my calendar gets every year. I have hardly had time to breathe this week, let alone read this blog, never mind contribute. The craziness of my schedule has even prevented me from doing that which I love most: watch sports and drink. And that all ends Sunday afternoon. Every Easter, I throw a Resurrection Barbecue, where we throw some ham on the grill, dressed in our Sunday best, drinking beer and, more importantly, breaking out the greatest summer drink you\’ve never had: The Charles River Highball. The Charles...
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