Open for Biz-nass

I had the joy on Saturday of attending the first MLS game played in our cordial City of Brotherly Love. Needless to say, though I will continue, the occasion was extravagant and the liver's ability to contest with an untidy variety of adult beverages received a stern examination. When the final whistle was blown at That Place Where Jeffery Lurie Prints His Money, the Odyssey itself was rendered no more epic than a canoe journey across the Delaware River compared to the fury unleashed by the Union's very first Frenchman. (Actually, given the the natural acidity of the water, that canoe trip would be kinda epic). The Union won a dramatic 3-2 decision in their, to repeat –dramatic pause-- First. EVER. HOME. GAME. (At least until the next first home game in June).

With hindsight, here's what must be a record number of words written about a single Fox Soccer Channel telecast.

Christopher Sullivan, do not want. Hair and wind tangled, Sullivan can hardly cope with the not-gale force winds.

Another pregame interview with Danny Califf. Seems like a nice enough guy, but if he had an S.S.-themed sex tape come out, I'd be the least surprised one here. I shudder to think of the social circles that personal décor could grant entrance to. Just sayin'.

Red Bulls get their first road win in 27 games. That is just adorable. They finally got better than an F for effort.

Katie Witham, I don't care that you stammered or shook your head a lot. I don't.

Le Toux first off the bus. You tube had no response for my desire to hear DJ Jazzy Jeff and The Fresh Prince's "Charlie Mack (1st out of the Limo)". Sad, that.

Outdoor studio an inhospitable environment for FSC's impressively onsite coverage. Mother Nature is owning Sullivan's broadcast professionalism, at the moment.

Alejandro Moreno's experience highlighted, very excited and confident about his game...”manage the game”...????...Oh god, is he our Trent Dilfer?

Interview with D.C.'s Rodney Wallace. Skip.

Interview with his teammate, Santino Quaranta. He looks like what happens when a Menduo kid goes to prison for muling.

Interview from McFaddens with the SoB's HNiC. Congratulations to the founders, quite an achievement today. Biggest victory for fat white guys citywide since I dunno, the Wing Bowl?

Shots of the classless D.C. United fans banished to the rafters, the quicker to hang themselves from. Who says we aren't welcoming?

Califf “stood up like men”...on the D.C. supporters “I hope they're ready to get rocked”

DC United's hometown announcer calling the match. I don't think I'm gonna have happy things to say about this. No, no I won't. Also, as I edit this (hahahahaha), I am watching Jon Champion doing “play by play” for ESPN UK. Note to American commentators: Often, it's quite alright to just STFU and let the game happen. Really, pace yourselves, you're too far behind to try sprinting.

Those old school Philadelphia Fury shirts look pretty sweet. I wonder if Mitchell & Ness is carrying those yet.

Both teams exit the tunnel. It's so on.

From nearby Delaware, Joe Biden's rider for this public appearance was modest and appropriate: a glass of warm milk, and the Late Edition of the Evening Post. He does really push the drama of the National Anthem over the top though.

Walter Barr the honorary captain for the Philadelphia Union tonight. Assisted on USA's goal in their 1-0 victory over England in the 1950 World Cup.

STARTING XIs

Union: Seitz, Orozco, Califf, Arrieta, Harvey, Miglioranzi, Torres, Jacobson, Fred, Le Toux, Moreno

D.C.: Perkins, Talley, Jakovic, Peña, Wallace, Barklade, Morsink, Castillo, Quaranta, Pontius, Allsopp

Tragedy has Peter Nowak in the press box tonight. Jim Johnson, R.I.P., did some good work up there, too.

FIRST HALF

1' Jordan Harvey concedes the first ever throw in against the Union! These are our record books, and we'll make them as trivial as we like, thank you very much.

2' Torres picks a pocket and finds space. His accent is Colombian, Torres! Torres!

2' Enough about the pitch dimensions. We're not playing in the Spectrum ferchristsakes. Not that there's anything wrong with that, Kixx!

3' Peña reckless, flagrant tackle on Moreno, an injustice to be rectified in double time.

4' YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Torres' wonderfully curvaceous cross finds Le Toux's head attached to a fantastic run. Creates enough separation to drive a D.C. United bus through on its way back home. The game could not have begun any better for the Union XI. They are obviously keen to impress their new fans in their debut, and oblige their desires with sublime execution. 1-0 Good Guys.

5' Castillo's chance from distance fairly innocuous, but the way the defenders backed off there will be punished later. Must do the closing down with more haste.

6' The Union's Moreno hauled down as a hoofball arrives from a panicked Seitz. No call. That was a foul from where I was. I will differentiate between the two Morenos by just calling D.C.'s “Brownie.” That's fair.

7' Moreno excellently executes a textbook drop toe hold to halt D.C.'s momentum in his defensive end. He could be a luchador in the offseason.

8' Extremely late nip at Fred's heels.

9' ...Allowing Orozco's floating long ball to eventually land at Le Toux's left foot only to be blocked. Moreno and Le Toux's understanding is very good to see.

11' Casual discussion between the commentators on the MLS' mining of South American talent. Which when you think about it, would be reverse American globalization. Or maybe it wouldn't. But that's a big word, so who can really say?

12' Torres with another excellent delivery into the box, this time from a dead ball. No connection on the other line, but the Union's attacking qualities look bright. We all understand him though, Torres! Torres!

15' Peña off, not really touched with any aggressive contact, and doesn't look particularly injured. Julius James replaces.

15' Torres doing a very good job of tracking back and not giving D.C. any room to breathe. He can't go back to Medellin...

17' Califf with some typically physical defending, shivving a United forward in the back with his knee.

17' Le Toux's backheel for Moreno unfortunately results in a brutal tackle from behind. That should be red. Dangerous, no attempt to play the ball. He actually ends up taking out Moreno's knee with his hip, if that indicates how absurdly poor the challenge was.

20' Injury update on Peña, minor hamstring strain. That doesn't sound like gauchoing up to me.

24' Passive sparring between the two sides over the last ten minutes or so. No real threats or inventiveness on display. Le Toux and Moreno having a tea party outside the 18 yard box, but fail to find real sharpness...yet...

25' United's “most encouraging breakout” was really weak and nonthreatening...there is definitely a pattern detectable in D.C. sports.

26' Califf's headers and tackles dictating D.C.'s possibilities on offense, which are quite scarce at the moment. Danny's play is emblematic of the confidence displayed by the Union's shape when United has the ball.

28' Wow, I would like to see that again. It appears Alejandro Moreno has added a flying knee to his repertoire, at the expense of at Jakovic's chin. OH! Snap, he got sandwiched, and the deciding blow was dealt by his own teammate. I hope those two aren't locker buddies or that is going to be awkward. Jakovic's memory of the incident will be slight, though.

30' Camera catches a goober in a full Captain America costume. And people tell me all the time that I am embarrassing? Puh-leeze.

31' Torres does a good job of getting some kicks back without incurring a cautionary card. 'Cos all the chicas scream his name...

35' Another two footer from a United player on Fred, and Wallace is carded for his stupidity. He might have gotten the ball, but at the potential expense of Fred's career.

36' Califf with a clean, hard tackle that flattens the attacker but frees the ball.

37' Fred and Torres continue their South American connection in midfield, frustrating United's defensive efforts.

38' Le Toux does a fantastic job of extinguishing the United attack before it starts with a strong tackle in their defensive half.

40' PINCH ME I MUST BE DREAMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OK here we go. This was sweet. At 39:14, Arrieta clears the corner kick, finding Moreno posted up on his man at the midfield stripe, the ball arriving at 39:17. At 39:19, he sweeps the ball 40 yards diagonally to a streaking Le Toux, whose first touch at 39:21 gives him the room to blow by the three DC United defenders in my standard definition frame. Sometime between those two seconds, the whole crowd realizes what's on, and the noise rises as the fans get on their feet. Le Toux strikes the ball along the ground with supreme poise and composure. Before the second hand can tick again, the ball is past Perkins, but still a foot from the goal line. The celebration has already begun. The feeling you have when you know your team is about to score a goal in soccer is probably my favorite out of any emotion that sport can evoke. My thoughts at the time were probably more like “OMG OMG OMG DO IT DO IT DO IT HE DID IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” then handshakes and tongue kisses all around. 2-0 Good Guys.

41' Just breathtaking.

42' Moreno draws a card from Barklage, who was stranded at a distance too far from his settled position. United are shell shocked and weary.

43' Barklage follows up his weak defensive effort with a weak volley on net, comfortably handled by Seitz. Can't fault Barklage's consistency anyway.

44' Roger Torres releases the attacking play on the back of a great takeaway, and another tackle from behind has him on the ground, unable to even spectate the play following his ingenuity. Roger Torres, The Union's Number Twenty!

45' Miglioranzi goes to ground far too rashly for my liking. More aware or sinister players may have made a meal of that.

HALF TIME

The Union have to feel great about what they've done in the first half, appeasing the rabid home support in spectacular fashion. Their dominance has been comprehensive, and as I tried to make our section aware, “NOTHING CAN GO WRONG!”

Grisham flying solo on the half time desk. Pink Cows surrender one of the worst goals I've ever seen, including in the video game realm.

First day in MLS history with 8 games played. A real rogue's gallery of Philadelphia soccer history paraded on display for some apathetic casual fans attending, hopefully making up most of the 16,000+ that PPL Park won't have room for.

And we're back.

SECOND HALF

46' “Brownie” is on for United. I'll be kind and just call him low down, filthy, and sneaky.

48' James gets an Adidas logo stuck to his chin after a facial rejection of Jacobson's driven shot a far distance from Perkins' net, but not nearly as far from James' head.

51' Moreno's classy creativity allows the Union to play some really nice passes in the attacking third, ultimately earning a corner but precious little else. Torres' delivery into the box very positive again, though.

53' Jacobson's through pass via Montero's dummy springs a breakaway, but Le Toux's shot can only find Perkins' chest, and Philadelphia will eventually want to kick themselves for a change rather than their opponents for not burying United there.

56' The Sons of Ben applaud Talley's effort for United which lands several rows deep into their dedicated end zone section.

60' Wallace gets exactly what he wants from the show he puts on for the referee at the edge of the box, leaving his feet before making contact with a now yellow carded Arrieta's stationary leg.

61' Pontius' free kick lands in the SoB section, to rapturous reception. The volume from the crowd overall is slowly getting better, but it's clear that the supporters section will be a good influence no matter which end the Union are attacking.

63' UNMITIGATED DISASTER ARRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHHHH An unfortunately lazy pass by an otherwise industrious Orozco gifts United a life line back into the match. His deflection ensures that Quaranta's shot eludes Seitz at full stretch. Harvey's positioning to receive that pass also deserves questioning. If he is prepared to meet a pass as opposed to accept one, then he at least finds himself in a better position to do the right thing, which is to kick whatever part of Quaranta's body will fully stop his forward momentum. On repeated viewing, Harvey does not make an attempt to get his body in the way of any part of Quaranta's simple, not so swift run. Have we seen Harvey in this area before? Draw your own conclusions. 2-1 Good Guys.

63' Le Toux should have buried that chance a few minutes ago, although he will redeem himself in about 17 minutes. But 3-0 and it's time to kiss the baby, and now we must suffer a bit before the reckoning.

64' And then, there are two balls on the field for a moment. Oh God, no. Will this ever stop haunting me?

64' Morsink helps himself to a heaping handful of Fred's shirt, pulling him towards the ground with an almost romantic intention. The referee must have also observed this tenderness, which caused him to leave his whistle up his

65' Wallace is an embarrassing diver. Faced with two defenders, he belly flops to the floor and earns a free kick he should be shamed of. Cheaters never prosper.

66' Allsopp earns a yellow card for yet another meaty challenge from United's sour tarts, this time against Califf. That's probably not a smart strategy going forward, considering Califf's temperament without getting hacked.

68' The pace is beginning to pick up, again on the back of poor, apathetic passes by defenders, United's in this case. Moreno's quality opens up the defence again, but the Union can't capitalize on the proceeding corner. Torres' energy and endeavor is celebrated by the crowd as he exits the match, in favor of Shea Salinas, formerly of Earthquake Country.

70' OH NOEZZZZZZZ> Setiz is unsettled by Brown's Avery-like tactics, and ends up dropping the ball outside of the box, and simultaneously right at Brown's feet. Firstly, Chris, I demand you tuck in your shirt. That is emblematic of the problem you've just created for your team. I didn't like the look before, and now it just has to go. Secondly, by the Tuesday after the match, the MLS' officiating director will have stated that this goal should not have counted, as there are rules about attacking players interfering with a goalie attempting to punt the ball from his hands. So the so-so job the official had been doing up to this point just entered into scandalous incompetence. And thirdly, some United players' audacity to taunt the side of the field I was sitting on thankfully didn't end in my ejection for stumbling over the railing to insult their heritage, or something. And oh yeah: “NOTHING CAN GO WRONG!” 2-2.

73' Quaranta adds a yellow card to his tally for the evening, with a poor tackle on Salinas.

74' Le Toux's low cross finds Salinas, who smashed the ball top shelf but off the frame of the goal. I thought he scored for sure in person, but that could have been due to a slight degradation in spacial awareness and depth perception.

76' Jacobson's sweet aerial through ball finds Fred on his galloping horse, before Moreno just can't find a seam for his shot. Since the jerks got their jerky second goal, play has been very open at both ends of the Linc.

78' RED CARD!!!!!!! for Jakovic, who can have little to complain about after hauling down Moreno before he could get in one on one with Perkins. Free kick on the edge of the area, dead center.

80' JUSTICE IS SERVED!!!!!! I was always thankful for the Statue of Liberty, and now I have to applaud the French for the origin of the first hat trick I've ever seen at a soccer game in person. Le Toux stands over the ball, while both teams' players obscure most of his view of the net. He looks right, then left, then right, then finally down as he MAGISTERIALLY rips a low shot to his left and easily past Perkins' right. “IT'S IN THE NET! It's in the net!” Absolutely electric explosion from the now fully awake and elated masses. Le Toux jumps into the arms of his bench, while his head has surely found the clouds. He has written Le Legend in his first game for his home fans, while bearing a name that fits right in with Philadelphia's love of a player's name than can be made to sound like a “Boo.” Letoooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuuxxx. He'll give credit to his teammates for his outstanding play today, but the third belongs to him. What an individual effort.

81' At the game, this was an excruciatingly nerve wracking 15 minutes before the final whistle had blown. As previously stated, the experience of the Philadelphia fan from this point in a game is not always great.

85' The Union have been in shameless time-killing mode since taking the lead again. Never play prevent, never. United haven't really sniffed the Union goal since then either, though. The man advantage since the red card has certainly helped.

88' There is a slow roar building through the crowd. Victory is just a few torturous minutes away. I was watching between my fingers while squeezing my head with my scarf. Let it end, dear God just let it end.

90' The applause for Moreno doesn't match his contribution to the game. Fans, myself included, will grow to actively appreciate what he facilitates for his team. Four minutes of stoppage time added. I am going Artur crazy by now.

90' Possibly one last attempt here for United to get forward, but Quaranta's ball in from midfield is cleared and swept away in possession by the Union. Salinas quite happy to work the ball amongst himself in the corner, taking precious seconds off the clock.

.

90' Into the fourth minute now. United unable to reclaim possession. Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick.

AND LE BOOM GOES LE DYNAMITE! AND LE FIREWORKS!

Le Toux raises his arms in triumph and dominance, as many of his teammates run to the North End Zone to celebrate with the bouncing Sons of Ben. They came, they saw, and they ultimately conquered.

Next up, more reflections on the opener and a healthy skewer of Canada's only American city ahead of Thursday night's clash.

A (re?)New(ed) Rivalry

When one sits down to reflect on the sporting past between two historical and geographical rivals, one finds himself without much to say. In the spring of 2008, the Flyers and D.C.'s Capitals contested one of the all-time great first round playoff series, culminating in a Game 7 victory on the road for the Orange and Black. Beyond that, I have vague recollections of decimating the Redskins over the past decade, but their history with the Eagles from the 90s is better left forgotten.

But in this very week, that is all changing. The Eagles have shipped their often fearful quarterback to their divisional rival, and the Union finally get their hands on the Damned United.

So, with D.C. United rolling into town, leaving their four MLS Cups in some sad trophy case in a crack den reserved for the District's elite, the Union will be staring down their arch-rival. While most of the vitriol and ridicule has been reserved for the New York Red Bulls, and rightfully so, we, the supporters must summon the appropriate bile and hatred for what would be considered, in Eagles terms, “the gold standard.”

I have been to RFK Stadium. I don't think anyone would say it's anything nicer than a landfill. Its cavernous sadness echoes through the empty seats, the bitter remains of an American football team moved on to more lucrative pastures. I'm actually shocked it hasn't been knocked down. Are these statements what the MLS would want associated with its most decorated franchise? There are hopeful whispers in the Beltway corridor of building a dedicated facility, but our own cathedral will be opened and rocking before anyone in D.C. rubs two pennies together (coins, not the endearing nickname).

The glimpses of yesterday's pep rally I've seen were quite impressive. The fervor about town is at a true fever pitch for the tirelessly patient citywide support. And speaking of endearing, captain Danny Califf's comments to the fans would suggest that the physical tactics displayed in the franchise opener were not an accident. He related that D.C. United players could expect to see him standing over them. If I were little (which I'm not) and an immigrant (also no), and wearing a D.C. kit tomorrow (hell no), I'd be quicker releasing the ball than usual.

At present, I am probably a bit too excited to express properly the magnitude of today's occasion. THE VICE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERI-CA notwithstanding, of course.

As for the matter of today's match, expectations can be expressed in one word: desperation. The Union's young guns will be flying around, seeking to impress what will be a rabid and deafening home crowd for the first time. Between them, the two teams possess zero points, three losses, and a -8 goal differential. Despite Peter Nowak's dedication to a physical game, he will surely be anxious to provide his new employers with a modest goal haul and a result worth remembrance.

I anticipate the Union enjoying breathlessly loyal support, from what will be a sea of soccer ecstasy. It will feel like what it must feel like when Sting orgasms. All the energy and devotion that has been gathering for decades, appropriately harnessed in the past half decade, will flood down the aisles and onto the hopefully flawless playing surface.

Expect to see today:

A world class facility. A world class city. A world class franchise.

And finally,

A world class sport.

The Completely-American Rejects

I present my edited and embellished notes from Saturday's Clash of the Mega Powers for the amusement of all AUCU readers. When my predictions ended up being correct, you will notice I label them as unedited. If they were wrong, they were probably deleted.

To begin: one of the best Fan Zone quips I can recall, regarding Chelsea: “11 of the most despicable human beings on the planet.” Hey, that's “11 of the most expensive despicable human beings on the planet.” Corrected.

Mustoe, Healey, and Lalas man the desk for ESPN2's coverage.

Lalas: “I don't think this is the end all and be all...” Lalas is alluding to the hidden-from-the-public game of mahjong that decides the Premier League, as opposed to something as trivial in the final standings as today's match.

(Really?)

Derek Rae is doing live coverage for ESPN in America. Rae's authority as an ESPN UK correspondent on the scene, while the match isn't even being covered in the UK by ESPN. Corporate synergy I can get behind.

Rooney out, seemingly alone in a club box. The room has been stripped of any object more dangerous than a meat pie. I bet Rooney throws a good meat pie, though. The meat pies have been cooled as a result of heightened security.

Berbatov's stage is set. I am a big fan of his creativity and awareness, but also because he winds up a ManUre supporter I know. Berbatov manipulates opponents with his magnetic presence and deceptive first step pace. He will continue to exist in a time plane exactly .7 seconds ahead of his teammates, while his admirers await his return to our temporal space.

The pregame package also highlights Malouda as an unappreciated talent, a status lessened by his quality on display today in Stretford.

Today's match marks just Vidic and Ferdinand's 8th game together all season, which by their place in the standings, has actually been a good thing. Ferdinand's command of his game is not what it used to be, and Vidic's mind consequently works harder than it's probably meant to. Their current European predicament lies at their respective feet.

LINEUPS

Utd: Van der Saar, Neville, Ferdinand, Vidic, Evra, Fletcher, Scholes, Giggs, Valencia, Park, Berbatov (faraway gaze)

Chelski: Cech, Ferreira, Alex, Terry, Zhirkov, Deco, Mikel, Lampard, J. Cole, Malouda, Anelka

Drogba on the bench? Well never have I ever been so disappointed in you, Carlo.

United! Chelsea! Berbatov! Anelka! Not the clash the world has been waiting for, and it will be nothing short of dreary up top.

Rooney can barely watch, and in retrospect, for good reason.

Peter Drury and Efan Ekoku with the call on the international feed.

1' “All to play for, champions decided today” Agreed. The oceanwide disparity between American and British commentary neatly summed up by Ekoku's dramatic statement here, versus Lalas' dimwitted nonsense.

2' Malouda will break Neville. Believe that. (That has remained unedited.)

4' Berbatov dances a tango for one, spinning towards the end line brilliantly, while his ball into the six yard box is not met for desire by anyone in red. This lack of desire is personified by the lonely troll in a club box, obsessively stroking a ticket to Johannesburg used for pacification by his handlers, on loan today from the local simian habitat.

5' Here I made a vile comment about Gary Neville, which was in poor taste, but really funny. Trust me.

6' Ji-Sun “Rosa” Park. You're welcome.

8' Tight defending from England's new captain erases a bad giveaway by Fletcher. A lucky bounce saves Fletcher from being turned into an actual goat by an idly dangerous Rooney.

9' Advantage well played by Mike Dean to United. Valencia powers off Zhirkov and whips a cross to Dimitar who fails.

10' Berbatov's direction of the play is wizard-like, but he cannot sync to his teammates. Yet. (Actually, ever.)

14' Very tactical matchup (kinda boring)

14' Evra with a low effort, dealt with quietly by Cech. Decent buildup courtesy of Scholes' vision and Gigg's soft feet. They get older, but the balls stay the same age.

18' Chelsea playing keepaway in United's half for the better part of a minute, before Utd's really Old Guard forces a break in the play.

20' JOE COLE for Chelsea! Fantastic run by Malouda eats up every yard of the final third, taking Ferdinand and shrugging off Fletcher on his way to the touchline, before an instinctual cross finds Cole, who adeptly backheels Chelsea to an oh-so-precious lead. Class personified in Blue, if only for this moment. Cole's beautiful finish perfectly contrasted by Malouda's gallivanting dribble.

21' Rooney alleged to be ranting about cookies.

23' Berbatov's holdup stuff not happening for the Reds, unable to rise for the long ball after being repeatedly grounded by Chelsea's center backs.

26' Lots of nailbiting from Gibson and Macheda. I put that down to a lack of pillows at that end of the United bench.

26' Park's penalty appeal denied by Dean, rightfully so. That was very sneaky, Rosa.

27' Second glance, Zhirkov did get a sizable chunk of the thigh. Deany loves to give them too, doesn't he? 16 all year, twice as many as the next official. Prescient info shared by the commentator.

28' Scholesy gets a warning when a yellow card is much more suited to a tackler of his lowly reputation. Scandalous favoritism.

First 30 minutes, rather tepid, lukewarm, bland, unseasoned...except for that cheeky Cole goal. Much better occasion than match.

30' Anelka's tumble routine through United's defence would do a gymnast proud. Awakens from coma to no foul, flabbergasted.

31' Berbatov, used to stripping, not being stripped.

33' Chelsea traveling faithful with a clearly audible “U-S-A!” chant. Thanks for the shoutout!

34' Malouda marauds through United's center again, before Anelka RUINS EVERYTHING. Thanks for nothing.

35' Scholes gets a yellow a minute or two after the fact, for what can only be described as a standing drop kick, in the manner of a sports entertainer rather than a footballer.

37' Ashley Cole and Michael Essien in attendance. They are loving it while clearly sizing up the cheap local Manc tail.

39' United hardly a threat from the corner. Why couldn't Liverpool have played this team a couple weeks back????

40' Ekoku claims Chelsea's play as “controlled, mature.” Scarily, he's right. What on earth is going on with this Blue Side?

43' Jeez I really wish there was more to talk about.

44' Okay now here we go. At first look, it appears Berbatov was hacked down in the box by Lampard On second look, Lampard got away with one. And immediately following, Neville kicks through the back of Malouda, earning himself a seemingly desired yellow card.

46' Terry's tackle on Berbatov is obvious and Giggs' proceeding free kick is left hanging in the breeze to be cleared by Chelsea.

HALF TIME

Tense, awkward, and hopefully the slow half of a slow burn.

Derek Rae at half time from the sideline is so much win! Again, kudos to ESPN for delivering the goods.

Sir Alex says about “80%” of United's fans appreciate the talents of Berbatov. That ratio is simply backwards, by my own informal polls.

SECOND HALF

Expect a much more dynamic United side after a good hiding from SAF.

47' Neville misplays Scholes pass, extinguishes attack for wrong side. Useless yesterday, useless today, and useless tomorrow. Gary Neville!

47' I wouldn't let Gary Neville dress up as Captain Crunch, let alone captain my team.

48' Drogba warming up, applauding the number of scumbags per capita in Manchester. Quite at home in Stretford. If you like seeing officials get yelled at, Chelsea's about to pass out the lollipops.

48' The ball rolls harmlessly over the goal line as Ferreira's pass would've been better as a shot. Guilt-edged chance for Chelsea to throttle this game.

50' Scholes' visionary, classy switches continually negated by Neville's weak crosses and neanderthalic mindset.

51' United applying marginally more pressure in this half, but nothing resembling a chance. Berbatov is the loneliest Bulgarian striker in the world right now.

56' As Park attempts to reclaim the center of the attack area, a free kick is awarded about 25 yards from goal. Berbatov comically loses his footing on an equally comical offsides run from the set piece. Provocatively poor play from Glazer's lads.

58' Park tries to deliver the end product from the best United move of the match, and curls it 15 yards wide of Cech's goal. He couldn't hit that so poorly again if he tried. Serves him right for trying, I say.

60' Mike Dean abets Ferdinand's abuse of Anelka, a partner in the criminally physical defending. There were about 20 fouls in that 5 second sequence that I counted. 20!!!

61' Berbatov's header is inches wide from Giggs' cross. United getting closer, and looking more likely to break their disadvantage.

63' Hearty timewasting effort here by Cech, adjusting each piece of kit before sending the ball out of play at midfield. Couldn't have handled that better in FIFA 10 if I tried.

64' “Thorough” tackle by John Terry. He'll take the ball, then he'll take...

66' Berbatov's header misses the target. (I'm just going to copy this sentence to paste where needed).

68' Drogba getting prepped!! This game was just not scumbaggy enough. No Drogba or Ballack from the start.

70' Twenty minutes of voracious Drogbacity is all we are entitled to. Scoreless against United in his career. I can see that breaking before we're done here. (Unedited).

72' Macheda on for Rosa Park, Scholes off in favor of Nani. Nani's first touch results in a warmup dive and a Giggs free kick from an angle on the skirts of the 18.

73' Fletcher taps his forearm like a junkie, appealing for hand ball. Embarrassing theatricality.

73' Kalou on for Joe Cole, who surely impressed Fabio Capello and his translator.

74' Nani's poor cross in contrast to Scholes splendid distribution. All possession today similarly wasted by United. Angels have been getting their wings for a good 75 minutes today.

75' Frustration building for United as Macheda waits too long to deliver the ball through. It was around this time last year when the budding Italian forward storybooked his place in Manchester lure with a wonder goal as a débutante against Aston Villa, which in a year's time has become a mere footnote. I am really sorry about that too, Frederico. I am. Really.

76' Mikel playing make believe injury. Chelsea don't kick the ball out of play, so can't blame United for doing same.

78' Ballack disrobing on the bench. Another injection of bitterness and rage to the Chelsea side. BetPaddyLadsNow's scrolling odds on a Chelsea player screaming at the referee just taken down.

79' DROGBA!! Brings his class to the party, offsides but right on time for Chelsea's title hopes. The game sure is easier when that rule isn't enforced. A huge goal towards preserving Liverpool's stake in the title collection record. I predicted this broken duck.

81' Quickly answered by MACHEDA!!! A fortuitous deflection bounces off the chest before the guiding forearm. A goal Thierry Henry would proudly claim as his own.

82' Deco off for Ballack. It's about time Chelsea got a player on who can really get in to the referee's ear. And face. And throat. And windpipe.

82' Commentators astutely point out that this match is far from safe for the Blues. That goal was the will of the Red Devil himself, drawing the ball into his mouth full of hell fire. Justice done for Drogba's offsides, as well.

84' Lampard's directional accuracy slightly lacking. Wayne Rooney is alone for ten paces in every direction. I'd hate to be the flea or cockroach from Manchester to cross his sightline at this point.

85' No momentum capitalization by United from that freaky deaky goal.

86' One Darron off for a Darren as Gibson takes the field. Unlikely to make much of an impact.

88' The Chelsea faithful in full, audible voice with just a few minutes to go. If United are to find inspiration to complete a comeback, they'll have to do it without the help of the 75,000+ at Old Trafford, who are being shouted down by their oppositional minority.

90' I expect no more than three minutes of extra time. But this is OT, so probably 10. Rooney departs his suite, unable to watch as Berbatov subsequently squanders a clear chance at an equalizer.

91' Four more minutes called for. The United supporters can taste defeat. And it doesn't taste very good, now does it?

92' Goal kick from the generously awarded free kick for United. Giggs' delivery has been sad and sloppy all afternoon. He tries to direct traffic from the middle, to no practical reward.

93' United loaded with guns and a total lack of trigger pullers.

94' A free kick for United from just inside the half. Van der Saar joins the attack, as Cech claims the ball and perhaps the season's League trophy.

In the end, the match was a rather tedious affair, with few moments of class or imagination. Chelsea control their destiny, and for my meager money, should be tipped to preserve Liverpool's co-claim to the title record in England. By that standard, everyone goes home happy.

The Hungover

The Hungover aka The Rewatch

The night was March 25, 2010, a date, if not a night out, that I will not be forgetting for some time. At long last, our beloved Union took the field, and the Dark Horse Pub on Second Street played host to what was surely the most rabid collection of Union fans with excuses to not travel to Seattle, including this guy. Being both a huge fan of soccer and any reason to scream, Heaven died and came to me. I even have high definition evidence to prove it:

6ABC's Coverage of First Kick at the Dark Horse Pub

My roommate is the easily identifiable maniac in the Phillies t-shirt. I am to the right, pulling a Farley, unsure of the words and trying to shake the hair from my eyes. My on-camera interview was excised from the final program, I'm guessing down to my demeanor, appearance, and attitude. At least two of those three, anyway.

What followed is mostly a blur. Wound up on spirit, and spirits, I screamed, sang, ridiculed, mocked, insulted, and drank a bit more. For 90 minutes, supporting the team was the principal focus, with the actual match events mostly obscured by a combination fellow fanatics, brew, and an unwavering optimism that resides in a true supporter.

With an occasion this grand, it is only right to re-live the night, and turn the focus to the actual game that was played. A few days removed, here comes the pain:

First impression from the telecast: I don't hate Alexi Lalas anymore. (Don't worry, by halftime, I'm back on board the hate train. Choo Choo!) Or at least as much. Now that we've got an MLS team, I guess I'm just resigned to the fact that his analysis is now a part of my life. I still hold out hope for a trunk of hilarious props and anabolic steroids under that ESPN desk, though.

I really hope no one's making a documentary about Charlie Davies. I'm pretty sure his life story was already told on film. You most certainly CANNOT call him Mr. Glass.

Pregame with Danny Califf, showing off some decisive choices regarding the facial and cranial follicles. “We're different, and we're gonna be different...stick together...work like hell.” In retrospect, obvious code words for “intimidate foreigners and get a card before I get my first touch, from a clear off the ball shoulder tackle.” More on that in THE FIRST F*****G minute.

Who is the douchebag wearing the Chicago hoodie amongst the traveling Sons of Ben? Insert Visa commercial reference here. Looking a prat: Priceless.

Lalas quite prophetically raises doubts about goalkeeping. I'm already wavering on my acceptance of this malaka.

0' JP Dellacamera, the official broadcast voice of the Union, oughtta be rememberin' who signs some of his paychecks. He's joined by John Harkes, who totally sucks.

1' Montero goes down in the 20^th second under a playful nudge from Califf, earning the Union center back a yellow card in what has to be a record time for an expansion team. So we're already in the record book! Take that, Red Bulls!

3' Nowak chewing fiercely on...? My guess is whale blubber he fished out of Puget Sound with a butterfly knife and an angel's tears for bait.

6' Le Toux's first effort on goal as a Union representative soundly turned away by Mwanga? Mwhat just happened there, son?

6' Orozco unloads from distance and forces Keller into a tremendous save. If only he'd been so protective of his hair line.

8' Union keeping pressure up the field. NOTHING CAN GO WRONG.

10' Poor offsides call against Moreno on the near side. Bizarrely, now the Sounders supporters getting on the officials' case. They just hate a bad call, I guess. A lot to be respected in that. Well played, ECS.

Witness: The Curse of the Commentator, expertly executed:

John Harkes at the 11:18 mark: “It's a bright start for the Union side so far.”

20 Seconds Later @ 11:38: Sounders 1, Union 0

12' Evans puts the Sounders ahead after some silky smooth buildup play, the key thread pulled by Freddie Ljunberg, allowing Moreno to set the up the centerpiece on an all-too-rich move. That's how I had dreamed this game beginning, except, you know, the exact opposite.

15' Useless color man defends reckless tackle by Seattle's Alonso. No way Harkes is paired with Dellacamera on Union's local coverage. Not over my dead body.

16' Zakuani misses a sitter. At this moment, Drew Carey is chanting “SEX DUNGEON” while surrounded by puzzled Asian investors, who are still cheerfully puffing on Sounders-provided American Spirits.

18' Le Toux is HAULED DOWN BY HIS SHIRT IN THE BOX. A clear penalty not given. I find this officiating to be shallow and pedantic.

20' Jacobson blows a volley into the second level, where there are no fans to retrieve the ball. There is going to be one very confused Seahawks fan come the home opener in September.

23' Tony Stahl barely conceals the sniper's bullet which catches Ljunberg in the small of the back. Yellow card for obstruction of the referee's view? Harsh, but I guess I'm unfamiliar with the wrinkles of the MLS game.

25' More tedious, fruitless possession. If I wanted that, I'd be a Liverpool supporter...oh, wait, yup. (Wow, is that a “Smell my finger” celebration?)

26' Stahl covers Califf's ineffectiveness with a sliding clearance that could have gone just about anywhere. Just about anywhere is also where Drew Carey likes to be beaten by a Brazilian pre-op.

27' A series of poor decisions by the Union's Jordan Harvey allow Montero a crack at goal that ends up adrift. This is foreshadowing, a traditional literary device. See? SEE???

28' “35,000 singing strongly in Seattle.” That's not singing. That's reciting “Seattle Sounders” to the tune of “Darrrrrrrryl...Darrrrrrrrrryl.”

31' Ljunberg is nudged off the ball by Orozco in the box. Proceeds to moan to referee. Detecting a disturbing pattern of f**go*ry from the Sounders line leaders.

33' Torres spins through a few feeble challenges, allowing Le Toux to haplessly attempt to fashion a proper connection off the proceeding corner.

35' Torres' presence continues to impress, even as his creations fizzle out when unfortunately compromised by unable teammates.

38' Le Toux expects an earlier pass from Moreno as the Union's first would-be-goal is called back for offsides. I almost broke the chair I was standing on in the back of the pub. Actually, I pretty much did break the chair, and stood with my feet less than parallel to the ground for the rest of the match. I imagine the euphoric rush of a goal is enhanced ten fold by it counting towards the scoreline. Can't wait!

39' Ljunberg leads with the elbow, hunting Califf's mohawked head. A card not coming. Paul Allen's pockets undoubtedly deep enough for these officials. I am gonna blow the lid off this story. What is Donaghy in Spanish?

40' OH WELL WELL WELL here comes the red. Stahl gets a kick into the backside of an unfailingly dramatic Montero, collecting a second yellow and getting first dibs on the shower and post game spread. Under Nowak's meticulous management of all aspects of club culture, he is now tasked with slaughtering the calf for the team meal. (The blood on his hands to reflect the color of the card, obvious symbolism).

43' After a Ljunberg corner is cleared from the box, Harvey fails to step up, gifting Montero an onside position for a diving header, as clear for liftoff as the space between the Union left back's ears. 2-0 to the Bad Guys.

Mercifully, HALFTIME

Confidence and decision making, both offensive and defensive, are the factors between the two sides. Philadelphia certainly look capable of competing in the MLS, but they seem a bit nervy and overwhelmed by the noisy atmosphere. Seattle is shamelessly doing a much better job at conning the referee, while continuing to profit without dignity.

Lalas mentions the momentum turn after the first 10 or so minutes, but fails to point out the mush by Harkes which unbalanced the match and tampered space and time as destiny so clearly intended. Harkes is messing with powers he cannot possibly understand, and Lalas is clearly his minion. I am back to hating Lalas. Sweet, sweet hate.

That's twice Lalas has said “We're blowing it out here at ESPN.” I couldn't have said it better myself, twice, Alexi.

The Martin Tyler-narrated World Cup 2010 commercial jacks me way up.

Some non-threatening sludge metal accompanies a halftime montage filled with Drew Carey's boobs, a Sounders' cheerleader's boobs (no not the same thing), and more physical challenges than two jock families on Double Dare.

45' Mwanga is subbed off. I remember still drunkenly singing his name, well after being told he'd been replaced. I can't wait to see him playing up top, as it seems he absolutely should be doing. He was a bit of a lanky square peg abandoned to scrap in midfield.

48' Nowak's oral fixation noticeably startling. Having swallowed two hundred pounds of whale blubber during the first half, Nowak's moved on to aluminum foil. That's the first time I've ever seen blood act as a substitute for chapstick.

49' Harkes and Dellacamera shouting out the Sons of Ben. “They are fantastic.” Respek.

51' Seattle doggedly persists through the middle, allowing the disadvantaged Union side to stay in the competition. Drew Carey doggedly persists after the arena's condom dispenser, in anticipation of encountering something with the type of genitals you wouldn't have guessed on first glance.

53' Union hanging on to the ball but unable to cross midfield with possession in tact. A brief glimmer of attack is swallowed up by the water-slicked bush league field turf. BUSH LEAGUE.

55' Seitz rushes to challenge Evans' pursuit of the cultured through pass, resulting in a loose ball that is embarrassingly guided wide of an open net by Zakuani. Later, Alexi Lalas would verbally fell ate his efforts during the match. Because he's an idiot. And a jerk. And an idiot.

58' Sounders pour on the pressure, but the Union defense continues to absorb their harmless attacks. It is clear to anyone with a brain that this match is finished. Of course at the time I was singing, “We're gonnnnna winnnnn 3-2222222!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

59' A free kick from inside the half line sets up a long ball opportunity, which Le Toux picks up and promptly fails to convert. The Union are unlikely to create many more opportunities like that. And much more unlikely to convert them if they fall to Le Toux again. Not his night.

63' Myrie receives a decidedly deserved yellow tarjeta on account of a flying cross body check, more typical of a Samoan wearing full padding and a helmet. I loved that.

67' Union battling, but failing to keep the ball on the ground for more than a few touches at any given time. That sounds kind of dirty, but I can't quite figure out why. Oh yeah, Drew Carey's here! That's why.

70' Myrie marauds down the right flank, winning the Union a corner which is ultimately squandered by a lack of personnel, a minor lack in desire, and a major collective lack of oxygen.

74' More love for the Sons of Ben, which is nice, but the polite small talk underlies the undeniable reality: There is not much hope left in this game for lovers of attractive soccer.

77' Score, shmore, it's still awesome we have our own franchise. “3-2, 3-2, we're gonna win 3-2!”

79' Dellacamera again refers to the Sounders atonal droning as “singing.” He keeps using that word.

82' Sounders now taking limp pot shots. Ten man Union (that doesn't sound very good) showing expected signs of fatigue, understaffed and forced to chase the ball.

84' I will forgive all of Califf's clichéd tattoos if he gets a Tyson on his face. His head is already mostly shaved, perhaps in preparation for some sick ink, bro????

86' Jacobsen tries to pick out 17 year old substitute Jack McInerney's deft run with a ball over the top, which is sadly dealt with and promptly extinguished. The youngling's intent is evident, and his endeavor undeniable. Might have been useful from the off, I would think.

87' Moreno puts studs to Nyassi's calf and takes just a yellow card for his effort, leaving the door open to try that one again.

90' Le Toux receives the ball in the box, and with it: a severe case of ants-in-the-pants.

90' Three superfluous minutes of stoppage time added to an interminable second half. I will boycott analyzing those.

93' The referee mercifully denies the Sounders a penalty, and blows the final whistle. That was less fun sober, but just as interesting. “Less fun sober, but just as interesting: ZOLO” Put that on a t-shirt.

FULL TIME. Drew Carey's a sex pervert.

I regret to admit that I watched the post game coverage, but I feel obliged to comment. (*REALLY???)

Lalas' stupid face says that part of the local fan base will be applying pressure on our team to win, in a way which we are traditionally accustomed. But he confuses the Philadelphia sports fan with the Philadelphia soccer fan. A lot of us are glad to be a part of something bigger, something global, even if just in our own local bubble. There is precious little dissent amongst the faithful after a difficult opener. We will be here to greet them with open arms when they make their triumphant debut in little more than a week's time. We're sticking to the Union, Alexi. You're a jackass.

BONUS FEATURE

This is the part where I watch the rest of the MLS so you don't have to. Don't worry, I didn't watch much. Which puts me squarely in the market for teams like Kansas City and Columbus, whose attendance was far less than impressive at an extended glance.

Caught some of the Red Bull Arena “Grand” Opening. Guess what? When you're opening a new stadium, and I can SEE the Red Bull logo via the empty seats at midfield, you fail. Coloring a pattern in the seats is a risky proposition. Sure, it looks brilliant when you're taking a picture of the empty new cathedral. When there's a game on, though? Bring back Pele, NYC.

F Starbucks

"But I'm growin' hungry (growin' hungry)
I'm growin' hungry (growin' hungry)
I'm growin' hungry (growin' hungry)
I'm growin' hungry (growin' hungry)"

Temple of the Dog, 199-It's-A-Shame-These-2 Made It

Thank you, yes, I know what goes here.  The part where I laud Seattle for their resounding success in their MLS "expansion" season, after over a decade in American soccer's minor leagues.  Followed by this part, hoping we can replicate it - which we will, but only as a jumping off point towards the path on which we will carry soccer's torch in this country.

BUT they invented soccer in America, dontchaknow? 

Nope, I call shenanigans.

But oh, their tears shed in their Space Needles, they will cry, "The attendance!"  Pessimism or no, that building is half empty.  XBOX PITCH AT QWEST FIELD is exactly like the same field the Seahawks play on, except with no one upstairs, evoking all the atmosphere of Grandpa Carey's four inch toilet cushion made of foam and sadness: lots of action, and lots of echoing.  I will casually brush past the giddy irony of a stadium a few months behind schedule built for a team called the Union, as Lincoln Financial Field will play host to two "sold out," yet somehow half-empty unofficial warm-up matches before the grand opening of Chester's PPL Park.  

Killer kit sponsor aside, so many things feel so wrong.

That shade of green was popular in windbreaker fashions, around the time when Seattle's mopey-mopeyness poisoned early 90s pop culture with an initial rush of anti-euphoria by hypnotizing a nation, while bearing little but an earnest passion for flannel shirts and distortion pedals.  Such promising beginnings: The Pixies, Nirvana, Ken Griffey, Jr., Shawn Kemp, Shawn Kemp's illegitimates, Shawn Kemp's designated joint roller.

And what now!  What do we have to show for our evolution from that point?  Starbucks and the Oklahoma City Thunder.  I thought of all the things I know about Seattle and Washington state, to some extent, and here are my findings:

Stephen Lucey's A Brief History of Seattle

1970 Hendrix, Jimi
1990 Wood, Andrew
1994 Cobain, Kurt

1996 Al Donelly succeeds despite wild election fraud, not to mention repeatedly damaging interventions from his ne'er-do-well quite-morbidly obese brother, during the 1996 race for governor.  (KILL WHITEY)

2002 Staley, Layne

That's not as much bashing as they deserve, but I must move on.

Prediction:  Philadelphia Union 2, Seattle Sounders 0
(A little birdie whispered that the Union are 5/1 tonight.  Flip that sh*t, Larry)

The Union Forever

Money speaks for money, the Devil for his own
Who comes to speak for the skin and the bone?
What a comfort to the widow, a light to the child
There is power in a union!

Billy Bragg, "There Is Power In A Union"

Bragg's chune quoted here indicts evil and greed, while advocating the strength borne of solidarity and faith in brotherhood. The plight of the worker mirrors my plight as a lifelong Philly sports fan, on a familiarity with failure that only comes from defending the merits of Roman Cechmanek. I had tears in my eyes while listening to the 2008 WFC do their thing on that glorious night. I knew what a championship could feel like, but baseball is not really my Bud Light in a plastic bottle. So while I screamed my voice raw during the parade, and managed to sustain a fist-pumping related elbow injury (PRE-JERSEY SHORE) which still pops up to this day, I was never committed to the Phillies, and certainly not during their considerable lean years.

Refusal to acknowledge Comcast's terrorist-like ransoms for their sports channel has deprived me of Flyers coverage, left marooned in the digital wasteland, fighting off pornography and free prizes in search of a reliable illicit stream, if I could even be bothered anymore. I was appalled by the lifeless Flyers crowd at a recent home game against the Maple Laffs. It was so quiet you could hear a puck drop? Sorry, but until I get an editor, these things will keep happening.

Thankfully, my lifelong flirtation with soccer was finally consummated during the wondrously wild soccer orgy known as the Euro 2008 Finals. All the energy I previously spent following the NHL mutated into an obsession with futbol that a junkie would be proud of. Concurrently, the Sons of Ben, a grassroots supporters group based in the Delaware Valley, was seeing their dedication to a dream turn into something tangible. Not just a team, but a new dedicated stadium manifested in Chester, of all places. Surely stirs confidence in miraculous possibilities. Further entries here will extol the heroes whose dedication and irrational zeal forged the belief which has delivered us these riches.

I am excited for our beloved Union franchise in a way that only Borat has been able to express: very excite. If fanaticism carries any romance, we are all about to marry a virgin with none of the mess. I seek to share this gift and preach the Gospel of Zolo. For He so favored the City of Brotherly Love, that he has bestowed upon us the MLS' sixteenth franchise.

I am also prone to delusions of grandeur, wildly generous opinions of hometown talent, and ridiculous, insane expectations. Later, this will be redundant.

On April 10, 2010, Major League Soccer will experience the true class of a top tier sports city. But first:

So much to do
So much to see
So what's wrong with taking the back streets?

"All Star," Smash Mouth, 1999(?)

For the long dormant, but frothing at the mouth - if not frosting their mug - Philadelphia soccer fan, the patient wait for a true cause to support is all but over. There are many balls to be kicked by our players, and there will be many flares set off by yours truly. The bacterial passion has cultured, and all horizons are painted with greatness. The rotten stench of a lingering lockout has dispersed, and relocated back down to the stinky bridge near the South Philly sports complex.

Peter, Peter, Maneater

My personal expectations for the inaugural season are impossibly high, in no small part teased out by the quite-jocular-for-an-Eastern-European manager Peter Nowak's championship success in 1998 as a player with then-expansion side Chicago Fire. (LOL - that is a horrible, horrible name. Red Bulls now seems like a tasteful choice compared to the NY 9/11s. Further digression: that will hopefully be the last mildly pleasant remark regarding NYC in this blog. And it mentioned 9/11, so I don't feel horrible about it.)

Nowak's championship prowess continued in his first year as a manager, leading D.C. United (puke) to the MLS title in 2004. Flashforward six years, and he has the chance to continue his championship form in American soccer in a proper city, with a mayoral integrity second to no city named Washington, D.C.

The country at-large got a glimpse of the Philadelphia spirit during the Superdraft at the top of the new year, with the locals hauling away a rickshaw load of young talent from the Convention Center facility, located within spitting distance of Chinatown. Nowak illuminated FSC's poorly-lit presentation with easy charm.

"What are the biggest challenges of building a team from scratch? Where do you start: with defenders, midfielders, or attackers?"

"I start with the U-8 program..."

And this is how my affinity for Nowak, our very first commander-in-chief, was born. Even as the insipid questions from Fox Soccer Channel's callers-in and on-air talent continued to chip at Nowak's begrudging hospitality, his sharp humor and ambition were on full display at the Superdraft. (What's so super about the Superdraft?)

He is clearly in love with the challenge, and appreciates the fanaticism afforded by his new metropolitan home. Additional superficial impressions include an infectious enthusiasm, as well as the cool demeanor of a benevolent dictator. I imagine a Ken Hitchcock raised on cabbage instead of Tim Horton's.

Nowak has a chance to step into the personality vacuum currently present in the Philadelphia coaching scene. Charlie Manuel has a seemingly bottomless cache of "aw shucks" and simple wisdoms, as well as, most importantly, a ring to be worshiped. Mormon Santa doesn't like sharing anything with anyone. My informal poll of no one suggests that the average Philadelphian would struggle naming the coaches of the professional occupants of the Your Bank Here Center (Actual arena not pictured).

He and the Union will face a relatively weakened battle for attention from the local bigs. The Phillies zeitgeist is perhaps at its most feverish annual pitch, closing in on selling out every single seat before the season's begun. However, the usual preseason Eagles buzz will be more of a dull rattle, given the steadfast maintenance of the unpopular status quo, paired with their completely impotent playoff exit to their most despised foe. I doubt the Union will make much, if any traction on local sports talk radio, but their television deal with 6abc will be very effective towards establishing a respectable place as a legitimate fifth sporting option.

Next up, we will look at our first opposition, and take a deep, deep breath.