The greatest thing about soccer in America is the team names. I love the singularity of the names and branding of the original Major League Soccer teams. As one travels down the soccer pyramid, the names get even better. My personal favorite was my brother’s U-8 team, The Little Bebetos. It was explained to the kids […]Read more "The Little Bebetos"
My parents never allowed me and my brother to have gaming systems, but they were early adopters of personal computers. Why there was a distinction between playing a video game on a Sega and playing a video game on a PC, I’ll never know. Naturally, when my brother and I got FIFA ’98, we spent […]Read more "The EPL Sorting Hat"
When I turned 12, something wonderful happened: for the first time in my short soccer career, I had a coach that wasn’t some poor dad that was suckered into providing after school care for a bunch of pre-people. He also happened to know the game well and, looking back on it now, wanted to mould […]Read more "The Terrible Fitba Club"
One of the main reasons I decided to start writing here was to put down some of the thoughts I had about being a father and soccer fan. Becoming a dad has been the most overwhelming experience of my life. I cried a lot. It was so overwhelming I didn’t watch a full 90 minute […]Read more "Fathers and Sons"
When I decided to sit down and begin writing about the Odyssean experience of following soccer in America, I had to figure out where to start. Like millions of other Americans, I began playing youth soccer, but my first experience with the wider culture of soccer was the 1994 World Cup in America, specifically USA […]Read more "History and Memory featuring Eric Wynalda and Tab Ramos"