America loses, I win

I wrote nearly this exact diatribe about a year ago for a blog much more relevant than the one it exists on now. Unfortunately, the editor of that blog decided, for reasons unclear to sensible people, to remove much of the content, including this post. In honor of the World Cup finale tomorrow, I have decided to re-post it here, with minor changes. Enjoy ... and long live baseball.


Is there anything worse than the large portions of America that, once every couple of years (but with alarmingly growing frequency) act like soccer actually matters? Well, if you're the author of an incredibly infrequently updated blog like, say, the one you're reading ... then no. Why do you hate soccer so much, someone who's not paying attention might ask? Well, let me tell you.

I hate soccer because it's a "sport" that makes no sense. 99% of the game is spent with roughly a .000001% chance of scoring on any given possession. Apparently, the founders of soccer thought this would be offset nicely, and not at all abruptly, by the institution of the penalty kick - a situation where there's roughly a 90% chance of scoring. Middle grounds and compromises must not have been popular in mid-1800s Europe.

I also hate the fact that the founders seemed to find some moral ineptitude in utilizing 2 of the 5 most useful appendages on the male body (arms). This must be the case, otherwise there wouldn't be such stark penalties for touching the ball with your arms, or for touching others when the refs buy the embarrassing display that is the subsequent flop.

This leads me to one of the two most important reasons I hate soccer - it has caused significant and, I fear, irreparable harm to a real sport... basketball. See, the influx of European players has brought with them the intolerable, yet consistently successful, tendency of flopping. Vlade Divac was the first master of this cowardly art. While American-born players have picked up the trade, it's still being most despicably demonstrated by players who come from soccer-loving countries (see: Manu Ginobili - Argentina). The fact that a child's recreation that Europeans take seriously could actually influence a legitimate sport is repulsing, and it makes me embarrassed of my culture.

The second most important reason I don't support soccer is that it gives hipsters, yuppies, and the entire population of Portland one more avenue through which to turn their noses up to the rest of us. See, whenever the U.S. is doing well in a multi-national soccer event, the sports world in this country likes to throw soccer a bone and pretend it matters. This is spurred on by the aforementioned segments of the population once again trying (and, in this case, partly succeeding) to convince the American population that Europe is more culturally advanced. "Soccer is the most popular sport in the world," the hipster says, "Americans just aren't progressive enough to appreciate the game."

No. The rest of the world likes soccer because the three best sports haven't quite latched on there, namely because their inhabitants weren't smart enough to come up with them. Football, basketball, baseball. All were invented in America, and all are superior to soccer. The fact that other countries didn't invent them has, not surprisingly, prevented them from rightfully supplanting soccer as the more popular sports. This phenomenon is not unique to soccer, or even Europeans. Afterall, this nation still drinks Budweiser like it's water, despite the existence of far superior foreign beers.

So, all in all, soccer still isn't enough of a blip on the radar to really disturb my life. I'm still going to sleep soundly tonight knowing that, thanks to Ghana, this nation has once again forgotten about soccer and moved on to more grown-up activities, like Major League Baseball, NBA offseason movement, NFL pre-season, and drinking ourselves silly as we celebrated the birth of the greatest nation on Earth.

Rachel Getting Married

Boredom and annoyance, particularly when combined, lead to about 95% of the motivation for any blog post here at SA (The other 5% breaks down as follows: 2% self-adulation, 2% self-loathing, 1% gin). Since those powers combined tonight, I present you this brief review of the indie-tastic drama, Rachel Getting Married

(By the way, I know this movie came out over a year ago. Give me a break. I'm in law school, and I'm from Mississippi ... two good reasons to be a little behind).

Firstly, I must say that I'm really no fan of the Robert Altman-like, cinema verite, "tripods are for amateurs" style of cinematography. Call me old-fashioned, but I don't expect a feature film to have the look of being shot with cameramen plucked from my Intro to Broadcasting class. There were even a few scenes that were supposed to represent the perspective of the guy who was always filming everything on his consumer camera, and there was NO discernible difference between these shots and the others, other than lighting/contrast issues.

Also, I'm very pro interracial marriage (I hope to be party to one someday -- it's the only way my desired baby names will fly), but this ceremony was just ridiculous. A white-black marriage with an Indian theme, an Asian dance ritual, and featuring influences from at least 3 non-Western religious/spiritual movements. Is there any way an upper-middle class white woman, who's a doctor-to-be, can really be that Bohemian? Come on. My diversity lobe is exploding.

I'm not really sure why Anne Hathaway was nominated for awards for this performance. I didn't think there was anything special about the way she portrayed her character.

There were two scenes, in particular, where the writing and acting really pissed me off. The first was the first scene where we see Rachel and Kym ("You're not boxing me in, traditional spelling!") interact, when they're telling the story about their friend's stupid fantasy. The second was the "loading the dishwasher competition" scene. Both of these featured dialogue that was screaming to be believed, but just couldn't. "See, we're doing it how people normally interact .... right?" The problem is that this comes across every bit as forced and phony as the "I speak, you speak, and all in complete sentences" formula that plagues mainstream film and television.

To be fair, the film's probably worth a look. It provides a very real feeling of a family that has some serious issues, but does love one another, and that can be hard to find (but not for lack of trying). The scene where Rachel finally vents all her frustration with her just-out-of-rehab sister feels genuine.

Still, though, I can't help but think I just sat through a lecture on how films and progressive families are supposed to be. My response is the same as I gave an elderly man who recently told me he knew of a better way of tying shoes -- thanks, but I already got a handle on it.