Anti-soccer blog post
- Thread starter bbgun
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Bob Sacamano
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bbgun;3435407 said:
And it's just a re-run of previous soccer fan boys vs. soccer hater threads.
Bigdog
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People may think soccer sucks but man does it bring in a lot of money- more than any other sport. For example last year Super Bowl, Vegas took $78 million worth of bets; 2006 World Cup $1.2 billion worth of bets. Also 4 out of the top 10 profitable sports franchise are soccer clubs and 3 of them are in the top five. There was only 2 pro football teams, 2 pro baseball teams, and 2 pro basketball teams according Forbes magazine. Just saying that if you are a businessman, soccer sure does generate alot of revenue.
The Ominous
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As an NFL fan, Soccer is just legless dummies trying to punch a coconut.
Doomsday101
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After talking with Hos for so long it is understandable why he would not like a sport played by nothing but kickers. 
Yeagermeister
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Doomsday101;3435509 said:After talking with Hos for so long it is understandable why he would not like a sport played by nothing but kickers.
/thread
Temo
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I'm a huge soccer fan, but this is just funny, and I figured some of you would enjoy it:
Soccer Officially Announces It is Gay
Soccer Officially Announces It is Gay
DemonBlood
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tecolote;3435235 said:
Ronaldinho sucks. Inter Milan>AC Milan.
Coy
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I think this is a good read, specially for the exact arguments that have been made in this thread, and it`s written by none other than NFL`s own Peter King in his MMQB World Cup Edition.
I really don`t care if everybody here hates soccer, everyone is entitled to their own opinion and I truly respect that, I just think you could find this article interesting from an avid NFL FAN.
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/20..._king/06/17/south.africa/index.html?eref=sihp
JOHANNESBURG, South Africa -- On Sunday evening, with the temperature dropping into the high forties in the Tony Melrose Arch section of this teeming city, I followed four wafer-thin black men through a ritzy outdoor mall. These men were about 25, and about 5-foot-8. They might have weighed 100 pounds. All four carried sturdy brown walking sticks. They wore brown flat sandals and leather loin coverings that I'd best describe as mini-skirts. And that's all they wore.
The four talked in their native tongue happily among themselves, walking by a Mont Blanc store, then a shop with $5,000 watches, and made it to the 50-yard-by-50-yard neighborhood square, where, as in scores of neighborhoods in South Africa these days, a huge TV screen was set up so the town could gather to watch the World Cup games. While they waited for the Germany-Australia game to begin, they gathered with a few other Namibians hoisting the Namibia flag (with woven blankets around their shoulders), and danced to some African music from a local band onstage.
I looked around. There were Hondurans with their flag, dozens of Brazilians with a few of theirs, Italians in their smart blue Azzuri jackets, Germans (who somehow, somewhere found Becks), South Africans on and offstage, Americans, English, Spaniards, Dutch (in bright orange), vocal and imbibing Aussies, a ton of Mexicans (with a few sombreros), Ghanians with their trademark black star celebrating their afternoon victory, and a family of Danes, all in Danish team jerseys.
When the game kicked off, fans of all these nations blew those omnipresent vuvuzelas, drank Castles and Windhoeks from passing beer vendors, and stood shoulder to shoulder yelling and rooting and drinking. (And in many cases, annoyingly, smoking.)
Americans in sweatshirts, and Namibians in skirts and walking sticks, watching Germany play Australia.
The World Cup. It's not like anything I've seen.
***
As I write this, it's early Wednesday night (South African time) in Melrose Arch. I'm in the press room, writing with other American scribes, on the second floor of a hotel. It's two hours before South Africa-Uruguay, and outside, we hear the sound of drums, whistles, vuvuzelas and singing from the same stage a block away I heard the African music the other night.
If I were home in Boston right now, I'd have been paying passing attention (that might be putting it mildly) to the World Cup. If I'd seen Italy's Daniele De Rossi score the equalizer against Paraguay and shed immediate tears of joy, I'd have said, "Emotional Italian.'' If I'd been watching the camera pan the North Korean players during their Anthem Tuesday night and seen one of them, overcome, bawling like a baby, I'd have said, "That's what living in a totalitarian state does to you,'' or something reactionarily dumb like that.
But I'm not there. I'm here. And when Maicon scored the impossible-angle goal for Brazil Tuesday, I jumped out of my seat in the upper deck at Ellis Park here. I had to stifle an "Incredible!!!'' I never do that an NFL game. I don't know what to say about the experience of covering a World Cup -- this is day 12 of my time in South Africa -- other than you've got to be in the middle of it to understand it. I'm sure ESPN is doing a heck of a job back home; it has to be leaps better than the local coverage, which is college-TV-stationish. But ... well, let me tell you this story to explain: My wife, Ann, is with me on the trip, and I can tell you that, other than the Steelers and a little about the Red Sox, she cares nothing about sports. But the other day, when I was out working, she had the TV in our room on, and there was 20 minutes left in Slovakia-New Zealand. She was preparing to go out to exercise, and then she heard the announcer on the TV say New Zealand had never scored a World Cup goal in its history. So she stayed for a few minutes, rooting for New Zealand, and when the Kiwis scored just before time expired, she hollered in excitement.
There's another vuvuzela, by the way. Right outside the window here.
***
I'm not telling you that you should gather around the TV tomorrow and be spellbound by USA-Slovenia. If you're like me, you don't know where Slovenia is. What I'm telling you is that, if it's possible, the World Cup should be on your sporting bucket list. One of our cabbies the other day said he had some Spaniards in his cab, and they said as soon as this World Cup is over, they'll go home to their lives in Spain and begin saving for their trip to the World Cup in 2014 in South America.
I'm not going to change the way I follow sports when I get home. It'll still be the American standbys: football and baseball, then hockey, and then basketball occasionally. But this is a terrific experience. Can't wait to see the game Friday, and then, on Sunday, I've got Brazil again.
By the way, Brazil's my team here -- other than the USA, of course. For a long time, I've felt teams like Brazil were filled with showboats. And maybe some still are, but Brazil, with so much incredible individual talent, didn't showboat. When I watched this game, I thought Bill Belichick ought to get a tape of Brazil playing, hand it to his team, and say, "Guys, this is what defines teamwork. Watch.''
Against North Korea, Brazil had three occasions in which they passed the ball 20 or more time before either losing it or taking a shot. The Brazilians were cool all game, even when it was 0-0 at halftime and the whole place thought the game should have been over midway through the half. The Brazilians' versatile midfielder, Gilberto Silva, who speaks very good English, told a couple of us afterward: "The world is full of equal teams right now. So when you play any team here, desperation doesn't work. You have to be patient. Just work as a team for a goal. That is what we do. That is what you have to do to win in this game -- work as a team.''
Enlightening game. Enlightening tournament. So what if the coffee stinks? I'm really glad I came.
I really don`t care if everybody here hates soccer, everyone is entitled to their own opinion and I truly respect that, I just think you could find this article interesting from an avid NFL FAN.
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/20..._king/06/17/south.africa/index.html?eref=sihp
JOHANNESBURG, South Africa -- On Sunday evening, with the temperature dropping into the high forties in the Tony Melrose Arch section of this teeming city, I followed four wafer-thin black men through a ritzy outdoor mall. These men were about 25, and about 5-foot-8. They might have weighed 100 pounds. All four carried sturdy brown walking sticks. They wore brown flat sandals and leather loin coverings that I'd best describe as mini-skirts. And that's all they wore.
The four talked in their native tongue happily among themselves, walking by a Mont Blanc store, then a shop with $5,000 watches, and made it to the 50-yard-by-50-yard neighborhood square, where, as in scores of neighborhoods in South Africa these days, a huge TV screen was set up so the town could gather to watch the World Cup games. While they waited for the Germany-Australia game to begin, they gathered with a few other Namibians hoisting the Namibia flag (with woven blankets around their shoulders), and danced to some African music from a local band onstage.
I looked around. There were Hondurans with their flag, dozens of Brazilians with a few of theirs, Italians in their smart blue Azzuri jackets, Germans (who somehow, somewhere found Becks), South Africans on and offstage, Americans, English, Spaniards, Dutch (in bright orange), vocal and imbibing Aussies, a ton of Mexicans (with a few sombreros), Ghanians with their trademark black star celebrating their afternoon victory, and a family of Danes, all in Danish team jerseys.
When the game kicked off, fans of all these nations blew those omnipresent vuvuzelas, drank Castles and Windhoeks from passing beer vendors, and stood shoulder to shoulder yelling and rooting and drinking. (And in many cases, annoyingly, smoking.)
Americans in sweatshirts, and Namibians in skirts and walking sticks, watching Germany play Australia.
The World Cup. It's not like anything I've seen.
***
As I write this, it's early Wednesday night (South African time) in Melrose Arch. I'm in the press room, writing with other American scribes, on the second floor of a hotel. It's two hours before South Africa-Uruguay, and outside, we hear the sound of drums, whistles, vuvuzelas and singing from the same stage a block away I heard the African music the other night.
If I were home in Boston right now, I'd have been paying passing attention (that might be putting it mildly) to the World Cup. If I'd seen Italy's Daniele De Rossi score the equalizer against Paraguay and shed immediate tears of joy, I'd have said, "Emotional Italian.'' If I'd been watching the camera pan the North Korean players during their Anthem Tuesday night and seen one of them, overcome, bawling like a baby, I'd have said, "That's what living in a totalitarian state does to you,'' or something reactionarily dumb like that.
But I'm not there. I'm here. And when Maicon scored the impossible-angle goal for Brazil Tuesday, I jumped out of my seat in the upper deck at Ellis Park here. I had to stifle an "Incredible!!!'' I never do that an NFL game. I don't know what to say about the experience of covering a World Cup -- this is day 12 of my time in South Africa -- other than you've got to be in the middle of it to understand it. I'm sure ESPN is doing a heck of a job back home; it has to be leaps better than the local coverage, which is college-TV-stationish. But ... well, let me tell you this story to explain: My wife, Ann, is with me on the trip, and I can tell you that, other than the Steelers and a little about the Red Sox, she cares nothing about sports. But the other day, when I was out working, she had the TV in our room on, and there was 20 minutes left in Slovakia-New Zealand. She was preparing to go out to exercise, and then she heard the announcer on the TV say New Zealand had never scored a World Cup goal in its history. So she stayed for a few minutes, rooting for New Zealand, and when the Kiwis scored just before time expired, she hollered in excitement.
There's another vuvuzela, by the way. Right outside the window here.
***
I'm not telling you that you should gather around the TV tomorrow and be spellbound by USA-Slovenia. If you're like me, you don't know where Slovenia is. What I'm telling you is that, if it's possible, the World Cup should be on your sporting bucket list. One of our cabbies the other day said he had some Spaniards in his cab, and they said as soon as this World Cup is over, they'll go home to their lives in Spain and begin saving for their trip to the World Cup in 2014 in South America.
I'm not going to change the way I follow sports when I get home. It'll still be the American standbys: football and baseball, then hockey, and then basketball occasionally. But this is a terrific experience. Can't wait to see the game Friday, and then, on Sunday, I've got Brazil again.
By the way, Brazil's my team here -- other than the USA, of course. For a long time, I've felt teams like Brazil were filled with showboats. And maybe some still are, but Brazil, with so much incredible individual talent, didn't showboat. When I watched this game, I thought Bill Belichick ought to get a tape of Brazil playing, hand it to his team, and say, "Guys, this is what defines teamwork. Watch.''
Against North Korea, Brazil had three occasions in which they passed the ball 20 or more time before either losing it or taking a shot. The Brazilians were cool all game, even when it was 0-0 at halftime and the whole place thought the game should have been over midway through the half. The Brazilians' versatile midfielder, Gilberto Silva, who speaks very good English, told a couple of us afterward: "The world is full of equal teams right now. So when you play any team here, desperation doesn't work. You have to be patient. Just work as a team for a goal. That is what we do. That is what you have to do to win in this game -- work as a team.''
Enlightening game. Enlightening tournament. So what if the coffee stinks? I'm really glad I came.
Bob Sacamano
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:laugh2:They have a wormhole machine.Temo;3435532 said:
Yeagermeister
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Temo;3435532 said:
Bob Sacamano
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bbgun;3435674 said:
Rampage already did it!