Monday, November 23, 2009

Hopeless in Seattle, the LA Galaxy in the MLS Cup Final.


Outside the Hawk's Nest Pub, Seattle.


Bizzarro Restaurant.


Seamonster Lounge.


My stalker, Miss Galaxy



So, Mark and I went to Seattle this weekend for the MLS Cup Final.
We have been going to watch them all season and decided weeks ago to go to the final regardless of who made it there.
As luck would have it the Galaxy scraped their way through. Now Beckham and co aren't a bad team, they have a great keeper, a decent back four and one of the best midfield's in the MLS.
The main problem is that they have absolutely nothing up front, their attack is as toothless as Shane MacGowan.
Edsen Buddle and Alan Gordon would have struggled to get a game for teams I have coached in the Tri-County Soccer League.
Buddle can't jump or run and is African American, my theory is that he was adopted by an elderly white couple from Encino. He plays with his head down and never seems remotely interested. Alan Gordon while certainly enthusiastic, is fucking awful, a touch like a baby elephant and lacking in even the ability to trap a bag of cement. Now when I was a young and lean amateur player I was a half decent Sunday league forward, but now that I'm old fat and slow, I'd still be more useful to the L.A. Galaxy than either one of this pair.
Beckham was playing with Kaka, Pato and Ronaldinho this time last year, how he must love playing with Gordon and Buddle.
No wonder he's back off on the first plane to Milan this week to prepare for next summer's World Cup Finals in South Africa.
Anyway the soccer media had installed the Galaxy as hot favourites for the final, but Mark and I had our doubts, Real Salt Lake had a good team, decent forwards and nothing to lose.
We flew up to Seattle, hung out with my Wedding Present buddy Fergal, got drunk a few times, took some touristy pictures and generally had a great time thanks to our fantastic Nottingham Forest loving Irish host.
The day of the match, we headed to the Hawks Nest pub and got drunk with other like minded Galaxy fans.
We met a Middlesbrough fan in the bar who wears a pithe helmet for Galaxy matches. We chatted for a while, he was a top bloke. Then I asked him where abouts in L.A. he lived in and he said he still lived in Middlesbrough and just flies out here for the craic and to attend Galaxy games. Fuck me, I know the Boro are dire these days, but flying out from the UK to watch the Galaxy is a bit much, he must have more money than sense.
Oh well, he's a top bloke and if it makes him happy, then more power to him.
We'll look him up next season at the Home Depot Center and share a can of lager or two or three or more.
We had a bit of fun with a bucket (long story) and ran into Miss L.A. Galaxy again.
I honestly think she must be stalking me or something.
At the stadium we met Galaxy legends Mauricio Cienfuegos and Kevin Hartman, it is nice to see them still cheering on their old team.
The game was a bit predictable, Real were slightly the better team and the Galaxy barely troubled them offensively. We had key players missing with illness and then Donovan Ricketts got injured so we had to waste one of our substutions replacing him with Josh Saunders. In the dreaded shoot out Beckham buried his kick, Berthalter did likewise. Up next was Landon and he never misses from the spot. Unfortunately the giant screen in the stadium showed two of his pk kicks just before the shoot out. My feeling is that he changed his usual tactic of putting to the left or right of the watching RSL keeper and opted to bury it just under the crossbar instead.
This didn't do us any good as he put it so far over the net that people on top of the Space Needle reportedly ducked.
The equally dire Jovan Kirovski missed another and the final lick came down to my favourite Galaxian Edsen Buddle. He trudged over from the halfway line like a deadman walking. "Look at the fucker" I said "he's gonna miss"
"Aye" replied Mark.
He walked up to the ball and basically rolled the ball back to the keeper and the final was over as soon as the ball left his foot. RSL just about deserved to be champions. Beckham was about the only one to show any class and walked over to the RSL coach and team after they got their hands on the trophy, congratulating each and every one of them while his team mates slunk off back to the dressing room, heads bowed.
Despite the game, we had a great weekend thanks to Fergal and his mates.
Hopefully the Galaxy will keep most of the squad intact for next year and add a couple of forwards. If they insist on keeping Buddle and Gordon maybe they could have them sell hot dogs inside the stadium, this is really all they are fit for.

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