Ted's Polish-Mexican Page

After visiting with the USA fans, I decided to head back to Brittany and Catherine's house for a bit of a nap.

On the way back, I encountered two Houston fans at the Metro station. Although this game was not "huge" by US sports standards, it was hard to spit without hitting folks decked out in orange or blue scarves.

I approached the Houston fans.

"Excuse me, I'm supposed to kick your asses, which one of you first?"

"Oh, me first, just be careful with the face."

I got back to Brittany and Catherine's for an hour long nap. Well...I thought it would be an hour long. I woke up with enough time to take a shower and get on the Metro to Crystal City for yet another supporter's gathering. This one was at a sports bar with the creative name of Crystal City Sports Pub.

The "Pub" was three stories, with the first two floors packed with Rev and Dynamo fans. The third floor was being used by a group of Clemson fans watching a gridiron game. At first sight, we thought the room was full of Houston fans, since they share colors.

Midnight Riders instigator Monty Rodrigues was holding court on the second floor balcony. You could actually hear them clearly from the first floor. It made me wonder what the Clemson fans thought they had gotten into.

I was still remarkably tired, but so was everyone else, so I skedaddled around 9:30 or so. Catherine's admonision to me that I couldn't catch the Metro after 2 AM was well meaning but rather useless that weekend.

Had to wake up early for the big game, right?


Hasta la proxima. Do zobaczenia.

[Blogger's note: my reports on the MLS Cup are also posted at How Flair is Punished! complete with replies of a sort from HooverDam.]

Woke up later than I would have liked on Saturday, although it was a bit after five MST (God's own time zone). I packed the backpack I got for free when I worked for the Tucson Amigos, the one with the special compartments for shin guards and boots. It makes me feel as if I am a for-real footy player.

Went down to RFK where, if my addled memory served me, the fan cup was supposed to have been played on a nearby field. I wandered around for a bit. I saw a group of thirty and fourty somethings playing short-sided soccer. Seeing the paunches and male pattern baldness, I figured that was my crowd. I went over there.

"I hope I am not late," I told the woman who was staffing a table at the entrance.

"Not at all. Here is a jersey, you are on the dark blue team." I was a bit taken aback. A Screaming Eagles muckety-muck I spoke to the night before told me that they were providing pinneys, but didn't say anything about jerseys. Cool though, I got me a free jersey.


I went over to where the dark blue team was playing (Los Azules Oscures? Les Bleus Foncés?) I waited for a bit while they were getting hammered by a team wearing maroon (Colorado? Sparta Praha?). I opened my bag to find that I had not packed shorts. It was sub-50 degrees out anyway (if that warm) and two of my teammates were wearing street pants. One was wearing green pants. I asked a woman that was waiting to go in, "Hey, is that Greg Lalas?"

"Yes."

Halftime.

"Hi, I'm Greg."

"I'm Ted."

"I'm Brad," it was Brad Feldman. Somehow, the Revolution's broadcast team was playing on my fan squad.

I got called into the second half. I sucked...but so did everyone except Greg. I was very, very stiff. I was still on Mountain time which left me playing the game at somewhere around seven in the morning.

They put me in goal for a little bit. An attendant ran over to me and handed me a green goalkeeper jersey. I made a few saves. Greg even turned to me and said, "Nice save 'keep." Fanboy moment: people that would have heard that previously would have been Scott Garlick and Walter Zenga. Cool.

At the end of the game, I talked to Brad and that is when I found out that I had ventured onto the wrong field. This was the Media Cup, not the fan four on four tourney. He told me, "If someone shows up and needs a spot, you'll probably have to give the jersey back, but don't worry about it."

Media Cup. That would explain why the other team featured Fernando Fiore, Presidente de la Republica Deportiva.

It's okay, I'm media, right? Heck, the Arizona Republic called me a "must-read."

Second game, I ended up messing up my knee while trying to get a ball Brad sent me. At the end of that game, the record of Ciemny-granatowy was now at 0-2. This concerned Brad and Greg, as their squad was runner up last year. They figured if we could beat this last team, they could escape with pride intact and possibly make it into the next round.

I talked to Greg after the game. I tried not to be the overeager fan boy. I remember something that John Convertino of Calexico told me once at a Sleater-Kinney show about talking gear. So, we talked about guitars.

I played 'keeper in the second half of the last game. Here is something for y'all to know: when playing any sort of pick-up game like this, always shoot low. Why? Poorly maintained ground causes weird bounces and the 'keepers suck. I know I did. None of us know how to go down (insert joke here) for the ball. This happens most when I play indoor over at Bladeworld, where even the good 'keepers develop an aversion to diving for a ball when it means going face first into "Sport Court."

These guys were actually quite predictable. I was able to block their few low shots with my feet. They ran up on me a few times from the right. I would look to the left to see if there was a runner that was unmarked. Each time, no runner. This made it easy to just stand there and let them take shots right at me. I only let one by.

We won 4-2 against a that team, a light blue clad one that included Will Kuhns.

At the end of the game, it was announced that due to time constraints, only the top two teams overall would be in the final. Someone (I will not say who...) groused, "Changing the rules in the middle? Just like MLS..."

Greg and a couple of others organized their own game on a free field. I thanked Brad the opporitunity to play. As I left, he called me over and gave me his jersey. "Wow, just like Mean Joe Green!"

I met HooverDam and crew over at a restaurant in Crystal City where they had just gotten done watching the US against South Africa. I showed Evan "Magpie" Whitney the Revs practice jersey that Brad gave me.

"Game worn Feldman, very rare," he said.

Well, checking out the picture of the team (which also included Frank Dell'apa), it actually wasn't "game worn," but why ruin the moment?

NB - Jack Bell has an account of the Media Cup over at his New York Times blog.


Hasta la proxima. Do zobaczenia.

I arrived at BWI at around 5 PM and met my friends Brittany and Catherine. Just so y'all know...don't ever, ever book a flight on a 737, especially when the seating has been configured by the folks at Continental. I'm up for a case of deep bone thrombosis, just like Lainie Kazan. I called HooverDam, and I was supposed to meet her at her hotel. Of course, I was late. Darn that Washington traffic.

The get-together for fans was at a bar in what turned out to be the headquarters hotel for the Cup. There was also a more toney get together at another bar across from us. That one featured a guy carying the cup. Soccer celebrities spotted: Brian Hall, Marcelo Balboa, Dante Washington. We figured out pretty quickly that the toney celebration wasn't ours (I had a habit of crashing the wrong events this weekend. More on that later.) We went to the other bar after being informed by a fellow fan we were in the wrong place. I spotted Washington, and I told him I played lacrosse with an old roommate of his. Of course, I couldn't remember the name of the roommate for the life of me.

They had certificates that they handed each one of us that allowed us to get ten dollars worth of stuff for free at the bar. I guess they know that most MLS fans would easily drink three times that much. However, our little group included a teatoatler and a vegitarian. I was not the vegetarian. I took advantage of the discount and ordered the ribs.

Our drinks were served in glasses bearing the 2007 MLS Cup logo. We thought, cool...our first souveneir. However, the staff at the bar was remerkably efficient in taking the glasses away the moment they approached empty. I don't know anything about this directly, of course, but I heard a rumor that several fans snuck these glasses out of the bar.

I was approached by one self-identified "uni-geek" who admired my Tucson Toros hat. When I informed him I own a complete Toros uniform (mid-90's vintage) he got way too giddy. I told him that I also own a jersey from the first season they affiliated with the Astros, a particularly infamous and ugly one. I think he actually orgasmed at that point.

I was the designated driver on the way from the bar (that was, after we got lost trying to get to where the car was parked.). I managed to maneuver my way home somehow.


Hasta la proxima. Do zobaczenia.

Sign at Rocco's Pizza this week:

Pizza Saves for Half Damage

Now, is that second or third edition?


Hasta la proxima. Do zobaczenia.

I have been lacking in interesting dreams lately. Take last night's dream.

I go to Kentucky Fried Chicken and they hand me my order. I get home, open the bag and find a note that said "sorry" and an empty box.

That was it. The whole dream.


Hasta la proxima. Do zobaczenia.