Mike's Best Guess's Open Salon Blog

I'm from Alabama, and I used to be illegal

Mon, 13 Jun 2011 13:06:48 -0400

Actually, I can't prove that.

So, to my employer, please consider firing me now. To law enforcement, please check my papers. To my high school, please rescind my diploma. And to anyone who wants to give me a ride, just don't.

See, here's the thing. At some point in the past, my ancestors entered this country by some means, legal or illegal. I don't really know how they got in, but I know the last of them arrived in the early 20th century. Now I live in Alabama, where I own a house, a car, two dogs, a few insurance policies and, thanks to my upcoming wedding, a slick new stainless steel DeLonghi toaster oven. My parents and I were born in this country, so we're all United States citizens and no one can make us prove it. But the other day Alabama passed a new immigration law that — let's be honest here — boils down my citizenship status to the tint of my skin.

Fortunately for me, I have the right tint for Alabama. And that goes back to all that stuff I can't really prove. In the early 20th century, a group of Germans living around Odessa, in tsarist Russia, emigrated to the United States and settled in South Dakota. My paternal grandmother's parents were among them. My grandmother was born there in 1926, and she later met a Scotch-Irish man with the last name of Cummings. The couple had four kids, the fourth being my father in 1953.

My maternal grandparents come from the hills of southwest Missouri. They met young, had my mother when my grandmother was 18 in 1953, and later divorced. They both still live in Springfield, a city not too far from Joplin that's probably best known as being the hometown of Brad Pitt and Silver Dollar City. I'm not really sure of my heritage on this side, but I've always heard it as Scotch-Irish.

But like I said, I can't prove much of this, even if you made me.

Being the history nut I am, I have a few documents that confirm the immigration of my paternal ancestors to the United States. But I don't know if they entered the country legally or illegally. And the same goes for the Missouri half of my family tree. Wikipedia says the town was incorporated in 1838, and that the railroad came to town ten years later, so either of those years would be a good guess for the arrival of the Ogles. But again, I don't know how they entered the country

I'm going on and on about this because under the new immigration law in my home state, law enforcement officers are required to check the immigration papers of anyone they suspect of being an illegal immigrant, after, of course, the suspect has been stopped for another issue. School administrators must also verify the immigration status of all their suspect students, despite the fact that this will cause the nearly bankrupt Alabama BOE to spend money that it doesn't have.

And even I could be in legal doo-doo at times, white skin and all. If I get caught carrying an illegal immigrant in my car, I'll be in deep shit, though it hasn't really been explained how that shit will taste. It doesn't matter if I just got done playing a soccer game with my recreational-league team and my legal-immigrant teammate just needs a ride home. It's tough cookies for him, unless he's the one from Belgium instead of Mexico.

That's not right, and I don't think I should have to explain why — especially in my home state, where we learned about civil rights the hard way less than 50 years ago. Recently, another poster on Open Salon said Americans don't burn books. That's true, and so is this: Americans don't treat different groups of Americans differently based on the color of their skin. Nor do Americans force other Americans to carry immigration papers on them at all times.

So what do I do? I'm an American, and I also live in Alabama. You might be surprised to know that I debate states' rights frequently with friends and neighbors, 150 years after the Civil War began. So this is tougher than it sounds, even to a converted Yankee like me. On one hand, I believe in equal rights under federal law, but on the other, I believe in abiding by the laws of the land, even when that land is as schizophrenic as my home state is.

But I've already decided. When soccer season starts this fall, any member of my team — assuming they want it — will get a free ride home regardless of their nationality, skin shade, citizenship or language of choice. And I'm not going to ask them about any of it before they get in my car.

Becuase that's the right thing to do.

And besides, my ancestors didn't get to South Dakota and Missouri without a couple of helping hands.

Kneejerk reactions: USA-Spain

Sat, 4 Jun 2011 19:06:37 -0400

That was embarrassing.

It was only a friendly, but then again the United States’ performance Saturday against Spain was only slightly better than disastrous. Spain led 3-0 at halftime, and in truth, it should have been worse. It was like a bad episode of Pros vs. Joes, except that in the TV show, the Joes actually had a chance. The US had as much of a chance as it had possession of the ball. There was no marking, no pressure, no heart.

It was pitiful.

Spain or not — friendly or not — the United States’ performance was not good enough. But it’s not all bad. We still learned a lot from the carnage. So with that bit of optimism in mind, here are seven things we learned from Spain’s 4-0 win over the United States on Saturday.

1. Oguchi Onyewu is done. And Tim Ream isn’t ready yet.
Onyewu is only 29 years old, but he hasn’t looked like a top-class center back since he injured his knee in 2009. Back in 2006, he was a towering, powerful center back with a strong aerial presence. Now, he’s just a slow, flat-footed spectator who stands between 18 and 25 yards in front of the goal. He looks lost, and US coach Bob Bradley should make it clear Gooch’s home is no longer on the first-choice American team-sheet.

Ream is no spring chicken either. He’ll turn 24 in October, but he doesn’t have a bunch of international experience. That showed against Spain. Of course, Spain can make even the best backs in the world look foolish, but Ream needs a bit more seasoning before he’s ready to contribute on the international level. He did play better in the second half, though.

2. The US doesn’t have much depth in its roster.
The US showed last summer that it can compete with the best, if not beat the best. On Saturday, they played the best, without the best playing its best players. Got all that? Spain left several of its best players — Iniesta, Pedro, and to a lesser extent, Torres — on the bench, and Xavi and Cesc didn’t even travel with the team. But Spain still dominated the US, which also left some of its best players out.

Bradley made several substitutions at halftime, bringing on some veterans. It worked, and the US played much better, especially in the first 15 minutes. Clint Dempsey and — dammit, I have to admit it — Michael Bradley played especially well. Steve Cherundolo, wear, tear, mileage and all, looked good at times. For much of the second half, the US even competed on level terms.

But that reinforced the fact that the US talent pool is still not deep enough.

3. The US needs to play to its strengths, or at least have a plan.
Against Spain, Bradley and the US didn’t have a plan. Either that, or it was such a poor plan that the result was complete chaos in the first half. Spain controlled every aspect of the game before halftime. The US midfield played in a flat line. They didn’t apply any pressure. The defense was also flat. And they didn’t bother to mark anyone. Against Spain, that’s suicide. Against a great-passing team like Spain, the strategy is to either apply constant pressure (and risk fatigue) or crowd the midfield and disrupt passing lanes (and risk letting Spain pick you apart).

The US did neither, and Spain was more than happy to control the ball. The whole first half.

The US is not a flashy team. They’re never going to out-flair anyone. But they can outwork and outlast opponents. The team’s strengths are conditioning and grit, but they didn’t show it. It’s hard to say why. Maybe it was a failure of coaching, or maybe the players were just overwhelmed by their illustrious opponents. Neither scenario is encouraging.

4. The US still starts slowly.
Remember last summer, when the US fell behind in all of their games at the World Cup? It turned out to be a decisive flaw, because Ghana took advantage twice — at the beginning of the game, and the beginning of extra time. The same thing happened Saturday. Spain needed 28 minutes to score the first goal, but a perfectly fine goal was ruled out for offsides before that. Spain also hit the post in the first half.

Once again, the US didn’t look ready for the game. Against such a high-profile opponent, that’s inexcusable.

5. Bradley’s halftime subs were OK, but why take out Edu?
For all the ineptitude shown by the US in the first half, two players turned in decent efforts. Tim Howard, as always, played well in goal, and really couldn’t be faulted for any of the goals. And Maurice Edu provided the only offensive threat the US mustered. His runs and passing in the midfield were dangerous, and his workrate was decent.

Thankfully, Bradley took off Onyewu, Jermaine Jones, Robbie Rogers and Jozy Altidore. Jones and Rogers were nearly anonymous, and Altidore failed to produce anything. At 21, it’s about tie Altidore produces a return on all the faith the US has shown in him up top.

6. The crowd was excellent.
I’ve said it several times, but I really think soccer is on the rise in America. A few vacant seats stood out at Gillette Stadium, but fans packed the lower sections and most of the upper deck. And even when the game was over with Spain up 3-0, the atmosphere still crackled. Well, until the fourth goal.

7. Berserk Bob needs to produce.
Bradley has been the head coach of the US since 2006, and while continuity at the coaching position is the foundation of success, something needs to change. The Gold Cup starts in a few days, and the US needs to have a good showing. If not, Bradley needs to leave.

Bradley’s had five years. He’s had good moments (the Confederations Cup two years ago) and he’s had his insane moments (most of the World Cup). Now it’s time to produce. He needs to win Gold Cup (or at the very least reach the final) to keep his job. Otherwise, it just shows that the United States Soccer Federation has no ambition.

Either Bob Bradley or the USSF need to try something different.

The best team ever? Old news

Sat, 28 May 2011 17:05:35 -0400

So Barcelona is the best team ever. Except if you’re an American, because if you’re an American, Manchester United is the best team ever — and who’s this Messi guy anyway?

No need to answer that, because here’s the thing: Before Barcelona beat Manchester United 3-1 on Saturday in the Champions League final, everybody already knew what was going to happen. Barca would win, Messi would score, and they’d both ascend to heaven in a UEFA-sanctioned apotheosis. And Manchester United would still be the only team that matters to Americans.

So why did I enjoy the whole thing so damn much?

It was always going to be an interesting game. Barcelona was the favorite, with all that skill, all that talent, all that style. When people talked about Barca, they used all those fancy words like ‘panache’ and ‘elan,’ which really just meant lots of passing when Barca had the ball, and lots of players clutching their faces and fans whistling lustily while the other team had it.

They were already the best team in the world. Basically, they were Spain, who everybody knows is the best national team in the world, plus Lionel Messi, the little Argentine who everybody knows is the best player in the world. Some people even said they were the best team ever, even though they hadn’t proven it yet. But that’s what’s so great about European soccer. There’s always a chance to prove it, and not just against teams in your own country.

Then there was Manchester United. Everybody in America knew who they were, mostly because of a bunch of players they had in the 90s, like David Beckham and Ryan Giggs and Paul Scholes, players who won a ton of titles and converted every casual American soccer fan into a Man U fanatic. And wouldn’t you know it — on this Saturday they were wearing their white alternate uniforms, a kit that looked like a blast from 1993 but admittedly had brought bad luck all season. But it wouldn’t matter. Like they had all season, United were still relying on players and tactics from 1993. And somehow it had worked. Yes, United showed this season that Ryan Giggs, a jammed-up midfield and pressure defense can still win in England and in Europe. But could it beat The Best Team Of All Time?

The answer turned out to be no. Barcelona scored twice in the second half and beat Manchester United 3-1 in the Champions League final for their third European championship in six years. Lionel Messi scored the winning goal, Barca passed the ball around a lot, and everything pretty much played out the way everyone figured it would. But if you watched it, you know it didn’t really feel that way the whole time.

If there was a team that could beat Barca, it was Manchester United. Man U wasn’t going to do it by playing Barca’s game. No, the only way through had to be behind the red nose of Sir Alex Ferguson. Over the decades, Fergie’s proven he can win it all without necessarily having the best team. This year re-confirmed it. Heck, this year, tactics won the league. That and a pitiful gaggle of pretenders to Man U’s premier league throne. I mean, come on. Patrice Evra played a significant role — at left back.

And early on, the trusty formula worked. Chicharito and Rooney pressed up high on the Barca defenders, choking out the attack before it could get rolling. If Barca kept possession into the midfield, Man U refused to sit back and let their illustrious opponents pass it around. Most impressive was Park Ji-Sung, the Korean who always seems to be one of United’s best players when Fergie lets him be one of United’s players. First he’d cut out an attack. Then he’d have the ball at his feet with United on the counter. He was everywhere and he was nowhere all at once.

But it didn’t last. It couldn’t have lasted. Barca kept passing, and United started giving up more space. That’s what happens when you chase the ball all the time. And midway through the first half, United already looked tired. Strangely enough, United tried to build a passing game of its own around that time, but against the masters, it was never going to work. So which do you try? Passing and possession, or defense and counter-attack? Pedro-ed if you do, Messi-ed if you don’t. And when Barca got its attack going, it was no coincidence that the chances developed from extra space in the midfield.

The first real opening came in the 16th minute when Pedro really should have scored after a cross found him along the six-yard box. He didn’t score, but it was a brilliant attack that tore United to pieces, from one end of the pitch to the other. The trusty tactics were crumbling.

And when Barca inevitably scored, in the 27th minute on an all-too easy low near-post shot by Pedro, the match was basically over. Sure, Rooney scored a few minutes later, and the game was tied 1-1 at halftime, but it didn’t really matter. Everyone pretty much knew Barca would win, kinda like last summer when everybody knew that most of the same players would beat the Dutch in South Africa. Saturday was really more about questions of when and how and how many. Last summer it took Spain almost two hours to finally beat the dour, defensive Dutch. Nearly a year later, against an opponent with a similar plan, most of the same players looked like they’d learned their lesson. And this time they had an upgrade up top, Messi in place of Torres.

The script seemed to be in motion: Twenty-seven minutes to score on their opponents. Sixty-three more to crush them.

Then Rooney scored.

No matter, though. Barca had way too much of everything to lose. And unlike Spain last summer, they had Messi. The little Argentinean, the best player in the world, scored the game-winner early in the second half for the best team in the world. It seemed appropriate and all, but when it happened, it wasn’t a moment of genius. It was really just a moment of competence.

Messi accepted a pass about 25 yards outside the United goal, took a couple of dribbles past a defender and scored with a low, bouncing shot across the face of Edwin van der Sar’s goal. It was just an okay shot, kind of weak and not really far enough to the corner. But United’s two central defenders, Nemanja Vidic and Rio Ferdinand, just stood still about five or six yards away. They never challenged the ball, but they did form a decent screen for their goalie. And it was weird, too. They wouldn’t get away with that in England — hell, even Nicklas Bendtner could have scored that goal (okay, maybe not) — and I can’t figure out why they thought they could get away with that when Messi had the ball.

While Messi’s goal was simple, the next one was sublime. David Villa, Barcelona’s other forward, curled a wicked shot around Ferdinand and van der Sar’s flying 80-year-old corpse. Jeebus, was it nice. Now it was official. Now even Fergie and Rooney couldn’t smoke-and-mirror United back into it. Congrats on the Premier League title and all, but this game was only going to have one winner.

Finally it was all over. Barca had its European title, and its real title — best team ever. Messi had his first goal in England (unbelievable, right?). And in America, in front of a national TV audience on FOX (unbelievable, right?), it didn’t really matter, because why wasn’t David Beckham playing?

I enjoyed it anyway. Go figure.

Ronaldo retires. No, not that one.

Mon, 14 Feb 2011 17:02:25 -0500

As soon as people here in America find out I’m a soccer fan, they always want to know the same two things.

Is soccer ever going to catch on in America?

And…

How ’bout that Ronaldo guy? Isn’t he something?

My answer to the first one is always ‘no’ except for every fourth summer, when the end of another World Cup brings renewed hope. The second question, unfortunately, can only be answered with another question.

Which one?

You mean there’s more than one?

Well, yes and no. Cristiano Ronaldo, the Portuguese, was born in 1985, currently plays his club ball for Real Madrid, and has failed to impress at three separate World Cups. Ronaldo Luis Nazario de Lima, or just Ronaldo, is a Brazilian who was born in 1976 and was probably among the two or three greatest players of his generation. He retired Monday in Sao Paulo, breaking the hearts of soccer fans and transvestite prostitutes across the world.

But while the two men share a name, a language, and an affinity for hookers, make no mistake — there is and was only one Ronaldo. And he retired Monday.

Ronaldo’s career was as exciting and scandalous on the field as it was off of it. As a player, he won two World Cup titles with Brazil (he scored 15 World Cup goals, a record, including both in the 2002 final against Germany), was named the European Player of the Year twice (his first came at age 21), and earned the FIFA World Player of the Year Award three times (an all-time record shared with Zinedine Zidane, maybe his biggest rival to the title of best player of his generation).

And there was controversy. In the 1998 World Cup final against host France, Ronaldo looked slow and disoriented, and played poorly as Brazil lost. It later came out that Ronaldo had suffered a seizure the night before and should never have been on the field.

Off the field, he dated models, and more models, and more models while looking like this and this. And then there was the prostitution scandal, and the weight gain, and eventually, last fall, a threat to quit.

He finally did quit today, citing his weight and a disorder called hyperthyroidism that makes it difficult to manage his weight. It served as a perfect end to what was an unbelievable career. It was priceless and hysterical and sad and appropriate all at once, because at one time, there was Ronaldo and then there was everybody else. He was it, the way Cristiano Ronaldo wants to be it today.

And all the extra stuff? That was part of the fun. And in a way, it’s a shame he wasn’t born in America, because if he’d been an American, it would have probably made him one of the all-timers. If he could play another sport. Just think: the only comparable sports figure we have is Babe Ruth, a womanizing, chain-smoking, fat, but undeniably all-American, baby-faced boy from the slums of Baltimore.

Not all of that translates to Ronaldo, especially not the American part, but like Babe Ruth, he was an original — a flawed, terrible, lovable, baby-faced original. And we would have loved him for it like we love all our tragic heroes, as long as they prove their worth on the field. No worries, though. The rest of the world loves him, especially the hookers, and when the other guy who goes by Ronaldo retires one day, it really won’t feel the same at all.

And that’s why there’s only one Ronaldo. Sorry, Cristy.

Down with Cam Newton? No — down with college football

Wed, 10 Nov 2010 17:11:34 -0500

By now, you've heard the story of Cameron Newton.

Save for a starring role in a real-life sci-fi B-movie involving a time-and-space-sucking vacuum, you know all about Newton and the allegations he's facing, even though he lives and attends college in a remote, rural town on the plains of east-central Alabama

But have you thought about Cameron Newton? I mean, really, really thought about him? Thought about him the way The Situation surely must ponder the cause-and-effect relationship between bagging a grade-A DTF and the faithful performance of his daily GTL?

If you have, you might be wondering the same thing as me.

Why is the development of a potential professional football star tied so closely to his good standing with an academic institution?

***

For the space-time vacuum crowd:

Cameron Newton is a football player from suburban Atlanta, Georgia, who stars at quarterback for the Auburn University Tigers. At 6-foot-6 and 250 pounds, Newton is an outstanding physical specimen who runs the 40 as fast as a wide receiver and hits as hard as a linebacker. He has already rushed for more yardage this season than any other quarterback in the long history of the Southeastern Conference, and he ranks second in the country in passing efficiency. His freakish combination of physical prowess and polished skills has made him the favorite to win the Heisman Trophy annually awarded to the best college football player in the country. By all accounts, Newton already possesses the skills, talent and physical attributes to play professionally in the National Football League.

But this fall, Newton, 21, is a member of the junior class at Auburn, where he majors in social and behavioral sciences. And as such, the National Collegiate Athletic Association considers Newton an amateur and does not allow him to profit from his exploits on the football field.

Before transferring to Auburn last winter, Newton played at the University of Florida and Blinn College, a two-year school in Texas. While a student at Florida, Newton came under the suspicion of local law enforcement for his possession of a stolen computer. Newton transferred after two seasons with the Gators, and has since been accused of multiple academic improprieties. Last week, a major sports network reported that a person claiming to represent Newton solicited money from Mississippi State University during his recruitment last winter. And today, the same network is reporting that recruiting sources from Mississippi State said that Newton and his father spoke of a pay-for-play plan in phone conversations with recruiters.

***

Pay-for-play schemes are nothing new in college athletics, nor are they new to Auburn, the Southeastern Conference, or even big-time college football as a whole. In the early 1990s, former Auburn player Eric Ramsey secretly recorded coaches talking about illicit payments to players. That led to probation for the program and the end of then-coach Pat Dye's career.

Across the state in Tuscaloosa, the University of Alabama has also dealt with pay-for-play scandals during its illustrious history. In 2000, the Crimson Tide signed a defensive lineman named Albert Means out of his high school in Memphis, Tennessee. Five years later, the NCAA placed Alabama on probation following an investigation that showed individuals associated with the university had paid Means to attend Alabama. The program nearly received the NCAA's "Death Penalty" and a prominent university booster received jail time for his role in the scheme.

And the scandals have hardly been limited to the state of Alabama. The most famous incident of the death penalty might be that of Southern Methodist University's football team, which had to cancel its 1987 season after the NCAA found numerous instances of payments to players over multiple years. But that's just one example. Former USC running back Reggie Bush comes to mind, as do former Colorado and Washington coach Rick Neuheisel and former Texas Christian running back Kenneth Davis.

In short, academic impropriety, pay-for-play schemes and recruiting violations are ingrained in big-time college football nearly as deeply as the forward pass. An average fan shouldn't ask "Has my team ever done it?" — and should instead ask "How often have they done it?" or "Will they get caught?"

***

Or maybe the fan should ask, "Why should I care?" or better yet, "Why do we have this system?"

First, though, a short history lesson and a look at another system for developing athletic talent.

College football began as informal contests between clubs that represented universities in the late nineteenth century. The first players already attended the university in question and joined an on-campus football-playing organization that we'd recognize today as more of an intramural club. Eventually, colleges and universities began sponsoring the sport and filling its roster by awarding athletic scholarships. Today, at the highest level of college football (the NCAA's Football Bowl Subdivision, formerly called Division I-A), teams are limited to 85 scholarship players on their roster.

Athletic scholarships are more rare in other parts of the world. They exist in Canada and the United Kingdom, but they are much more restricted. The reason for this distinction is simple: in every other country besides the United States, intercollegiate athletics are not big-time spectator sports. Outstanding athletes join professional sports teams at a young age, usually in lieu of attending traditional school.

For example, David Beckham, perhaps the most famous soccer player of the last 25 years, began his career as a youth player with English club Tottenham Hotspur in 1987. He turned 12 that year. Beckham signed "schoolboy terms" with Manchester United on his 14th birthday in 1989 and, by the time he had turned 18, Beckham had won the FA Youth Cup (a prestigious tournament involving every professional club in England) with Manchester United and was beginning to force his way into the club's first team. His story is typical of soccer players around the world.

Beckham's formal eduation ended around the time he became a teenager. When he began to exhibit the skills needed for a career in soccer, his parents put him on the path that they believed would give him the best opportunity to become a professional. But if he lived in America and played American football, Beckham would have had to attend high school, hoped to secure an academic scholarship to a college, and played for at least three years (according to NFL rules) in college before trying to enter the NFL through its draft.

Why? Why do we do it that way?

***

It's easy to answer the first of the fan's questions. The second is much harder.

Why should we care? Because rules are rules, and if you're going to participate in the system, you have to follow its rules. If you don't, punishment is fair and appropriate.

But let's go back to Beckham. Clearly, things worked out for Beckham in a way that most people could never dream of. Even the best prospects sometimes flame out, and an injury could have derailed his career at any time. But that doesn't change the fact that Beckham benefitted from a system that is much more efficient at identifying talent and bringing it along than its American counterpart. And it does so without involving academics, a system that unnecessarily makes athletes act like scholars in order to further their careers.

Take the example of Cameron Newton. Nothing has been proven yet, but if the allegations against him are proven true, Newton could be ruled ineligible for his senior season — if he doesn't enter the NFL draft — or even the end of his junior year.

This is not an attack on or a defense of Newton. If he broke NCAA rules, he should be punished. That's how the rule of law works. But why should he even have to go to college in the first place? Since entering college in 2007, Newton has possessed the potential to be a professional football player. Though his skills needed work, his physical attributes were there.

In a vacuum, Newton's attributes and skill set, by 2007, would have been worth at least a developmental contract from a professional football team. But because of NFL rules that require a player to be at least three years removed from high school, Newton had to enter college in the hopes that he could secure a professional contract by means of an artificial apprenticeship.

Does any of this really make sense?

Why does this country insist that professional football prospects must attend college for three years before they're eligible to play in the NFL? (They don't actually have to play in college, but sitting out for three years to satisfy the league's policy would not make sense.)

I don't have an answer. Maybe it's because we believe in some sort of liberal-arts-college conviction that people should be well-rounded. Thus football players should succeed academically before they can play professionally. Or maybe there's too much money at stake in college football because of television contracts and bowl tie-ins. After all, if we allowed the best players to play professionally as soon as they were good enough, no one would watch what's left over in college.

Whatever the reason, as long as the system is in place, we're going to have unsavory situations like that of Newton and SMU and Reggie Bush.

And the worst part of it all is that it's all completely unnecessary.