by Riley Bauling
Daily Lobo
Let me preface the beginning of this column by saying I don't like Bernie Mac or his show, where he has those goofy monologues in which he refers to America as if the whole nation is watching.
With that out of the way, America, I'm proud of you.
I thought you hated soccer - you proved me wrong. World Cup ratings are at an all-time high in this country as well as abroad, and that just tickles me pink.
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Maybe we deserve to host another Copa Mundial before our time as a nation comes to a screeching halt. Then, we can at least prove to the rest of the world that although our team is composed of zombie-like creatures that have the touch of cross-eyed baboons, at least our fans know how to appreciate the beautiful game.
And, without a question, the United States looked like one of the worst teams in the tournament. African teams like Angola and Togo at least played with passion. They played like they wanted to be there - like they belonged. We were a disgrace, an embarrassment and a completely ridiculous excuse for a team. I'm ashamed and you all should be, too.
We simply have no superstars on the team. Landon Donovan played like Cinderella, complete with glass slippers. Oguchi Onyewu, who was supposed to play his way into the English Premier League with an outstanding tournament, looked about as tough as a limp noodle - evidenced by the Czech Republic's Jan Koller when he mowed over Onyewu to score in the Americans' first game.
Clint Dempsey, as the lone American bright spot, showed he belonged in the starting 11, but he was never given the chance because Bruce "I'm so fat I could fill up a whole" Arena probably ate his roster sheet before every game and didn't know he had Dempsey available. I find it hard to take Arena seriously with that Volkswagen around his midsection. It looks like he could tuck it under his crotch and make it touch his lower back.
The Brazilians should be ashamed they wasted arguably the most talent on a World Cup team ever. Argentina - if I played for you, let's just say I wouldn't be going back to the homeland any time soon. There are these things called guns, and if you mix them with angry Argentineans, results are not conducive to living. I don't know a single person who actually liked the way Portugal played or didn't throw a projectile at the TV after a dive, cheap shot, shirt grab, nut clutch or wink by a Portuguese player. France is playing inspired football - and credit for that should go to Patrick Viera, who plays his freaking heart out every game despite having to deal with Janet Jackson (Thierry Henry) and Sinead O'Connor (Zinedine Zidane). Italy's midfield is unbelievable, and even though everyone on the team looks like they would high-five you to your face, then promptly lay down the dirtiest Italian pick-up lines to your girlfriend at a party when you left, the team deserves to be playing in the finals.
Sadly, Sunday will bring the World Cup to a close. Four more years before we get to experience La Fiebre del F£tbol again. So, until then, hide your girlfriends from the Italians, don't go to Argentina unless you plan to practice your pillaging, lick a rusty nail if you actually like Portugal, sing "Nothing Compares" and "Escapade" in honor of the French, pray for Brazil to recover, and last, but certainly not least, go try out for the United States - I hear they're looking for some players. Bruce Arena got hungry again.
