Sunday, April 24, 2005

STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS: FC DALLAS v Real Salt Lake

So the first time Carlos Ruiz went to ground tonight, in the 3rd minute, he got right up. He’s learning about America, the man is.

After that blatant foul, Richard Mulrooney beat our old friend D.J. Countess like a drum on the resulting fee kick. We’re getting off to fast starts at the venerable Cotton Bowl this season. It was a beautiful curling free kick from about 20 yards out; over the wall and just inside the left post. 1-0 for the good guys before the fourth minute is gone. Schweet.

RSL have one of my favorite players, Rusty Pierce. He’s a good tough defender, but I like him simply because he’s from UNCG, where I spent a couple of my junior years. I had about five junior years, but that’s a whole different story. When I was there, The G owned Division III soccer; they were a dynasty. Now they’ve moved up to Division I and have made the NCAA Tournament now and then, but aren’t yet the dominant force they once were.

It pains my heart every time they show a shot of the Inferno; I SHOULD BE THERE WITH THEM! Oh how I wish I had the means to make more home games. The drums sound great and you can hear the singing loud and clear. Travis is wearing the Horn Hat again, I see. I’m hoping he came up with a different method of attaching said horns this week. The last time, well, it wasn’t pretty folks, let me just leave it at that.

Dipsy Selolwane.

I didn’t have a comment; I just really like typing and saying “Dipsy Selolwane”. In fact, I may start using his name as an interjection . . . as in DIPSY SELOLWANE what a goal!!

Clint Mathis should have scored on that volley. Jason Kreis set him up nicely, having made a nice run down the right. I hope Jason got a standing ovation when he was introduced.

OH! 23rd minute: Ruiz just beat Countess, but not the far post, and Talley got to the rebound before D.J., but he was able to make the save.

Marlon Rojas just got Ronnie O’Briened in the box, but our favorite Irishman shot just high with his left foot. Hey I just made up a new adjective for “burned” . . . maybe it’ll catch on. Let’s all try to fit that into a casual conversation this week, shall we?

Eddie Johnson just missed a header from about 10 yards out in the 34th. That’s okay, though; you guys just keep letting him run around unmarked like that . . . I’m begging you .

DIPSY SELOLWANE what a goal! Just as I finished typing the last paragraph, Marlon Rojas got O’Briened again, but this time by Eddie, who nailed the left-footed shot past Countess. 2-0 to the Good Guys, 35th minute.

Halftime.

Rusty Pierce opens the second half by dropping Eddie in the box, but no call was forthcoming. Eddie was down for a few seconds, and you could hear the collective sound of every person in the house sucking wind in fear. Of course it wasn’t many people sucking wind, because it doesn’t look like more than 6,000 in the seats tonight.

Which is depressing.

Jason just forced Scott Garlick into his first real save of the night. And it was a beauty, because Jason hit it well; low and hard across the face of the goal. Scott got low and put a hand on it to keep it out.

Dallas came right back on the counter and Eddie rocketed a shot off the crossbar. I believe D.J. heard the ringing of the crossbar before he even reacted to the shot. The move Eddie put on Rojas . . . well, no one should have to be subjected to that. It just ain’t fair. Poor Marlon may be contemplating his employment alternatives after tonight’s game. It’s been just that bad for the kid.

Simo just got a yellow card, proving beyond all doubt that the Universe is unfolding as it should. It’s really not even an official game until Valakari’s been cautioned, is it?

Rusty Pierce fouls Carlos Ruiz in the box. No, really. He did. Carlos didn’t even have to think about diving. Not that he would ever do anything like that, of course. D.J. had no chance on the PK, and our heroes are now up 3-0.

If it’s not apparent by now, let me just state for the record that RSL have some real defensive issues. The foul that led to the penalty came about only because the great Eddie Pope got truly and goodly scorched by Ruiz, who made a beeline for the box, where Pierce was able to catch up to him, but not tackle him cleanly. ReAL are going to have to score bunches of goals the rest of the season if they’re going to offset this tendency. Bunches.

Eddie Pope and Eddie Johnson got their feet tangled at the top of the RSL penalty area, and they both went down. The referee, Mr. Grajeda, called a foul, and, shockingly, showed Pope a straight red card. For the life of me I don’t think he had that coming. It was barely even a foul. I think there’s an outside chance he may have got tossed for something he said to the ref after the whistle blew, but if so, it must have been something really naughty. Otherwise, I just don’t get it.

Eddie got up after a few minutes on the ground, and he was able to walk off on his own. Still, too scary for me.

On the ensuing free kick, D.J. Countess made one of the best saves of his young life. Ronnie O drilled a shot through the wall, D.J. didn’t even see it until the last second, and he made a gorgeous diving reaction save to his left. The rap on Countess has been that he makes the spectacular look easy, but the easy look difficult. He certainly did the former just then.

Eddie comes back on the field. Everybody can breathe again. At this point, with 10 minutes to go, I’d be happy with the boys being home and dry. After watching Eddie go down like that, my blood lust for a 4th goal has abated somewhat.

Having said that, however, I have to say it’s starting to look like shooting practice on the RSL side of the field. I love, LOVE the fact that Colin Clarke doesn’t have the boys take their foot off the gas in games like this. I think it was Anson Dorrance who once said the greatest respect you can show your opponent is to score as many goals as you can against them.

That’s the game. FCD 3-0 Real Salt Lake. Our boys have 10 points out of 12 possible and lead the West.

Pinch me.

See you next week, kids.

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