I have tried to get into football this year. Not the old American pigskin, but the international version currently being played at the World Cup in Qatar. It’s a struggle for me.
I did not play the game as a child or youth. I knew soccer players, but they tended to keep to their tribe. I assumed they bonded over their love of running and other such activities. Maybe sticking forks in their eyes?
I was a baseball player. My teammates and I would groan when our coach asked us to run to the outfield fence and back. One gains an insightful perspective about the difference between these two sports by comparing umpires — soccer referees look like they have just completed a triathlon, while your typical baseball umpire looks as though he has just completed a third run through the all-you-can-eat buffet.
Admittedly, baseball is no longer America’s pastime. The sport is so less popular than football and basketball that it is vying for attention with soccer … of all things! Major League Baseball has now resorted to imposing time limits between pitches to speed up the games and appeal to younger generations.
But fans like me know that players, coaches and rotund umps are not merely spitting in the dirt between pitches. Baseball is a game of strategic thinking — deciding where the infielders are positioned, the type of pitch to throw and the toppings for hot dogs.
From my limited World Cup research (I keep dozing off in front of the TV), soccer strategy involves somebody kicking the ball down the sidelines, then someone else kicking the ball to the center of the field and finally somebody trying to kick it in the goal. The point seems to be to run as fast and far as you can for as long and hard as you can.
There must be more strategy! Surely, soccer fans could enlighten me just as I might regale them about the back door curveball, sacrifice bunt or sauerkraut.
I emailed a high school friend who, other than his love of soccer, is a perfectly reasonable guy. He explained that the strategy was to kick the ball down the sidelines, then kick the ball to the center of the field and finally try to kick it in the goal. The point was to run as fast and far as you can for as long and hard as you can.
I would rather stick a fork in my eye.
I enjoy the rare occasion when someone actually scores a goal. In fairness, is this not like watching a home run? Does soccer have the equivalent of the Home Run Derby when players try to kick the ball into the net as many times as possible? I’d watch that!
My son and I tried to watch the paint dry that was the recent match between the U.S.A. and England. Later, he asked me about the result — of the game, not my nap. I told him it ended in a tie. He looked blankly at me. Zero to zero, I added.
“But Dad, who won?”
Maybe not everything has to be win or lose. I don’t have to compare sports to each other. They can just be different and unique. Neither better nor worse.
But if you need me, I’ll be waiting for spring over here with the mustard and relish. No forks required.
Andrew Taylor-Troutman is the pastor of Chapel in the Pines Presbyterian Church. His newly-published book is a collection of his columns for the Chatham News + Record titled “Hope Matters: Churchless Sermons.”