Sunday, August 3, 2014

Here they come: Liverpool vs. Manchester City

The popularity of soccer is perfectly healthy in the US, if you look at it a certain way.  Forget the World Cup ratings, you know a sport can sustain itself when glorified exhibition games featuring teams from across the ocean can fill up stadiums with engaged, screaming fans.  On Saturday, the University of Michigan's hallowed football arena hosted the most attended soccer game ever held in the US between Manchester United and Real Madrid. 
                I myself had the pleasure of attending a similar friendly at Yankee Stadium between Liverpool FC and Manchester City last Wednesday.  That crowd may not have matched the one in Michigan by numbers but based on my experience they more than matched them in intensity.  Manchester City, relatively new to success, hasn't really attracted a huge devoted following as of yet.  Liverpool fans made up for that, bringing but a small fraction of the passion routine to matches played in their home stadium that still filled the air.  I can guarantee that there was more excitement from the fans, and a higher level of effort from the players, then you will see at any NFL preseason game this August. 
                Stadium staff made a nice touch by playing unofficial-but-ubiquitous Liverpool theme song "You'll Never Walk Alone" before the match, a song whose lyrics everyone seemed to know except for me.  I had to make do sort of mumbling and following everyone's lead.  But the greatest passion was reserved for the club's captain and local legend Steven Gerrard.  He may be as beloved in Liverpool as Yankees legend Derek Jeter is in New York, but a more fitting analogy may be to past Yankee captain Don Mattingly.
                 Mattingly, like Gerrard, is one of the best and most iconic players ever to suit up for his team but tragically failed to win the World Series for the team that can hardly ever do anything but win the World Series.  Liverpool have won the second most English top division titles after Manchester United, but have thus far failed to do so during Gerrard's storied career.  They came close this year, as close as they've been in more than 25 years.  But an untimely slip (not a slip in play, a literal slip-and-fall) from Gerrard himself cost Liverpool a match against Chelsea which would have all but sealed the title.  A blown three goal lead against middling Crystal Palace and it was gone.  The title was taken by their opponent at Yankees Stadium, Manchester City, and their offensive centerpiece and dental assault extraordinaire Luis Suarez was bought by Barcelona.
                Suarez was the best player in English football last season; despite employing talented young attackers Daniel Sturridge and Rasheed Sterling, replacing Suarez's production won't be easy.  That being said, there were positive signs from Liverpool's offense: they frequently created good attacking chances and scored two well-executed goals in the second half.  They offset this somewhat by allowing two incredibly sloppy goals in the same half, one of which came courtesy of another bad slip by Gerrard.  That didn't matter to the faithful though.  He got the biggest cheer of the night when he was subbed out later in the match.
                Of course, some of that excitement probably owes itself to the fleeting nature of the event.  These fans are mostly British ex-patriots taking a rare opportunity to see the team they love in person, like an old high school friend who lives halfway across the country in adulthood.  Others are the children of such ex-patriots, never quite knowing the full measure of Liverpool fandom but experiencing some part of it by attending this friendly. 

                "Oh wait, that's me." I thought to myself as I made these observations at the stadium.  My dad, with whom I attended the game, is originally from Scotland, a place with its own distinct soccer culture but which holds deep ties to English clubs like Liverpool.  Liverpool's premiere striker during their great dynasties of the 70s and 80s was Kenny Dalglish, a fixture on the Scottish national team who had cut his teeth playing for my dad's hometown Glasgow Celtic club during his early years.  Dalglish retired from the game years before I was born, and my dad had lived in the States for years even before that.  But I still felt a connection that day, something that US-based soccer can't yet generate.  Interest is not the same thing as a culture built around the game.  Still need to learn those damn song lyrics though.  

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