MLS All-Stars v West Ham United: Match Report
Years ago I did a bit of sports reportage for the Bayer Lagerkusen News Service, as acting undersecretary of their domestic league desk. Allow me to return to the rusty form for the purposes of chronicling the on-and-off-field activities of last night’s fixture of the MLS All-Stars versus West Ham United.
There was a heightened sense of anticipation with this match which was reflected in a heightened presence of security and an expansion of their procedures. Line-ups to get in the stadium were encumbered by a longer-than-usual delay at the gates where everyone had their bags searched and their scrotums inspected prior to entry. Being a bachelor this week, the extra fondling was welcomed by me but I would have preferred that it was done with greater enthusiasm on the part of the security detail.
At last we were permitted to start buying the $12.75 beers and took to our seats just 10 minutes ahead of the scheduled match time. Those 28oz. beers were long gone by the time the match started because we had to put up with no end of superfluous ceremonies leading up to the start of this titanic contest. There were flags and ribbons and streamers and all that attendant hoopla. For some reason there were two skydivers who came on to the field, one with an enormous Canadian flag streaming from his undercarriage and the other with a red ‘MLS Works’ ball to give over to local-boy-done-good (and missing a ball?) Craig Forrest for a reason that was never quite fully explained. Something to do with helping children play sport instead of becoming child soldiers. I dunno.
Then it was announced that we would be respectful during the playing of the British and American national anthems and the boos began –the crowd suspecting that the Canadian anthem was being brushed aside on this night. Well done, MLS. Now we had to endure the idiots singing Oh Canada in full voice over the American anthem, only to have to sing again when the Canadian flag and anthem were trotted out minutes later.
I must say I find the singing of national anthems at sporting events that are not inter-national competitions to be out-of-place and even disrespectful, bordering on offensive. It’s a custom that’s ludicrously misplaced and has got to go. Last night’s match was not an international friendly of gentlemen of sport representing Canada, Britain, and the United States playing one another; it was a club team from Britain with players from around the globe playing a group of players from the MLS league that was also comprised of players from various parts not found in the Britain-Canada-US triumvirate. So why the hell do we need patriotism/nationalism to take centre stage off the top? It’s got no place in the game at all. Why didn’t we salute the Australian flag and sing for Lucas Neill? How about the Mexican anthem for Cuauhtémoc Blanco, who scored a beautiful goal and was later named match MVP? The Portuguese anthem for Luis Boa Morte –after all, there are plenty of Portuguese in Toronto? The Colombian anthem for Juan Pablo Angel? Julian Faubert was probably hurt that no one sang the Marseillaise for him. Anthems being played randomly at sporting events that aren’t of nations competing against one another is inane and incongruous. Be proud of where you live and by all means respectful to your visitors but figure out when it makes sense to express these noble sentiments! It just cheapens it to spread anthems into every nook and cranny.
OK, now that I’ve calmed down again, let’s resume the match. It was Canada and the United States versus Great Britain. No, wait –hang on! It had been so long I already wondered where I was and where my next beer would be coming from. Thankfully David Beckham was there, reminding us why we had convened. The action began and it was immediately evident that both teams were playing for pride and weren’t simply going to have a friendly kickabout. They were kicking lumps out of each other and actually putting shots on goal, which was a welcome sight at BMO Field. The action was, admittedly, much faster than the average MLS game and also ranged end-to-end with greater frequency.
At the 26th minute, West Ham opened the scoring with a great solo effort from Dean Ashton, who seems rather ornery up close. This was answered back inside of a minute with Blanco setting up Christian Gomez for the equalizer. Top drawer chances came fast and furious and we were rewarded just ahead of half-time with another stunner from Blanco.
At half-time, we drank beer and prognosticated more goals. And more beer. I got to see a guy get kicked out of the stadium for being overly enthusiastic, or something. He had a bit of blood on him and had managed to get some on the cop as well, which was pretty novel. Couldn’t been more than 18 or 19, I would have thought. Well on his way. This was as close as we got to the more substantial fracas from West Ham’s visit to Columbus earlier in the week.
Ashton resumed the second half with more shots on target that Reis did well to keep deflecting but eventually was bested, although in fairness Ashton got a lucky deflection for the equalizer. The Canadian contingent was brought off the bench and Brennan, DeRosario, and Onstad all came on. The biggest cheers were of course for Brennan. In true TFC Supporters’ form, the hail of abuse for players began at minute one and never ended, indeed being spread out to all players (except Brennan) pretty evenly. The TFC fans were sort-of supporting the All-Stars but at the same time heckling them and showering them with streamers just as much as the Hammers. This is our house, after all.
There were chants of “Come home, DeRo!” from some of the crowd and they must have enjoyed his scoring of the winning goal through a penalty kick in the last 20 minutes. Although Angel added another moments later, he was ruled offside. The game concluded and it has to be said we had been given a good show. Beckham, who one had suspected was unwilling to take the turf at BMO Field, played well and seemed to be chummy with his colleagues and appreciative of the fans, even smiling when he was given the streamer treatment for his corners.
With the sporting entertainment having reached its conclusion, the streets surrounding the exhibition grounds started filling with loogans so my man Weezer and I headed to this uptown restaurant that serves deep-fried wings of chicken in sauces of varying heat. A sensible capper to the night, although I once again got home at an not-so-sensible hour and was not happy when I woke up at 6:00 to put the laundry in, so that I might have some clean garb when playing golf this afternoon. Hey, I’m playing golf this afternoon! That’s pretty good, isn’t it? Look for me to be raking sand and drowning balls at Eagle’s Nest (no connection with Adolf’s 50th birthday present, the Kehlsteinhaus) Golf Club later today. There will be beer.
Sorry not to have any pictures of the match, by the way. My camera’s still at the lake.
