Act casual

Last week, I had a gig on Saturday. Normally, I'd head over to Ginger's Ale House to watch the Fire on the road, as it's a very soccer-friendly place, and there are other Fire fans I'm usually looking forward to seeing there. However, the timing was just going to be a pain in the butt, so I figured I'd just watch the Fire-Wizards match in the relative comfort of Goose Island Wrigleyville. Attempts to drag other fans with me mostly fell flat, so after I set my drums up, I ambled up to the bar, had them switch over one of the many TVs in the establishment, and figured I was on my own.

This was not the case, which was a pleasant surprise. First up, the bartender engaged in some informed conversation about the team. It wasn't necessarily well-informed, but he had a good grasp of the particulars. And I was sitting next to a couple of English guys who didn't know much about the team, but were fans of soccer, so they were interested in watching while they were there. Then later in the second half, I struck up a conversation with another guy who also seemed to have a rough idea of what was going on with the team.

I bring this up in order to flog a point I try to make every year with regard to soccer in Chicago, and maybe in America in general. The sort of self-selection that happens when you have these big, organized watch parties in soccer-friendly environs can be problematic in terms of helping sell the game to a wider audience. It's going to be preaching to the choir, for the most part. Now, I know that keeping the choir happy is important, and that, like the English guys at Goose Island, there are soccer fans in those more traditional soccer bars that aren't fans of Major League Soccer who are, in some instances, "low-hanging fruit" when it comes to acquiring new customers.

But I can't help but think that there's a more general sports fan who hears about the Fire, or MLS, or US Soccer, but doesn't currently have the impetus to seek out more information, like when and where to catch a game on TV. These are the guys who are in Wrigleyville sports bars on weekend afternoons. If you can get one or two TVs switched over to a Fire game, they will watch it, because they're fans of sport, and of Chicago.

Soccer oftentimes gets a bum rap from the media, and there's this constant wringing of hands and gnashing of teeth about crotchety old editors who hate the sport and will do whatever it takes to keep it down. However, those guys don't control everything, and a lot of the perceived slight comes out of just a lack of awareness. Perhaps rather than act like a persecuted minority, fans' efforts might be better spent simply watching a game at their local bar, so that the staff realizes that the game is actually on, and that somebody might want to watch it. This sort of "quiet evangelism" toward the casual fan will help the sport be treated simply as part of the overall sports landscape. And that's a battle that's going to be won one TV at a time.

FREEDOM FRIED

The U.S. national team's performance in the Confederations Cup last week was largely a self-fulfilling prophecy. Manager Bruce Arena downplayed the signicance of the tournament, and the team subsequently played down to that level. Some questions about the overall state of U.S. soccer were answered, sure, but they weren't exactly fundamental to the cause. For instance, we learned that defenders Danny Califf and Gregg Berhalter have a lot of work to do if they're going to stay in the player pool. Same for Jovan Kirovski, but there's a sense that he's gotten enough chances to date. Midfielder Chris Armas still isn't back to his old pre-injury self, despite claims to the contrary, and potential replacement Pablo Mastroenni hasn't quite lived up to his expectations, possibly due to his languishing with last-place Colorado in league play. And given our team's history playing in France, I think the fact that we got out with at least one point should count for something. In the grand scheme of things, Brazil didn't make the semis, either.