Origins of the Beautiful Game - a Christmas Parody

Because it's the Christmas I thought an examination of the Michelangelo's beautiful artwork high on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel was in order.  A friend sent me this interactive link so you can rotate and zoom to most of the biblical scenes.   But here is a still shot to help you orient yourself to what's going on in there.  It's a pretty busy place and Michelangelo was a pretty busy guy from July 1508 to October 1512.  Some of the history behind his work can be found at Art History.  As we examined the work in detail this holiday season a different sort of story began to emerge.  Something else was going on in these paintings that was hard to understand.  Looking straight up in the center of the Chapel it appears that God himself is hurling himself from the painting in an effort to do something.  It's not entirely clear what He intends to do until you understand the history of the painting. Over the past 500 years the painting has been altered in ways that have covered up important details and in other cases exposed additional evidence.

Using the latest in forensic art examination techniques, as well as with cameras, and special lighting, we were able to uncover some secrets that were hidden from current view long ago.  We believe, that these secrets were in fact intended and painted by the master.  Once the secrets have been uncovered one can little deny the action that is going on in each scene.   In this particular one we have what appears to be an early ancestor of Wayne Rooney winding up for a thunderous strike through the goal posts of heaven as an unknown defender possibly Italian, slides in.  The intentions of the Big Guy are clear.  He is diving off his line to make the save.  The human body is beautiful.  Apart from his sculptures Michelangelo has been able to capture the movement of the human body in ways that can only be expressed through a beautiful game.  He has captured the beauty of these movements exquisitely.

As we continued to study each fresco, more and more elements of the beautiful game began to emerge...some not so exquisite.   One element of the game which continues to be a vexing problem within the international community is why do Italian strikers seem to fall to ground too easily? Well from this famous scene there can be no doubt the technique was well understood many centuries ago.  It takes little or no imagination to understand what's going on here.  In modern day football this scene would demonstrate how English defender John Terri could step in to win the ball from Italian striker Fransesco Totti.  Henceforth, Totti would dive to the ground with seemingly little or no contact… but the tremendous amount of pain in his face is registered for all to see, including the ref!  Now we understand completely how Italian strikers learned how to dive...it's been ingrained in their culture from a very early time.

Whether or not Totti should be punished is a question of judgement.  The commandments, as they have been established quite clearly by FIFA, penalize overt attempts to deceive the Ref  with a Red Card.  In this scene the Ref clearly is able to discern what's really in the heart of man.  He recognizes the trickery and rewards Totti with a sending off and documents the offence in the proverbial book.

At the other end of the pitch (or Chapel) even more scenes are depicted.  In this one a distant ancestor of Gianluigi Buffon, saves a certain goal scoring attempt.  It was definitely a clean save with  no foul (as indicated by the “play-on” gesture by the ref in the immediate background) despite the protests of the Italian defenders.  However, the FIFA rules regarding the protection of the keeper were not fully recognized by all back then.  Therefore, most defenders were wearing a form of padded leather cap to protect themselves from marauding Europeans entering the box at full flight.

Whereas leather is no longer used, it is clear that modern goalkeepers did not invent the use of the “scrum cap” to prevent further head injury.  The material, however,  has changed.  A synthetic, it is lighter and offers even greater protection.  In this photo, Petr Cech displays the proper use of this important headgear.

Finally, what would the beautiful game be without advertising? We know from history that Michelangelo had a heck of a time getting paid for the painting he did in the chapel.  Throughout the mosaic evidence of Michelangelo's attempts to find sponsorship were uncovered.  In this particular scene we learned more about the game then just who was paying for advertising space. Clearly, since Australian kangaroo leather had yet to be discovered, the early Italian soccer shoe designers experimented with lamb’s skin.  Undoubtedly this additional use of the material insured employment of Sheppard's for several more decades. 

I'm sure many more secrets exist within the masterpiece yet to be uncovered.  But please consider these few alternative beautiful moments as you enjoy a joyous holiday season.

Letter to A Bureaucrat

This post was written a few years ago - there was never a resolution. We lost.

Recently a friend of mine who plays lunchtime pickup game of soccer received an email from a bureaucrat with the National Park Service. The email required that the lunchtime pickup game of soccer be ended. A quote from the email reads, “The National Park Service (George Washington Memorial Parkway) operates under a series of regulations which are designed to protect the resources and we are not at liberty to randomly enforce them”. Then he cites from the regulation, 36 CFR (7-1-01 Edition), Ch. 1 Part 7.96. He obviously believes he is enforcing this regulation and therefore applies it to the casual game of lunchtime pickup soccer that now must end.

First some history-
Pick-up soccer, as with all pick-up games, is not an organized athletic event. Running at lunchtime, even though many people may do it, is not an organized event either. To suggest that lunch is an organized activity is a bizarre twist of facts. Pick-up soccer, for those who play several times a week, is indeed as regular as clockwork. It is far from organized. It is not the competition that compels us to play – a necessary aspect of all organized athletics. It is not the physical exercise. What compels players to play pick up soccer is the sheer freedom of this activity. There is no league, there are no fees, and thus there is no profit. There are no boundaries, there are no team loyalties, there is no championship match, and there are no winners or losers. This lack of organization is exactly what makes this activity of great appeal to those who play. There is only a fellowship with the grass, a diversion from our daily thoughts, and the ability to breathe fresh air.

All it takes to play soccer is a patch of grass. In many parts of the world grass isn’t even a requirement. It’s tough to say that a pick-up game of soccer played by children on a dirt lot in a small town in Central America is an organized sport simply because it is played everyday at the same time – after school. It is tough to say any pick-up game is an organized affair. It is by its very nature an unorganized game that “picks-up” when the time and condition are right. Lunchtime, recess, or a carefree Sunday morning are all the right times. A patch of grass is the right condition.

In most pick-up games last names are unknown, first names and nicknames are all that are used. There are no rosters. If you come to a pick-up game played at the Pentagon long enough you will run into many faces that you recognize – but not the uniforms. It’s surprising to note that the player you passed the ball to yesterday is wearing the rank of Lt Cmdr in the US Navy today. It’s surprising to note that the player who beat you in the air and scored with his head after a perfectly crossed ball was a Senior Airman in the US Air Force. It’s also surprising to note that on this occasion a Brigadier General in the US Army showed up and crossed the ball to the Senior Airman.

Our patch of grass was originally the rolling park beneath the Pentagon mall entrance. The game was played three days a week all year long and had been occurring for the past 25 years. That game was disrupted when the new postal facility was constructed to move potential threats from these deliveries. The Pentagon Building manager and Pentagon Grounds Manager responded quickly to allow us to meet at lunch on the lower drill field just above the marina. Here we ran and played below the windows of Cohen and later Rumsfeld. And this patch of grass was unlike any other soccer pitch any of us had ever played on. 100% grass – but not just any grass – a soft thick carpet of grass with soft earth to hold the roots and allow the grass to grow and thrive. Some different rules applied – no playing when the ground was wet or after the first snow, no playing again until after the new seed in the spring began to germinate. We can play within these rules. Unfortunately this patch of heaven was violently ripped from our hands after 9/11 after which the Pentagon Helicopter Port was temporarily moved to our patch of grass. For a time we played on – sharing the field with our rotary winged friends. We stopped only for their arrival or departure – unable to hear from the turbine noise but able to feel every beat of the blades and the burst of wind from the rotor wash. 9/11 also took one of our own – Navy Lt Cmdr Bill Donovan. Most of us did not know his last name or rank until his picture appeared in the news. We stood down for a few days to honor those who fell. We continue to play on to honor those who fell.

With new construction about to reroute Route 110 directly across our sacred grass we will permanently lose this playing area. We looked to the National Park Land that surrounds the Pentagon for an alternate location. We found one - A large grassy island in the middle of the George Washington Parkway. There are no nature trails, there is no wildlife in harms way, and there is no risk of environmental damage. Since we have been playing there we have heard no complaints from the owners of this property - the public - and we have interfered with no one. It is our national park – we live in the National Capital Region. We would like to use our national park system. But we cannot for the regulation reads: “(b) Athletics - (1) Permits for organized games; "Playing baseball, football, croquet, tennis, and other organized games or sports except pursuant to a permit and upon the grounds provided for such purposes, is prohibited."

Oddly enough under the same regulation, although we cannot play an organized game we could assemble in an organized protest. Therefore it is time to organize a protest. This protest would be a demonstration of our rights to use our national parks in ways that strengthen our minds and bodies. This protest would take the form of a non-violent activity. We would play soccer. Five days a week, all year long. Here is how it would work. Everyday, a number of players would arrive at the patch of grass known as Columbia Island/Lady Bird Johnson Park. It lies smack between opposing directions of George Washington Parkway just north of Lady Bird Johnson Park. This protest would be held daily between 12 pm and 1 pm. The protest will consist of a group of protesters continuously running through the grass for exactly 60 minutes each day. The protestors will zigzag, crisscross, run sideways, forwards, and back and forth. And the demonstrators will kick the head of a government bureaucrat at the National Park Service between their feet. Occasionally they will take aim and shoot the ball in an attempt to bounce this effigy off one of two portable soapboxes placed at each end of the park. These soapboxes are permitted structures allowed under the regulation and are positioned for orators to speak from in the event someone would like to talk at our protests – it’s not required that anyone speaks. We cannot play – organized games are prohibited. We can certainly protest – and the best part of this is that we will not require a permit. Protests that number less than 25 do not require such organization and planning – unless it is anticipated that a large crowd will be drawn to watch. Drawing a crowd seems unlikely as this particular patch of grass is an island locked between lanes of traffic on George Washington Parkway. It’s about a mile run from the closest building, the Pentagon. And there are no trails to or through this section of the national park. There are also no concessions, facilities, or benches to sit on.

This is our national park. This land belongs to everyone. This land does not belong to some pencil neck bureaucrat who temporarily has the job of “protecting the resources” and ensuring that he does not “randomly enforce” his sacred regulations. If the Pentagon were in Yosemite we might choose to rock climb at lunch. If the Pentagon were in Yellowstone we might choose to hunt or fish. These parks also belong to us as well. They are just a little less convenient to get to on our lunch break. This particular park happens to be a fairly flat stretch of grass within our lunchtime reach. Some individuals chose to spend this time running like children at recess through this National grass. There is no organization and there is no protest in doing so. There is freedom and the ability to breathe. What more can they ask? What better use is there for our National Parks?

Racing -- The Tour de France

In the past 104 years of true sporting legend I am but a toddler, a very young, perhaps 4 or 5-year-old fan of the Tour de France. As with all young children I jumped in the Tour de France or TdF as true fans refer to it in writing, with both feet. I reluctantly admit that I became a fan during the waning days of the Armstrong dynasty, as many did. I am reluctant to admit this fact because I consider myself an independent thinker, not one to follow the masses. Yet still, cycle racing remains a low priority for most American’s even in the wake of Armstrong, so I don’t feel too bad about my “independent” decision.

Prior to becoming a rabid fan of the TdF I typically would spend long summer months wishing for the chance to watch the FIFA World Cup on ESPN. Every year, during the month of June, I count the seasons until the next World Cup. The chance comes only once every four years and I therefore I must wait patiently. Then I found the TdF on the Outdoor Living Network (OLN), just one click down on my cable line-up. Suddenly life during the summer had meaning – at least until the end of July. I was not brand new to cycling – I still have a nice bike I purchased with paper route money in 1978 – it still has the old style toe clips and only 12 speeds but it was state of the art 30 years ago. And I am familiar with the names of Greg LeMond, Miguel Indurain, and even Eddy Merckx. But when I was a kid in the 80’s I was not passionate either about the TdF or cycling in general. Every kid in the United States has a bicycle after all but the ubiquitous passion is lacking. For the last 4 years however, the TdF has lifted my spirits – both anticipating its start, early in the summer, and thinking about it’s conclusion, as the summer passed into the fall.

And now, just as quickly as I became a fan, the TdF has lost luster and is on the verge of becoming a hollow event. Something has occurred that disrupts my security and has sent me away scratching my head. The TdF has been violated. I feel like a victim – there clearly are many victims though as the TdF concludes in Paris on this very day. The TdF spin-doctors would have you believe the fans have their sport back and all is right with the world. But there are victims and there will be more -- the sponsors, the so called clean riders, the cities and towns along the route, and of course the riders who have been found cheating. Anyone can claim to be a victim – so I will also put in my claim to be a victim. I don’t put money into this sport. My impact on this sport is so small, so inconsequential; I stand nothing to gain from it. I have no favorites. I have no investment – but I feel like I am losing all the value that once appeared before me. The sport, the event, the contest, is being destroyed before my eyes and it is painful to watch. Only those of us who are clean – and I don’t mean in the doping sense – those who in this sport stand to profit nothing are the ones I am describing as clean. But does that make us victims or just innocent of any crime? Everyone else who has an agenda must be the real perpetrators. Whether they have a favorite team or favorite rider, whether they are in it for the money or the prestige, I question who in this sport has not stood by for decades knowing that there was cheating going on? If the event started 104 years ago, the cheating started 103 years ago. If doping is a problem then I blame the guilty - but that doesn't necessarily mean they are the criminals. I’ve only been a fan for a few years but I know many riders are cheating – the most grueling sport on the planet waged over 20+ straight days. At the expense of insulting more than a few riders, yeah right. And even if direct cheating isn't going on, who hasn’t been under suspicion or at a minimum been accused of some violation if they performed well? And furthermore, who hasn't at a minimum suspected someone else of competitive malfeasance.

Every champion for decades has been accused. But it’s not just cycling, right? It’s every professional sport. So do we just cancel professional sports out right? Or do we wake up to the reality that sports are much more a spectacle of entertainment and far less one of human achievement. A race is about the race. It is the excitement of charging full speed for some line in the sand, to get there first. It is, or has to be, the very oldest of human competitions. It requires nothing more that the very primordial desire to get some place first – probably, and most likely, to be first to the dinner table. We all race, it’s in our blood. The question is at what level do be begin to cheat? Because after that very first primordial race, after there was declared a victorious winner and a sorry loser, there was a second race. Two things happened. First the loser started looking for a way to gain an advantage. Second the winner started looking for a way to keep the advantage. If the race is close, it’s exciting. If it’s a rout it’s not a race. A race must be close and someone must be able to gain the advantage in order to win or it wouldn’t be exciting. Is that wrong? Or is that just racing?Let’s stop kidding ourselves and this is important. Everyone is dirty because everyone is always looking for an advantage. The question is where is the line between what is an accepted advantage, money to purchase a lighter bike for instance, and what is not an accepted advantage, such as taking a banned substance? Drafting, the technique of placing yourself in the slip stream of the rider in front of you, is, at its very basic nature, cheating. But what would racing be without the technique of drafting? Again, if the race is close, the race is exciting. I’ve been an amateur motorcycle racer – I could not afford an expensive machine. My bike was 10 years old. I could have taken all the EPO in the world but I was never going to win on my old machine. But performance-enhancing drugs don’t help too much in a motor sport – at least they don’t at my level. No it would be easier for me to modify my machine with some banned apparatus to get more horsepower. But my bike is required to go through a technical inspection. I could never win based on my talents alone – what was required was that I purchase a new motorcycle – that would give me an advantage over many riders and that would be acceptable. Didn't I just buy myself to the front of the race? And those who stand to profit most from my purchase just happen to be in the business of making racing motorcycles and putting on motorcycle races.

The problem is that there should be rules of fair play in athletic competitions – there should be in sports – gracious humble winners and good losers. We need more of folks with that attitude. Now take pro wrestling as another example. Hell, we know that Pro wrestling is rigged and it’s still exciting. But a rigged race wouldn’t be exciting at all. So in the same vane, does having the money to buy better equipment constitute cheating as well, just because it’s allowed by the rules? I happen to think it does. And this is why -- it’s all about the money, it’s not about the race. The sport of cycle racing is comprised of those who have money and those who want more of it – it’s a business. This sport, all sports, any sport where there is money involved, expect it to be dirty.

So should we police the sport – should we strive to keep it clean? The answer no – because it is dirty by its very nature. Gaining the advantage is by it’s very nature the art of racing. Ask NASCAR. But trying to gain the advantage is present in any professional sport, although it’s the very essence of racing. Yes we should have some rules – to keep sports from descending into anarchy and of course to generally protect the safety of the participants. But with racing, it is the excitement of using your advantage to overcome the adversity just in the final closing yards.Unfortunately it is not the drive to gain the advantage that is destroying the TdF and other sports; it’s the hypocritical cheaters that are destroying the TdF as well as other events. It is these self-righteous cheaters who are destroying every good venue by going on witch hunts. These witch hunters are hypocrites because they are trying to gain their own advantage. They are trying to over turn their perception of an unfair advantage with their own style of advantage – that of accusing the winners of cheating. They are trying to take the advantage off the track to establish the winners and the losers of the race on the track. If your team loses don’t accept the loss. Accuse the winners of cheating. This is the very pinnacle of being a sore loser. But it’s not necessarily the athletes who are the sore losers, it’s the teams and sponsors and organizers the countryman and the media whose money, pride, or lack of a good story that is in jeopardy. This is the height of irony. It’s so pervasive that in some countries they reward the treacherous for being sly enough to gain a tactical advantage, either on or off the battleground. Competition, and perhaps the more serious revelation that the primordial rush to the dinner table meant the difference between life and death, at it’s root, is life or death, means that treachery means survival. And if you remember the Great Coach of the Liverpool Football Club, Bill Shankly once said, 'Some people believe football is a matter of life and death. I'm very disappointed with that attitude. I can assure you it is much, much more important than that.' It is the primordial rush to the dinner table that constitutes a race and that is what makes it exciting to witness, over and over again, in every athletic competition, save the Olympics which does reserve a special place for human achievement. But rarely, if ever, are professional sports about anything but who gets to eat. Your job is to put food on the table, a lot of food. When you put food on the table, you are eliminating food from the other guy’s table. Professional wrestling learned that if they control the entertainment medium and make the entire event a shame they could make even more money.

But to control a racing event, where no one has the advantage, would be like riding go-carts at the beach. It simply wouldn’t be a race if no one could find an advantage – because no one would win. It’s like bob sled racing – where the winner and the loser is separated by 100th of a second. That’s a ridiculous race – you might as well drop two marbles to the floor and time their arrival and declare a winner or a loser. There really are no winners or losers in this type of event; although we have to name one. So back to the TdF, who are the victims? Yes there should be rules. Establish the rules and stick to the rules. But don’t make the rules so restrictive that the race is won off the track – or rules that give those other than the athlete’s control of the outcome of the race. Yes there will be cheating and those caught breaking the rules can sit out the next race. The very essence of racing is gaining the advantage – the only difference is where the creativity to win comes from that can move the sport forward. If we ban everyone trying to find an advantage, trying to race, there will be no one left on the road. Further, if we don’t let the winners win and the losers lose on the track then we will let the hypocrites settle the race off the track. Those are the true bad guys and the reason you see push back from many racing teams on the issue of doping. The teams are trying to race, trying to win. But the team itself doesn't stand as much to lose as the rider. It is the rider's blood and sweat that gets left on the roads through France. It is the rider who is pushed to the brink both physically and mentally day in and day out. It is the rider who is under so much pressure to find an advantage who rolls the dice and pushes hard against the rules. And when they have ridden hard through hell, experienced pain for hours on end, reached to top of an arduous climb, and finally crossed through the finish line throwing their hands skyward, we relish their victory. Then the cowardly hypocrites emerge looking to strip them of their victory on the road. Sometimes they succeed. If they win the punishment for trying to gain the advantage becomes absolute. A rider's career is over. After dedicating most of their life with countless hours in the saddle training for such a small moment in time as a stage victory in the Tour de France. Those who have not won, have not yet found the advantages that will take them over the top first -- and there are many advantages necessary. I therefore give you the true victim's of what we have been witnessing in France this month. Those who are pushed to the brink and look just a bit too far for the winning advantage. Does their punishment fit the crime? Are the real criminals prosecuted? The answer to both questions has to be no.

So where do we go from here? A tradition that spans 104 years cannot be given up lightly, nor should it be. Something will change. It has too. The TdF will lose fans, coverage, and sponsorship. Those who love the sport will keep it alive no matter how low it sinks on the horizon. Riders will keep coming - thriving on the ultimate race and test off their skills - and fortunately, they will continue to look for an advantage be it tactical, physical, or mechanical. And I'm glad they will because that's what racing is all about. So let's not give up on the TdF, yes let’s keep it safe. But let’s also keep the essence of racing alive for those of us who simply enjoy a great race.

The Beautiful Game

It is only with great arrogance that one argues the virtues of one poor analogy over an equally shortsighted example. It is with this same arrogance that I speak up in defense of my chosen sport – futball to the rest of the world – soccer here in the United States. I play soccer to gain both physical and mental fitness. Playing soccer correctly requires agility, stamina, and creativity. The Brazilians call it the beautiful game because when it is played with finesse and timing it can mesmerize the viewer, not unlike a well-choreographed ballet. Yet it is not the only sport that can captivate an audience. All sports can have beauty when the human body exhibits fluid motion – gymnastics, tennis, and figure skating fall into this category. Played as a team – ice hockey, basketball, and soccer are played fluidly and produce a range of human motion. Even American football, although played in a series of short intervals, contains human motion that can be defined as beautiful. Only team sports, as opposed to individual competitions, possess the necessary element of combat to warrant an analogy with warfare and how it is waged. It is here that my contribution to this discussion begins.

I grew up playing America football. My earliest memories playing football include wearing the Cleveland Browns uniform my parents purchased out of the Sears Christmas Catalog – not because I liked Cleveland, but rather because I liked the orange helmet. All of the NFL uniforms were available and they were neatly laid out in neatly in the pages of the catalog. I remember scanning those pages for hours before finally making my choice. Strangely my best friend also received a Cleveland Browns uniform for Christmas and coincidently our two friends up the street both got Los Angeles Rams uniforms. With my friend’s older brother – who played for the local high school team – acting as a quarterback for both sides, we played well through summer. We huddled, we planned, we ran, we blocked, we faked, we moved slowly up the field. We scored. I also remember attending the high school games – always with my eyes locked on the wide receiver – our special backyard quarterback.

Next up in my memory bank comes the punt, pass, and kick competition. I didn’t fare too well in these events. My friend has a shelf full of trophies. I wanted to win a trophy one day. When it became time to join a league team I had already moved away and was introduced to soccer – perhaps there was another way to win a trophy. I continued to play sand lot football with my new friends on my new street, but when it was time to play a team sport, soccer was already stealing my heart. Although everything still revolved around football, nobody seemed to notice I was playing soccer and nobody seemed to care – it wasn’t until I started receiving Sports Illustrated magazine that I noticed somebody did care. I’m quite certain that between 1970 and 1980 SI didn’t even know that soccer was a sport. Our culture revolved around football, and despite what Chevrolet may contend football had usurped the more prominent American pastime of baseball.

Holidays, of course, were not complete without football on TV. The entire family stuffed with turkey in the family room watching the games. Who didn’t participate in this cultural conditioner? Up until this point this conditioning was all subconscious – it happened without much choice. Consciously, I took an active interest in football as a spectator when I arrived in high school. Everything centered on the football team. The weight room, the private locker room, the best uniforms, the marching band, and, of course, the cheerleaders all seemed to exist for the support of the football team. I still didn’t much about money or consider the financial side of things. All I knew about money was that the football team didn’t have fundraisers. The track team went door-to-door collecting newspapers to recycle. The band just went door-to-door begging. But every Friday night you were expected to be at the football game. That’s where your friends were. That’s where the girls were – and if you were lucky – that’s where your first kiss occurred. The pep rallies, the bonfires, the homecoming (I still don’t understand homecoming) – but I do know selecting the homecoming queen is a popularity contest. Cliques were formed – the popular guys dated the popular girls. The geeks hung out with the band. The druggies smoked cigarettes under the bleachers. Everybody was present and accounted for at those Friday night games. The cultural brain washing was nearly complete by the time we graduated from high school. Those who chose to go to college would leave their high school teams behind in favor of the great college squads. Those who did not go to college began following their father’s favorite pro team or shifted to stockcar racing.

I went to college and again received a healthy dose of football Americana. I stood through every college game I attended. I spend the week before the game finding a date to bring. I went to the pep rallies and the bon fires. I lived for the weekends – and, as a bonus, we could now drink beer at the stadium. We drank before the games and after the games as well. We drank either to celebrate a victory or to drown out a defeat, it didn’t matter – although you might celebrate with a more expensive import choosing to drown your sorrows with a cheaper domestic. If you were really lucking you would have sex with your date back in the dorm. If you were really really lucking you would have sex with your date at midnight on the fifty-yard line. If you were not so lucking you would spend the night throwing up in the toilet. What’s not to love about football?

But what does any of this have to do with warfare and the way the United States military conducts operations? If you haven’t been paying attention it is the arrogance of a winner that has drawn the ire of our adversaries. It is precisely our belief in the complete and total dominance of our adversary that makes us a winner – but we can only win doing what we know we can do best – we are the best at playing football. And, in case you haven’t noticed, it is football that has emerged as the champion of our capitalist society. Football wins the race for the money with advertising space during the Superbowl still the most valuable airtime in the history of television.

It is precisely this strategy of total dominance that leads to the criticism of football’s focus on centralized command and centralized control as the wrong way to do business during a conflict. But as we know, total domination, is the only way to do business when American lives are at stake. You go tell the mom or dad that their son or daughter died in combat because it was necessary to go easy on the enemy – they were getting their feelings hurt so we backed off a little. We didn’t want to run up the score, it might upset them and make the rivalry game next year just that much more difficult. It would be poor form like to run up the score. That’s a load of crap! Of course we run up the score in combat. We hit them with everything we’ve got, and then some. The point is that we’ve got more than football in our bag of tricks – we’ve got soccer too, as well as hockey, and basketball – we just haven’t learned about flexibility, about other ways to do things, that sometimes you can get more done with a carrot than a hammer. That’s the entire first article by Li and was attempting to point out. Not to attack the sacrosanct sport of our culture. American men have not learned the lesson. American women – perhaps filling the void caused by not being allowed to play football – have learned the lesson. Have you ever heard of Mia Hamm or Christine Lilly. This year, Pele (Does he need an introduction?) recently named the greatest 100 soccer players of all time. His list included 98 men from all over the world; none are from the United States. The list also includes 2 women – you guessed it – Mia Hamm and Christine Lilly who were both born and bred in the USA.

The men’s World Cup was held in Korea and Japan in 2002. The US men’s team produced their best showing ever. It was a competition to behold – with one of the greatest finals of all time pitting the mighty game played by the German’s against the beautiful game play by Brazil. An estimated 1 billion soccer fans worldwide witnessed this spectacle. Never was a venue more ripe for the political picking – soccer was absent from the US political agenda. No picking occurred. Although our political machine did not show up for the photo op, American corporations did show up to display their wares on this global billboard.

The Women’s World Cup was held last summer in the United States. It was supposed to be held in China – but with the outbreak SARS – world travel plans were changed. I still wonder if anyone in our government knows or cares that during the competition the North Korean’s were playing for honor and glory in our heartland – Columbus, Ohio to be exact. China also brought their team. Another great venue ripe for the political picking was ignored. Not stupidity – mostly out of ignorance with a smattering of arrogance.

So there is much more this Country and our military can learn from the sport of soccer. I will not belabor the commentaries that have come before this – except to say soccer is closer aligned with a revolution in military affairs in that the transformational war fighting construct that it and other sports of a continuous and free flowing nature (basketball, hockey, etc.) demonstrate is one of shared awareness and the ability to self synchronize. On the gridiron, awareness is far from shared. Viewing each facemask can assess the necessary level of awareness for each player. The more bars on the cage the less awareness necessary. And on each set play, everyone has very specific instructions. Contrast that with the requirement for everyone on the field, court, or ice to know the position of the ball or puck and the relative position and capability of player engaged in the battle. No additional coordination is necessary. If an attacker is moving down the wing his job is to cross the ball into the penalty box. It is the requirement for the striker to be aware that the run is taking place and to synchronize their own run to have their head or stick on the end of the ball or puck when the cross comes.
It is of course sheer folly to make these black and white comparisons. War is the most complex of all human endeavors. What we do know for certain about the nature of warfare is that it is an uncertain business. The fog of war permeates everything. Preparing for all strategic contingencies is resource prohibitive. Preparing for the Superbowl is a noble calling if the game is actually played. Having the flexibility to adapt to a different strategy is more important if the competition fails to enter the stadium on Superbowl Sunday – or moves the ball off the soccer field as been suggested. When that day comes let’s not get caught in the stadium alone or stacked at the line of scrimmage. A pick-up game of soccer in the parking lot may be all that we have left or a lone goalkeeper standing in the net when the ball comes back on the field. Let’s make sure we have some good all-purpose athletic shoes in the trunk of the car and the knowledge of many games – we might even have to play basketball.