In an effort to abridge this montage of tailgate memories, these recaps have been known to waste some virtual paper with their length and content, you may notice some of your favorite parts of the Print have been left on the editing room floor. Fear not Fan of the Foot, I have selected only the most choice events and damning details in an effort to be brief but fair. Basically I included the stuff I had jokes for (yes, they are jokes, just cause you don't laugh doesn't change their DNA).
DCU v. LA Gay-laxy
It is always a big deal when that light in the loafers limey comes to town, and this time was no exception. Personally I prefer the imported German fermented beverage to this over the hill tattooed tea drinker, plus, I'm Welsh. Anyway, a Landon-less Galaxy was set to take on the Boys in Black and Becks, and the BlackFoot, were there. We packed up, headed to blah blah blah blah and parked in our usual spot. What can I say about this tailgate? It was like a whose who of who's that? Honestly, I felt like I didn't even know myself. Needless to say the BlackFoot boarders were overrun with FourPeak drinking freeloaders. Although, it was nice to have a big crowd for once (message sent. message received?). And a big crowd we had, mostly made up of Fringe Footers so fringe that one could say they don't even qualify for the title of Fringe, I don't know where that leaves them exactly, but if you are a golfer you will understand what I mean when I call them Fairway Footers. It made for a good tailgate, it meant that you could not find a seat and it makes for good word of mouth, if they had fun that is. Shit, I forgot about that bit.
We had a good kick-around and some classic Saunders v. Saunders arguments that had everyone scratching their heads, most likely wondering where they could find a length of rope and a low sturdy branch in the middle of Legendary Lot 8. I managed to find a branch . . . but no rope. In a true testament to good planning the Chef made a last minute decision to bring his grill, which he did save for the actual grill bit. That, like common sense, he left behind. No worries, Chef turned to his new supplemental income career of, wait for it, BORROWING. In a moment of sublime intervention there happened to be tailgaters (if you can call them that) close by with the same exact grill and, consequently, the same grill bit. Hammer, and I cannot stress this enough, BORROWED said grill bit and was able to fire up some real high school freshman fare. Fine dining began and ended with 5th period lunch for this guy. Hammer then, and I cannot stress this enough, RETURNED the very grill bit he borrowed putting an end to his flame broiled folly. Yours truly didn't participate but I heard the food was, okay.
We ditched the dense masses and made our way into the stadium high on the possibility of a DCU victory, well that and, let's say, life. Once inside we were treated to some last season antics by the Boys in Black as they gave up an early goal. Becks (damn it!) put in a lovely corner that was tucked away by some asshole. Memories, in the corner of my mind, but hopefully not the cornerstone of this still fledgling season. Fear not Foot Faithful, the f'ing new guy came in during the second half to rescue a potentially pivotal point. The DCU goal, when it came, was a result of the dubious dive and subsequent spot kick special of none other than that recently defunct musical media, CD. Tony Montana's late PK earned the Red and Black that previously mentioned point and salvaged the night for the Foot and fans.
DCU @ Toronto F(rench)C(anadians)
Don't worry, as this was an away game it will be very quick. The Boys in Black traveled to the Great White Waste to lay a serious merde-storm on the clueless Canucks. PartyBoy tore off his rip away sweat pants and, threaded in naught but a thong, danced all evening to the tune of two goals. Two nice goals. The primarily productive Frankenstein put in his, what at the time was, 5th and league leading goal. 3-0 to the good guys who wear black and then they got the hell out of Dodge.
DCU v. NY BlueBalls
This too will be an adventure in efficiency as it was a weekday(night) game and the tailgate was kept mercifully short. The Foot Faithful met at the Head of Security's (honorary title I am guessing) house and headed out to what has become our Home away from Home. Some beers, some cheese, some clever comments and some abysmal arguments and it was time to go in. Now, at the risk of being labeled a Judas, a BlackFoot Benedict Arnold if you will, I admit that I was interested in seeing the former Hero of Highbury, the French Finisher, Thiery Henry himself. I won't waste your time by prefacing this with the fact that I am a big Gunners fan or even the fact that I can appreciate great soccer even if played by my mortal enemy, I will simply do with this topic what Pilate (might as well stick with the Bible references) did with Jesus's fate, and what Sanders never does after a visit to the pissoir (and the French ones), and that is wash my hands of it.
So fate favored the Frog and he had himself quite a night at the expense, and to the chagrin, of everything DCU and BFFC. The Frenchy had two goals and an assist and, when added with the efforts of the US National team Johnny Come Lately, i.e. Juan Agudelo (which, although we missed, I have since seen it and it was quite an impressive piece of footballing) left the Black and Red on the wrong side of 4-0 thumping. Merde. Surely there must be good things on the horizon for United and brief boss Benji, right? We find ourselves in a place that DC United fans, and followers of the Foot, find all to familiar: bottom of the table.
DCU v. Pew England Revolution (Cup Game, @ MD)
United dropped a cup game to the Revolution. Personally I hope we never see those Nor'easters again, but it's in their name isn't it? They'll come around again. Some of the Foot Faithful were in attendance, the Chef and Timetable I believe. Bye bye Bronco, a tough break of his ACL (or was it MCL, I can never get that right) is truly a tough break for the Boys in Black. The only thing tougher than a Chef cooked steak is, at the moment, our luck.
DCU @ Whoston Dyna -ho-mo
Things are not looking good, 4-1 to the fags. Fuck.
DCU v. Sea-fattle Flounders
What's this? Are things looking up and is the ball finally bouncing Benji's way? Two beautiful goals, one by Wolff (there's two F's in Wolff boys!) and set up by Dr. Evil and the other vice versa, helped stave off a late rally by the Fat Bastards (like how I am stringing together my references?) as they put away a late PK to make the final 2-1 to United. Again, a few Footers were in attendance (I think?) to witness what has become all to elusive, a win. Of note was Najar who played a great game and hopefully has finally earned the trust of his manager. He must know that Dax McCarty plays football like Dax Shepard acts. Awful.
So there we have it, all the oohs and ahhs of what has so far been a ho hum season. Good things may be a'Foot but it looks like it will be peppered (Chef, that is a seasoning often used in cooking) with poor play and pitiful results. One can always be hopeful though. There is one more issue worth bringing up before I sign off and that is a rare rift that has recently been rising among the Mighty BlackFoot. The Footophiles are apparently audiophiles as well, and the soundtrack to our season has suddenly come under serious fire. At the center of the controversy, of course, are the common combatants of the Colonel of Music and Chef Hammer. Mind you, this is no Fray at RFK, yet, but it definitely warrants a few words. It seams that the Colonel has gone Dictator and is being accused of Widespreading his musical choices around. (Say what you want about this blog, and I a sure you will, but I thought that last line was terribly clever.) The Chef has gone Phishing and reeled in some serious complaints about the bands played, or not played. It is a classic SouthEast (Athens) v. NorthEast (Vermont) civil war. I am not sure who is going to win but if either of them have your email address I can tell you that you lose. I think it is fair to say the the Foot have found themselves in the middle of a musical jam - band that is. Also of musical note is that the curtain has been pulled back on the once feared Head of Security to reveal a 13 year old schoolgirl. In accordance with FCC regulations I will not list the tween and teen requests of the Head of Security since the language it would invoke would be blue to say the least. Suffice it to say that we are targeting his iPod like the US targeted Bin Laden. Stay tuned FootFans, as the one thing I can guarantee you is that this indie rock issue is not going way.
If you made it this far I will close by saying that in the future I will be more attentive to my Blog Business in the hopes that you will not have to suffer through a dinosaur sized FootPrint again. And if I don't I will simply plagiarize myself by saying what I said earlier - fuck you. Big game tomorrow night versus FC Fallacy and as always, I can't wait to tailgate.
Hughligan(s)
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