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Clint Dempsey, Homeless American Soccer Vagabond…or Not


So, American soccer fans, let’s all take a moment to sit down. We need to talk.

Something weird and unexplainable is happening. Something we never thought we would have to worry about. Something that we have yet to be forewarned of. Though the rumor mills and speculation machines had us all believing a move was inevitable, Clint Dempsey is still playing — or at least on the roster of — Fulham.

We have all heard the rumblings. It was Champions League or bust for Deuce. You knew it. I knew it. He knew it. It was time for the big show. Months later, with less than a week until he is going to need to start mending fences with Martin Jol, Dempsey is playing with the Fulham reserves. It is a bitter pill to swallow. It is bitter to you. It is bitter to me. It is bitter for Clint Dempsey. But it is time to admit that maybe, just maybe, Clint Dempsey is going to stay at Fulham. Read More…

For Kicks & Giggles: Week of 1/16


For Kicks & Giggles is a series here at Viva la Futbol, which highlights some of the top football blogs that I have found over the course of each week.  If you would like to see your blog added here, either send me a shout on Twitter @MindOfAbram or an email to Viva.La.Futbol.Ahora[at]Gmail[dot]com.  These lists will feature between 8 and 11 blogs, videos, or various web related things at least every other Friday.

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I’d like to express interest in…


So the LA Galaxy’s Tim Leiweke has expressed interest in Frank Lampard.  Well not so fast Mr. Leiweke.  I’m calling dibs. I too am throwing my hat in the interest expressing ring of Mr. Frank Lampard.  And my interest to get him is only slightly less realistic than LA’s.

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The Rooney Revolution, flying pigs and all


This is a retread of a piece I wrote for ESPN’s Sportsnation about a year-and-a-half ago.  I find it humorous –and a little sad– that with very few alterations it’s still true.  

All of this has happened before, and it will all happen again.

Hey, Revs, want to fill those empty seats? I have a solution.

The top brass at New England supposedly wants to get the Boston market looking in their direction.  This has been part of the organizations downfall is a failure to catch the imagination of the Boston market –or the Portland, ME, New Bedford, Providence, or Hartford markets either.  So as they do yearly, they begin to claim they are looking to sign Designated Players, one whom obviously needs to be an attacking player. But more than just another Milton Caraglio retread, the Revolution need imagination.  They need innovation.  They need balls the size of the gas tanks on the Central Artery. They need a name who will grab the attention of the locals in order to fill up Gillette.

So, I have a proposition for the Kraft Group:  Don’t sign two or three DPs. Instead sign one, pay him astronomically, and make sure his name is Wayne Rooney.

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The blind ambitions of a feeder league


No one starts something new and says to himself, “gee, I hope I’m really average at this.”  In America everyone wants to be exceptional.  As a teacher, I know that several of my students are told early on by their parents that a “C” is a failing grade.  A “C” is not failing, it just means that you are average.  And honestly, what is so wrong with being average?

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Return of the savior


David Beckham could be the most divisive figure in the short history of MLS.  When David Beckham came to MLS, it was supposed to be as a holly savior for soccer in America.  And while soccer has a long way to travel to even get to NASCAR levels in this country (I’d say it’s the fourth most popular professional team sport, and then ranks behind MMA, NASCAR, PGA, and tennis for overall sports) it has grown immensely.

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Striker Lost


I’ve spent the last few hours, or really days, working on papers for school. Research papers, model plans, literature reviews have been my life for the last 48 hours –give or take some time on Twitter. However, the latest news on Carlos Tevez came out and something had to be said.

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Cowboy Up


Stoppage time was slowly ticking away with Dallas down 0-1. We all sat glued to our television –or computer– screens, eyes transfixed on #20. We were all waiting, just waiting, for him to do something amazing. But it did not happen as Thierry Henry daggered Dallas right around the 97th minute. That is when Brek Shea rode off into the Texas sunset and into the unknown.

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