Soccer Shmocker

I tried this time. I really tried. But after watching the games, learning the rules, and even buying a Landon Donovan jersey, I could not develop a fondness for World Cup soccer (sorry, but I just can't bring myself to call it football). It's not only because America, "the world's last remaining superpower", regularly gets trounced by countries like Trinidad and Tobago, but I also find the sport itself about as exciting as an Al Gore global warming lecture. I am therefore proposing some minor changes that will make soccer more appealing to me and my fellow Americans.

First, instead of allowing only goalies to use their hands, allow everyone BUT the goalie to touch the ball. Why not? This change would no doubt result in a much-needed increase in scoring. At present, these players ramble around a field the size of a Texas cattle ranch for two hours just to score about one point per game. Allowing them to catch and throw the ball would no doubt produce higher scores, therefore creating more enthusiasm for the sport. As a bonus, allowing the use of hands would spare us the unsavory spectacle of grown men contorting themselves to handle the ball with every unappealing body part imaginable.

My second suggestion to liven up this uninspiring sport would be to allow tackling. Currently the game looks more like a poorly-choreographed ballroom dance than a legitimate sport. Tackling would heighten on-field excitement by generating more interesting injuries. Instead of the wimpy twisted ankles and skinned knees, we could observe the concussions and broken limbs that Americans crave.
Alas, my final proposal to improve soccer--requiring forehead cushions--would actually serve to eliminate this ridiculous sport altogether. Because billions of soccer-playing children from Albania to Zimbabwe repeatedly bonk the ball with their heads, adequate cushioning would prevent the inevitable brain damage that leads to serious lapses in judgment. With so much head-bonking during their brain's formative stage, it's no wonder children fail to see the folly of the game they're playing. With cushioned craniums, however, a subsequent generation of clear-headed adults could finally rid the world of this soccer nonsense.

Despite my astute assessments, I must acknowledge the remote possibility that I have a slight American bias in this matter. Accordingly, the world's soccer associations might not be so quick to apply my sensible improvements. Indeed, I suspect any non-American reading these words is by now seething to strangle my Americanized neck. I suppose if five billion of the earth's homo sapiens drool over the sport, I'll have to concede the possibility that soccer might have a measure of redeeming value.

Nevertheless, I was born and raised in Montana, where soccer is about as common as deep sea fishing. So while the non-American world obsesses over this god-awful pastime, I'll have to politely decline involvement. Instead, I will cling to my own national culture by honoring our more sophisticated sports, such as professional wrestling, roller derby, and monster truck pulls. After all, I am an American.