With only fear and good judgment holding us back, we sailed out on the Northern Sea. With a boat load of crazy people, Including the shotgun and me, "Does somebody know how to drive this thing?" yelled the captain as he fell to his knees. "I think I mighta had a little too much today, take me to my cabin, please."
If anyone knows how to fix this thing, I'm sure ML$E would like to hear from you. But otherwise, we're here again -- two early goals in the first half by Alvaro Fernandez and Chris Rolfe, countered by a late Eric Hassli strike, and once again we're absolutely nowhere, and it certainly doesn't help that this game was scheduled one day after an international break.
The stats listed above may be more flattering to TFC than they seem: Chicago in the first half was the aggressor, and looked for most of that half was the likelier side to score, and when the chances finally came, Fernandez and Rolfe buried them: Fernandez from a Pavel Pardo cross, and Rolfe from a poorly defended corner kick. The story was mostly the same in the second half, with Hassli getting a late consolation from a Luis Silva set-up.
It was a listless effort from a side that is already beaten, with a coach that seems to be bereft of any ideas and just running out the clock so he can blow the team up and reform it into his own image when the clock rings midnight on the 2012 season. But for a change, or maybe perhaps this was desperation talking, we actually saw Milos Kocic and Eric Avila get some on-field time -- but still, they made little to no difference.
Andrew Wiedeman, the man TFC acquired for Julian de Guzman from Dallas was a complete bust at the front, and Logan Emory, playing out of his usual place, was also a complete distaster. In short, It's the same old story. Paul Mariner said at the end of the game, the first half was unacceptable -- but that was the same story that we've been given a dozen times, by a half dozen coaches.
Surely someone would have figured out something by now, right? Nope, not here. And the story continues just as the same. Maybe some drastic action is needed in the stands to finally open some eyes in the front office? Whatever it is, it's better than watching this rudderless ship, once again awaiting another complete overhaul under yet another new captain, trapped and at the mercy of the metaphorical Arctic pack ice.
Perhaps the injury that comes on top of this insult is that this match was re-scheduled to make way for a lame friendly against Liverpool, the one back in July where Quincy Amarikwa squeezed out a 1-1 draw for us in a game that was just another glorified pre-season friendly for a mid-level EPL team, hyped and marketed by MLS as some big thing. We thought that playing during international breaks were a bad idea -- it seems some people don't learn.
And now, to mark the coming of the August Moon festival, instead of kicks to the groin, we bring you our feature; Golden Trophies/Mooncake Tins to the Head.
WAKING THE RED'S GOLDEN TROPHIES/MOONCAKE TINS TO THE HEAD
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