July 6, 2010 – During the recent World Cup festivities I was reminded of the time a friend and I were first invited to play golf at a private country club. It was at the invitation of a mutual friend in high school, a guy who played golf regularly at his dad’s club, and who was a member of our school team (because he couldn’t make the baseball team, like his two guests).

From the moment we arrived, he never shut up about how much he knew about the game and we didn’t. He showed us grips, cool equipment and pleaded with us to behave so his dad wouldn’t get a letter from the membership committee. It wasn’t that we had never played golf, we had our own clubs and shoes and wore collared shirts and pants with pockets without being told.

It was clear that golf was our host’s game. That he owned it and that no matter what we did we would always be interlopers. We both beat him, knew how to tip our caddies (because we both caddied) and called him when he grounded his club in a sand trap. It wasn’t a joyous day. Kind of like being a U.S. fan watching the World Cup.

So, even though the U.S. has an elaborate youth soccer system, an elaborate high school system, an elaborate college system and a professional league, we in the U.S. know nothing about the game. Just because every parent can relate a soccer experience doesn’t mean that we know anything about futbol. We have our sports that we are lady ga-ga about. To us, Kaka is something to do with diapers.

So no matter what, the U.S. team’s foray into the Cup tournament didn’t matter as much to us. We hadn’t grown up on dusty fields playing “football” with patchwork balls. We couldn’t relate to Pele and Brazil’s 1970 World Cup like we did the Baltimore Orioles, the Kansas City Chiefs or the New York Knicks. Somehow the Americans will always be trespassers when it comes to the soccer pitch.

But not for nothing, the U.S. fared well in the World Cup and even though you can’t use your hands like we like to do, we put a respectable lot into our soccer boots. Imagine if soccer was the only sport. If the American footballers, baseballers and basketballers played the game?

That’s not to say the “World’s Game” isn’t without its flaws that are conspicuous to even an interloper. First, soccer fans, get a life. Not to say Americans don’t get carried away with our games, but a burned police car turned over, some running in the streets, a few arrests don’t add up to death riots, vuvuzellas, barbed wire and gawdy dress. When you can’t show a replay because it may cause a riot, something is wrong.

And our NBA has a considerable amount of flopping, but we have rules that will penalize the flopper and refs who will call it. Soccer is more like professional wrestling. We also like to see the clock and for our clocks to be accurate. Sometimes a homecourt timekeeper will have a quick or slow trigger, but replays assure it’s no secret. Timekeeping in soccer is an arbitrary mystery. The floppers writhing on the pitch contributing to eating clock and adding clock to effect the game.

Several similarities exist between soccer and American professional sports when it comes to replay, protecting referees and empowering the czars of their sport. Although North American hockey utilizes replay the best, baseball is as backward as soccer, with American football and basketball utilizing technology but leaving out just enough to make it controversial.

FIFA, the lord of soccer, led by its President from Switzerland, Sepp Blatter, gives Americans a real taste of history. When trying to imagine what facism was like, Herr Blatter and his edicts will give you a taste. Bud and Roger and David and Gary have their moments, but there’s nothing like Blatter who seals up referees from any scrutiny and looks at blatant errors on replay with a secretary writing out apology notes.

If you really want to brag about a great game, fix the flaws. Meanwhile, we’ll keep working on our soccer players.