It’s that time of the decade again when our country divides into two factions: Americans who claim to lovelovelove soccer even while admitting they only ever watch the World Cup and thus really have no idea what they’re talking about, and Americans who hatehatehate soccer and declaim negativity about everyone and everything associated with it. This is merely a microcosm of the world, which is divided between people who hate soccer (Americans) and people who embarrassingly miscall it football (everyone else).
So what’s the cause of this athletic Tower of Babel? Grab a few friends and perform my smash-hit play to answer for yourself (if you’re an arts-hater, a more academic explanation can be found over at Slate).
(1863, British sporting pitch. The coaches speak with funny accents.)
Coach Barnacle: Oi say, what a lovely day for a game of this new fangled sport we call association football.
Coach Pippyhoff: Right-io. Association football is utterly exciting. I don’t think the queen herself would have expected a forward pass to cause such thrills.
Coach Barnacle: Indeed. But, I say Coach Pippyhoff, I believe young Chathamwhipper there picked up the ball and threw it into the goal. Please have him penalized, since the use of hands is clearly prohibited in association football, as it states here in my team’s rule book.
Coach Pippyhoff: Dreadfully sorry, and I don’t mean to be contrary, but if you’ll look here in my team’s association football rule book, you’ll see the use of hands is explicitly encouraged.
Coach Barnacle: What a predicament! It seems all these teams are playing association football by their own rules! How uncivilized!
Coach Pippyhoff: Quite so. I dare say we need to call a meeting and codify these rules so we can avoid any further embarrassments in this manner.
Coach Banracle: Cheers.
(London tavern.)
Coach Pippyhoff: Good evening, gentlemen. We are gathered here to go absolutely barmy off this ale. And also codify the rules of association football. Now, after reviewing ever so many proposed rule changes, it appears we have reached an agreement on nearly every aspect, except two: the use of hands as a legitimate tool of play, and…shin hacking.
Coach Barnacle: Dearie me, dearie me, who could possibly approve of such a dangerous technique of shin hacking.
Coach Blackheath: I do! It’s good for our prissy little schoolboys. What, what! If little Lord Fauntelroy never gets a good shin hacking, what do you think he’ll do when he fights our next war against the French? He’ll be a surrender monkey, I say! For the sake of national security, shin hacking must be allowed- nay, encouraged.
Coach Pippyhoff: Well, this is quite uncomfortable. My apologies dear Blackheath, but it appears the majority of this league of civilized gentlemen are against shin hacking, and thus a prohibition against such must be codified.
Coach Blackheath: Hmmph. We’ll be speaking French before the year is out. D’ya’hear me? Before the year is out!
Coach Pippyhoff: Now then, about the use of hands…
Coach Barnacle: Oh, no, no, no. If we allow our sportsman to use their hands what depths will our nation sink to next? Eating with our hands? No, no, it will never do. Hands are only useful for sporting lovely white gloves, like these.
Coach Pippyhoff: Very nice, indeed. I do hope you’ve remembered to apply your lotion so as to avoid any rough drying-
Coach Barnacle: Of course, of course, sir. I’ve come in possession of a lovely lavender variety. Would you like a smell?
Coach Blackheath: This is bollocks! Where would Lady England be if our brave boys had not defended her honor with hand to hand combat! Can’t you see how running a hundred yards with a ball in your hand provides essential military training to our impressionable youth! This is mollycoddling! Before I know it, you’ll be putting shin guards on the chaps.
Coach Pippyhoff: What a heavenly idea!
Coach Blackheath: Rubbish! This entire meeting is rubbish! Sirs, I leave you to your pansy association football. As for me and mine, we will play rugby football, named after the great Rugby School where our boys are taught to kick at shins and roughhouse with their hands in preparation for the inevitable French invasion. Good day, sirs! (He exits.)
Coach Barnacle: What an unpleasant gentlemen.
Coach Pippyhoff: Quite so. Well, we’re all codified then. Every association football game will be played by the same rules, which include no hands and no shin hacking. I believe this association football council has concluded its business.
Coach Barnacle: Might I be allowed to open a piece of new business?
Coach Pippyhoff: I suppose.
Coach Barnacle: I daresay association football is a rather long title for a sport. Would anyone find it awfully offensive if we merely called it football?
Coach Pippyhoff: Splendid idea! Then we’re decided. Association football is hereby nomered simply football. Now, Coach Barnacle, do tell about this lavender lotion.
(American tavern.)
Bob: Ya hear what they’ve done in the ol’ motherland?
Tom: Nope.
Bob: They all sat down and came up with one set of rules for association football.
Ted: So every team has to play by the same rules?
Bob: Yep.
Ted: That’s why we left that socialist country full of commies.
Bob: I think they’ve got a good idea.
Tom: You sayin’ you hate America?
Bob: Hear me out. If we all played association football with the same rules, we’d spend more time playing the game and less time having fatal brawls about who’s cheating who.
Ted: So?
Bob: So association football could become a million dollar industry. There could be college teams and professional teams and logos and licenses and television contracts…but only if more points are scored than people sent to the hospital.
Tom: You really think there’s money to be made from this?
Bob: Absolutely.
Tom: Shoot, what we are waiting for? Let’s establish some rules.
Bob: Now the major thing we need to decide: hands or no hands.
Ted: Hands, definitely. What kind of pansy is afraid to touch the ball with his hands?
Bob: Agreed. Here in America, we play association football with our hands.
Tom: (sighs)
Ted: What’s the matter Tom?
Tom: Association football? Too dad gum long. Let’s call it football.
Bob: Ok. Here in America, we play football with our hands!
Tom: (sighs)
Ted: What now?
Tom: I kind of liked playing without hands. Everyone looked so funny, waddling around like penguins.
Ted: Why should we have to decide? America was founded on the ideals of democracy. We’ll play both ways and let the people decide which they like better.
Tom: We get two sports for the price of one!
Bob: What would we call the no-hand sport.
Ted: Umm….
Tom: Association! We play football with hands, association without hands.
Bob: Really? Association? That’s a super dumb name.
Ted: We could take the s-o-c from association and add a random c-e-r making soccer.
Tom: That’s not silly or convoluted at all.
Bob: Soccer it is.
Ted: Here’s to football, which we play with our hands just like we did with our favorite association football rules.
Tom: And here’s to soccer, which we play without our hands just like some of us did with the other association football rules.
Bob: Here’s to America, the two sport nation!
(The end.)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment