BY JASON CORLISS

It’s been a looong three weeks since last I wrote in this space, and as has been typical of RBNY this season, much has happened and much has remained the same.  We’ve discussed patterns here previously, but in thinking about the range of responses to soccer-related happenings in the intervening weeks (RBNY, USMNT, NY2), I’m struck by not only the range of responses to it all – from reflexive emotion, to self-serving/defeating cynicism, to existentially unsound pronouncements – but by the often circular arguments made to justify those responses. 

Supporting a premise by repeating that premise extra-loudly doesn’t make it true.

When I filed my last column, while still tucked neatly into Canada’s cheaply perfumed garter belt, on the eve of what turned out to be RBNY’s own attempt to emulate some of that city’s more submissive business practitioners, I wrote about my intention to experience each linear deviation of RBNY’s pattern in real time, and not to view it from some contrived emotional remove or intellectually disingenuous position.  And, since I believe in both symmetry and the Now, I’m cool with riding out those bumps precisely because I know that they’ll lead to a concrete end.  What end, you ask?  I dunno.  But, that’s the point, isn’t it?

I’ve got a song, I ain’t got no melody
I’m gonna sing it to my friends
I’ve got a song, I ain’t got no melody
I’m  gonna sing it to my friends

Will it go round in circles?
Will it fly high like a bird up in the sky?
Will it go round in circles?
Will it fly high like a bird up in the sky?

Billy Preston’s jam, above, is as applicable to the rationale/reactions of RBNY and USMNT supporters as it is to the previous discussion of super groups and formulae.  Taking the second part first, whether Soler and Backe have any sort of handle on how to use the pieces they’ve put together clearly remains to be seen, and whether these disparate elements can gel into a single unit is something that we can only hope for –it’s a delicate chemical balance at best.

But, ** Preston himself, probably one of the most influential and unheralded sidemen in music history, is a perfect example of an individual making the entire unit better…transforming it into something special.  Every team needs that player, and it’ll be interesting to see who steps into that role for RBNY as they head down the homestretch.  Like a song without a melody, RBNY’s chances will fall flat otherwise.  Similarly, the inclusion of Brek Shea 2.0 (3.0?) in the USMNT mix made all the difference in the (ahem) friendly vs. Mexico at the Azteca. Even Klinsy is working on the formula.  Sometimes it clicks, and sometimes it takes an individual component to shift the balance.

With your feet in the air and your head on the ground
Try this trick and spin it, yeah
Your head will collapse
If there’s nothing in it
And you’ll ask yourself

Where is my mind?…

But, wait, what’s that?  They suck anyway, though, you say?   It doesn’t matter, you say?  Sure they do, and sure, it doesn’t.  But, as the prophet Lebowski once said, “Well, that’s just like, uh, your opinion, man.”  We all know how that Montreal game turned out.  And, then came the Houston debacle.  As I wrote in my match preview for The Guardian, I had a sense of how that one would end up as well.  Ouch. 

All of that followed by RBNY’s huge home victory over Houston in the return leg brings us to this weekend’s tilt with Portland, and back to a familiar place…equilibrium.  We’ve seen this pattern before, yet we experience it viscerally in real time, each time, so one would think that a little perspective is in order – or, at the very least, some deference paid to the universe for ordering things so conveniently.

But what is it we talk about when we talk about supporting a team?  There are those who wait with barely contained glee for “their” team to lose so that they can remind others that the team sucks, and that those folks are stupid for experiencing genuine emotion one way or another.  What’s the point, they ask?  The team still sucks, they’ll say.  Why?  Because.  Others insist on keeping score about which games are more “meaningful”, or how many meaningful games one has seen, or plans on attending.  What’s a meaningful game, anyway?  Everything MEANS something, but who are we to define that metric of meaningfulness for someone else?

Existential arguments aside…of course, meaning is a relative term.  For a club team, every game is meaningful (sure, one can argue about Supporters Shield vs. playoffs, but, c’mon), as each has an impact on the team’s season.  And, obviously, for national teams, competitive games that have bearing on international competitions mean significantly MORE than others, but depriving oneself a modicum of joy and pride when one’s team defeats its rival on that rival’s soil for the first (and only) time in 75 years is just sad.

And I’m not the kind that likes to tell you
Just what you want me to
You’re not the kind that needs to tell me
About the birds and the bees

Maybe I have a more nuanced view than others, or maybe I ascribe to a different mindset when it comes to actually wanting to experience spontaneous emotion and catharsis without all the pathology of contrived cynicism and self aggrandizement that comes along with having the “right” point of view.  I attended my first USMNT match in 1979, at the age of five. The USMNT played (and beat) Bermuda in Ft. Lauderdale, FL.  I wasn’t aware at the time whether this game was supposed to mean something, but it meant something to me.  The notion that America was playing soccer against another country (and I use that term loosely – apologies to my Bermudian friends) was the coolest thing I’d ever heard.  That meant everything.  And, even as I grew older and understood the relative meaning of actual competitive matches vs. friendlies, I still carried and continue to carry that feeling with me.  I don’t have to be told when and/or if something means something to me.  I’m too busy experiencing it.

The point of this column, and, really, most of my writing in this space, is to give people some insight into how an individual supporter thinks about his teams and his experience supporting them.  My perspective isn’t meant to convince anyone of anything, but clearly, this public venue allows me to put it out there from a measured and somewhat removed position. 

If one is so pathologically set against allowing himself to be open to feeling something that runs counter to his own misdirected, circular logic, or doesn’t jibe with his own personal narrative, then no one can do or say anything to convince them otherwise.  That’s their own karma, and they’ll just have to come to it on their own.  But, any major dude with half a heart surely will tell you that.

I can tell you all I know, the where to go, the what to do,
You can try to run but you can’t hide from what’s inside of you

Coming back to RBNY and the news of progress being made on a stadium within the five boroughs, clearly heralding the arrival of the dreaded/welcomed/meh’d NY2, there’s been an avalanche of consternation among RBNY supporters regarding the possibility of RBNY supporters “switching” allegiances.  This is actually one instance in which circular reasoning is applicable and unimpeachable.  If you are a RBNY supporter, then you are a RBNY supporter.  By definition, it is impossible to switch allegiance.  However, if you’re a soccer fan who occasionally attends games (even in the South Ward) and, for any one of many reasons, wants to check out whatever the new team ultimately is, then that’s entirely your prerogative. 

Just don’t call yourself a supporter.  You’re not.

For those of you who’ll be sticking around, we have a lot to look forward to as this season comes down to the wire. Starting with Portland on Sunday, RBNY is in a position to control its destiny in a race to the top of the East and an outside shot at the Supporters Shield.  Three games against East leaders KC (two at home), home matchups against “lesser” East opponents Columbus, Toronto and Chicago, and HUGE road trips to DC and Philly await.  The South Ward will be traveling to DC and Philly.  We’d love to have you along.  Get onboard.  This is the time of year when the games mean the most. 

Well, they all MEAN something, but, well, ummm, yeah.  In any case, it all starts on Sunday.  Bring it on.

Why you gotta make it so hard on me?

So bring it on, bring on the weekend
Bring it on, bring on the weekend…

**Billy Preston (among many other equally cool credits) played in Little Richard’s band as an organist, and then on Sam Cooke’s legendary album Night Beat.  Later, he was nicknamed the 5th Beatle for his work on The Beatles’ Abbey Road and Let it Be.  His keyboards revamped The Rolling Stones’ sound on Sticky Fingers and Exile on Main Street, and Dylan’s Blood on the Tracks.  Oh, and he also wrote, You Are So Beautiful.  He was an absolute Badass.