First Denilson, now Claudio Lopez. Yeesh. Any chance we'll see some DP money spent on Gabriel Batistuta before all is said and done?

Let's seriously hope that Eduardo da Silva plays again. It is always disheartening to see a promising career threatened by the actions of a clumsy hack who tries to combat a skilled opponent by taking liberties with the limits of fouling strategy. In the meantime, Martin Taylor may have just gifted Manchester United the Premiership title.

Then he should know that United lost just a week and a half ago. From his World Soccer Rankings for this week:
By our own logic, we can't deny Sir Alex Ferguson's boys anything -- they haven't been on the wrong side of a score sheet since the New Year, unbeaten in 10 straight.

As much as we here on 116th Street enjoy a Barnsley upset over Liverpool, the Champions League is the undoubted source of our football happiness. The FA Cup might be useful for exciting upsets and the occasional knockout spectacular (not to mention those incredibly useful lessons in English geography), but there is nothing like seeing the masterful play and contrasting styles on display in the premier football competition in the world.

Good luck to the Premiership in trying to nail down that "39th fixture": when Asian and Oceanic clubs attempt to keep you out of their stadiums (and your dirty paws out of their revenue), when that Everton-Middlesbrough fixture isn't selling so well in Toronto, and when your entire fan base is pissed off at you for selling them out, you'll wish you had simply scheduled a couple of friendlies in New York and LA featuring the Big Four (oh wait, they can already do that themselves; what do they need you for, Richard Scudamore?

So I take back everything I said Monday about USA vs. Mexico, a game full of intrigue and excitement. After a day of watching some fairly dull international friendlies, it was fantastic to see some true passion and end-to-end action. While I wrote on Monday that there would be little gleaned from this February soirée, I can thankfully say that I was very much in the wrong.

And so it is that we return for what I suppose has become our annual February dance with Mexico, a game that would be so much more interesting had they scheduled it just a few days prior. The chance to witness the first significant merging of national politics with the rise of soccer in our country would have been an amazing sight, with presidential campaigns scrambling to pander to the millions of captive Latino viewers glued to Univision for a USA-Mexico matchup ahead of Super Tuesday.

Being a die-hard Philly sports fan, it goes without saying that life here on 116th Street has been a bit of a nightmare recently, with Giants fans coming out of the woodwork trying to convince me to actually root for those #8+&^~%*

It's no secret that my posting to this site has been more than spotty, pretty much all year, and I feel like I owe everyone an explanation for this. 2007 has been an unimaginably difficult year for me, both personally and professionally, which has made it hard to find either the time, resources or energy to maintain this site. It was far easier in 2006, when everything was going well and I was an office temp with nothing to do other than write in my soccer blog all day.

I was walking down Third Avenue with Jeff, a Gooner who was making the convincing argument that since Eduardo da Silva had emigrated from Brazil to Croatia, he should no longer be referred to as "Crozilian," but rather as a "Broatian." "Doesn't it sound like more of a nationality to you? He's a Broat!" All of this was really cracking me up, and within minutes I was going around calling Eduardo the "Broatian Sensation," which put me in good spirits, considering my earlier frustration watching Liverpool blow numerous chances as well as piss away a good 4 minutes of stoppage time, failing to capitalize on a vulnerable Chelsea squad.

With a brilliant free-kick strike against D.C., the bequeathing of Galaxy captaincy from Landon Donovan, an appearance in the SuperLiga final and an England call-up in the works, it appears as though the David Beckham experiment is finally beginning to run according to script. Perhaps some of the adversity of the past month has been a bit of a blessing in disguise, as it appears as though the hoopla was enabled to extend itself just a little bit longer than it would had everything gone swimmingly from the start.

The Premiership season is upon us, and I can't really say that I'm ready. I am, without a doubt, excited, but in terms of actual preparedness I find myself a step behind. This could be due to the fact that I'm preparing for a weekend that includes both a bachelor party and a christening (if I go missing from this blog, it's probably a result of the lightning bolt that's coming my way for being at a strip club and church within a span of mere hours) and I'm likely to miss the opening of the season, or it could be the result of an unusual summer overload of football due to international competitions, SuperLiga and what's-his-name.

Raise your hand if you are enjoying SuperLiga as much as I am. There is some real passion on display in these matches, not to mention a nice bit of skill from the much-maligned MLS players. Christian Gomez was magnificent for D.C. against Club America yesterday, and I think my newest favorite MLS player might be Joseph Ngwenya (who Houston subbed off too early last night, in my opinion).

That's right, this is a photo of yours truly kissing the European Cup (try your hardest to contain your envy - jealousy will lead you down a dark path). How did this come about, you ask? Evidently, AC Milan is touring the trophy in an attempt to turn some unfortunate saps into Serie A fans (Milan fans at that - even worse!), and they made a stop at a prominent NYC soccer pub, Nevada Smith's.

I was shamelessly front-running, bouncing up and down to "Popazuda Rock 'N Roll" while some extremely attractive Brazilian girls were shimmying with the Robinho lookalike to my right, and who could blame me? Brazil, with a B squad full of players I was barely familiar with, had just pistol-whipped their more celebrated archrivals, vanquishing Argentina to claim another Copa America title, and since I had never partied with a bunch of Brazilians postgame, I couldn't think of a better occasion.