David Beckham's arrival in Hollywood is an important moment in the history of Major League Soccer, but not the most important moment.
That's yet to happen.
No, the most important moment will occur when a player of Beckham's star power, history, and ability comes to MLS and the first 25 questions asked aren't centered around his impact on television ratings, gate receipts, and the chances that one of the other four Spice Girls might show up in the owner's box during a game.
The most important moment will be when the first question asked is, "What does this mean for the Galaxy on the field and its chances for winning a championship?"
What MLS lacks is banter. Between fans. On sports radio. The kind of intense discussion of its teams and their game that fuels daily conversations about other sports. That's not to say that there isn't a significant percentage of American soccer fans who understand the sport to the point where they can hold an informed debate about who should be playing where on the pitch, and what one coaching decision could mean for an entire match — I just don't think there's enough of them out there for this conversation to be even close to being mainstream.
I mean, how many casual American soccer fans even know what Beckham's position in Los Angeles will be ... well, you know, other than "Posh on top?"
What soccer lacks in banter, it makes up for in other areas. I've been giving this some thought lately, and wanted to toss this out to you good readers:
The Booze, Banter, and Betting Theory.
I believe a sport's popularity, on a professional or college level, can be directly linked to its fans' ability to debate it, bet it, or use it as the entrance point for a few hours of total inebriation.
In other countries, soccer has the trifecta. Fans can endlessly rant and rave about their favorite teams and players because they have an intrinsic understanding of the sport akin to American's ingrained comprehension of baseball. I'm pretty sure there's a question about the infield fly rule on the U.S. citizenship test.
And where do international soccer fans, especially in Europe and South America, hold most of these discussions? In the friendly confines of a neighborhood pub, bar, or watering hole, of course. Because what is soccer if not a reason to pound Guinness or Dos Equis in-between infrequent goals?
The relative lack of offense in soccer is, of course, one of the reasons why it has trouble meeting the third condition of The Booze, Banter, and Betting Theory, which according to my watch is "betting." Unless you're getting odds on who will win a tournament, you're betting a money-line on an individual match. This used to really suck back in the days when there would be only three choices on a wager: home win, road win or draw. Over the years, tie games started to become pushes, making the wagers a little less dangerous to the better. Still, it's not the greatest sport to bet. So, in the end, The Booze, Banter, and Betting Theory score for soccer would be — on a scale graded 1 (as bad as Marty Schottenheimer in a NFL playoff game) to 10 (as good as Adam Vinatieri in a NFL playoff game):
BOOZE: 10
BANTER: 4
BETTING: 3
What about the rest of sports in America?
FOOTBALL: The NFL and college football are an undeniable heaven-on-Earth for drunks and degenerate gamblers, and especially for drunk degenerate gamblers. Tailgating culture started with football Saturdays and Sundays. Sports bars now build their weekend schedules around the array of flat screen TVs on the walls. And it remains the easiest, and most popular, sport to bet, from bookie slips to office Super Bowl grids. Trust me when I tell you that 140 million people aren't tuning in to see Prince play halftime next month.
Banter is where football falters a little bit, and I'll tell you why: the quarterback. I have Sirius Radio, and I listen to its all-NFL channel with some frequency. Every third caller is some yokel slamming the hell out of his quarterback for everything from a botched fourth-and-one play to the price of popcorn at the stadium. I think football fans have a nice handle on game-to-game dissection of individual moments and plays; when it comes to the overall picture of how to build a winning football team, I think they're slightly less informed than Dan Snyder.
BOOZE: 10
BANTER: 6
BETTING: 10
BASEBALL: Baseball has its own tailgating culture and certainly has its share of infamously boozy crowds (see Field, Wrigley). But the minute they banned beer sales in the bleachers at Yankee Stadium is the minute its score dropped like an Ohio State player's stock in the NFL draft.
Betting? Don't waste my time. The betting line for a Major League Baseball game looks like a data printout from a NASA Supercomputer. The only way it could be more confusing is if John Kerry read it aloud.
But Banter is where baseball destroys every other sport, not only for the near-total understanding of the game by the majority of its fans but because of the comparative history that goes along with it. Any sport where you can literally spend two weeks debating the Randy Johnson trade, while at the same time dissecting Mark McGwire's Hall of Fame creds, has the Banter thing down. Not to mention a winter's worth of Hot Stove League chatter.
BOOZE: 6
BANTER: 10
BETTING: 2
BASKETBALL: Not exactly a drinking man's sport. Too much action, too much leaping, not enough down time. That's why student sections at college games are always hopping up and down — to try and level off their beer-goggled vision before they spew all over the mascot.
Betting the NBA sort of blows because there are too many variables and too many points scored. Betting college basketball, however, has established March Madness as an annual must-see event. If the Super Bowl is a bettor's Christmas, the NCAA tournament is Thanksgiving.
Banter has the historical comparisons of baseball — how many "the next Jordan" debates have you taken part in? — but doesn't have the same on-the-court conversational value as other sports. Too few players, too few scenarios and a salary cap in the NBA that impedes nearly any kind of significant hot stove rumor mongering.
BOOZE: 3
BANTER: 7
BETTING: 7
HOCKEY: I once did tequila shots on a bus with a hockey fan club before arriving at a sports bar for more drinks, getting back on the bus for more shots and then arriving at a game for more beer.
I've also seen plenty of punches thrown in the stands, but hardly ever a full beverage. There's a reason for that.
Betting hockey has become easier now that ties have been eliminated — gee, you don't think that was a factor in establishing a skills competition as a way to end games, do you? — but it's still a hard sport to bet because so many games end in one or two goals.
Banter is an interesting thing for hockey fans, mostly because the majority of it deals with what the men in charge are doing to bastardize the game. (Changing the jerseys? I mean, c'mon.) When it comes to the game itself, I think the die hards understand the sport very well, and can debate everything from who should play on the checking line to the need for a left-handed center on face-offs. The problem with die-hard hockey fans — and I'm one of them — is that we don't necessarily trust that the person we're talking to is into the sport as deeply as we are. (At least that's been my experience, and the experience of other American hockey fans I've spoken to.) There's a load of difference between debating Bobby Crosby vs. Alexander Ovechkin and debating who should be playing with them as a right-handed point shot on the power play; it's a level of hockey geekdom some of us either don't believe exists in other more "casual" fans or are unwilling to accept exists in us.
BOOZE: 9
BANTER: 4
BETTING: 3
GOLF: I wanted one more sport to round out the field, and it was either this, tennis, or NASCAR. Tennis Banter is at an all-time low, with Page 6 rumors more prevalent than any concrete conversation about the game. NASCAR is a drinking sport, but Betting and Banter are mysteries to me; do fans really debate who's in the pit crew and things like that? I mean, seriously...
Golf, however, is an underrated sport for Betting and Booze. While some may bet on PGA events, I think most of the wagering — just like most of the drinking — happens on the greens between foursomes.
As for Banter, there might be some good discussions about individual events and holes every week. But if Tiger doesn't win in four tournaments and someone asks, "What's wrong with Tiger?", I doubt the answer will be informed, insightful, or anywhere near interesting as it would be for other sports.
BOOZE: 6
BANTER: 6
BETTING: 6
So there you have it. Not exactly a scientific study, but I think it offers some insight as to why some sports thrive through the generations while others are perpetually stuck in neutral.
I think one of the glorious things about sports — and in turn The Booze, Banter, and Betting Theory — is that depending on where you live, who you root for and who you root with, it all can fluctuate greatly.
And with that, I'm headed to Jersey to have a beer, bitch about the Jets, and bet on the AFC title game with my dad...
Greg Wyshynski is the Features Editor for SportsFan Magazine in Washington, DC, and the Senior Sports Editor for The Connection Newspapers of Northern Virginia. His book is "Glow Pucks and 10-Cent Beer: The 101 Worst Ideas in Sports History." His columns appear every Saturday on Sports Central. You can e-mail Greg at [email protected].
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