Lalas Dreams On

Alexi Lalas once was bearded, known for facial hair...
I fear he'll now be known because his mind's no longer there.

For reasons known alone to Lalas he has said this week
That M.L.S. has lately reached a very lofty peak:

He said the league in England that has left its fans delighted

With mighty teams like Chelsea, Liverpool, and Man United,

Is not as good as people think, and that, in fact, he'd send

A helicopter full of M.L.S. guys to contend
For glory in the Premiership, and fans would never know,
For Lalas's recruits would not be overwhelmed or slow...

Because, said Mr. Lalas — known as he who will be hated

Across the realm, the sceptered isle — the game there's overrated.

Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't be surprised if F.C. Dallas

On any given Saturday could slip by Crystal Palace,
But who can doubt that Sheffield Wednesday, given half a break

On any day, and wet or dry, would beat Real Salt Lake?

I hope his tongue was in his cheek. I hope that he was grinning

When Lalas said that M.L.S., a league that's still beginning

To find its form and build its crowds, could even tote the boots

Of Albion's Premiership in the place where soccer's roots

Are strong and never tangled with the lesser games we know...

With baseball, football, basketball. Believe me, if you go

To England, demi-paradise and other eden, too,

You'll understand my point and know why I feel as I do.

In London, just in London, you can hardly walk a block
That you don't see a place for soccer playing. It's a lock
That we should be regarded as completely in the dark,
While any U.S. soccer team plays in a football park,
For England, teeming womb of royal kings, knows jolly well
That soccer played on football lines is soccer played in hell...

But I digress. Let's hope that Lalas, sounding like a nut,

Has said what he has said to pump the game. I don't know what

He might have had in mind beyond that aim, and who can say

That I'd have otherwise talked soccer here with you today?