Set aside it was Chicago's finishing not United's backline that prevented Chicago scoring four (and it was the worse game individually and collectively for Kitchen-Jakovic-McDonald-Woolard in a month), United lacks an attacking midfielder and a striker. Stephen King, whose name wasn't mentioned until the 67th minute, as quarterback? Charlie Davies, who's apparently been studying first touch techniques from Joseph Ngwenya, as target striker? It is no fucking coincidence United scored within three minutes of swapping Quaranta for King and Wolff for Davies, and Quaranta's out-of-position and not very good and Wolff is 137 in soccer years.
Benny. St Benny. Benny of the Firmament of My Personal Belief System, Stephen King? I understand Davies (or understood Davies - I won't any longer), but Stephen King? I cede your options are limited, especially if you want to play De Rossario at withdrawn, but Stephen King? Stephen King? What, Kurt Morsink not available?
Yes, flat. I expected Chicago to come out on, um, fire, the first game of a three game homestand that will determine their season, and I expected United's strategy would be absorb the first twenty minutes of pressure then energize once Chicago's first burst was spent, but United had nothing, so a fortunate point, just not a fun one.
Sunday night in Kansas City, when Quaranta and Wolff will start, not King and Davies, yes? with Louis Crayton in goal now that Bill Hamid crippled himself. Jeebus. Good news - it doesn't start until nine, and I should be home from abandoning my child in Ohio by then; better news - it's on Telemundo, and while I don't speak Spanish, I'm sure I'll glean more useful information from them than I did from Rob Stone and John Harkes, who made English language sounds for two hours last night but conveyed no meaning.
