In the 112th minute Ian Darke, ESPN carnival barker, says, "the US is eight minutes from winning and sparking a national celebration," which made me wish Japan would win, and I'm sorry. I wasn't invested in this team - it's not lack of damn but lack of time - but I've loved ones who are. But ESPN's shilling - and I don't watch helmetball or basketball, maybe they shill for everything - of the major significance of this game pissed me off, and anyone who thinks a victory would mean more to the US citizenship than the Japanese - as in Japan post-earthquake and tsunami - is a moron. (Speaking of morons and barkers: Julie Foudy.)
Game ball to Japan's Iwashimuzu who deliberately took a red card taking down a breakaway for Alex Morgan in the 120th minute, though to be fair, without the US's shockingly inept finishing, its clownish and panicky defending, and its choke-choke-choking in PK, Japan doesn't win. Japan doesn't win if the US doesn't think it won the game twice. Japan didn't win, the USWNT lost.
Read this guy. He knows the players on USWNT, having been a season-ticket holder for the Germantown Freedom before they up and split for Florida. He can speak towards his loathing for Rachel Buehler and why I'm wrong to say Hope Solo had a miserable game and why I'm wrong to ask why Alex Morgan didn't start (I thought she was the best player on the field).
But rely on me to draw the strained metaphor: there are echoes in the USWNT's choke and collapse amid media screaming of their exceptionality that redound on many levels. Perhaps I'll tease them out later, or not - we're going out to eat the best Indian food in MOCO with Hamster in a couple of minutes - though tease them out yourself, or not.