Tuesday, July 24, 2007
The Beckham effect
Bill Plaschke, 13th July:
Bored by Beckham.
If Los Angeles' newest sports star makes an impact beyond reality television shows and surreal gossip columns, I will stop using lame movie metaphors to describe him, OK?
But, for now, nothing else comes to mind.
...
One of the most publicized sports stars in the world shows up today more than six months after he agreed to the contract, and excuse me if I can't find the chills.
Bill Plaschke, 22nd July:
On a long and wearisome Saturday night, David Beckham's Galaxy debut was as phony as his wife's television debut.
Then why can't I stop smiling?
Why can't I get the shrieking cheers out of my head? The ones that rolled through the jammed Home Depot Center every time Beckham put his foot on the ball?
Why can't I get the low gasps out of my system? The one that escapes thousands of lips every time Beckham prepared to make a move?
Why can't I stop seeing his long kick, his corner kick, his perfect kicks, all filled with the sort of sight and sound that even the non-soccer fan can understand?
It's crazy, I know. I should be more dubious about a guy who made little real impact on a night that held no official meaning.
I was the guy who was bored by Beckham, remember?
What's really crazy is, I'm not bored anymore.
The soul of sport in this town is entertainment, and, for 16:19 on Saturday night, I was thoroughly entertained.
Turns out, even on a bum ankle, David Beckham is a blast.
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Bill Plaschke, 13th July:
Bored by Beckham.
If Los Angeles' newest sports star makes an impact beyond reality television shows and surreal gossip columns, I will stop using lame movie metaphors to describe him, OK?
But, for now, nothing else comes to mind.
...
One of the most publicized sports stars in the world shows up today more than six months after he agreed to the contract, and excuse me if I can't find the chills.
Bill Plaschke, 22nd July:
On a long and wearisome Saturday night, David Beckham's Galaxy debut was as phony as his wife's television debut.
Then why can't I stop smiling?
Why can't I get the shrieking cheers out of my head? The ones that rolled through the jammed Home Depot Center every time Beckham put his foot on the ball?
Why can't I get the low gasps out of my system? The one that escapes thousands of lips every time Beckham prepared to make a move?
Why can't I stop seeing his long kick, his corner kick, his perfect kicks, all filled with the sort of sight and sound that even the non-soccer fan can understand?
It's crazy, I know. I should be more dubious about a guy who made little real impact on a night that held no official meaning.
I was the guy who was bored by Beckham, remember?
What's really crazy is, I'm not bored anymore.
The soul of sport in this town is entertainment, and, for 16:19 on Saturday night, I was thoroughly entertained.
Turns out, even on a bum ankle, David Beckham is a blast.
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