Hated…What did Becks expect?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(above: La Galaxy fans give Beckham the news…Go Away!)

Beckham’s return to Los Angeles was met by a galaxy of boos.  Expect to see Beckham playing for anyone in the Premier League within three months. It was an important moment for American soccer. Finally, there was enough pride to say, We don’t need no foreigner to make our soccer worthy. The moment will be looked back upon as the day American soccer grew up.

Beckham’s ego is so massive it can’t fit inside his haircut but the club has to take the blame for signing him. It was never a soccer decision. Branding should be left to boots and shirts, not players. The American game is maturing fast, fans follow the national team, and see victory. Understandably, the hostility from the American media forces the MLS to sell candy but those days are ending.

Americans to Boo Beckham

USA soccer boss, Alexi Lalas, announced that David Beckham will be booed on his return to LA Galaxy. This is an important moment of maturation for American soccer. It proves the fans at the Galaxy believe that their club is bigger than “the man.” Many Galaxy fans don’t want Becks back. His slow play is much more suited for the snail’s pace of Italian football. Not that American soccer is fast but it is played in a more open style than the fossilised Calcio. Like most people his age, Beckham is slowing down. It’s little surprise that he wants to lounge around on the field in fashionable Milan. The freeway lane changes of Los Angeles are too much for old Becks. Galaxy fans: boo him until he goes away. American soccer no longer needs a slow giant to shake it awake.

Becks Hair Situation

I’m watching the San Jose Earthquakes versus the Hollywood Galaxy from the Oakland Coliseum. The camera shots are steep, like the stadium seats. Oakland is a mean place with a mean sun. And it is illuminating this possible fact – Becks is balding at the crown. And to make matters worse, his scalp is burned. You can’t come from suburban London to California without  the 50Factor screen.  Becks’ advisers should take care of his head, or the dermatologist will be calling with the bad news. And a call to the Hair Club For Men is also in order. Maybe an endorsement deal is in the offing.

MARKING BECKHAM

Becks is adding his golden signature to the black marker. Not that he is in a hurry these days to get around anyone on the field but apparently he is up for more autographs. Sharpie has signed Becks to its global campaign to become the pen of choice for the famed. The permanent marker scores – maybe it will rub off on Becks goal tally. But like all pens, it runs dry. When a Sharpie dies, and these days leaving the cap off for more than ten minutes can be fatal for its future, a cry of “Damn and Blast,” is likely followed up by a throw of the Sharpie at the trash can, that usually misses, like much of Becks’ free-kicks these days. More stains on the landfill.

TRACKING BECKHAM

I went to a MLS game on Saturday, a clash between the San Jose Earthquakes and the LA Galaxy, with the brightest star in the universe, the supernova David Beckham in shorts. Most in the huge crowd were there to see him, and he was quite effective in leaving the impression that he will retire and join a Ramblers Society, a weird cult in England composed of people who like to take leisurely walks around wide open spaces. MLS means Major League Stroll. Becks, to give him his alcoholic moniker, made no tackles during the game, and I wondered if he had a no-tackle clause in his contract. And then I flashed back to an image I had seen of Becks two days ago, a shocking, homo-erotic photograph of Becks in underwear, showing his tackle. His body had been painted by the photoshop folks who designed the bodies of the actors in the movie 300. Legs wide open, it was cock-a-doodle do.

This coming Thursday, Becks will be in San Francisco, and I am planning a blag, fueled by Heineken.  With my new book Kick the Balls in hand, I plan to worm my way through security and get a photo with Becks holding my book. Stand by for the result and photograph on Friday, if I’m not tackled by security and thrown in jail.