Snow is piling up again, and I was hoping I could move on with this metaphor so we can finish the season with the whole gushing rapids image and another MLS Cup. Instead, the 1-0 loss to Seattle puts us back in the snowpack somewhere. Oscar genuinely eschews excuses, but he won’t let an elephant in the room pass gas quietly.
I was there on Friday when practice took on that audible hushed tone and everyone was standing around quiet. Guys get hurt every 90 seconds or so during the course of training (pardon the hyperbole), and play goes on. When it’s quiet, you know something is wrong.
Head trainer Jaime Rojas jogged to his phone, and Dillon Powers headed over and sat down holding his head together with a bandage. When asked if he was OK, he nodded like it was a mosquito bite or something. Don’t ask him, I thought. He’s too tough to make an honest assessment. That’s what I thought. I guess it’s no biggie to need a few stitches, but 40 is a Quaker’s quilt. Other players compared their zig-zag scars over their eyebrows, and Powers played the following afternoon.
That’s the bright spot.
Roommate Deshorn Brown limped over, out for the game. Buddle joined the sideline during warmups, and Marvell Wynne limped to join them early in the second half. You know the rest of the sideline names. Actually, it’s now a starting 11 (I’ll let you count them yourself).
If it’s freezing and your tent blows away like a tumbleweed leaving DSGP for Kansas, you will get cold. You wouldn’t say that getting cold is an excuse. You’d try to get warm again and thaw out eventually.