We could easily overly simplify the picture of Sunday's MLS Cup Final. The Galaxy are stocking stuffed with glitter and glam; the rich, pretty and powerful from sunny SoCal.
Meanwhile, Real Salt Lake are layered smoothly with good and loyal league soldiers who have toiled somewhat anonymously on the fringes of greater stardom.
The Galaxy are a team of mighty stars, commanded by the dean of MLS bosses. RSL is currently is a side on a mighty run, reeling along on grit and guts and courageous conviction.
If this were Main Street USA, it would look a little like the corner office Power Ties vs. the Name Tags from the mail room. The team of upper crust brood vs. the team for the toiling masses.
As labels go, it would be convenient, but just a little too elementary. Drill down a little deeper and we see why the matchup appears so.
This looks to me like a battle of hard-won, high-level experience vs. a team of -- do we dare say it -- destiny. And that's why, to put a finer point on it, the league's 14th MLS Cup Final looks so intriguing.
I talked to Jason Kreis on Monday and started to ask about Galaxy's edge in experience. At that moment, I really had not sat and calculated the vastness of the gulf. But as I asked RSL's young manager about it and how to mitigate the colossal edge in big-match experience, I actually began feeling a little badly, like I was glumly listing all the bad things that could happen to a race car driver just before he peeled away from the start line.
David Beckham has endured the harshest possible media glare, serially taming the English tabloid beast in World Cups, European Championships, UEFA Champions League, etc. Suffice to say, Beckham knows how to handle the glamour matches, from all the accompanying hullabaloo and histrionics to the match itself.
Landon Donovan? The man is just 27 but more like 47 in U.S. soccer years. He's already played in a World Cup quarterfinal, along with seven other contests in world soccer's ultimate pressure cooker. He just steered yet another World Cup qualification effort. He has three MLS Cup titles and more playoff goals than any human being. Pressure? That man probably feels more pressure negotiating the 405 from L.A. to Carson every day than he'll feel Sunday on the Xbox Pitch at Qwest.
Remember, I'm saying something like this to Kreis, albeit in shorter version. I kept going.
Eddie Lewis has started in World Cup matches. Chris Klein has 23 appearances in the U.S. shirt, including appearances in important qualifiers. If that doesn't sound like a significant number of U.S. caps, consider that Real Salt Lake's leader in appearances has 10. That's Kyle Beckerman, who got most of his chances in the national colors in last summer's Gold Cup.
Robbie Findley has one cap, and he's sure to get more; the point is, he doesn't have 'em yet. Oh, and Nick Rimando has one U.S. appearance. Back in 2002.
Do folks realize that Jovan Kirovski, a role player who doesn't even start for Los Angeles, has 62 U.S. caps?
See what I mean about the implausibly slanted advantage for L.A. in terms of experience? Here's what Kreis told me:
"I think we've got enough players with experience," he said, noting Rimando's MLS title at D.C. United in 2004 and Beckerman's impressive Gold Cup performance. "I don't look at like we've got a lot of rookies that haven't been in pressure situations before."
Kreis himself, for all his previous MLS scoring exploits has neither played nor coached in an MLS Cup final. Contrast that to the man on the other bench, Bruce Arena.
While Kreis is the league's youngest manager, Arena is the second oldest. And the gap for Arena is filled with NCAA titles, MLS titles and guidance of the U.S. national team over seven years. Kreis was still five years from retirement as a player when Arena achieved perhaps his greatest coaching moment, overseeing a World Cup quarterfinal.
So it looks like a big edge to me. That doesn't mean that Los Angeles will win. But it surely reduces the unknown unknowns for Los Angeles. That is, Arena doesn't have to worry about his team's ability to bare the heavy heat.
RSL isn't going to fall to pieces. But even one or two nervous players can be a dangerous contagion.
Kreis seems unworried. And I think I understand why. In fact, I think a lot of people understand why. Listen to Chris Klein, the Galaxy's highly respected veteran midfielder:
"We do have guys that have played in lot of big games before, so from that standpoint it does help," Klein said. "But a team like Salt Lake, they've been plowing through teams the last couple of months.
"You kind of get the sense they are rolling with this thing, and that they have a lot of confidence right now," Klein said. "I know they are thinking in their locker room that they have the mental edge, and they certainly are on a roll. You look at them right now, and it's pretty scary getting ready to play them."
Scary? He really said that?
I can tell you he said it. He meant it. And I don't disagree.
To underestimate the powerful push of momentum is a foolish thing. Consider the minefield RSL negotiated on its way to Seattle. The fellows from Rio Tinto trumped favored sides defiantly at their places in Columbus and Chicago. Talk about the little kid on the block walking up the neighborhood bully and kicking him square in the face.
Kreis' side has good players; let's not make any mistake about that. Javier Morales maintains possession and keeps the ball moving as well as anyone in the 2009 playoffs. Beckerman is five pounds of hair and 160 pounds of ferocious antipathy for blue ribbon resumes. I've only talked to Beckerman a few times and don't know him well, but I'd wager a ticket to Sunday's final (and they aren't easy to find right now) that he doesn't give two hoots about how many World Cup matches Beckham has played.
Nick Rimando must be feeling more confident today than Hugh Hefner at one of his own parties. His demonstration of penalty kick expertise against Chicago may forever highlight the club's historical chronicles.
Nat Borchers and Jamison Olave are every bit as good as the Galaxy's far more heralded pair of fine center backs. (They are, at least, when Olave keeps his head about him, which he has done reliably over the season's back half.) Will Johnson is the quintessential blue collar midfielder. He's skillful enough, but his real value is that unconquerable work rate and desire.
The point is, talent at Rio Tinto surely prevails. But talent isn't what's driving the current effort. This team has a chip on its shoulder, a small-market "no one believes in us" bond. Accurate or not, when that feeling coalesces, it fastens a locker room with Super Glue adherence.
This touching matter with Andy Williams and his deeply affecting family situation has created a greater attachment still. Kreis acknowledged the closeness his team shares with Williams, and he said it all served to create deeper layers of bonding between the supporters and players.
"But we already had a tight group," he said. "We never needed any extra adversity [to bond over]. We've had a close group for two years now. We've got a bunch guys who really get along, a lot of good, quality people on this team."
Watching what happened in Chicago and a week earlier in Columbus, it's easy to believe him. Chances of a successful visiting team ambush increase dramatically when players share a genuine affection, when they huddle up before the match and quietly swear a brotherly oath not to let down the guy to their left and their right. And mean it.
Over consecutive Saturdays, Kreis' side, roiling and rolling, washed away all that bad mojo from five years of organizational ineptitude on the road. That's not to say they'll win reliably as a visitor from here on. But they no longer must wonder if they can.
If anyone believes the men from Utah have no chance to overcome the significant edges in difference making talent (Donovan and Beckham) and big-game experience, there are reams of write-ups on huge upsets in U.S. sports to study -- many of them steeped in the uncompromising boil of brilliant team chemistry.
By the way, one more thing: the early forecasts calls for a lot of "Seattle" on Sunday. That is, rain and chill and general yuk.
It's rainy outside at the moment. Today's forecast: rain and temperatures in the 40s. Tomorrow's forecast: Rain and temperatures in the 40s. Friday's forecast ... well, you get it. It'll be like this all week, including Sunday night.
Cold, wet and harsh? Seems like an ideal evening for scrappy overachievers, far less perfect for the team with AAA-rated resumes.
Personally, I don't really believe in "destiny" and such. But momentum and steely self-belief sure can make it seem like such formidable forces are at work.
Steve Davis is a freelance writer who has covered Major League Soccer since its inception. Steve writes for www.DailySoccerFix.com and can be reached at BigTexSoccer@yahoo.com. The views and opinions expressed in this column are those of the author's, and not necessarily those of Major League Soccer or MLSnet.com.
