As usual, I had my coaching staff working the players hard physically and with the ball. I find that if I train set pieces and shooting too much too early, the team never coheres sufficiently to become the kind of possession panthers I want them to be. So it's high ball control and tactics all through March, right up until the first MLS game. And I don't have to make much of a decision about shape - I prefer a low-tempo diamond 442 with a fairly deep line and active fullbacks, and we've got the personnel to make that work (basically), so good.
Which means the preseason is about a couple of things: Making sure everyone gets a fair amount of minutes in the friendlies, and making the all-important roster decisions. MLS roster restrictions, when compared with the leagues it feels are its peers, are insanely parsimonious. 28 man roster, $50 thou a week for salaries - oh, and 10 of those contracts are the notorious 'developmental' cat-food-diet contracts. Somehow several of my wunderkinds have agreed to these insane pittance salaries, which means that I have a pretty deep roster in MLS terms.
The roster is pretty strong, but I have another factor: The club has a rich owner who expects changes. That's right - he insists I spend money.
As a longtime Fire fan, I know the areas I want to address, and let's start with Justin. Fucking. Mapp. Good lord, this kid has driven me insane with his mopey inconsistency for something like 750 years, despite being only 24 years old. And so, after a refreshing romp on a pile of the owner's money, I send Calen Carr to play in a minor league baseball stadium and summon El Piojo from Kansas City ... Calen Carr and, umm, 1.5 million dollars.
Yeah, that's right. My only excuse, really, is that it's someone else's money.
And, yeah. I need some more veteran leadership. Or better veteran leadership. So ... ehh ... Pablo! Mastroeni! for CJ Brown. And 3 million, because I really want Colorado to turn a profit this year.
Remember: Someone else's money.
At this point a madness gripped me. Gripped was I by a madness! Veteran leadership - seasoned, credentialed veteran leadership - couldn't possibly have a downside on a side carrying six (6) wunderkindsess under the age of 18. Right? RIGHT? So, gee ... Ivan Helguera. 33 years old, 47 caps for Spain, played for Valencia last year (!) and Real Madrid (!!) the 10 years before that. Available on a free (?!?) ... for the second year in a row (!?>!).
I'm working under the assumption that, for players to develop a cosmopolitan sense of the game, they need guides. And so I'm trying to provide a multitude of guides for our pile of Fire wunderkinds - Blanco and McBride, yes, the trickster and the stalwart, but also Mastroeni (the terrier) and Helguera (the dude who played with all the other dudes). I tried my damnedest to use reallife(tm) to guide my draft picks, turning two second-round selections into Chris Pontius and AJ DeLaGarza.
On a sad note, the distinguished careers of Diego Gutierrez and Brandon Prideaux came to an end earlier than in our world. The new blood crowds out the old, and round we go ...
Friday, July 31, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Del Fuego!
Another year. Another year. No matter what, those two word ground away at the back of his mind. Another year of the cycle of practice-film-practice-film-practice-scrimmage-practice-film-practice-walkthrough-game. January in Chicago, trying to play football. Ice-cold rain whipping in sheets off the lake - miserable. The world as painted by a goth kid. Always this idea, never acknowledged out of superstition, that the whole thing would be redeemed by a moment of greatness, a perfect, transcendant goal or cup win or dynasty. Chris Armas trudged to the first workout of the 2008 season without an inkling what he was about to see: An American soccer Golden Age, just being born.
The coach was new, some wild-eyed scout who'd found a bunch of players on an immigrant Argentinian cattle farm in central Michigan. Sean Spence talked his way past security to Andrew Hauptman's executive suite using a shared family background at Williams College and a gift for gab. Once there, though, he had the incredible Youtube footage he'd loaded earlier: The Argentinian-American kids from the pasture zipping the ball around effortlessly, juggling, scoring goals for fun. A spate of youth contracts later, the Fire possessed the future of American football ... for a little while, at least.
And now, Chris Armas' task begins. How to advise the genius kids? How to teach what you cannot do?
The rain blats down. The sound of leather spheres struck sweetly races out the open gym door.
* * *
So here it is: The 4,123rd blog about someone's Football Manager game (sorry, I'm in North America: Worldwide Soccer Manager game). This is a scenario I've tried a couple of times in the past, and always enjoyed, for reasons which will become obvious. After finding my way around the match engine and sharpening my tactical nous, I'm ready to give it a go in the latest iteration. 3D match engine! Exciting.
The idea here is that I'm running an MLS team which suddenly finds its bounty overflowing - a golden generation blossoms in the American Midwest. I named the added players after people in my family, because ... well ... I have three daughters, and they wonder just what in the world I'm doing over here on the computer every night around bedtime. I call this game 'the family game' for a reason: My wife, my children and I are the stars of this one particular storyline. The girls are all boys in the game, since you can't designate girls as players. (They hate that fact, if you must know.)
I've run several iterations of this idea on Championship Manager dating back to the 99-00 edition, I think. I've found that for this to have any real zest I have to adjust some of the background hoodoo a bit. Firstly, I tend to bump up the prestige of the club, in this case the Fire, to prevent the Random Scout Scenario.
Random Scout Scenario strikes when a low-prestige team starts the game with high-potential players - the first scout that runs into them suggests an academy slot, and off they run to the higher-prestige club. In other words, I start the game to find that all the youth players I just created were snatched in utero by some Euro team with a great scout. Feyenoord, usuallly. Willem II. Good lord, Seannie once wound up at Brentford.
Speaking of narcissism (weren't we?), the best young player in the game - the leader of that Golden Generation - is named after me. Yeah. Sorry. But there it is. An interesting aspect of CM/FM/WSM is the randomization of the attributes and personalities, so expect this blog to be as much about the glimmers of personality that shine through the slow interaction of the numbers. I absolutely love that shit, and I'm not sure why - if someone can figure that out for me, I'd love for that discussion to develop.
So, without further ado, the players Andrew Hauptman saw on that series of YouTube videos:
Seannie is 16, rightfooted attacking mid, keeps the ball on a string, passes anywhere, great ideas, incredible upside, and looks like he'll be starting before his 17th birthday. In a best case scenario, Blanco takes him under his wing. It's also possible Blanco could suck and he'll get pushed in early. I'd like to keep him under wraps for a while, but it seems a foregone conclusion that this kid will transfer in the January window after his 18th birthday. In every iteration, Seannie becomes one of the elite attacking midfielders in the world. This time, I have no idea. I pegged his passing, creativity, dribbling and technique, the rest is random.
Mama is short (5'5") but her striker technical stats are insane: 20s in long shots, first touch, creativity, 16s in finishing, heading and dribbling. Only average athleticism makes this believeable at all. Another 2-years-and-thanks-for-the-memories player. I think I pegged her first touch and long shots.
Kaia's the big strong striker to Mama's technical one. A finisher, though. In several of the iterations Kaia becomes a dominant striker. Pegged strength, stamina, finishing, anticipation (not sure about anticipation, honestly).
Lily is the balance to the group. First off, Lily is discovered at the ripe old age of 23 with his siblings, so he's ready to play immediately. Secondly, Lily is a thoughtful, cerebral hard-tackling midfielder, unlike the three scorching attacking talents above. Lily starts off the game on the radar of several Danish clubs no matter what you do, but the good news is he's very loyal and amenable to a long-term deal.
Anya is our class clown child, the labile one, the actress ... so of course, in the game Anya is a keeper. 20 Eccentricity! Yes! Get used to it, because he'll be world-class for about a quarter-century. This iteration may be the best one yet - some of the pure keeper stats are insane.
Kelly and Lebeau are family friends who appear in the game as a matching set of fullbacks. Like everyone else I added, they're better than I meant them to be.
A note: I really didn't mean to have the players be this good this early, but here we are and we'll deal with it - heh. The rest of the roster looks like this:
I've gone on a coach-recruiting binge, the results of which I'll post shortly. For now, I'll leave you with the work of my assistant manager, Mike Matkovic, who apparently believes that more games are better in the preseason - holy shit! He's arranged a game every two days for a couple of weeks there. Nutty.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
It's nice to be right sometimes
I've written before about my team in Trophy Manager, FC Flint Utd. I've written about my determination to make a West Ham- or River Plate-style football factory a reality in this virtual space.
Trophy Manager is a thoroughgoing sim of the finanace of a professional football club. I wanted to thrive basically wholly with homegrown talent. It's been ... difficult.
I started, way back in season 4 (it's now season 12) in the fourth division of American football, and the level of the club has grown incredibly. Varden Pomeroy was the promising young player in those days - he won the U21 player-of-the-year for league 4.1 in that first season. Now, he's a 27-year-old who's more coach than player. He hasn't made the matchday squad this season.
The team, as it is now, is almost entirely FC Flint academy products, and I'm a couple of decent results away from winning 3.5. In any case, it'll likely be back to the second division next season - we'll see if my boys have the two-promotions-in-two-years trick in them.
I've got a team loaded with attackers. My best player, though, is a defender, Phil Dickson, who is 20 and has a couple of USA caps to his name already - but I've got 3 strikers about that level around that age, a couple of other defenders, and an assssssload of midfielders. I'm excited to go back to the 2nd Division without my hat in my hand.
If anyone wants to look, here's my Trophy Manager team.
Trophy Manager is a thoroughgoing sim of the finanace of a professional football club. I wanted to thrive basically wholly with homegrown talent. It's been ... difficult.
I started, way back in season 4 (it's now season 12) in the fourth division of American football, and the level of the club has grown incredibly. Varden Pomeroy was the promising young player in those days - he won the U21 player-of-the-year for league 4.1 in that first season. Now, he's a 27-year-old who's more coach than player. He hasn't made the matchday squad this season.
The team, as it is now, is almost entirely FC Flint academy products, and I'm a couple of decent results away from winning 3.5. In any case, it'll likely be back to the second division next season - we'll see if my boys have the two-promotions-in-two-years trick in them.
I've got a team loaded with attackers. My best player, though, is a defender, Phil Dickson, who is 20 and has a couple of USA caps to his name already - but I've got 3 strikers about that level around that age, a couple of other defenders, and an assssssload of midfielders. I'm excited to go back to the 2nd Division without my hat in my hand.
If anyone wants to look, here's my Trophy Manager team.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
The most unlikeliest result of all the unlikely results
Somehow, unlike in the real world, the English language won the football in my FastDice Soccer simulation. Here we are, ready for the final, and they're singing God Save the Queen (40 years on, what a story, who'dathunk, kin'abringsatearin'nit?) and ... I shit you not ... the Star-Spangled Banner. England v. USA, the mother country v. my mother country.
But first, a quick depiction of the semifinals I just simmed, while I can remember some of the ebb and flow ...
Argentina 0, England 1 a.e.t.
England surprised the confident Argentines by establishing a cerebral passing game and sticking with it. The Albiceleste defended well, but the English midfield duo of Gerrard and Lampard - so often disappointing when together in real life - were incredible in this game, completely unsettling Cambiasso, Riquelme et al.
England's dominance faded as the game went on, though, and the goal that seemed so close wouldn't come. The massive pro-England crowd grew pensive and pessimistic, and it wasn't hard to see the strain on the players' faces. As extra time beckoned, Argentina brought on England-killer Saviola for the inevitable dagger.
The dagger, though, when it came, was for the South Americans. Joe Cole's persistence in storming off the left flank paid off - his whistling diagonal pass slicing toward Rooney just past the spot; Maxi Rodriguez, hustling back into the penalty area, realizing the danger posed by the Rooney, contorting himself to leap at the pass. His desperate, glancing header. The ball in the top corner, in ultrasuper slomo in every television in the solar system. England in the World Cup Final.
USA 1, Spain 0
This one was conventional, if unlikely. Spain pinged the ball around a la Arsene's Arsenal, but (like that lovely outfit) didn't make all that much happen. The Spanish turned a nearly 4-1 possession advantage into a magical 4-3 lead in shots.
When the Spanish did break through - Fernando Torres in particular tortured the US defense for the entire 90 minutes - Kasey Keller was there, diving and tipping and just averting disaster.
This one might have gone the full two hours if it weren't for one magical finish. Brian Ching wrote his name into national lore when his screaming volley finished off a simple, clinical counter-attack for the Americans. (Play-by-play: Bocanegra to Reyna, Reyna pauses and steps into some space, Reyna with a direct ball to CHING!!! WONDERGOAL FROM CHING!!! was how it sounded in my head.)
So, in Excel spreadsheet simulations, english wins. yay english.
yay beer. boo angry ruling class.
But first, a quick depiction of the semifinals I just simmed, while I can remember some of the ebb and flow ...
Argentina 0, England 1 a.e.t.
England surprised the confident Argentines by establishing a cerebral passing game and sticking with it. The Albiceleste defended well, but the English midfield duo of Gerrard and Lampard - so often disappointing when together in real life - were incredible in this game, completely unsettling Cambiasso, Riquelme et al.
England's dominance faded as the game went on, though, and the goal that seemed so close wouldn't come. The massive pro-England crowd grew pensive and pessimistic, and it wasn't hard to see the strain on the players' faces. As extra time beckoned, Argentina brought on England-killer Saviola for the inevitable dagger.
The dagger, though, when it came, was for the South Americans. Joe Cole's persistence in storming off the left flank paid off - his whistling diagonal pass slicing toward Rooney just past the spot; Maxi Rodriguez, hustling back into the penalty area, realizing the danger posed by the Rooney, contorting himself to leap at the pass. His desperate, glancing header. The ball in the top corner, in ultrasuper slomo in every television in the solar system. England in the World Cup Final.
USA 1, Spain 0
This one was conventional, if unlikely. Spain pinged the ball around a la Arsene's Arsenal, but (like that lovely outfit) didn't make all that much happen. The Spanish turned a nearly 4-1 possession advantage into a magical 4-3 lead in shots.
When the Spanish did break through - Fernando Torres in particular tortured the US defense for the entire 90 minutes - Kasey Keller was there, diving and tipping and just averting disaster.
This one might have gone the full two hours if it weren't for one magical finish. Brian Ching wrote his name into national lore when his screaming volley finished off a simple, clinical counter-attack for the Americans. (Play-by-play: Bocanegra to Reyna, Reyna pauses and steps into some space, Reyna with a direct ball to CHING!!! WONDERGOAL FROM CHING!!! was how it sounded in my head.)
So, in Excel spreadsheet simulations, english wins. yay english.
yay beer. boo angry ruling class.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Fast Dice World Cup '06: The Update
I'm up to the semifinals of Copa Mundial '06, and it looks like this:
Argentina v. England
USA v. Spain
Yeah. USA v. Spain. I SWEAR! TO! GOD! I'm not cooking the frickin' numbers. I wondered about my influence as observer earlier - it goes deep. Check this out:
To get to the semis, the US had about the cushiest draw imaginable. Croatia and Japan laid absolute eggs in the group stage, and an average Australia team slipped through. The US dominated possession and slipped by with a single goal, 1-0, and on to the quarters.
I mean, holy shit, the quarterfinals of the World friggin' Cup. Who's it gonna be? Brazil? France? Italy? England? The Netherlands? Spain? Germany? Argentina?
Ehhhh, heh-heh. Heh. No. The USA settled down after beating the Aussies to take in the majesty of Switzerland v. Saudi Arabia. Yeah! The Bankers v. The Barons. Fantastic. The world was on pins and needles to see which branch of the oligarchy played us, lately the world's villains. This wasn't how we assumed it would be in 1982. The Swiss rang up two in the second half to win, 1-3.
So it was the Swiss for Uncle Sam's boys. Mastroeni sprung Beasley behind the D in the 74th, and good gosh a-mighty, the US is in the semis. Now Spain awaits - the first really good team the US has played since group. Weird.
Anyway, I'm gonna sim the rest, then post the whole shebang. Dig.
Argentina v. England
USA v. Spain
Yeah. USA v. Spain. I SWEAR! TO! GOD! I'm not cooking the frickin' numbers. I wondered about my influence as observer earlier - it goes deep. Check this out:
To get to the semis, the US had about the cushiest draw imaginable. Croatia and Japan laid absolute eggs in the group stage, and an average Australia team slipped through. The US dominated possession and slipped by with a single goal, 1-0, and on to the quarters.
I mean, holy shit, the quarterfinals of the World friggin' Cup. Who's it gonna be? Brazil? France? Italy? England? The Netherlands? Spain? Germany? Argentina?
Ehhhh, heh-heh. Heh. No. The USA settled down after beating the Aussies to take in the majesty of Switzerland v. Saudi Arabia. Yeah! The Bankers v. The Barons. Fantastic. The world was on pins and needles to see which branch of the oligarchy played us, lately the world's villains. This wasn't how we assumed it would be in 1982. The Swiss rang up two in the second half to win, 1-3.
So it was the Swiss for Uncle Sam's boys. Mastroeni sprung Beasley behind the D in the 74th, and good gosh a-mighty, the US is in the semis. Now Spain awaits - the first really good team the US has played since group. Weird.
Anyway, I'm gonna sim the rest, then post the whole shebang. Dig.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Good lord, I'm a dingo
So today I'm posting a comment on Adam Spangler's This is American Soccer - which everyone should read immediately - and I follow my own name-link here, only to find that the last time I posted was almost exactly EIGHT MONTHS AGO.
Holy crap, am I a slacker. That, on top of being a slacker: Behold the birth of Slacknerd.
Yikes.
So, err, hi there everyone. (Meaning, of course, 'no one,' but whachagonnado?) I'll be back soon with updates on the FDS World Cup, my Trophy Manager experience, and other fun soccer-and-gaming stuff. If anyone wants to read it, well, it'll be free, so at least worth what you've paid for it.
Holy crap, am I a slacker. That, on top of being a slacker: Behold the birth of Slacknerd.
Yikes.
So, err, hi there everyone. (Meaning, of course, 'no one,' but whachagonnado?) I'll be back soon with updates on the FDS World Cup, my Trophy Manager experience, and other fun soccer-and-gaming stuff. If anyone wants to read it, well, it'll be free, so at least worth what you've paid for it.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
The 'hot stove,' MLS Rumors, and you
I came of age in the 80s. As a sports-aware, literate kid in that decade, I learned - like virtually everyone of that age and persuasion - the intensely geeky joy of 'rotisserie baseball,' as invented by the editors and writers of the national sports pages I read as often as possible. In turn, those men would refer constantly to the baseball off-season as the 'hot stove league,' when the minds behind the teams wheeled and dealed to move their club to the top of the heap.
For some reason, the naming has stuck, and ventured out past its original confines. Now even MLS - which didn't exist during my childhood - has its hot stove period: The January transfer window, when promising Americans flash doe-eyes at Europe and MLS general managers rack up frequent-flyer miles trying to find just the right South American to replace them.
I comb the usual suspects every morning for news: Soccer by Ives, Steve Goff's blog on the WaPo, du Nord ... and for the hot-stove period, add another name to the blogroll: MLS Rumors.
MLS Rumors is everything the others are not: Wild, irresponsible and reckless, which makes it a useful addition. The increasing traffic of players coming and going in the American game, and the increasing interest of the hardcore fanbase, cries out for a rumor-mill site, and damned if MLSR isn't pretty good. (You know you're cranking out quality rumorania when the traffic from South America jumps.)
So here's the FF seal of approval: MLS Rumors, I love ya.
Now, to the deals pending:
Eddie Johnson finally heading overseas, to Fulham. What's that, five Americans on the roster? How in the world can this be? McBride, Bocanegra, Dempsey, Keller and EJ. Wild.
The $3.2 million question: Can EJ marry his physical potential to some football intelligence, or will he just run around like a fool? If he can't improve with McBride, Boca and Demps easing the transition, and Premiership football on offer, then our man EJ is living inside the Jeff Cunningham Career Experience.
Hertha Berlin loves never-glimpsed DC United reserve Bryan Arguez. Yeah, the coach called Arguez a 'mini-Ronaldinho,' which is odd for a kid who plays linking midfield. DC sent him for offseason training and the Berliners are panting about a possible transfer.
Let me get this straight: DC had an 18-year-old on the roster with crazy ball skills, great vision, and enough bite to play holding mid, and he didn't play a a single fucking minute with the first team all season. Is that right?
If Hertha Berlin is right, and they sign the kid, it's hard to see how United and MLS won't have egg on their faces here. I mean, we hear all this talk about development initiatives. What the fuck?
TT is angry as hell and isn't gonna take it no more! By 'take it,' I mean continue making a mere 350k for the next four years, per his contract, instead of leaving for the $2 mil transfer to Preston North End in England. Twellman wants DP money to show the Revs 'value' him, since this is realistically his last chance to show his stuff in Europe, where the money's better.
See, as a guy who goes to work every day with exactly zero guarantees that I'm making even a fucking dime, it's hard for me to get crazy sympathetic with Twellman. My guess is he bitches and whines and then shows up and works hard for Stevie Nicol like always.
He may not have his good buddy, cracker-afro master Pat Noonan, by his side anymore, though. The Revs have passed on Noonan's option, making him a free agent. Why? I'm guessing it has to do with being cheaper than Ebenezer Scrooge. But who cares, right? The Pats are undefeated!!!!!!1!!
I loves me some Noonan. Here's to hoping that he and Michael Owen both get some hamstring-fixin' miracle cure.
For some reason, the naming has stuck, and ventured out past its original confines. Now even MLS - which didn't exist during my childhood - has its hot stove period: The January transfer window, when promising Americans flash doe-eyes at Europe and MLS general managers rack up frequent-flyer miles trying to find just the right South American to replace them.
I comb the usual suspects every morning for news: Soccer by Ives, Steve Goff's blog on the WaPo, du Nord ... and for the hot-stove period, add another name to the blogroll: MLS Rumors.
MLS Rumors is everything the others are not: Wild, irresponsible and reckless, which makes it a useful addition. The increasing traffic of players coming and going in the American game, and the increasing interest of the hardcore fanbase, cries out for a rumor-mill site, and damned if MLSR isn't pretty good. (You know you're cranking out quality rumorania when the traffic from South America jumps.)
So here's the FF seal of approval: MLS Rumors, I love ya.
Now, to the deals pending:
Eddie Johnson finally heading overseas, to Fulham. What's that, five Americans on the roster? How in the world can this be? McBride, Bocanegra, Dempsey, Keller and EJ. Wild.
The $3.2 million question: Can EJ marry his physical potential to some football intelligence, or will he just run around like a fool? If he can't improve with McBride, Boca and Demps easing the transition, and Premiership football on offer, then our man EJ is living inside the Jeff Cunningham Career Experience.
Hertha Berlin loves never-glimpsed DC United reserve Bryan Arguez. Yeah, the coach called Arguez a 'mini-Ronaldinho,' which is odd for a kid who plays linking midfield. DC sent him for offseason training and the Berliners are panting about a possible transfer.
Let me get this straight: DC had an 18-year-old on the roster with crazy ball skills, great vision, and enough bite to play holding mid, and he didn't play a a single fucking minute with the first team all season. Is that right?
If Hertha Berlin is right, and they sign the kid, it's hard to see how United and MLS won't have egg on their faces here. I mean, we hear all this talk about development initiatives. What the fuck?
TT is angry as hell and isn't gonna take it no more! By 'take it,' I mean continue making a mere 350k for the next four years, per his contract, instead of leaving for the $2 mil transfer to Preston North End in England. Twellman wants DP money to show the Revs 'value' him, since this is realistically his last chance to show his stuff in Europe, where the money's better.
See, as a guy who goes to work every day with exactly zero guarantees that I'm making even a fucking dime, it's hard for me to get crazy sympathetic with Twellman. My guess is he bitches and whines and then shows up and works hard for Stevie Nicol like always.
He may not have his good buddy, cracker-afro master Pat Noonan, by his side anymore, though. The Revs have passed on Noonan's option, making him a free agent. Why? I'm guessing it has to do with being cheaper than Ebenezer Scrooge. But who cares, right? The Pats are undefeated!!!!!!1!!
I loves me some Noonan. Here's to hoping that he and Michael Owen both get some hamstring-fixin' miracle cure.
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