Dear Major League Soccer,
I've been holding this in for some time, but I think it's time I expressed my true feelings:
I hate you.
I know this may seem harsh after the long relationship we've had. From DC United's MLS Championships to Ricardo Clark's assault on Carlos Ruiz. From McBride leaving the Crew to Taylor Twellman crying every year at the finals. It's been a great ride, but I can't hide it any longer. I hate you.
Every weekend I am forced to watch slow, boring, uninteresting and horrific soccer. It's painful. But like an annoying girlfriend that's been around for years and years, it's been hard to sever the tie.
Of course, there are Brian Ching's amazing headers and DeRosario's ridiculous bending free kicks. Then there is the speed of Dominic Oduro and the flying saves of Matt Reis. I won't deny that you give me some action here and there, but it's time you accept the fact that it's just not good enough. The problem is that the breathtaking moments happen rarely.
For the most part, it's terrible.
I hope that one day you will realize that the reason for your lack of quality, dullness, horrible first touches, and never ending turnovers can easily be fixed with one small adjustment. Beckham isn't playing in the United States because of prestige or distinction. He is here for the money, and maybe because the United States isn't a bad place to live and work, especially when your wife is the boss.
He is here because he is making $1,000,000.00 per week. Whether it's endorsements, jersey and ticket sales, Adidas contracts or just plain salary. Beckham makes more in one day than some MLS players make in a year.
It doesn't sound right because it isn't right. It's simple: quality players will leave when they are offered more money.
Adjust your salary regulations and maybe the future Altidores will be happy with their surrounding players, their salary and (oh yes, it IS possible), world class play in the United States. Until then, we are officially on a break and I will be fulfilling my needs with every means possible.
Even if it means watching Mexico's horrific excuse for a league.
Until we meet again, Diego
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