A Football Report

By Elizabeth Cotignola

For Italy, major international tournaments aren’t supposed to be an exercise in anxiety. Gli Azzurri, as the Italians are known, are not supposed to sweat out the group stages of such competitions, fixated on conspiracy theories while awaiting reports from other cities which will reveal their fate. The Italians are supposed to be among the game’s royalty, a country that can book its dinner reservations for the night before a semi-final months before kickoff – masters of their own destinies.

Yet, as gli Azzurri prepared for Monday’s match against Ireland, shaking hands lifted espresso cups from Milan to Palermo across a nation wrought with the fear that another early exit from a major international tournament was to be their fate, a mere two years after upstarts Slovakia sent the Italians packing after group play following a downright dismal showing in South Africa. The faithful remain apprehensive on the eve of gli Azzurri’s quarterfinal clash against England – a team that, historically, were a source of laughter for the Italians, rather than a legitimate threat. Somehow, in just six short years, this has become the new normal for the Azzurri.

Read More

By Elizabeth Cotignola, writing from Montreal

When Toronto FC joined Major League Soccer back in 2007, the Columbus Crew, one of the league’s ten charter members, became their chief rival. This manufactured-for-MLS rivalry was largely a conflict of convenience, a function of the lack of any other team in closer proximity to Canada’s largest city and the fact that Reds fans required a destination for road trips. The rivalry served its purpose in those early years. Some 2,400 TFC supporters filled a grandstand at the end zone at Crew Stadium for the 2008 season opener. In 2009, some actual animosity was injected into the previously placid relationship when a post-game melee led to 20 Columbus Police Department cruisers arriving on scene, a tasering and some arrests – a rare display of rambunctiousness for the usually unfailingly polite Canadians.

But in general, Torontonians have nothing against the good people of Columbus, Ohio. As far as rivalries go, that’s a tad problematic.  A competition which derives its moniker from a pretty plant - the teams compete for the Trillium Cup, named for the official flowers of Ontario and Ohio - isn’t the easiest to get excited about.

Enter the Montreal Impact. Major League Soccer’s nineteenth and newest franchise hails from the one city Torontonians love to hate most. The rivalry between these two cities has been manifested multiple times before: between the Argos and the Alouettes, the Blue Jays and the now-defunct Expos, and, most importantly, in the nation’s oldest sporting rivalry: that between the Maple Leafs and les Canadiens de Montréal. Fans of both sides have already even had a taste of what Montreal’s first season in Major League Soccer will bring.

Back in 2009 when the Impact, playing in the second-tier USL, were defending Canadian champions, the Reds went into Saputo Stadium needing to win by four goals to claim the title over the Whitecaps. They embarrassed their hosts, thumping them 6 goals to 1, to take the first trophy in the Toronto club’s history. A year later at BMO Field, TFC won 2-0 in a match featuring six yellow cards which saw Impact striker Roberto Brown sent off for a punch to the face of Toronto defender Nick Garcia.

“I think the fans came to see a soccer match and a boxing match - they got both,” said then-TFC striker Chad Barrett at the time. “You’re going to get a lot of feistiness, especially playing against Montreal. As of right now, that is our rival. It’s always going to be a heated matchup.”

Virtually no one from either side remains. But the sentiment lingers. The roots of this rivalry run deep – below layer upon layer of snow and ice.

Read More

By Elizabeth Cotignola

Globalization. Fandom. The Advent Of The Internet.

In his apartment in New York City, Marco, a devotee of the Church of AS Roma, sits hunched over his laptop, mesmerized by the match streaming from his screen - his beloved Giallorossi are playing. Then, just as Aleandro Rosi plays the ball to Pablo Osvaldo, his stream dies. He curses, then regains his composure. No matter, he thinks - I’ll check the Twitter feed. He logs on to Twitter, but finds that his timeline is marred with black lines that prevent him from gathering any information. “Strange”, he thinks, “let me check what people have posted on Tumblr.” However, when he attempts to access his Tumblr account, he is informed that the site has been dismantled in response to “various complaints of third-party copyright infringement.” Just then, he receives a text from his friend Daniele, lambasting the referee for disallowing Osvaldo’s spectacular - but allegedly offside - goal. Frantic, he checks YouTube for a video replay - and finds that YouTube, too, is gone. With all his avenues of access exhausted, Marco misses the match.

Imagine a world without the internet; a world without soccer. As post-apocalyptic as this state of affairs may seem, it could very well become the present reality in the United States - and, quite possibly, the rest of the developed world - as a result of proposed legislation which has the potential to silence the internet - and, in consequence, stifle the growth of soccer in America.

The average soccer fan spends their time preoccupied with fixtures, results and transfer rumors. Few contemplate the impact of intellectual property law on their favorite pastime. Yet there is one legal development that even the most politically apathetic fans will soon find themselves unable to ignore.

Read More