I had been thinking about writing a bit about Houston 1836 (we hardly knew ye) ever since they announced the name change. It was going to be a glorious excoriation of MLS and my favorite topic: unrivalled incompetence. I even had a great title in mind: San Houston 1836 ClashQuakes. And that zinger of an opener: “Somewhere in San Jose a Quakes fan is laughing.” It was going to be great; it was going to be brutal.
But whenever I sat down to write it I found I had nothing to say. That all changed last night when some startling allegations appeared on everyone’s favorite soccer message board. John Ellinger claimed he heard Peter Nowak yell a racist remark at a black RSL player. Peter Nowak and DC United both deny any such remark was made.
It was the second time in recent days that Major League Soccer found itself under the cloud of racism.
The Nowak allegations were met with horror, and it seemed that all quarters agreed, if the remark was made, then Nowak’s days at DC United would and should be over.
The news that Houston 1836 would change its name under pressure from sponsors and the Mexican immigrant community was met with very widespread (though not universal) anger and resistance.
In a word, the reactions were totally divergent. I’d like to offer an observation about that.
The cultural current of American soccer all tends in one direction: toward the broadest possible acceptance of all kinds of people. People from all over the world. with all sorts of ethnicities, were vital to the history of the game in this country. And there is no doubt in my mind the future of the game in this country lies largely with new immigrant communities and with wider development of the game in racial and ethnic communities. To be sure, the current doesn’t always reach its goal, and it sometimes encounters obstacles along the way. Still, the entire thrust of the cultural current of American soccer flows toward openness and the greatest possibly inclusion.
Save one persistent stream that runs in the other direction.
There was certainly some Texas pride involved in that anger and resistance concerning the 1836 name change. But I think there was something else too. American soccer fans have a special relationship with Mexico. That relationship has been cultivated for years. It’s been cultivated on both sides of the border, and it’s a decidedly unfriendly relationship.
Had the Houston moniker been widely offensive to all Latinos, or to blacks, or any other racial or ethnic group I suspect you would have seen much more consistent condemnation of the name as soon as it was announced. And I suspect a name change would have been met with relief and applause, not anger and resistance.
I can only speak first hand about the USA-Mexico relationship from my perspective on this side of the border. Nowadays we think of ourselves as up and comers on soccer’s world stage. But before that we were up and comers in CONCACAF. And before that we were CONCACAF doormats. Mexico was the regional giant; Mexico was the yardstick by which American soccer measured itself. For a very long time it seemed beating Mexico was our singular ambition.
Then it happened. In 1997 we tied them at Azteca. A few years later it was the Cold War victory. Then the most glorious of all: 2-0. I can’t help it. I swell with pride when I remember those games. Sometimes I even have to wipe away a tear.
Animosity towards Mexico - on the soccer field, anyway - is an entrenched part of American soccer culture. Even the silliest of things – the FIFA ranking – is bound to rile up American soccer fans if the USA is ranked lower than Mexico. You’ve heard it before: “We keep beating them! Why are they still ranked ahead of us?” (Actually, as I write this they’re tied with us. Good chance we finally surpass them next month. It’ll be about time if we do.)
Even Major League Soccer has played the USA vs Mexico game. Perhaps the only thing more symbolic of Mexican soccer than the Mexican national team is Chivas. I know, Chivas USA was an attempt by Major League Soccer to bring some Mexican fans into the league. But it was also clearly an attempt to bring to MLS some of the drama of the USA vs Mexico match-up that American soccer fans find so compelling. Admit it: you too chanted dos a cero during that Chivas USA game.
I well understand why MLS decided it necessary to change Houston 1836’s name. But I must admit I am among those who wish it could be otherwise. There is a certain bond between those numbers - 1836 and 2-0 - that appeals to that recalcitrant, unrepentant American soccer fan in me, the fan who relishes our rivalry with Mexico. That bond is exactly why the name had to go. I understand. But I still wish 1836 could take the field. And, yet, I am also among those who, if the allegations prove true, would call for Nowak’s dismissal.
It’s an interesting contradiction, a contradiction I suspect I share with many American soccer fans.