Let me start this off with a warning – don’t try this at home. I’m a trained Sports Fan working under controlled conditions. Less experienced spectators have crashed and burned attempting what I recently set out to do:  Watch 180 consecutive minutes of soccer – a doubleheader. On purpose.

First I have to fess up a bit. This is the point in any discussion of soccer that I normally trot out my best soccer jokes – the ones involving No-Doze, finally finding a cure for insomnia, blah blah blah. But my heart isn’t in it this time. See, I’ve actually come to like soccer.

No, I’m not going to go all “Beautiful Game” and poetry in motion on you. And other than a World Cup game involving the U.S., it would never cross my mind to turn on the television and search for a soccer game. But in person…it’s not half-bad.

Layered on top of this newfound deep like for soccer is my solemn pledge to research and report on interesting angles in the world of sports. And what could be more interesting than two soccer games that are mirror images of each other? Both involving nationally ranked collegiate teams. Both involving long-time rivalries. Both played on the pitch at UCLA’s venerable Drake Stadium. Back to back. With one fundamental difference. Gender.

Yes, in a controlled environment I was able to observe and confirm that…women are different from men.

Travel with me now to the deep recesses of Westwood, California as I begin my research.  

UCLA Women (#9) vs. Pepperdine

I chose a seat in the top row of the grandstand, just below the press box. My motivation was in securing the best possible view, but I wound up with a bonus – I happened to be sitting right below the radio announcers covering the game. Through their open-air window I could more or less hear the play-by-play call, which I learned was about as good as it gets for live spectating.

Think about it:  You get the expertise and detailed information you’d normally sacrifice by attending a game live, AND you’re not limited to just the pictures televised (or painted by a radio announcer). You can take in the whole spectrum of the game while someone else does the thinking part for you! I can see this concept catching on – and in all aspects of life, not just sports.

“Listening to the radio” while watching the game unfold before me educated me on how difficult it can be to call a soccer game (and I’m thinking a hockey game as well). Or at least it’s difficult if you’re trying to report on every change of possession. Because those happen a lot – although truth be told, the vast majority of those “changes of feet” are inconsequential. That aspect of soccer is boring to watch and tough to call, but it becomes an integral part of any action that does actually lead to a goal, so you can’t mail it in as an announcer. Or a spectator.

This brings me back to my newly acquired appreciation for soccer watched live. It’s kind of mesmerizing to just sit back and watch the ball against the backdrop of the full field  – and a lot easier to do than when watching hockey. If you’re not trying to over-think strategies or cause and effect, you can fall into an enjoyable semi-trance which is enhanced by the occasional score or close call.

And on a warm October evening in Los Angeles there are a lot worse things you can do. Trust me – I’m a highly-trained professional at this.

The scoreboard at Drake Stadium is like all of the other scoreboards at UCLA athletic facilities – basic and a little aged, but elegant in how effectively they communicate the important stuff. I have to believe that at some point, people tasked with making do with older technology got together and said, “OK, let’s focus on what somebody who’s seriously watching this game wants to know.”

The soccer scoreboard displays the basics of score and the accumulated time. But in addition it also shows Shots, Saves and Corner Kicks. And those three stats told me everything I needed to determine which team was actually winning the battle on the field – which in soccer is often much different than which team has the most goals.

For example, at the 30 minute mark of the game, Pepperdine was leading 1-0, having scored a semi-fluke goal early in the game. In the stats behind the score though, UCLA was leading in shots and corner kicks…and had yet to make a save, while Pepperdine had recorded three. That underscored that UCLA had been taking the offensive pressure to Pepperdine, who in contrast had simply been fortunate enough to score on the one shot on goal that they had mustered. Maybe it’s just me, but I think that’s value-added info for the fan in the stands. Or perhaps I just need a different hobby.

As the game progressed though, Pepperdine appeared to be getting stronger and more confident – almost like they suddenly felt they belonged in the lead. In one sequence that took place 60 minutes into the game, UCLA goalie Chante Sandiford was called upon to make two big plays in a row, batting away a shot over the crossbar, and then making a leaping catch on the ensuing Pepperdine corner kick.

In contrast, pieces of UCLA’s game gradually started to fall off. While in the first two-thirds of the game most of their shots on goal were…well, on goal, by the midpoint of the second half they were sailing well over the crossbar. Frustration clearly began to mount.

In the end, UCLA allowed Pepperdine to believe that they could beat them. After a fairly random goal early in the game, the Waves withstood one UCLA onslaught after another – kind of like letting the Bruins punch themselves out. Having hung in to survive that flurry, by the end of the game they had total control. UCLA never mounted a serious scoring challenge down the stretch, and in fact crossed midfield only a couple of times in the final five minutes.

And then the game was over.  1-0, Pepperdine. It was a clinic on how to beat a heavily favored team in their own stadium. 

During a break in the action late in the game, a moment of quiet charm occurred, when a Pepperdine defender bent down to lace up the untied shoe of her goalie for her. I wasn’t exactly sure why she felt compelled to provide that service, but when she was done I half-expected her to hand her teammate a SpongeBob SquarePants lunchbox, pat her on the head, and scoot her off to class.

I’m guessing this wouldn’t happen in a men’s game – soccer or otherwise. We’d run around with untied shoes until we tripped and broke our neck before we’d have another guy tie our laces for us. Why? I don’t have 100% confirmation on this yet, but my research thus far points to just one conclusion:  Because we’re stupid.

To be concluded in next post…