Monday, July 11, 2011

Dear ABQ PD

Dear Albuquerque Police Department

Hello, I regret that you must find out like this but I believe there is no other way. We can no longer be together. Its just to hard. Please don't take this the wrong way. Certainly I did somethings wrong. While I didn't explicitly know that you didn't like it when I talked on my phone while driving the speed limit. I should have. And I could make excuses, like how I wasn't thinking clearly with the sound of rushing wind from the cars driving 90+ mph in the lane next to me, I won't. I didn't hold up my end of the bargain. However, I think your behaviour has been strange lately. Something is wrong. Like the other day when I caught your eye at the traffic light. The intimidating scowl you gave me just wasn't the same. Oh sure, you tried to make it up by stopping short at the next traffic light so you could see and probably run my license plate but the FEELING isn't there any more. And tonight, when you pulled me over so we could talk. I could tell your heart wasn't in it. You didn't even know the fines associated with the violations you gave me. Or the fact that you assigned me a court date and time without telling me that these particular violations in New Mexico did not require a court appearance. Some might call that incompetence but I know better. You're afraid of me leaving. That's why you scheduled my court date for the afternoon the DAY BEFORE I FLY BACK TO ALABAMA. Were other times available? I'm certain. And try as you might, I saw through the disinterested facade you put up when I told you I had to fly home the next day. You were dying inside and just afraid to show me. Which makes this so much harder. ABQPD, we're growing apart you and I. To me you'll always be the happy go lucky, look-around-my-car-with-a-flashlight-then-tell-me-you-pulled-me-over-because-my-window-is-cracked type gal. Then we would laugh about how that isn't a crime at all and I had more then likely already noticed the crack in my windshield. I'd make a joke about how some people might misconstrue your playful interest for something less noble like an unwarranted inspection of my person, car and its contents. Then you'd start to pout and walk back to your car for 30 minutes while you checked everything but my dental records. And to you, I'll always be a young looking male that probably has drugs on him. Listen, people change (except you) but we'll always have the memories. You'll meet someone else. Oh wait you did. Five minutes after you pulled me over. On the same highway. By the same officer. And again, half a mile down the road. See, there are other young, male, probably dangerous fish in the sea for you to find and inform of the cracks in their windshields. No Darlin, please be calm. That is a spoon not a gun.

Love Always
Madison

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Kicks on Route 66 Finally

6/26/11 12:31pm

Ok, ok, ok. Let's get this out of the way. The US lost and lost badly. We went up by two goals. Then we lost our right back who is also probably our best defender and everything went to Hell. No excuse though. Mexico lost two of their best defenders and found a way to overcome it. Best 11 versus best 11 the USA matches up pretty well with El Tri. It was their depth that beat us.
        As far as the rest of the day, it was fun. I met up with two punk show promoters, my friend Veronica and a girl named Nny. We rode all over Hell's half acre, that's in Albuquerque you know, putting up fliers for a few shows. It was cool. Well, actually it was unbearably hot but you get what I'm trying to say. We hit up all the usual places. Guitar stores, light poles, dimly lit saloons, the bar scene from Sin City... We started in east Albuquerque, then went to the Mall. Then we concentrated on Central Street which is aptly named by the way. I think everything else in Albuquerque is a huge facade to make the city look full. In reality it's all on Central. This is closer to true then I think any of you realize. Everywhere I go it seems is on or near Central.
        At this point the girls and I parted ways. The girls went to a wildlife exhibit known as a "Greaser Roundup". How does one round up greasers you might ask. It's simple, beer and cigarettes. Car painted only in primer help too. Meanwhile, I was unknowingly walking into a trap set by my old nemeses Giovanni Dos Santos and... JONATHAN BORNSTEIN!!!! I have a nephew named Thomas. Thomas learned to kick a ball maybe eight months ago. I believe the national team should scout him for left back. He can't be worse then Bornstein.
        It all started with the US getting beat off the field and leading by two goals. We weren't playing better but we were winning. Its called American soccer. More specifically, its called the USA-Mexico game. But in the making of that lead we lost our best defender and Hannover 96 captain, Steve Cherundolo. Dolo for short. Things went south (of the border, hahahahaha) from there. They put four goals past us and we looked like a wreck.
        But everything else about watching the game, besides the game, was great. Tosh, the guy I met at the first USA game I watched in Albuquerque, showed up as did about two dozen other USA fans. And my punk promoting friends showed up at halftime. We had a beer and tried to not notice Jonathan Bornstein. For his part he was trying to lay low too. I don't think Dos Santos even knew he was there. And the atmosphere was great. There were people there wearing USA jerseys besides me. It was a little Twilight Zone-ish at first. They'd call offsides and it looked like the fans there understood what was going on. Once that shock wore off it was great.
        Ok, now the Gold Cup is over and with it my soccer watching experience in famed Route 66. All in all, the signage and stuff is cool but the soccer is the same. The people were very cool and they appear to have a decent number of fans here. Its a shame that the two worst Gold Cup losses I ever saw happened while I was here. Hell, maybe not. Maybe this place is bad luck and me leaving will give us a new golden era for US soccer.
        Or, more likely, me coming here coincided with the end of our golden era. We have good players and a better infrastructure but we're about to lose our best and the next generation isn't ready yet. Let's face it. The coming storm of US soccer players that is forever 10-12 years away hasn't come yet. We have the players but we have no coaches. I like Bob Bradley but the development system beneath him failed us. We don't need a left back, we need ten left backs. Right now we have one. And God help us if he gets hurt. We'll be back. We'll be better. We're America. We absolutely can't stand losing, not to Europeans. But It's going to take longer to get to that Promised Land then any of us had thought. And we might be made to pay for it fairly heavily in the years until we get there.
        Ok, enough of that. I promise the next entry will be more interesting to people besides me. Ya'll stay cool. Later.

Madison