Dancing a Fuck-Me Jig While Tripping Balls Because It Doesn't Look Like He's Going To Dance It For Any Other Reason, Now, Does It?

Let's leave the reporting to the whore Goff, since he usually manages to get the fact-like bits more or less straight. In short, MLS grand poohbah Don "Anschutz Sounds Like Anschluss and That's Good Enough for Me" Garber has thrown down a gauntlet, or pissed in a circle, or some such twaddle, in an effort to bring United's stadium situation to a head. He thinks we've seen our last game on Loud Side, at least in the place that has always been our home. Speculation is rampant about whether this means we're going to the Capital One Boomer Esiason Memorial Helmetball Field at Five Guys Curly Byrd Stadium at Comcast Lot One of the Verizon University of Maryland at M&T College Park, or whether we're gonna demolish a piece of MLK Boulevard up in Bawlmer.

I'm not arguing that DC should give United a stadium. Neither is anyone else, and DC doesn't seem to fucking get that. They never have gotten it, and after the city willingly submitted to the Lerners bending them over and assraping them for Nationals Park, it's decided that "stadium" equals "assrape." DC has a pretty simple choice: single-event-based revenue for RFK, which is large and rusty and raccoon-infested, or that revenue stream plus reasonable lease terms for 18-20 additional scheduled events there each year. Thus far, DC has chosen the obviously retarded route of trying to rape blood from a rock.

No more, it seems. I've done my best over the years to suppress BFF's panicky whimpering over the larger issues here (though he has always been philosophically correct in his pessimism about it, and that's neither new nor changed by Anschluss Don's statement in the State of the League address), but it's no longer fair to call it "panicked." I think the chance of DC agreeing to reasonable lease terms is near nil, because it's a dysfunctional city run by complete fucking retards, and RFK is operated for the city by a contractor that doesn't particularly give a shit. Where that leaves us, geographically, is still equally likely to be okay or horrible. And where that leaves our seats is, as BFF has always argued, in a fucking end zone, unless we end up in Byrd, where there will be a reasonable chance of a Loud Side (at a venue policed by UMD criminal justice grads--yay!).

Or maybe I'm just tripping balls. Again.

Yeah. Remember the good times.