We got rope-a-doped. San Jose gifted us thirty minutes of barren, wide open midfield to do whatever we wanted and we ran ourselves dry. I guess the altitude just got to us or something. We became complacent with our one goal advantage and the Earthquakes shook us apart.
Dear Wondolowski: Please retire from scoring goals against RSL. Love, Andy. P.S. Boo.
We could have won this match in those first thirty minutes. We had so many chances, but our complacency was pounced upon.
We were outcoached. That Marcinkowski is a quality keeper. We threw our hands up. We gave it a great final ten minutes, but it was too little too late.
Maybe the playoffs are too cold. Too much late season running. Perhaps no one wants Mastroeni to become head coach. San Jose might have just wanted to save some face by showing that they can still hang despite missing the playoffs.
To look at the scoreline, one might think we put in a stronger shift than that.
Dear Vancouver, LA, Minnesota, and LAFC: Please let us have a playoff spot instead of you. Love, Andy. P.S. Boo.
P.S. Boo might become boo hoo.
I’m wondering if RSL came down with a bad case of diarrhea in the middle of that match. That would explain things. Diarrhea is no fun. You’ve got to keep some Immodium on hand, just in case.
I’m going to start eating the Halloween chocolate now. I need it more than the kids. I’ll hand out toothbrushes to trick-or-treaters instead so everyone’ll think I’m a dentist. Or shuriken! Then they’ll think I’m a ninja.