soccer lost a good one

In my short time as a manager (oh and we can't forget front desk worker) at the George Mason Field House I had the opportunity to carry on random soccer conversations with one of the most important figures in the sport that this country has ever seen. Not a bad bonus for somebody just trying to make a few extra bucks during college summer breaks.

I am of course talking about Gordon Bradley. Gordon passed away yesterday after having battled against Alzheimer's for years. I hope him and his family will soon find peace.

Now you can read all about his accomplishments in any of the normal papers so I would like to just share a few of my favorite memories about the legendary coach:

4) After getting kind of worried about the US team's ability to qualify for the 2002 World Cup because of their poor start with qualifying, Gordon was overly optimistic about their chances and spent some time explaining to me how incredibly insane it is down in places like Guatemala and Costa Rica during these matches. Pretty cool when you can get a living legend to spend some time going over world cup soccer playing conditions with you while you are getting paid.

3) Working out at Mason only to look across the weight room in pure amazement at how freaking strong a 65 year old man could be. Gordon would play racquetball for hours and then just lift weights like it was no big deal. Pretty normal for somebody in their mid to upper 60's.

2) After having watched a DC United away game vs San Jose the night before, I was working the early shift at the Front Desk (btw easily the worst job at the Field House but that is for another blog). Who shows up a lot earlier than you would expect? The soccer color commentator from Home Team Sports - Gordon. I mean did that crazy old man take the red eye or something? Wow.

1) A few indoor soccer balls had become stuck in the batting cage nets after they had been raised for basketball camp. Jesse and I were trying to knock them down with other soccer balls when Gordon came out of one of the racquetball courts. He came over to help us in our efforts in knocking them down. We got down to this one ball that was really in there pretty good when I finally got it out. Gordon started to laugh and called me quite a "hotshot" in his thick British accent. He called me that a few more times during the week and the joke kinda stuck. And by kinda stuck I mean that Jesse and I still use it every once in awhile.

I am glad I had the chance to get to know him, even if it was very, very minimal...