You Thought March Madness Was Tough

Day One:

When I told my friends that I was going to spend the bulk of my basketball-viewing hours this weekend in Tukwila, watching the Seattle Sounders open tryouts, they looked at me like I was crazy. The greatest 96 hours of sports, and you’re going to go cover a bunch of dudes with slim to no chance of making the team? Your loss, buddy. But I like soccer, and I really like tryouts. March Madness is amazing, but it’s tough to beat the drama of dozens of guys battling it out for one uniform.

I’m exaggerating, but not by much. The Sounders have about eight open roster positions, but most, if not all, will be filled with free agents. Anyone who made it out of the open tryout earned himself a spot in this week’s invitation-only “college week,” another tryout against players with collegiate soccer pedigrees. Basically, not many players from the open tryouts ever make it to training camp.

But the odds don’t seem to deter people. The club held an open tryout in February that netted 60 or so hopefuls and yielded two guys who were invited back, which is about par for the course with these things.

This weekend, 120 guys showed up at the Starfire soccer complex on Saturday afternoon. I met Tim Murangar as he got off the route 150 bus. He’s 30, a native of Zimbabwe (“It’s getting pretty crazy there,” he said. “My dad’s a politician so he’s often on the wrong side of the stick. I worry, but that’s what he wants to do”), and had flown in from Columbus, OH, for the tryout. He attended an open tryout with the Columbus Crew of Major League Soccer and was told that he needed “more constant soccer."

If you don’t remember the weather on Saturday, it sucked. The rain never really let up all afternoon. My notebook got soaked pretty much right away, and the pages are now all crispy and warped, like dollar bills after you forgot to take your wallet out of your pants before you washed them. After about an hour, I started fantasizing about a hot shower, dry clothes, a couch, potato chips, and the Butler-Maryland game, like a reverse desert oasis. Anyway, Starfire’s got that snazzy FieldTurf stuff, which drains like a dream, so the players didn’t seem particularly perturbed by the conditions.

Each of the 120 guys (including eight goalkeepers) trying out paid either $75 or $100 for the privilege. They huddled under an awning, waiting, gearing up, and peppering the front office staff with nervous questions: “Do you know what we’ll start with?” “What shoes will I need?” “Is there going to be a timed run?” When the rain let up, some went onto the field to juggle or kick around.

Bobby Benson stood with his mom, Donna. They’d left their house in Port Townsend at 9 a.m. to make the tryout. Benson, 18, played soccer for his high school team. “This is the first really high level team I’ve tried out for,” he said. “But I want to continue soccer. I’m hoping to get on the team.”

Stephen Sugar, 23, from Austin, TX, and Andrew Fox, 22, from Renton, waited on the field. This was the second time they’d tried out. Neither played college soccer (“I went to home college,” Fox said with a smile) though both have international soccer experience. Sugar’s club in Texas played the El Salvador U17 team to a 3-3 draw (Sugar scored a goal). Fox played for a U19 USA team in Aruba for a tournament called the “Tropical Cup.” “We did alright,” he said. “As well as you could for throwing a team together.”

“I’m just here to have fun and give it my best,” Fox said. “You can’t have too many expectations, because you’ll be disappointed. I actually haven’t thought about what I’d do if I made it. Probably scream like a little girl.”

Yuriy Kuchryaryy, 22, leaned against the wall as he changed into silver Pumas. He and three of his buddies drove in from Pasco. Why was he there? “I love soccer too much,” he said. Then he smiled and added, “And I want a good career.” His friends cracked up laughing.

There were guys from all over the U.S. there, including Alaska, as well as a handful of players from England and Canada. Apparently, lot of guys will find out when all the USL teams’ tryouts are and then just make the circuit. The ages ranged from 17 to 40, and the experience (at least according to the players themselves) ranged from high school ball to the Chicago Fire reserve team. One guy wrote that he played on the Botswana national team. Another wrote “Boise State University,” though Boise State doesn’t have a men’s soccer team. I was told guys sometimes stretch the truth a little, like someone will go over and train with a national U15 team and neglect to distinguish that from the senior national team.

From my very non-scientific perusal of USL rosters, most of the players in the league seem to have played fairly high level college soccer. There are also a good number of players with MLS experience. In short, if you listed “Rec Team” as your playing experience, as one guy did, you were probably in over your head.

In any case, there’s only so much you can tell from a player’s printed resume. Last time around, the coaches were excited about seeing the “tallest player in the J-League.” He turned out to be about six-foot-one and terrible in the air.  

After a 20 minute warm up, the coaching staff, led by head coach Brian Schmetzer, gathered the players. “Here’s what I’m looking for,” Schmetzer began. “I look for consistent technical ability under pressure.”

“Are you serious about making my team, or are you just out here to play good soccer for the weekend?” he continued. “Also, I want everyone on their feet. I won’t be impressed if you’re just going at each other. We don’t want anybody hurt.”

“Because of the numbers, I’m going to have to let some guys go today. The best 25 will play 11 against 11 for 70 minutes at the end of tomorrow. If you’re not comfortable with what you see or hear, you’re free to go over there and get your money back.”

No one took Schmetzer up on the offer. Schmetzer then reminded the players that guys have come out of these tryouts before, such as Zach Scott, the starting center back for the Sounders.

Once the players start warming up, you could tell right away who wasn’t going to make it to Sunday. One keeper had trouble even drop kicking the ball to his partner or catching balls kicked directly at him. His inability to properly execute basic soccer skills only got his partner even more steamed. By the end of the warmup, his partner was kicking the ball at him as hard as he could.

I started wondering what compelled so many guys to functionally pay $100 to play a couple hours of soccer. They weren't even allowed to keep their red or blue numbered pinnies. But if you play competitive sports, you’re indoctrinated in the whole gotta-be-in-it-to-win-it mentality. I tried out for my college tennis team four times, so I know what it’s like to be a stubborn dreamer. But I also know the relief of surviving a cut, and the expansive sense of weightlessness when you get that phone call from coach, telling you when to show up for practice. And I guess it’s a thrill to be associated with a professional team in any capacity. At the very least, you can say you went for it.

After the warm-up, the players were broken up into short-sided games on five fields, each supervised by a coach or evaluator. The quality reminded me of a good men’s league game, or maybe a university club soccer team. “It’s difficult to get all the information required for 100 people in three hours,” Schmetzer said as he watched. “It’s always easy to see the negative, the guys who can’t play. So you cross off the first 50 who absolutely can’t play. The challenge will be tomorrow, when the players can all play.”

I asked him what he looked for.

“That guy over there, number 90 in blue, I saw a nice little stepover, a fluid move,” he said, pointing. “He runs well. I put a mark next to his name, and he’ll come back tomorrow.”

And what about any of these guys actually sticking with the team?

“Zach Scott, we found him in the open tryout my first year,” Schmetzer said. “Since then it’s been slim pickings.”

Schmetzer made a note on his clipboard and walked away. I looked for the guy he’d pointed out, but didn’t see him. There was a number 50 who looked and moved like a soccer player, but no 90. In fact, according to the roster I was given, there wasn’t anyone with the number 90 trying out. Hopefully the right guy was invited back.

The players rotated through the fields. I ran into Ronal Marin, 27, videotaping his brother, Guillermo, 25, a thick-legged midfielder with a penchant for the lookaway pass. They work in drywall construction in Texas. “We moved from El Salvador to the US five looking for the American dream,” Ronal said. “We come here five years ago, and have been traveling the US trying out for soccer ever since.”

Really? For soccer?

“Of course. Not for fun. Because when you travel, you spend money.”

The Marins have criss-crossed the country for tryouts in Miami, Los Angeles, and Columbus. Ronal sends videos of his brother to European teams. So far, they haven’t gotten any bites. “I think American teams, they are playing with their dreams,” Ronal said, nodding toward the field. “Because everyone has dreams. They have movies like Invincible, The Rookie, those movies are good for them, so they say, ‘if they got it, then maybe me.’”

“Our mother, she doesn’t support us,” Ronal continued. “She says, ‘Why are you spending your money? You’re not going to work, too?!’ We don’t get it. We don’t do drugs, don’t drink, we don’t do bad things. We need her support. We just want to play soccer. People tell us, he’s getting older, he’s now 25, you have to quit doing this. But when God wants something to happen to our lives, then we’ll stop.”

And what if Guillermo makes the team?

Ronal smiled, as if he hadn’t yet considered it. “Here? Wow. Then we’ll say a big prayer to God. We’ll send more video to Europe to the big clubs.”

Sort of like a real life Goal!, I said. (Goal! is a movie about a fictional young Mexican-American line cook who, through a convoluted series of breaks that would generously be described as improbable, earns a spot on—if there is any more disbelief to be suspended—Newcastle United of the English Premier League. Read a review I wrote here).

“Yes,” Ronal said, nodding vigorously. “But a true story. I know there are people like us here, moving from another country, looking for a dream. We’re not the only ones. We thought, we have to move to the US, because it’s the land of opportunity. So why not for soccer?”

Around 6 p.m., the coaches convened the players in the center circle. “Thank you all for your effort,” Schmetzer told them. “You did solid work. The way it worked, was if you had three strikes against you, you were done.”

In all, 65 players made the first cut, which Schmetzer rattled off before the group. “That’s the list, gentlemen,” he said. “Unfortunately, some of you have to go, that’s the reality in this sport. Good luck with your soccer endeavors, wherever they may go.”

The guys clapped, shook hands, and congratulated each other. Benson didn’t make it. Neither did Murangar or Kucheryaryy. Fox and Sugar made it, as did Marin.

On the way out, I ran into OK Gordon, 25, who was walking back to his hotel. He said he played pro ball in his native Jamaica and had came up from Orange County to try out. He walked with such a bounce in his step that I was sure he’d made it. He hadn’t. “I think what got me was I took a couple people out,” he said. “It wasn’t intentional, but I guess the three strikes got me. I’m just going to keep trying.”

And then he broke into a jog, cutting through the drizzle.

(Check back in a bit for day two of tryouts)

Topics: Futbol

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