MISL Title Series Class Production
by Tom Barnidge
Before getting started, let's establish one thing. Six hours is a lot of soccer to addle the brain. Indoors, outdoors or played on rooftops, that much soccer can give you a migraine.
Nonetheless, to the Major Indoor Soccer League's everlasting credit, Friday night's extravaganza was a remarkably smooth production. Uniquely staged. Well timed. Professionally run.
If you understand the event for what it is - entertainment - you can appreciate how far the league has come in only three years.
The championship series, staged at the CHeckerdome this year, attracted more than 16,000 spectators for Friday's semifinals. It's apt to draw even more for Sunday's finale. And those in attendance could see firsthand just how creative the MISL minds can be.
Overhead lights dimmed for player introductions and strobes flashed as the performers were introduced. Double-beacon spotlights zeroed in on each character as he raced to the middle of the floor.
With a disco beat thumping in the background and an announcer bellowing like the Wizard of Oz, the scene was reminiscent of a dinner show at Vegas. Reflex almost forced applause.
When the new York Arrows entered - amid boos, of course - they ran down a twinkling path of Christmas tree bulbs. One false step and they may have blown the whole strand. You'll never mistake this event for the Stanley Cup, understand, but it does have its own sort of charm. You could have heard the theme from "Rocky," "Ain't No Stopping Us Now" and other assorted musical works Friday night. You also could have heard firecrackers in the stands.
There have been rock concerts at the Checkerdome that provided less music and never approached this dimension of noise.
And this is not to overlook nine periods of soccer and eight overtime shootout attempts. All for the price of one ticket. The football Cardinals have gone entire seasons recently without offering so much excitement.
It's unfortunate that the Baltimore Blast took the occasion to catch up on lost sleep. They daydreamed through the first game, a 10-1 loss. They still may be asleep.
But no more than half the crowd attended that landslide. The seats didn't become filled until the St. Louis portion of the night.
The Steamers entered through their customary cumulus cloud that always forms at the south end of the floor. Applause cascaded like water at Niagara Falls. It did, anyway, until the team began playing as if it were still in that fog.
Not even the MISL, with all its preparation, can guarantee a crowd-pleasing performance. beyond music and announcers and special effects, the league has no control over what happens.
After all, this entire production is a new venture for these guys. The predetermined site and three-day package are innovations of 1981. Naturally, there were to be some disappointments, including a loose portion of carpet.
One of the niftiest pieces of footwork all night was performed by referee Bill Maxwell, who officiated the first game. When the artificial surface was kicked up and flapped back during a tussle in the second quarter, Maxwell didn't bat an eye. He kicked it back into place while watching the action, and avoided being trampled as well.
There were other minor distractions, too, thanks to the participation of the fans. They seemed to believe that the playing surface was in need of toilet paper. Toilet paper and trash.
Here's where you are remined of the infancy of the league. Of the innocence and cooperation of the players. They actually stooped over and cleaned up the debris that the morons tossed over the glass.
One roll of toilet paper was sent to the penalty box. Still more wound up tucked in the back of each goal. It's a curious sight, seeing a goaltender sacrificing his body with diving saves so his pile of toilet paper won't be touched by a ball. Such were the sights, along with an orange-clad Wings fan club, that were dizzying the mind Friday night. it was an unevent that won't soon be matched. A mulligan stew of sports, gimmicks and sidelights. It was, perhaps, the MISL's finest night.
And what better way to cap off the final act than with a successful rally by the hosts? A happy rally from five goals behind. Then, a shootout that would have made Matt Dillon proud, followed by joyous celebrations in the stands.
All in all, an intriguing affair. All it lacked was fireworks and cannons at the end. It certainly is like no other event that sportswriters are invited to attend.
However...one recommendation for the sake of next year's planners: Don't make it last six hours.
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