Lending Support to the Red Devils

It was eerie to see Manchester United sport their usual AIG-sponsored jerseys at this week's Champions League match against Villareal. Manchester United (nickname: Red Devils) played a great draw, bore the seal of failure on their illustrious chests, and lost no irony with the fact that their club owner since 2005 is, like AIG, a debt-jockeying American.

On September 12 the New York Times printed a business column on the question, Why are American moguls investing in the English Premier League? The sad, sad answer:

Mainly because, to a surprising degree, they can act far more like old-fashioned two-fisted capitalists in England than they can in the United States. Go figure.

The financial meltdown only adds to a much-deserved reputation in the soccer world of Americans as debt-fixated. If you aren't averse to debt, what would stop you from buying up more and owning more? What can you do if you're holding a bottomless bag of gold that must be repaid? Let's look at what Adelbert von Chamisso's Peter Schlemihl did.

My favorite story from the German romantics, Peter Schlemihls wundersame Geschichte, 1813, is a socially critical “fairy tale” and the genesis for a really awesome descriptive noun, schlemiel, which persists today in Yiddish as the word for sucker, dupe, or gull. In Chamisso's tale, Schlemihl sells his shadow to a gray man in exchange for a purse of gold that never empties. It seems like a great deal to Schlemihl until he's reviled and outcast as a shadowless freak. The gray man turns out to be the devil, who tempts Schlemihl with the return of his shadow in exchange for his soul. The only way Schlemihl can get rid of the devil is to wise up and remain a freak. He becomes a lonely researcher and tosses the purse into a ditch, thereby ridding himself of the persistent gray man. It's a great story. And I've left out so much.

With all the money being poured into top-flight soccer, one wonders if fans will someday reject bottomless gold purses and pull for the small, local club instead. For that, the lower leagues and their bric-a-brac grounds are an alternative worth considering. But that's not without temptation, because teams with devilish talent like Manchester United are just so fun to watch.

All about the Chemistry

The transfer window at most international leagues closes in a week and there's a lot of talk about chemistry and loyalty. Should X leave team Y and take a job at Z? Between Y and Z, where is the better chemistry? There is a pledge to pursue “winning chemistry” at the Aussie A-League's new Gold Coast club franchised by yet another soccer billionaire. Credit was given to coach Pia Sundhage for creating “chemistry off the field” when the U.S. Women defended their gold medal at the Beijing Olympics. And it was due to his “negative effect on team chemistry” when Van Nistlerooy was kicked out of Manchester United's hotel by Sir Alex Ferguson back in '06.

In Goethe's 1809 novel Die Wahlverwandtschaften, Eduard and Charlotte are a married couple dealing with temptation. Each feels better chemistry with another; in Charlotte's case it's the dashing Captain and in Eduard's case it's the young Ottilie.

One day the four have a conversation about elective relationships among chemical compounds. The Captain explains that such opposites as acids and alkalis exhibit a mutual attraction – a tendency to “choose” each other – while Eduard insists that the mixing of compounds is most interesting when this results in a “divorce” and a “crosswise” reunion, so that the mixing of AB + CD results in the new compounds AD + BC. Limestone placed in dilute sulphuric acid is turned into gypsum, and the unstable acid known as carbonic acid evaporates in the form of carbon dioxide and may or may not succeed in finding a new partner. Charlotte finds it a sad commentary that chemists used to be known as “Scheidekünstler” (masters of separation). What is most in need everywhere are “Einungskünstler” (masters of unification). In any case, persons interact at a level above that of the elements. Or do they? Do players really ever switch teams because of the prospect of better chemistry elsewhere? Or isn't it really just about the money?

The English title for Die Wahlverwandtschaften is Elective Affinities, a term the field of chemistry borrows from the social sphere, which in turn was borrowed back by Goethe for his novel. It's a story about adultery, but whether or not it's an adulterous story is Goethe's little twist. Read it and find out.

Soccer Diplomacy, Meet Jousting Diplomacy

The U.S. Men's National Team plays a World Cup qualifier in Havana, the first time the U.S. team has been to Cuba since 1947. Today's game is special to me for two reasons. First, I need the U.S. MNT to qualify so I can buy a discounted follow-your-team ticket at the 2010 World Cup in South Africa and, second, my parents are from Cuba and I'm Cuban American. The broader reason why the game is special is that both countries are baseball countries, yet they'll be meeting today at a soccer match. Soccer is a sport both general populations know little about.

Despite sharing baseball as a national pastime, a national U.S. baseball team hasn't been to Cuba since the revolution. “Baseball diplomacy” never happened, though the potential has been there. (For non-American readers: The United States has had a trade and tourism embargo against Cuba since Castro's alignment with Krushchev forty-six years ago. But you, dear non-American reader, get to go as you please, drink Havana Club rum, and smoke a Cohiba without reproach. Vale entonce, as we say in the diaspora.)

In the Middle Ages a form of sports diplomacy punctuated the politics and intrigue of daily life. It was a great festival, known in Middle High German as hôchgezíte. Notice the word's resemblance to the New High German word for wedding, Hochzeit. Knights from different territories and families accepted invitations to compete against each other in games, sports, and poetry competitions.

In the Nibelungenlied, a collection of 39 books from the 12th century about the sword-wielding Lady Kriemhild, a sports festival honors the dubbing of Siegfried as knight. It's the first festival scene in the Nibelungenlied and the last in which all participants are at peace with one another. Happiness-to-grief is a running motif.

“mit leide was verendet | des Küniges hôchgezíte”

Here's hoping today's soccer diplomacy doesn't foreshadow more grief between the two countries. There are some tough times ahead for Cuban and American relations, if past examples are any indication. The activist in me would love to see the embargo lifted and relations normalized. The philosopher in me doesn't mind the embargo, because lifting it will mean a Starbucks on every corner, hordes of tourists, and aggressive neocolonial business dealings. Therefore, here's to the Nibelungenlied – with its mix of emotional sensitivity and martial brutality – it makes for propaedeutic reading in uncertain times.