Caught in Possession

Good g*d, it is hot.

Lately I feel like I am reminded of summer's slow fade nearly every moment of the day, with days getting shorter and nights growing cooler. As a devoted warm-weather junkie, this pains me.

But here in the RFK press box it's utterly still (for some incomprehensible reason, all the wall fans were removed when the Nationals moved into the building, even as the baseball press box got A/C, comfy chairs and various other perks), and with all the heat in the stadium's lower bowl percolating up towards the rafters this rickety box clings to, the air is every bit as stifling as you could imagine. There's one portable fan on match nights, but somehow it always winds up being trained right at the DC United PR department.

It's mid-September, and thus it is supposed to be getting cooler around here. United is supposed to be easing into the stretch run with MLS playoffs barely a month off. United is also supposed to be eagerly diving into CONCACAF Champions League right now, with their bevy of slick South Americans leading a squad built for international success. The front office probably also reckoned that yet another Supporters' Shield would be within reach at this point.

But Sunday's forecast calls for a high of 98 degrees, and United is limping their way into a murderous month of constant matches and long-distance travel, ravaged by a destabilizing injury bug that simply won't go away (and those slick South Americans are the most painful casualties), and the team is clinging to fifth place in the Eastern Conference, treading water on the very edge of the playoff picture, and...and...

Why not blow a lead at home and drop two priceless points while you're at it?

It IS getting hot in here.