The Gift of the Magi, by T. Henry
Five-hundred and fifty thousand dollars. That was all. And thirty grand of it was in unmarked hundreds. Money saved game after game, play after play. Freddy had Richard Motzkin count it at least three times. Soon it would be Christmas.
There was nothing for it but to scream, which Freddy did. He stood at his window and watched as the rain soaked the streets of DC. A battered BMW rested in the driveway. Soon it would be Christmas, but all the money in the world wouldn't be enough to find the right present. Many-an-hour he had spent visualizing the perfect gift for Peter in his head. Goals of staggering beauy when he would take the ball on one touch, maneuver around Jay Heaps and slide the ball neatly by Matt Reis beyond the far post. A goal worthy of his coach. But the season had not rewarded him -- the cool, imperious woodwork had denied him too often.
He called his agent Richard. "Will Salt Lake buy my contract?"
Motzkin's tone expressed the neat calculations he could perform in his head. "I can make Ellinger buy anything."
"Do it quick." The next hours dragged on like Clint Mathis trying to take someone on the dribble. He made his way to RFK, the faxed contract in his hand. Peter might laugh at him. "Why do you want to go to that hospital?" he might say. But Freddy felt it was the only way, and he sat in the conference room outside Kevin Payne's office.
Peter stepped inside the door, as immovable as Tony Meola at the near post. His eyes were fixed upon the faxed contract, and there was an expression in them that Freddy could not read, and it terrified him. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that he had been prepared for. He simply stared at him fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.
"Peter," Freddy said, "Don't look at me that way. I arranged a trade to Salt Lake for you for Christmas. I know I've been a pain, and a source of frustration. It was the only thing I could think of for you. Now you don't have to worry about me being a distraction anymore."
Peter stared at the contract, his stupor slowing lifting. He pulled out a cigarette, struck a match off his chin, and took a deep drag. "Freddy," he sighed, "it has been a long three years. But I felt that somehow I was to blame. Perhaps I was too hard on you, or standing in your way, or something. I just told Kevin that I'm resigning from DC, and I'll be going to work for Bob Bradley with the US Men's Team." He smiled. "Put your contract away, it will be long after Christmas before we know how either of us did with our presents."
The magi, as you know, were wise men--wonderfully wise men--who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi. But even such as they are clueless about what to do with that franchise in New Jersey.
Labels: Freddy Adu, Piotr Nowak



He is also DC United's most successful (in terms of Games Played) draft pick since '99. Really. I know, he only played about twenty games in the black and red, and not a one since 2000. That being said, he has survived as a journeyman in Columbus and Colorado racking up 160GP to date. Your initial reaction may be to say "Well, that just shows how useless GP is in evaluating worth." I disagree. DC United picked a guy in the second round who has managed to hang around the league for a long time, contributing to many games. In short, DC picked a guy who's made a number of contributions. Similarly, Jason Moore is #5 on the DC United longevity list, despite playing little for DC. Does that mean he wasn't a real value pick? I doubt it, since we traded him, I think, for the draft pick that led to Ryan Nelsen. Not too bad. While GP may not indicate how much or intense of an impact a player made, it can certainly identify whether an impact was made at all, and if so, for how long.

specifically the UK Press, and their associated comment sites and message boards, you can see many examples of someone from, say, "St. Louis, MO" referring to the EPL and promptly having a slew of people from London, Swindon, et al yelling about "American ignorance" for not referring to England's top league as either the "Premiership", "FA Premier League", or the "Barclay's Premiership." Okay, they don't really insist on the last term, but the point remains that somehow referring to the top-flight English league as the EPL is verboten. It is silly and hypocritical for anyone in England to object to the use of EPL by a Yank.

