It has long been a subject of fascination that the United States,

virtually alone in the world, has rejected soccer. Andrei S.

Markovits and Steven L. Hellerman, who have written a book called

Offside: Soccer & American Exceptionalism (Princeton University

Press), compare this phenomenon with another, more significant

"American exceptionalism"--the fact that the U.S. has never

embraced socialism. Messrs. Markovits and Hellerman even provide,

on two pages, a cogent catalog of reasons why socialism hasn't

found acceptance here. Unfortunately, in the next couple hundred

pages, they don't explain nearly as well why we don't give a hoot

about soccer.

Oh, Markovits and Hellerman do a fine job of laying out how

soccer missed the boat when baseball and football were

establishing their hegemony here. Soccer did not get itself into

schools and colleges. The sport's American organization, such as

it was, proved to be inept. Soccer was stigmatized as a foreign

game. Once it failed to find room in the U.S. "sport space"

(schedules, newspaper coverage, etc.), its also-ran fate was

sealed.

The difficulties soccer faced here in its early years, however,

don't begin to explain its current plight. Baseball, after all,

has never been run by a Pericles, yet it prospered from the

start. Basketball was largely played by immigrants but outgrew

this stigma. Ice hockey didn't really exist here till half a

century after soccer had arrived, yet hockey became the half in

what the authors refer to, very nicely, as the "Big Three and

One-Half" of American team sports. So we must come back to the

seminal possibility the authors avoid: Soccer simply may be

antithetical to the U.S. temperament and sensibility. It is not

for us to feel guilty that we are out of step. Rather, it is for

us to feel sorry for the rest of the world that it is not lucky

enough to have games as good as the ones we have.

After all, the authors ignore perhaps our greatest distinction.

We don't import culture. The only two major foreign items America

has accepted recently are water in bottles and the Wonder Bra,

and these both relate to modern life's essentials--water and

cleavage being as vital to our society as food and shelter. No,

what we Americans do is we pass along our stuff to other,

impressionable peoples: movies, music, Coca-Cola, the English

language, basketball, bacon double cheeseburgers and what have

you.

For goodness' sake, though, soccer has had even more chances here

than Hillary gave Bill. We are, to start with, chock-full of

immigrants who grew up in countries in which the game is adored.

Huge sums have been invested in a succession of professional

leagues that have received inordinate amounts of Pollyanna

publicity. Pele was brought here to troop the futbol colors. The

authors detail, at length, how many American children now play

soccer. (Yes, soccer is terrific exercise, almost as good as tai

chi--and nobody wants to pay to see that, either.)

See, there's the rub. If soccer had never had an opportunity

here, one could argue that its time must surely come. But soccer

has been jammed down our throats--and found wanting. The leagues

fray, the TV ratings barely gurgle, and soccer kids can't wait

for soccer moms to pick them up at practice so they can go home

and watch true-blue 'Mercan games. (Participation never equates

to spectator popularity, anyway. Twice as many high school kids

are on track and cross-country teams as play soccer, and the last

time I looked, Yankee Stadium wasn't packed for a track meet.)

Desperately, soccer smug-nuts always fall back on accusing us

American yahoos of failing to appreciate the grace and nuance of

their superior game. First of all, any sport in which you hit a

hard ball with your head is, ipso facto, neither graceful nor

nuanced. Even ignoring that ugly idiosyncrasy, any

run-of-the-mill 6-4-3 double play is more graceful than the most

precious soccer maneuver. And nuance? For pete's sake, every

sport has nuance. Hello. That's why Tim McCarver, John Madden and

Mary Carillo have jobs. Nuance doesn't make people care. About

99.44% of NFL fans don't have the foggiest what nuances the

nickel defense possesses. So what? It's third and three on the

36. Turn up the volume and crack another brewski.

The authors also make a big deal out of how many Americans saw

the World Cup when it was foisted on the United States in 1994.

That argument is specious too. The World Cup has no more to do

with ordinary soccer than the Kentucky Derby has to do with

Wednesday at Suffolk Downs when 4,500 grizzled septuagenarians

drag in off the streets to box exactas. Markovits and Hellerman

also salivate over the Women's World Cup of 1999, when the U.S.

beat China, 0-0, at the Rose Bowl. The 90,000 attendance is

stressed. What is not dealt with is the score, of which there was

none--excuse me: nil--till we got to the pinball finale.

Why do you think the only image we have of that game is of Brandi

Chastain ripping off her shirt? Because there was nothing in the

game to remember. Sports authors, beware: Don't read too much

into one-shot anomalies. The 1980 victory of the U.S. hockey

darlings over the big, bad Commie bullies is, surely, the most

lionized American game ever. It did nothing whatsoever for hockey

(though it did make Mike Eruzione the Brandi Chastain of 1980).

So soccer has been around these colonial precincts for something

like 125 years. It has had its game of the century. It has

borrowed the player of the century. It has been spoon-fed the

globe's biggest tournament. It has had league after league,

outdoor and in, bankrolled by well-heeled angels. It is blessed

with legions of ready-made fans who immigrate here and millions

of suburban children who are indoctrinated from kindergarten on.

Still, it never catches on.

At a certain point, Markovits and Hellerman, you have to accept

the obvious. It ain't our cup of tea. Nothing wrong with that.

There's no accounting for taste. The same British sophisticates

who call me a parochial rube for not appreciating soccer prefer

watching snooker to basketball. Fine. But here's the nasty

down-home American reality: Far from being graceful, soccer

appears, in fact, awkward. You can't sweetly control a ball using

feet and head any more than you can drive a car fast with your

nose and knees. We value efficiency in the United States. Soccer

is inefficient.

Remarkably, Markovits and Hellerman don't offer an in-depth

analysis of how other American sports overcame integral problems

of tedium. Football added the forward pass. Baseball souped up

the old horsehide. Basketball introduced a shot clock. Soccer

says bugger off, barbarians, and learn grace and nuance. We

prefer offense in the United States. Soccer is defensive.

It is not only that soccer lacks scoring, either. It also has no

small victories, no cumulative successes. Baseball teams build

rallies. Football teams drive down the field, even if they have

to settle for a field goal. Soccer is the coitus interruptus of

sport. Watching TV, I'm astounded how announcers ooh and ahh over

some failed play: "What a magnificent run!" Only the player did

not succeed. In the end, the ball was taken from him and he

stumbled back the other way. Nonetheless, analysts keep praising

pretty disappointment, raving about the glory of almost. We

expect satisfaction in the United States. Soccer celebrates

frustration.

Soccer developed outside the U.S., and unlike most everything

else in the world, it lacks our influence. In countries that

care about soccer, the point is always made, ad nauseum, that

soccer is not a game; it is a way of life. I'm sure that's true.

That's the point that eludes Markovits and Hellerman.

Ultimately, the reason that we don't care about soccer is that

it is un-American. It's somebody else's way of life. So most

American kids abandon interest in the game when they realize

it's not consistent with what they are finding out about

Americanism. The same with immigrants and their children--as

soon as they discover more appealing games that reflect American

spirit, American values. It's really very simple why most of us

nonsocialistic Americans will forever reject soccer.

We are not amused.

COLOR PHOTO: CORBIS

COLOR PHOTO: JERRY COOKE (PELE) Not even the heroics of Pele (left) or Chastain could fuel an American passion for soccer.

COLOR PHOTO: JOHN W. MCDONOUGH [See caption above]

Soccer is terrific exercise, almost as good as tai chi--and nobody

wants to pay to see that, either.