Why Julie Foudy is ruining sports

Euro 2008 is in full swing, and as a former high school soccer benchwarmer and consequent expert on the sport, I am glued to ESPN2 every afternoon. To a greater extent, though, I am also a connoisseur of sports commentary. Having made the transition from watching soccer in a uniform on the bench to my underwear on the couch with a beer and a sandwich, I see a wide spectrum of quality in commentary ranging from exemplary (Derek Rae and Adrian Healey's Champions League coverage) to piss-poor (any NFL broadcast not including Jim Nantz and Phil Simms).

I'm past the age where summer means lazy days in the sun, but I still look forward to it for one reason: I get to watch soccer. Living in America, it's hard to find soccer on TV, and when I do it's usually MLS (which I'm sad to say is nowhere near as entertaining as the prestigious European leagues). But once the weather gets warm, that means it's Champions League time--the one time of the year when there's quality soccer to be seen without paying exorbitant prices for obscure satellite TV packages. And in even-numbered years there's international soccer to be seen, be it the Euro Championships or World Cup. Not only does the sport satisfy my appetite for the "beautiful game" which continues to grow even though I no longer play competitively, but it generally offers some respite from the in-your-face, hyper-commercial American sports arena. Subtlety reigns supreme in soccer, and good commentators (specifically those from Europe, where subtlety is still appreciated) tend to let the game speak for itself. I admire that respect for the game. It's refreshing, especially in the middle of the NBA finals where Mark Jackson and Jeff Van Gundy spent more time last night wisecraking and ballbreaking than actually commenting on the game. The focus should be on the game. The voices I hear should involve me in the game, not distract me from it.

That's why I hate Julie Foudy.

Foudy is a poor commentator who falls back on her underdeveloped sense of humor to fill her air time. When paired with real, game-focused commentators like Andy Gray it makes for uncomfortable moments--and poor coverage of the game. Rather than watching Julie Foudy and her distracting facial moles tell stupid jokes about France not being able to score any goals, I find myself losing interest and turning away from the coverage in favor of late-90's sitcom reruns on TBS, leaving me wishing someone would Just Shoot Me instead.

It's not all Julie Foudy's fault, though. She was one of the best female soccer players in U.S. history, and she does deserve some respect for that. But the American media have embarked on a crusade to take all focus away from news stories themselves, and put it instead on "highly qualified" pundits whose experience in their respective fields has somehow earned them credentials to explain to us why Politician X is and unfit leader, or why Celebrity Y has gone of the deep end, or why Iggy and the Stooges don't have any of the 100 greatest guitar songs of all time. (Seriously? "Search and Destroy" will melt your face. And blow out your speakers. Whoops.)

Anyway, Julie Foudy managed to get a job behind the commentator's desk which she is in no way qualified for. She's one of the more recent in a long line of former sports stars who networks hire in order to attract viewers. But for those of us who were already planning to watch, it's discouraging and annoying. And that's saying something, because not many people in this world are so annoying that rather than listen to them, I would watch a sitcom starring David Spade.