My Dearest Eleanor,
I write you this correspondence before we depart the fare city of Philadelphia. The sweltering heat claimed many victims on this fateful day; however, the United States Men’s National Team has survived another round of this frightful competition. General Bruce Arena led his men to a successful 2-0 victory over El Salvador.
As I prepared my Earthly body for this tumultuous encounter, I asked myself and our Heavenly Father the question that was on the mind of every man, woman, and child: Where, oh where, is God’s gift to us and our once proud hero Jonathan Bornstein? Even without him here, we must soldier on for a better future.
It must be said, my dear, that I do hope our children never bear witness to kinds of violence that was on display on this brutal day. I believe the Salvadoran defenders employed tactics that many civilized people would declare to be unbecoming of professionals. At one point, Josmer Altidore was the victim of a vicious titty twister (or a purple nurple, if you’re nasty) and was also bitten! What kind of heathen bites a man?
The Americans scored first when Omar Gonzalez, a giant of a man, shrugged off a much smaller defender to smash the ball into the back of the netting. The keeper of goals from El Salvador, did his absolute best. However, the ball was quickly traveling, and he was unable to keep it out.
Before the officiating man could blow his whistle to stop the first part of the game, Eric Lichaj, quite frankly, surprised everybody. Clinton Dempsey spun like a top and passed the ball to Lichaj. Then, Eleanor, I swear that boy kicked the ball between the keeper of goals legs for a point! It was incredible.
Still, it must be said that not everything was great for the Americans. The defense was again not up to our lofty standards. In particular, one man named Matthew Hedges certainly struggled to maintain his composure and failed to connect some modest passes out of the back. One day, Geoffrey Cameron will return and bless us with his presence. At this time, he remains fastidiously investigating a thing he refers to as “Benghazi”. I fail to believe that he knows that which he speaks.
I shan’t believe in a world for our young Caroline and ever-ill Bartholomew where the United States loses to El Salvador. Today, we have staved off that fearful future. For now, we will march from filthy Philadelphia down to dirty Dallas. There, a new competitor will arise in the form of Costa Rica. It will take more to find victory on Saturday, but I do believe that we have the power on our side.
Fare the well, my dearest Eleanor. We will be together once again in the near future.
Your loving husband,
Phillip Hiram Weatherington Weatherby