Reusse: Once we fight past soccer oddities, we see much to like about Minnesota United

There was a noble effort by a senior citizen from the boondocks of southwestern Minnesota finally to get on the soccer bandwagon as the Twin Cities was about to add an MLS franchise to our full menu of big-league franchises.

There was some delight in the fact the group headed by Bill McGuire was the official bidder and not Zygi Wilf and the Vikings, what with the possibility they would have demanded seat license fees from futbol loyalists as they did with the successful ripoff of football ticket holders.

The official announcement came Aug. 19, 2016, in a gathering at CHS Field in St. Paul. This was months after Betsy Hodges, as mayor of Minneapolis, had rejected McGuire’s original plan to build a soccer stadium not far from Target Field.

And after all, why give a few tax breaks to a privately funded 20,000-seat stadium that regularly would bring a vibrant and young audience to downtown Minneapolis when there were more bike lanes to be carved from the city’s passageways?

St. Paul Mayor Chris Coleman seized on the opening created by Bike Lane Betsy and reached a deal with McGuire to build the soccer stadium in the Midway area, next to Interstate 94.

Now, on this cloudy late afternoon, the tenant needed for such a stadium — an MLS team — was being announced. Many of the 1,500 gathered on the grass of the Saints’ ballpark were holdovers from the team playing at lower levels in Blaine.

They let out a cheer when McGuire announced the MLS had agreed to allow Minnesota United FC to continue as the team’s title, even though the league already had a couple of Uniteds.

The nickname “Loons” already existed as the unofficial nickname, which became a blessing for those of us stumped by the formal titles that soccer clubs carry worldwide.

We forgot such small complaints on this day and joined in the celebration: back slaps for Mayor Coleman and my soccer guru Bruce McGuire, a hearty handshake for a Lagos or two, a few stories from older attendees recalling their indoctrination to big-league soccer at Met Stadium in 1970s.

The Kicks. Thousands of underage consumers required to make sure they knew which team had won as they wobbled quickly past their parents on arrival home from a Kicks game.

This would be different. A stadium created with splendid views of soccer maneuvers — some rapid, some killing time.

Yes, I had great hope to become a soccer aficionado on that happy day 8½ years ago in St. Paul’s Lowertown. And as impressive though it was when Allianz Field opened in 2019 as another first-class venue for the Twin Cities, and as impressive as has been ownership’s ever-increasing budget for its futbol operation, I find myself completely confused as our Loons are about to open their ninth MLS season Saturday afternoon at the Los Angeles Football Club.

Why does MLS' season end with a title game on Dec. 7 and the players are expected back in “training” in mid-January? For that matter, why is it called training and not practice?

Why are we starting a 34-game schedule now, with a home opener scheduled on March 1? The projected high for that afternoon is 24 degrees and these are men wearing shorts.

These are also men from Africa and South America, where 24 degrees isn’t the norm to be at full dexterity for 90-plus minutes of exercise.

Most of all, what is with these ridiculous, alphabet-filled “international breaks” in the schedule? World Cup qualifier — or the World Cup itself — that’s OK. The rest of ‘em are just needless money grabs by something comically called CONCACAF (or other alphabet soups).

Last season, because of the idiotic delays in the schedule, the Loons won a first-round playoff series in October, then didn’t play again for three weeks.

This is the United States of America. We don’t interrupt our playoffs for three weeks.

Yet, those know-it-alls from FIFA (the international soccer federation in Zurich) order a November break and MLS won’t tell ‘em to take a hike.

“We have never denied a player a chance to play an international game — even an exhibition — for his country," a Loons employee said.

I say, “Try it. You’ll like it.”

Our Loons now are spending five times as much on players, staff, development, scouting, charter traveling, etc. as in their first season. They have done that while paying for their stadium.

They now have a forceful soccer leader in Khaled El-Ahmad, a dynamic young coach in Eric Ramsay and players from six continents, including two or three athletes I could name right off the bat.

So, go Loons — except during international breaks that interrupt the schedule on FIFA’s command.

Hmmm. Taking orders from Europe. Is the guy now running things in Washington, D.C., aware of this?