It must be the Field Turf™.
Because the only other explanation for that ball —THAT BALL — is magic.
Damn, son.
That is, quite simply, a hero-level throughball. With the run of play strongly in favor of the defending champions, such an impeccable peach as this didn't just come out of nowhere: it came straight out of another universe.
Not even Walter Sobchak could roll one like that.
Indeed, the unseen universal forces uniting matter and energy had to align in immaculate repose in order for this service, and the opening goal that followed, ever to manifest on our mortal plane:
- Before he gathered possession, RJ perpetrated an inadvertent handball.
- Since the above happened directly behind Darlington Nagbe's back, the referee had no angle to see it.
- RJ required rare vision to pick out David Villa's run up the left half in the first place.
- He had to muster up the sheer audacity even to attempt a fifty-yard (!!!) throughball.
- Villa needed to fight to keep Zarek Valentin on his shoulder and away from the ball.
- The finish, conducted with the graceful poise of a saint.
So, yeah, OK, there should have been a whistle for a handball. But does that non-call take even a single thing away from the stunning chance that Allen somehow managed to conjure up, presumably thanks to nuclear-level stockpiles of cosmic energy?Not one bit. And you'll never be able to convince me otherwise.In New York City FC's brief history, there have been some monster assists. Some real stunners, the kind that force you to acknowledge that the world – indeed, the universe – is far bigger and far more mysterious that a single mortal mind can comprehend.
My question is this: how does RJ's showstopper in Portland stack up against the finest assists ever tallied by an NYCFC player?
Here are a couple of hand-picked nominees for the throne —
Andrea Pirlo's laser-guided Bouncing Betty last year vs DC United:
Angelino's stunning lob at home vs Orlando City last July:
The self-same RJ Allen laying out to set up Frank Lampard's first MLS goal in the fall of 2015:
Honestly, folks? Give me last night's wizardly riff over any of those three. That's right, we're picking the Son of Old Bridge, a man whom NYCFC signed off the street after having not played not a single minute of pro soccer in 2014, over one of the great virtuoso playmakers of the modern game.Forget the blown calls, the conventional wisdom, and everything else you think you know. Thanks in part to a bit of magic from a local lad, the good guys sit atop the Eastern Conference, tied on points with the formidable Québécois.What we saw last night was a fantastical glimpse into RJ Allen's world.We're lucky to live in it.
