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425, 426, 427… 428. The door to Clint Dempsey and Eddie Johnson’s hotel room in Hartford, CT, stands in front of me as if a wardrobe concealing Narnia. Once you enter, there is no forgetting. There is no forgetting a shy EJ, tucked under his comforter, sandals waiting bedside just as my Grandpa always had readied. Clint sat and stood, sat and stood, not from the pre-game restlessness - Latvia didn’t appear to effect one iota of these best friends - but from a sore back that would keep him from the playing field that day. It was a few hours before the 5 o’clock departure of the bus, and Clint and Eddie, along with some family and friends, welcomed me into the inner circle.

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It’s no secret within the industry that journalism is all about the access, and that day in the 4th floor corner suite may stand as a benchmark for me. More than simply questions and answers, too often rote and regurgitated with any number of sporting clichés, my time was that of peers, wasting time and doing what kids do – rehash, laugh, tease, and repeat.

The fun and games did momentarily turn professional, with Clint and Eddie perking up when soccer questions arose out of the otherwise hapless conversation. They happily answered questions about their health (Clint should be fine by June 12), the game (Eddie was looking for two goals and to pick up the slack “because my boy is out”), and their anticipation for Germany (they’ve been so busy, there hasn’t been a lot of time to think about it). Clint talked about his new website, www.clintdempsey.com, firing his own questions, hoping to learn as much as possible before its launch, which was June 1.

An insatiable strength was evident within Clint when it came to his website or music (we flipped through numerous beats that producers made for him to choose from for remixes of Don’t Tread and whatever he happens to come up with next). Just as on the soccer field, his personality leads him to dive in, try harder than before, than the rest, and settle for nothing but success. Having this down time with him allowed me to notice this about him, something watching him play or perform in rap videos would never have garnered. I was always the kind of guy that was radically different on and off the playing field. Flip a switch and I was a maniac with no morality. Clint, on the other hand, projected a love and enthusiasm that was with him no matter where his body stood.

For Eddie, it was just the opposite. The pop of his play and diamond stud earrings hide the understated voice and shy persona that in fact tell more about who this phenom is. The lightning speed on the field converts to a graceful shuffle off, whether teasing Clint about the post-goal Motorcycle Dance they are yet to perfect or a new rhyme that too is rough around the edges.

Listening to their papable excitement and anticipating what Clint (and no doubt Eddie will work his way in there) will share on his all-access commentary of his first Finals experience, the idea of my great access became overshadowed. What is better access than direct communication between player and fans? In this way, Clint’s blog destroys some of my hope to take the reader inside. No matter the access you get, someone is always closer to the subject as you approach the very subject themselves, and one can only hope their participation (and distance) includes some insight that not even the player can provide. That being said, the fan in me is still excited about Clint sharing his world. He is just so damn excited about going to Germany, that it should make for some interesting blog fodder.

This anticipation is only magnified by the fact that due to other things in my life, I won’t be heading to Germany next week. Rest assured, however, that Clint and a few contributors to this site, will keep everyone abreast of what’s happening. Anyhow – someone has to stay home and pump up those Neilson ratings. Thank god for HD.

Next up:

The night before: as Steven Segal said, “the anticipation of death is worse than death itself.” It apparently carries over for soccer as Clint and Gooch keep themselves busy designing shows at the Nike ID store in Manhattan the night before flying to Germany.

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