The Circles of Own Goal Hell: Part I

Daniel Agger, congratulations. You opened the scoring for the Danish team in dazzling style. Your no-look, no-awareness, off the back deflection which snuck just inside far post will go down as one of the greatest goals in World Cup history. And to strike so quickly, so efficiently, just 50 seconds into the second half to break a scoreless tie. Brilliant. You sliced the D with such ease you'd think that you'd shot on your own goal!

...

Well shit.

Uhhh... well... don't worry about it, bro. Probably just some vuvuzela-induced vertigo. I mean, check this out: I punched in a location on my Garmin the other day and totally started driving to my friend's house instead of mine. It's pretty much the same thing! What's that? I didn't crush the dreams of an entire nation? Yeah, good point. It took me forever to get home though.

It took 4 days, but we got one. In a sport laden with bitch slaps (Please, tell me what you think would happen if, every time a foul got called on Kevin Garnett, the ref blew his whistle 2 inches from his face. Oh yeah, this.), the own goal is the bitchiest of the slaps.

Unlike other sports in which you may, with due determination, score upon yourself, you actually get credit for scoring an own goal in soccer. Someone on the offensive team touch it before you? Who cares! You put it in. Own it, girl. In fact, we'll even make sure we put a little ball next to your name in the box score just so that it's conceptually accessible to even the most ignorant of audiences that you decided to play chicken with your own keeper.

However, you may rest well, young Daniel Agger. Your own goal, unsightly as it was, represents only the tip of the egregiousness iceberg. A la our discussion of what to avoid while celebrating a goal, a balanced look at athletic Benedict Arnolds from multiple sports will show you, if nothing else, you could have at least neutered the country of Denmark with a little more flair.

Over the next three days, I shall be your guide in exploring, from least to most brutal (/delightful), three discrete levels of own goal severity. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you The Circles of Own Goal Hell: Part I.

Circle I: The 'Sheed
'I got it! I got it!... Well, technically, I did get it.' The 'Sheed is the least unsightly and most popular way to shoot oneself in the proverbial sporting foot. Usually resulting from a simple lapse in concentration/misreading of the tide charts/handle of Jack Daniels, The 'Sheed is characterized by a blissful ignorance that one's giblets are meandering ever closer to the bandsaw. After the deed is done, however, shame is the name of the game. Allow us to explore some examples:

Sheed's Shame: The founder of this feast, Rasheed Wallace's own goal (own hoop? self-bucket?) is remarkable for its sheer lack of outside forces. I don't believe there was an opposing player within the same zip code. The face after the play says it all. Don't worry, Sheed. We know you're sorry, buddy. On the bright side, that's the most offense you showed the entire regular season. Kudos.


Man Disadvantage: Delayed penalty. You're about to put an extra man on attack. Who shouldn't you put in? Probably the dude who's been playing dizzy bat between shifts. Damn it.


The 'Unbridled Disaster': Just to swing around full circle, one more own goal from the beautiful game. Although the goal itself was not of particularly notable style, the commentator reactions are top notch. Listening to the audio track alone, you'd think that Nicolita ran over his grandmother with his car. And backed up. Twice. Something tells me these guys wouldn't make great physicians and/or motivational speakers.


One final note: To the guy on Real Madrid who runs into the goal with his hands raised in jubilation: What the hell are you so excited for? It's not like you get a little ball next to your name on the score sheet.