The world’s about to end, Asheville. Drink up.

Our Hitchhiker-inspired Asheville expert responds to Asheville City Soccer Club’s 2020 move to USL League Two.

Tim Blekicki
Soccer 'n' Sweet Tea
5 min readOct 16, 2019

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(Photo Credit: Asheville City SC)

I’m getting married. I was ready to at least.

Did the teeth brushing and the beard oiling. Suit was on, struggled with the tie. I was at the venue, ready to go, friends and family in attendance, bride to soon arrive.

Then Ford came stumbling down the aisle while staring into the cloudless sky as if he was looking for something.

“We’ve got to talk. And drink.”

“Uh, I’m kinda busy.”

“I know, but we need to talk.”

(Screenshot: Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, 2005)

“Well, they can’t have the wedding if you’re not here, right? So if you leave, you won’t miss anything.”

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing. Nothing is the matter. I’ve got to tell you the most important thing you’ve ever heard. I’ve got to tell you now. And I’ve got to tell you at the pub with drinks.”

“But why?”

“Because you’re going to need a stiff drink.”

We had someone stand in my place, and we escaped out the back door and promised to be back in thirty minutes for the beginning of the ceremony.

Saddling up to the bar, Ford ordered six pints.

“Quickly please,” he shouted at the bartender. “The world’s about to end.”

The bartender poured and delivered six pints. Ford continued.

“Drink up. Muscle relaxant.”

(Screenshot: Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, 2005)

“For what?”

At that moment, choral music slipped in through a crack in the door and floated over the jukebox and the general din of the bar. I recognized it immediately, choked on my beer, and leapt to my feet.

“What is THAT?”

“They started the wedding. Drink up.”

“WHAT?”

“No matter. Let them have their fun. That world’s about to end.”

“THEIR FUN?! I have to go!”

“You have to listen to me. It won’t matter. The world is about to end. Asheville City has gone League Two. USL, Tim! It has become a McFranchise. It is no longer independent. The Clasico is in doubt. The path to professional is now becoming part of the problem instead of the solution. Do you hear me? Drink up.”

Punch drunk at the news, I sat back down reeling.

Nothing made sense as Ford continued.

“It’s all over now. I mean, to be fair, there is more stability. Guaranteed home games against local rivals from across the region, so less travel. The move will also help with player recruitment, especially for those who have professional ambitions. The league also actually promotes its clubs and does so professionally with actual graphic design and video production, so it could help draw in new fans who are more accustomed to an Americanized product. And if I’m being honest, the stability of the league could be leveraged with regards to the stadium situation, especially since the league has experience in helping with municipality owned stadiums. Drink up.”

I weighed the conversation coming out of both sides of his mouth.

It did in fact feel like the world was ending.

Much of what I deeply, from-the-bottom-of-my-soul believed concerning commercialism, competitive soccer, and my club reflecting the culture of my city was suddenly being ripped apart and sent down a path that I, as an individual, just did not agree with.

(Screenshot: Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, 2005)

But today wasn’t about me. This news wasn’t about me. I had to get back to my wedding. I had to get back to something that I loved. Something that I knew would not always be perfect, but I was accepting the disagreements that might occur and swearing to work through them. Together. I was making a vow to something that was bigger than me.

“Ford, I hear you. The burning sensation in my chest feels you. I’m having a hard time stringing these words together at the moment.

“This is not ideal and not where I had hoped this thing was going to go. But I’ve had so many questions this off-season. The NPSL Southeast was falling apart. You can’t have a division with three teams and depend on Atlanta to field a B team. If the men’s side failed, the women’s side would too. The Academy would fall apart. That’s sixty kids we are sending back into the pay-to-play system. No season tickets? 1000 less soccer balls going to our underserved youth. Asheville already has a track record of minor league sports failing, I don’t want soccer to add to that legacy. Families want soccer to attend, role models and opportunities for their kids. They’re not worried about meta-Federation issues. That’s for me and Twitter and SNST Slack to fight about.

“Fans want soccer and without this there wasn’t soccer in the city’s future. This isn’t the world ending, it’s what’s best for the club if it wants to continue. If it wants to be here in a hundred years.”

Ford nodded and smirked.

“Well, maybe you’re right. The world isn’t ending. And you do have a wedding to get to.”

I tipped back my last pint. Things were about to change for the better. I stood up and headed back to the wedding.

Ford asked as I approached the door, “By the way, what are they serving at the reception?”

(Photo Credit: Wikipedia Commons)

I paused for a moment, turned, and replied, “Crow.”

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