Elizabeth Warren and the CILF Test

Last week, Elizabeth Warren launched a Senate exploratory committee to begin raising money for a possible 2012 attempt to wrest Ted Kennedy's old seat from Massachusetts Republican Scott Brown. Right now, I don't like her chances. And here's why--Elizabeth Warren looks like this.

In other words, Elizabeth Warren, despite all her impressive academic and professional qualifications, fails the Candidate I'd Like to F*ck (CILF) Test. Now, I don't mean that literally, and I'm not inferring that guys who voted for, say, Mitt Romney, in the last primary did so because they wanted to have sex with him (though that's an interesting theory).  No, I'm really using the CILF Test as a benchmark to evaluate if a candidate projects the sleek, prepossessing image that America expects from its aspiring politicians.

The CILF Test doesn't apply to old warhorses like John McCain or Rosa DeLauro. But, if you're an aspiring politician, it helps to look more like Scott Brown than Meg Whitman. Similarly, while veteran news anchors can look like old, leathery handbags, rookie newsreaders should appear as if they've just retired from the pageant circuit. Though none of this terribly superficial stuff should matter, it, of course, does. Just as the professorial Warren was forming her exploratory committee, Slate.com released a piece on what Google search terms were associated with various Republican presidential candidates. For Michele Bachman, who has more or less officially been anointed as "photogenic" by the popular press, "hot" and "bikini" were especially popular; while, for Romney, "hair" was unsurprisingly near the top of the list. When I Googled "Elizabeth Warren," terms like "harvard" and "books" popped up. Yawn. At the risk of sounding unkind, another term that comes to mind when I see photos of Warren is "great personality." If she hits the campaign trail, I hope she has one. She's going to need more than just her good looks to win back Ted's seat.

Is this a candidate you'd like to . . . well, you know?
That's what I thought.

The Return of El Niño? Chelsea Hopes So.

Over the span of a few years, Fernando Torres went from sporting a coiffure vaguely reminiscent of Paris Hilton to being almost as useless as Paris Hilton out on the pitch. After struggling to find his form during the first half of last Barclays Premier League campaign, Torres joined Chelsea in a blockbuster transfer in January and basically disappeared. When spotted, he was seen skulking at the fringes of matches, looking generally out-of-sorts and ineffective. So, shortly after news of a potential breakthrough in the D.B. Cooper case emerged, it seemed appropriate that there was a Fernando Torres sighting during the Blues match against Stoke City last Sunday. Though he failed to score, Torres created a chance, attempted four shots and consistently challenged the Potters back four. Perhaps more importantly, though, he just looked livelier. To wit, Torres received 51 passes before being subbed off in the 89th minute last Sunday. During the last two matches of the '10/'11 campaign, Torres had a total of only 54 passes received, with a listless performance against Newcastle standing out as particularly fallow. If this improved work rate is a sign of things to come--and not just a false dawn--Chelsea will add to their trophy cabinet this year.

Michael Carrick--Good . . . But Not Good Enough for United's European Ambitions

As chuffed as Manchester United supporters must have been to watch their club rally from two goals back to pip Manchester City 3-2 in the Community Shield, Sunday's performance still left at least one important question unanswered. How will United overhaul the likes of Barcelona and Real Madrid in Europe with Michael Carrick in the center of the pitch. Now, to be fair to Carrick, he's a quality player who endures a hellacious amount of stick from the chattering classes on the Internet and in the Twittersphere. Just because some of this criticism is unfair, though, doesn't mean all of it is undeserved. After all, it was Carrick who gifted possession to Yaya Toure before he rifled home the winner in the FA Cup semifinal. And it was Carrick who looked simply overmatched during the Champions League final, attempting a meager 38 passes and connecting on only about 83 percent of them before being mercifully substituted in the 76th minute. On Sunday, it was Carrick's long, diagonal pass that Nigel de Jong intercepted to start the build-up to City's second goal. The fault for that goal should not pinned exclusively on Carrick, but one cannot envision Paul Scholes conceding possession so cheaply under similar circumstances. At least towards the end of his United career, the intensely private Scholes jealously guarded the ball as if it were imprinted with his ATM PIN; Carrick, if he's to inherit Scholes mantle as United's deep-lying pass master, must do the same. Carrick's apologists often note that he has an impressive collection of Iberian admirers, as both Barca's Xavi Hernandez and Real's Xabi Alonso, have lavished the midfielder with praise. What Spain's X-Men have politely omitted from their respective paeans is that Carrick wouldn't crack the starting XI at either Barca or Real. Carrick is not world class, and, with him in the center of the park, neither is United.  

The Loewdown on US Soccer's Superstar Gaffer

Finally, in Jürgen Klinsmann, the United States Men's National Team has its superstar.  Granted, he'll be on the touchline instead of the pitch, but, right now, Sunil Gulati, the president of the United States Soccer Federation, will gladly take it.  In his pomp, Klinsmann was a world-class goal-getter who plied his trade around Europe and netted 47 international goals in German colors.  His credentials as a player are impeccable.  His credentials as a manager, on the other hand, are less clear.

Klinsmann took his first managerial post in 2004, helming an unfancied German Man's National Team that seemed in danger of embarrassing itself as host of the upcoming World Cup.  Combining the ruthlessness he exhibited as a striker (in demoting the imperious Bayern goal keeper Oliver Kahn in favor the eccentric Jens Lehmann) with some New Age coaching methods (like the extensive use of a sports psychologist) that seemed to coax match-winning performances from supposed has-beens like Lukas Podolski, Klinsmann took Die Mannschaft on a fairytale run to the quarterfinals. Along the way, he also managed to restore the reputation of football in Deutschland and awaken a latent and relatively benign strain of German nationalism. He and his nattily clad assistant, Joachim Loew, were national heroes. Not a bad start, really.

Perhaps sensing that the sequel couldn't possibly live up to expectations, Klinsmann opted not to renew his contract with Germany shortly after the World Cup. Loew, who many theorized was the power behind Klinsmann's throne, has seamlessly assumed command and led Germany, now ranked third in FIFA's world rankings, to impressive performances at the 2008 European Championships and 2010 World Cup. Klinsmann, on the other hand, has struggled to build upon his sensational early success. Two years after leaving Germany, Klinsmann was handed the keys to the Bundesliga's most iconic, finely tuned machine--Bayern Munich--but Klinsmann's Left Coast Zen never quite jibed with the prestigious Bavarian club's more buttoned-down culture. With five matches remaining and Bayern 3 points off the top of the table, Klinsmann resigned. He hasn't worked as a manager since. 

Since their amicable separation in 2006, Loew has been the Paul Simon to Klinsmann's Art Garfunkel. With the USMNT listing towards regression after a disappointing Gold Cup, US soccer is hoping he can rediscover his mojo. Troubled water lies ahead.