The England Snob Speaks: An Abomination Called Major League Soccer

There are things in this world that keep me up at night: people who pronounce “Leicester” correctly only on their third try, anyone who calls crisps “chips,” and Major League Soccer’s playoff system.

Now, I’ve been obsessed with London ever since Clark Griswold drove his family straight into it in the 80s. Part of me likes to believe the Griswolds are still out there in that roundabout — trying to get left.

The pubs. The pitches. The quiet dignity of a nil-nil draw. You know — football.

Which brings me, unfortunately, to whatever it is Major League Soccer thinks it’s doing.

A league so afraid of structure, logic, and consequence that it managed to invent a month-long, best-of-three first round, only to then switch to single elimination.

This concludes our coverage of the 2025 MLS Final. Stay tuned for coverage of Matchweek 4 four of the 2026 MLS season, which apparently started weeks ago.

So let me get this straight: we’re doing a series… until we’re not? We’re treating football like the NBA, only slower and with more advertising? Apparently, they’re too cool for a simple two-leg aggregate match — the very format that’s worked beautifully across the civilized football world for decades.

I believe for the final they just say, “Hang the sense of it!” and go straight to pens — followed, of course, by a 90-minute Jelly Roll concert. Because nothing says authentic football culture like a halftime show that outlasts the trophy lift.

And let’s not forget its proud status as the world’s premier retirement community for fading stars.

A Super League for people who used to be super.

The only league where you can catch Lionel Messi and Luis Suárez playing beach football in front of 11,000 people while pretending it’s still 2014.

A league where every signing announcement reads like the plot of Cocoon.

I believe Frank Lampard is still kicking about somewhere in MLS — hopefully the old boy can handle the grueling best five-out-of-nine wildcard round.

They call it Major League Soccer.

I call it Early Bird Buffet Football.

American Rules Soccer.

And yes, if you squint hard enough, you can tune in to LAFC (provided you can get past about four paywalls) and pretend you’re watching Pochettino’s Spurs of old — all pace, chaos, and no trophies — especially now that Son and Lloris have joined the cast. For a brief moment, it feels almost proper.

Then the playoffs start, and a month later you’re still trying to sort out the first round, FFS.

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Meanwhile, Back in Reality...

Here in Mount Vernon, we’ve got something real.

Westchester SC.

A club in a league that’s building from small communities, not mega-cities.

The USL isn’t trying to sell out stadiums the size of small countries; it’s trying to build football where people actually live.

It’s a league with promotion and relegation on the way — a proper football pyramid in a country that’s been terrified of the idea since the Cold War.

You want to see real football passion?

Go watch the USL2 Final in Vermont, where supporters turn up with flares, flannels, and frozen pints just to back their local club.

Watch Hartford and Rhode Island go at it and tell me that doesn’t look like West Ham v. Millwall on Route 95.

That’s authentic. That’s football.

Not a bunch of muppets lighting smoke and acting foolish outside Yankee Stadium — which, honestly, you can see every day in the Bronx… or so I’ve been told.

So go ahead, MLS. Keep inventing new playoff shapes every few years. Octagons, wildcards, round robins — call it whatever you want.

We’ll be over here, supporting a league that actually respects the game.

Supporting clubs that belong to their communities, not corporations.

Supporting football — the way it’s meant to be played.

Here’s to the USL!

Here’s to Westchester SC!

One day we’ll win, boys. One day we’ll win.

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About The England Snob

The England Snob is the satirical alter ego of Randy Medina — a Puerto Rican from the Bronx who’s about as English as a plate of mofongo. Get offended by his posts all you want, but do know he’s only havin’ a laugh. After all, the game’s supposed to be fun, innit?