Salsa Adds Spice to Titans’ Field

Every decade it’s the same old thing. “Soccer--it’s going to be the American sport of the . . .

“Seventies?” Well, the New York Cosmos did play to crowds as large as 75,000. Then Pele retired.

“Eighties?” Sorry. You can’t dunk a soccer ball.

“Nineties?” Don’t tell Gary Bettman or Michael Eisner. Eisner had a choice: He could spread the Disney gospel along the boards and in the lobbies of ice rinks across the NHL--or he could pass out handbills at an APSL game. Officially, Eisner needed 1.3627 seconds to decide.

Not that any of this keeps soccer from trying. In the States, professional soccer has had more incarnations than you can shake an alphabet soup spoon at. NASL. ASL. WSL. WSA. APSL. Not to mention MISL, MSL, CISL and the rest of the indoor strain.

At the moment, the American Professional Soccer League has the floor, Blue Skies And Green Grass Division. The APSL is an amalgam of refugees from the North American Soccer League (Tampa Bay Rowdies, Ft. Lauderdale Strikers) and the Western Soccer Alliance (Colorado Foxes), plus an Orange County-based expansion team, Orange County-based expansion teams being the rage these days (take a look at the American League West).

The Los Angeles Salsa is the name of the seventh and latest APSL entry and, if nothing else, is demonstrating soccer to be the sport of the ‘90s on the north end of the Cal State Fullerton campus.

On the field where Gene Murphy’s football Titans once sweated and lost, the Salsa has 12 home games scheduled for the 1993 season.

In the office where Gene Murphy once sweated and begged for money, Rildo Menezes, head coach of the Salsa, now sits and treats visitors to scrapbook tours down memory lane, scanning photos of Rildo and Pele winning a couple of World Cups for Brazil.

Football couldn’t make it here. Now futbol tries, again, attempting to ignore the tombstone down the 57 Freeway that reads “R.I.P. California Surf, 1978-1981.”

“I was one of the most guilty people of saying, ‘Oh, soccer is the sport of the ‘80s, football and baseball better watch out’ and all that other stupid stuff,” says Rick Davis, Salsa general manager and veteran of the NASL, MISL and WSL wars.

“Pro soccer did catch on for a while, but it was premature in my mind, because the youth leagues, the kids that are playing, the numbers that we’re seeing and just the overall acceptance of the sport hadn’t taken place back in the late ‘70s, when the North American Soccer League was enjoying some of its better years.

“Certainly in New York with the Cosmos, where both Rildo and I played, it was clearly more of an ethnic thing that was making soccer a success. The Cosmos were successful, as were many of the other teams, because of the foreign players we had on teams, and the foreign teams we would occasionally play against.”

Once the novelty wore off and the Franz Beckenbauers wore out, American-born fans began seeking out American-born soccer stars. The NASL was caught empty-handed. “Too many foreigners,” Rildo says with a sweep of his hand. “The Cosmos had 18 players and two were Americans. It should have been closer to 50-50.

“Too much money was spent on old players, old foreign players. They should have invested that money and given more opportunities to Americans.”

The Salsa will do that, because the league decrees so. In the APSL, 11 players on each 18-man roster must be American citizens. The inaugural Salsa scorecard will feature such easy-to-read surnames as Fox, Lee, Grimes and Ryerson.

Another NASL misstep: Thinking big before its time. The Surf played its home games, and folded its tent, inside cavernous Anaheim Stadium. The Los Angeles Aztecs were sacrificed beneath the steps of the Coliseum.

“I think the Surf and the Aztecs were maybe misdirected . . . by playing in huge stadiums, huge facilities, and wanting to be something that they’re not,” Davis says.

“Fullerton, quite simply put, is the ideal stadium for us at this point. The Coliseum is too big. We aren’t ready to sit in a stadium that has 100,000 seats, because our 5,000 or 6,000 people that will be at our league games will rattle around in there and you’ll never have an atmosphere. Whereas in a 10,000-seat stadium, it’s perfect.”

Five thousand?

Six thousand?

If Murphy could have drawn those numbers last fall, Rildo would be hanging his soccer pennants on someone else’s walls.

The Salsa holds its first exhibition game March 7 against Club America of Mexico and begins league play in May. From the start, it will have a couple of things going for it--a real, regulation soccer field (“The best in California,” Davis says) and no real competition with major league baseball.

But there are drawbacks, too.

That Anaheim entry in the newly formed Continental Indoor Soccer League, for one. Outdoor soccer in Fullerton, indoor soccer in Anaheim, World Cup soccer training in Mission Viejo. Did we miss Orange County’s re-christening as North Brazil?

Then, there’s that nickname.

“It’s certainly made us the (butt) of many a joke,” Davis admits. “Like, ‘That’s the problem with you soccer people--you don’t know how to name your teams.’ Or, ‘Who’s your first sponsor going to be--ha, ha, ha--is it gonna be Pace or one of the other salsa companies?’ ”

Not very funny jokes, mind you.

Besides, La Victoria ought to be the goal of the Salsa every time it steps on the field.