Adu Believe We Have a Signing

• by Conor O'Grady
• August 12th, 2011
• News
• 4 Comments

Freddy Adu, the American prodigy who eventually fizzled into relative obscurity, will don the Snakes and Stars. 

Under a cloak of standard Nowakian intrigue, in the course of a few hours the deal was speculated upon, rumored, announced, confirmed, and finally “officially” announced by the team this morning.  The cherry on this cake is that Freddy doesn’t even count as a DP, and Piotr Piotr Pumpkin-Eiotr has already hinted that this isn’t the U’s last move of the summer transfer window.

So what does this mean?  Essentially, it means what every signing means: a ray of hope and a plethora of questions. 

The Union has been down Sign-a-guy-who-used-to-be-awesome Lane before, with heretofore lame results.  The difference here is that Adu’s glory days took place before his voice changed, which mean’s he’s got a lot left to give.  This isn’t some over-the-hill international winding down his career; this a 22 year old who’s been playing since DC United signed him as a fetus. 

Since then though, he’s struggled to find a home.  He’s wandered across clubs and continents contributing well enough, but never really making a huge mark.  Always good but perpetually just short of great, Adu as a former child star is somewhere between Bonaduce and Bale.

So why should this new venture be any different?  Here’s why: a young man full of talent and energy needs one particular thing in order to channel his mojo into success, one particular thing that Freddy Adu has never had- a true home.  A stable, supportive, non-exploitative environment in which he can blossom into the stud we all thought he would be before his pubes came in. 

What fans give more encouragement and you’re-already-part-of-the-family-now-earn-the-love-we’re-already-giving-you attitude than Union fans?  What city doesn’t just give a soccer player something to play for, but somewhere to play for?  Philagoddamdelphia, that’s what city.  We cheered for Seitz for god’s sake, no matter how many balls he packed in foam peanuts and personally Fed-Exed into the net.

We’re basically adopting a foster kid who’s been passed around from house to house.  He’s Michael Oher, and we’re a bleached and overly mascara-ed Sandra Bullock, ready to give this boy what he needs.  Now he’ll be able to settle down, focus, and fulfill the promise of his youth. 

Or not.

But it will be fun to see.