Match Recap: FC Cincinnati 1 - Orlando City 5

James O'Connor is disagreeable.

He is that neighbor two houses down who voted for the third-party candidate in the last presidential election, fond of pointing it out. He still has the yard sign on his porch, the election sticker on the bumper of his somehow still operational 2004 Ponitac Aztek, right beside a plethora of equally offensive bumper stickers covering every square inch of the back of that hideous purple SUV.

He's the neighbor who mows his lawn at 7 AM on Saturday morning, after leaving his dog in the backyard barking all night long. Spends the rest of his weekends sitting on his front porch judging passersby. Never says, ‘Hello,’ or even remotely acknowledges a friendly wave or nod from the unsuspecting new neighbors. He just sits there chewing on some unidentifiable twig or maybe it's just his shriveled brown lip, acting like he's better than everyone else.

The dingy purple house where he roosts certainly belonged to his parents, paid off before he moved in after they died. He lucked into his job making decent money doing fantastically mediocre work for a mediocre company that's just too lazy to let him go. Never married, because who could stand to look at that smirking, curmudgeony face everyday. It's not just you. Pretty much the whole neighborhood hates him, but he is still somehow captain of the neighborhood watch, constantly nosing into everyone's business.

Yes, Jimbo just never seems like he gets his due, always sliding by, unscathed by tragedy. It's not that fortune favors him. It's more like fortune just overlooks him.

James O'Connor is like that guy, but he's a soccer coach. He is the sworn enemy of all FC Cincinnati. He was once the coach of the USL's Purple B-League Cheaters from Western Kentucky, and now he's the coach of the Purple Lions of Disneyworld. In any event, he likes to talk smack about our team, always doing his best to make the neighborhood miserable with his raving, pasty-faced rants about his b%11sh!t opinions.

Maybe it didn't happen this past Sunday, when the Orange & Blue fell 5-1 in the sweltering swamp of Orlando City. But, one of these days, this town is going to royally spoil that jerk's breakfast and shut his face up. Maybe that day will come on September 29, FC Cincinnati's last home game this season. It's a long way off, and even if we lose every game between now and then, I think I could be satisfied as long as he leaves Nippert with a loss and a pink slip and plods off into the sunset, his purple Aztek packed full of USL trophies and hair gel, driving into a rain storm for parts unknown, never to be heard from again.