ATLANTA — The man who may or may not have changed football forever is at the center of a 5,000-seat soccer stadium that on this night hosts a total of four fans. He juggles a soccer ball 10 times in a row. Foot to knee, knee to foot, foot to knee.
There is no applause. No "Jump Around" fueling his adrenaline. The only soundtrack for players here is the buzzing of a highway clashing with the squawking of birds along a trim of woods. This is no Camp Randall, no Candlestick Park. No autograph requests, no adulation, no paycheck await him—only a cool beer in the bar adjacent to Atlanta Silverbacks Park.