It’s taken me about 24 hours to get over the stomach punch of USA-Brazil.  For those of you that do not follow international soccer, the USA scored 2 first half goals and then bunkered in to weather the second half only to give up 3 (really 4) goals from a ultra-hyped Brazilian squad.  The final goal came in the 83rd minute.  I’ve been conflicted about my impressions about the game and the state of USA soccer.  So in no particular order, here are some thoughts.

1. Watching the Game.

I stayed up til 4am to watch the game.  I told myself that if we were down at half time or if at any point we went down 2-0 then I was going to bed.  As you know the game was not decided until the 83rd minute, which was about 6:30am by that point, so with a heavy heart I laid in bed until my alarm went off … 45 minutes later.

The entire time I was watching the game, I knew that we needed at least 3 goals to win.  Even with our second goal, I was hoping, nay praying, to God above for us to take a clean sheet into half time.  I knew in my heart that was our only chance.  Just after our second goal, the Selecao looked punch drunk and listless.  They were kicking balls out of bounds, losing possession on easy tackles.  They had lost their composure.  I knew we needed another score if we were going to have a chance, especially when Brazil started to heat up.  We had to go scoreless deep in the second half to stand a chance.

We gave up a goal 40 seconds into the second half and Brazil smelled blood in the water.  I knew it was over as soon as they scored.  Our team went into half-time and collectively realized, “holy shit, we’re up 2-0.”  That’s when our legs left us and our eyes became wide with fear.  We stopped playing.  The best way to give up a lead is to play to protect that lead.  It was gut wrenching to watch.  A slow, inevitable death.

2. “We’ve proven that we can play with the big boys.”
This is probably the #1 comment that I’ve intercepted from mostly my American compadres.  Because the final score was 3-2 and we took a desperate Brazil until the 83rd minute in the final of a FIFA tournament that means that in some way American soccer has ARRIVED.  Well, I’m sorry, no it doesn’t.

This might be a distinction that only people that have religiously played soccer for years and years might be able to make, but we played pussy soccer.  We bunkered in our defensive third and then counterstriked.  That is how weakling countries play the real football countries.  That is not how Holland, England, Germany, Argentina, Brazil, England, France, or Italy play soccer even against each other.  They do not hide with the hope of swarming defenders with hard fouls to cover up for the lack of skill, tactics, or formation.  Sorry, but that is just the truth.

We were absolutely lucky that the game was not 6-2.  Firstly, Kaka’s header was absolutely a goal.  Tim Howard fetched it out of the net and we caught a break, albeit our first break of the tournament after some lame-ass red cards.  But consider these facts:

• Brazil dominated possession 58% to USA’s 42%.  That is Varsity vs. JV.  That’s a huge disparity.  If you look at a baseball player and see that he is batting .275, you might think geez he sucks … unless you know the sport.  Or how to differentiate between a hockey, baseball, football, or basketball win/loss record.  Different sports, different stats, different meanings.  That type of possession imbalance indicates that we were playing clear and chase without lack of an organized attack or midfield.  I watched the game and that’s exactly what we had.
• Shots were 24 vs. 8.  Shots on goal were 11 vs. 4.  I’ll let you guess which was which.  And this does not speak to the quality of shots that Tim Howard was able to save.  One on keeper blasts that he was lucky to fingertip save at full extension.  That’s the one area that the USA has always been gifted, ever since Tony Meola in 1990.  We produce good keepers that maintain some respectability on our scorelines.  The truth is that if you stuck in … say … China’s goalkeeper … half of those chances would have gone in.

We play 3rd world soccer against good teams, because its a gimmick strategy that gives us a slight chance to weather an offensive barrage at the absolute sacrifice of any shape, intelligent play, or possession beyond the defensive third.  We HAVE to play that way, because as you saw in the second half, we don’t have a single field player that could even crack Brazil’s reserves.

3. Coach Bradley got pwned.

This sounds strange, because I’m throwing the coach under the bus for what is essentially the least coached sport in the world … other than snooker.  But, he was gifted with a miracle two goal lead.  At that point, he should have put on his mad scientist hat and done every move proactively to nurture, sustain, and massage that lead for as long as possible.  This is what distinguishes good coaches from mediocrity.  Change the formation, try a different strategy, and sub out players.

What am I getting at you might ask?  Jozy Altidore was clearly out of gas by the 50th minute.  He was loafing from the start of the second half, absolutely exhausted and didn’t win a 50/50 ball, a header, or present a viable target for the rest of the half.  Why then did it take Bradley until the 74th minute to sub him out?  That’s 30 MINUTES of non-production.  And then to take him and Feilhaber out and put in Bornstein and Kljestan?  That just murdered us.  Those two came onto the pitch with the same expression as the onside kick returner in the Waterboy.  “Oh yeah, there’s my bitch.”

Also, we spent the entire first half defending the center of the field for one reason.  That’s where Kaka was.  Where he goes, so goes Brazil.  We were dodging bullets with Robinho and Maicon running free down the sides, right past our hapless wing backs.  But we were surviving.  In the second half Dunga moved Kaka to the right side, giving him more possession on the wing, and that’s a big part of what keyed our collapse.  We made no adjustments for it, we doggedly held onto the middle of the park despite there being little or no threat coming from that part of the pitch.

To be honest, I would have been interested to see us run a 4-5-1 with Adu up there by himself.  He’s small, but he’s super quick and able to keep possession.  Just give him a through ball and let him hide by their corner flag.  Adu was the only baller left on the sideline.  Honestly our reserves look like the scout team for Chivas USA.  Oh wait, they were.

Anything to take advantage of the new situation we found ourselves in at half.  At 2-0 our strategy had to change.  And if we’re gonna play bunker, then by God let’s play bunker.  Get Jozy off the field at half and bring on a true defender or even Torres.

4. Be a Real soccer fan.

If I err on one side of USA football, its that I’m the overly critical fan.  There are two types – me and the one win chump.  These chumps proclaim that we’re world powers after each win and stubbornly insist in pre-game that we’ll trounce every team by three or four goals.  I hate these fans.  I’m more realistic.  I desperately want us to grow into a true world football power, but I’m very honest on the state of things.

This is why I am a critical fan.  When you watch pee wee soccer vs. pee wee football in Oklahoma, you see two different types of parents.  These players are all eight years old.  The soccer parents gently clap and reassure their kids that even though the kicked the ball into their own goal, its “all just for fun.”  Whereas the football parents are stalking the sidelines and barking at their kids to focus on the game, make a play, lay a hit, and help the team.

You see what I’m getting at?

Our country treats soccer like the special ed version of sport where simple participation is sufficient.  If we raised the expectations on our little soccer stars, then collectively our talent pool would deepen considerably.  That’s how I feel about the MNT.  I’m not going to gloss over obvious flaws because these are my countrymen.  No, I’m going to hold them to a higher standard, because I want to win so badly.  I watch the international leagues (La Liga, EPL, Serie A, etc) and I know what a top notch side looks like.  I refuse to be happy with losing closely contested games.  We’re Americans.  We should expect nothing less than victory.

5. The enigma that is Landon Donovan.

I’ve been torn on Donovan since his start.  I jumped on the early bandwagon that he was the savior of US soccer, a title that was neither fair nor appropriate.  I jumped off the bandwagon when he was unable to make a dent into any starting 11 in Europe as well as watching him disappear against any competent international side not named Mexico.

But here’s the thing that I’ve recently arrived at.  Landon is a good player.  And I don’t mean that condescendingly as a good “American” player.  I mean he is a legit international player.  His style is one though that he will only be as good as his surrounding cast.  In the Brazil game, he broke in a 3/4 field sprint, giving the ball up to the winger.  Only when he received a quality pass back was he able to shine with his surgical finish.  That’s the thing about soccer vs. basketball … one player can not win a game.  Even the great Pele was surrounded by perennial greats, such as Jairzinho (also one of the greatest strikers of all time).

I tip my had to Landon with new found appreciation because he’s become the leader that I hoped that he would become, but unfortunately his talents are being wasted with the quality of our current team.

6. Consistency or consistently bad?

We played competitively against Italy, but collapsed after a bad red card (1-3).  We were destroyed by Brazil (0-3).  We rebounded against Egypt (3-0) and gutted out a big win against Spain (2-0).  Going back to CONCACAF qualifiers, our performances have been equally up and down.  One week we are beating Mexico 2-0, then we tie El Salvador 2-2, we beat T&T 3-0, then lose to Costa Rica 3-1, and then beat Honduras 2-1.

Who the hell are we?

Are we good?  Are we bad?  Our team is young, true.  But the truth is that we can’t get a consistent brand of football, which makes me blame the coaching staff.  Our team is struggling for an identity, struggling to find a formulaic way to break down defenses, and giving up stupid goals in the back.  We peaked in 2002 in Japan/S. Korea.  We played well enough to advance without any major gaffs in group play.  The USA was lucky to draw Mexico in the first elimination round and we played the Germans straight up, without fear, and should have gone into extra time (minus a missed handball on the goalline by a Deutsch defender … no, I am not bitter).

Then WC 2006 rolls around and, of course, as soon as we have to play on European soil, we’re like monkeys humping a football.  We finished deadlast in France 1998 and in Germany, we ended up with 1 point, last in group, with a -4 goal differential.  Game over, thank you for playing.

This is the frustrating thing with USA soccer.  Whenever we take a step forward, we seem eager to take two steps back.  The team that we are currently fielding, despite a good result against Spain (classic choke artists in their own right), I cannot say is better than the 1994 team that got the ball rolling for us.  Is there anyone besides Landon that can match up to Harkes, Ramos, Dooley, Stewart, or Wynalda?

I don’t think so either.

So its with my head in my hands, tearing out my hair, that I wait for next summer with the hope that we pull it together for another magical run, but the dread that we’ll continue our up and down, up and down journey through world football.