In a period of about 10 days, the U.S. team was dismembered by an aging German squad, lost to a fired-up, underdog Iran and then took a final kick in the pants from Yugoslavia. The Americans exited France, squabbling and finger-pointing all the way home, ranked 32nd of the 32 teams that had qualified for the World Cup.
And now it begins again. Tonight, at 7:30 p.m., in Columbus, Ohio, a new version of the team with a new coach, Bruce Arena, will host the region’s powerhouse, Mexico, in a World Cup qualifier. The clash with Mexico is the first of 10 games stretching through the fall-a round-robin of six teams-that will determine whether the Americans get a crack at redemption at the 2002 World Cup to be held in Japan and South Korea.
However meager this nation’s pretensions about soccer may be now, American soccer fans have come to view America’s place in the World Cup as something of a right. After all, we have been there now for three straight: ‘90 in Italy, ‘94 in the United States and ‘98 in France. We are kind of a World Cup perennial (or perhaps quadrennial) like the real soccer giants, Brazil, Italy and Germany. But the CONCACAF region, which encompass North and Central America as well as the Caribbean, has produced its strongest field ever (with Costa Rica, Honduras, Jamaica and Trinidad and Tobago filling the six-team field, of which three will qualify).
The U.S. staggered a fair bit in the preliminary elimination round last year and hardly seems assured of a place in the World Cup. And the opener against regional rival Mexico could reveal much about this team’s future. A win might launch this latest American team as the regional juggernaut it has long been expected to be. A tie, at the very least, seems essential to prevent a bout of potentially devastating self-doubt. Nobody wants to think what a loss in a home opener might portend.
Coach Arena has warned against just that kind of attitude among fans and the media. Twelve games, he says, may be something like a boxing match with no first-round knockouts. In the early going, he is still experimenting with lineups to determine how some of the new, young talent that was so impressive at the Sydney Olympics can be integrated with World Cup veterans like Cobi Jones, Claudio Reyna, Brian McBride and Eddie Pope.
But every lineup Arena has used has shown pretty much the same telltale signs that have come to define American soccer: solid goalkeeping, slow and mistake-prone defense, steady and often speedy-if unspectacular-midfield play and an attack that can score off a setup, but that seldom creates anything with moments of individual brilliance.
It is in that last position, attack, that developing soccer nations like the United States lag far behind the giants. Countless kids in suburban leagues across this nation can develop the basic foot-to-head skills at the core of the game. But what comes last is the intuitive genius, the eyes-in-the back-of-the-head instincts that an Allen Iverson demonstrates every game in the NBA or that Nomar Garciaparra displays on the baseball diamond. Brazil always has its Ronaldos, Italy its Baggios and the United States, well…
Which is where Landon Donovan comes in. Donovan is the American teenager who at just age 16 showed so much promise that he signed an unprecedented four-year contract with Bayer Leverkusen in the German Bundesliga. While he has languished on the bench in Germany, he has now had the experience of practicing on a regular basis with some of the world’s elite players.
Now 18, he shows an occasional flash of brilliance the likes of which has never been seen from an American star. And an exhibition game against China in January may have been his coming-out party. Donovan dominated the attack, almost scored with an early burst of speed through the surprised Chinese defense, then brought the crowd to its feet with a gem: taking a pass from defender Jeff Agoos, he flicked a touch pass through the defense that-with perfect back spin-settled at McBride’s feet in full stride for an easy goal.
If the crowd was stunned by this exhibition of finesse, so, too, was McBride. He admitted afterward: “To be honest, I didn’t think he saw me. A lot of times young players have all the talent, but they don’t make great decisions. He makes decisions beyond his years.”
Arena has put Donovan on the roster, but hasn’t committed to using him, let alone starting him, in the Mexico game. “He’s in the mix,” is about all the coach will offer on the subject.
The U.S. has already demonstrated a willingness to break with tradition in scheduling this game for Columbus, with its roughly 26,000 seats. It could have made the game a giant money-maker by hosting it in Los Angeles, but would have faced a hostile crowd dominated by Mexican fans. Even in traditional U.S. strongholds like Boston and Washington, the fervent Mexican fans would have created a conspicuous cheering section. But Columbus figures to be all Buckeye-red, white and blue, with an emphasis on the white. While the U.S. players hardly relish the cold, they should be considerably more comfortable than the Mexicans on a cold, icy and possibly even snowy evening in Ohio.
It remains to be seen whether the U.S. is willing to be equally as creative on the field. A Donovan start might truly signal a new soccer era in which the Americans can rival the best in the world. And a child shall lead them?
