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| Third image for "regular Tuesday." I like it. |
Start with a premise: the U.S. Men’s National Team started (some of their) most promising young players, but not their (alleged) best, and go from there. Those kids lined up against a Costa Rican national team that was certainly experienced, but, full disclosure, I have no idea as to whether or not that’s Costa Rica’s finest.
Next question: how’d it go?
Eh. 1-0 to the U.S., and about as exciting as that sounds.
I’d say the U.S. was the clearly better team, or at least the one that played like it believed it could win – something else from playing to win – but Costa Rica had a great chance at the game’s first goal and they had at least two buck-naked breakouts (which means the U.S. had only one or two defenders close enough to matter) before that miss. Those breaks aside, the Americans started strong, and their movement and passing had the Costa Ricans chasing; Costa Rica adjusted by condensing its defensive lines, and the game turned into your everyday, ordinary CONCACAF slog.
To sum up, a young, untested American team played an experienced team from its qualifying region, one that has consistently ranked number 3 in the region behind the U.S. and Mexico, and they looked the better team, but still barely beat them. That's as regular as Tuesday, when you think about it.
Welcome to my blank slate for the U.S. Men’s National Team. I’ve made the decision to say, fuck the past, let’s just look at what’s in front of us. At this point, the U.S. is good enough to barely beat Costa Rica – and at home.
Next question: how’d it go?
Eh. 1-0 to the U.S., and about as exciting as that sounds.
I’d say the U.S. was the clearly better team, or at least the one that played like it believed it could win – something else from playing to win – but Costa Rica had a great chance at the game’s first goal and they had at least two buck-naked breakouts (which means the U.S. had only one or two defenders close enough to matter) before that miss. Those breaks aside, the Americans started strong, and their movement and passing had the Costa Ricans chasing; Costa Rica adjusted by condensing its defensive lines, and the game turned into your everyday, ordinary CONCACAF slog.
To sum up, a young, untested American team played an experienced team from its qualifying region, one that has consistently ranked number 3 in the region behind the U.S. and Mexico, and they looked the better team, but still barely beat them. That's as regular as Tuesday, when you think about it.
Welcome to my blank slate for the U.S. Men’s National Team. I’ve made the decision to say, fuck the past, let’s just look at what’s in front of us. At this point, the U.S. is good enough to barely beat Costa Rica – and at home.
To bring the past back into the conversation (no, look, just forget what I said), the Yanquis have a past record and it’s relevant: for all their big wins 2019 (e.g., over Trinidad & Tobago and Cuba), Mexico flat-outowned them, Venezuela kicked their asses, and Canada ran them over (that's Matt Doyle losing his shit, btw, fun!), even if the U.S. later repaid the favor. I take two things from all that:
1) The U.S. is clearly not the best team in its region, that’s Mexico; and
2) the barely-wins over Curacao and Panama make a certain, unflattering comment re overall quality.
My point is, the U.S. had to have had its best players on the field at some point during 2019, and that team got the results it got (see above). Those results were, by general consensus, inadequate…but “inadequate” to what? To come at this from the same direction I started, are these results inadequate for a team that consistently loses to Mexico, but that also beats Costa Rica consistently, if narrowly?
I guess the point is, what if the U.S. Men’s National Team has just found its current level?
The expectation that the national team would improve never really made sense – and that’s despite the fact it had a certain internal logic. More players playing professional, more kids getting exposed to that level at a younger age, more kids playing, etc. etc.: all that argued for some kind of permanent upward trajectory, but, as national teams around the world have proven, nothing guarantees success. England invented the fucking game, and they’ve got all the shit above in place, and they’ve been to one fucking World Cup final; Spain has two of the world’s biggest clubs and they are no better. If any country can claim to have figured it out, France has a shout based on recent World Cups, and Germany can claim a certain steady (dour) success over the life of the tournament, plus there’s always Brazil, Italy and Argentina in the mix, but, with 25 years of at least tracking U.S. national teams, I have no goddamn idea how that expectation of progress took hold – and I write that as someone who absolutely bought into it.
Getting back to the game at hand, I still liked a couple things about it. To start with the least relevant point, I appreciate that Brian McBride talks like a normal person instead of speaking in clichés; that was fun. To look a little closer at what happened on the field, I’d call the Paul Arriola/Reggie Cannon tandem the most useful thing about the U.S. team today; Arriola, in particular, is not flashy, but he’s steady and busts ass, and that makes him kind of a throwback to old USMNT teams; Cannon, meanwhile, is just good and smart. They combined to cause the penalty kick that won the game, but they both had solid outings, up to and including Arriola cutting off a breakaway in the game’s opening minutes.
New kid Ulysses Llanez, Jr. scored the PK, and did more useful things than most besides, and I’d credit Jesus Ferreira with the same (and Sebastian Lletget), but, when Costa Rica constricted the space, my memories went back to the few frustrating performances I watched in 2019. There’s nothing dangerous about any current iteration of the U.S. team, nothing to demand that the world sit up and take notice…and, again, that’s fitting for a team that can consistently, but narrowly beat Costa Rica and lose to Mexico. Yes, I know those weren’t the U.S.’s best players – and, whoops, forgot to mention, the whole thing about playing some U-23 dudes in this setting was hella smart – but doesn’t that broad profile fit the U.S. Men – i.e., not all that dangerous and occasionally vulnerable? Wasn’t that this team’s 2019 in a nutshell?
That leaves only the defense to talk about, and that was something. Costa Rica rarely threatened the U.S. goal, but the breakdowns were one-pass short of catastrophic when they did. As implied by the word “rarely,” the U.S. spent most of the game probing the Costa Rican defense (ineffectually, in general), and they capably got in the way whenever Costa Rica got close to the U.S. goal. So, I guess the only concern is what happens when they play a better team than Costa Rica…
That covers everything I have on my mind about this one. In far fewer words, it was fine if you think about it right – i.e., with lowered expectations, at least until they give you reason to have higher ones.
2) the barely-wins over Curacao and Panama make a certain, unflattering comment re overall quality.
My point is, the U.S. had to have had its best players on the field at some point during 2019, and that team got the results it got (see above). Those results were, by general consensus, inadequate…but “inadequate” to what? To come at this from the same direction I started, are these results inadequate for a team that consistently loses to Mexico, but that also beats Costa Rica consistently, if narrowly?
I guess the point is, what if the U.S. Men’s National Team has just found its current level?
The expectation that the national team would improve never really made sense – and that’s despite the fact it had a certain internal logic. More players playing professional, more kids getting exposed to that level at a younger age, more kids playing, etc. etc.: all that argued for some kind of permanent upward trajectory, but, as national teams around the world have proven, nothing guarantees success. England invented the fucking game, and they’ve got all the shit above in place, and they’ve been to one fucking World Cup final; Spain has two of the world’s biggest clubs and they are no better. If any country can claim to have figured it out, France has a shout based on recent World Cups, and Germany can claim a certain steady (dour) success over the life of the tournament, plus there’s always Brazil, Italy and Argentina in the mix, but, with 25 years of at least tracking U.S. national teams, I have no goddamn idea how that expectation of progress took hold – and I write that as someone who absolutely bought into it.
Getting back to the game at hand, I still liked a couple things about it. To start with the least relevant point, I appreciate that Brian McBride talks like a normal person instead of speaking in clichés; that was fun. To look a little closer at what happened on the field, I’d call the Paul Arriola/Reggie Cannon tandem the most useful thing about the U.S. team today; Arriola, in particular, is not flashy, but he’s steady and busts ass, and that makes him kind of a throwback to old USMNT teams; Cannon, meanwhile, is just good and smart. They combined to cause the penalty kick that won the game, but they both had solid outings, up to and including Arriola cutting off a breakaway in the game’s opening minutes.
New kid Ulysses Llanez, Jr. scored the PK, and did more useful things than most besides, and I’d credit Jesus Ferreira with the same (and Sebastian Lletget), but, when Costa Rica constricted the space, my memories went back to the few frustrating performances I watched in 2019. There’s nothing dangerous about any current iteration of the U.S. team, nothing to demand that the world sit up and take notice…and, again, that’s fitting for a team that can consistently, but narrowly beat Costa Rica and lose to Mexico. Yes, I know those weren’t the U.S.’s best players – and, whoops, forgot to mention, the whole thing about playing some U-23 dudes in this setting was hella smart – but doesn’t that broad profile fit the U.S. Men – i.e., not all that dangerous and occasionally vulnerable? Wasn’t that this team’s 2019 in a nutshell?
That leaves only the defense to talk about, and that was something. Costa Rica rarely threatened the U.S. goal, but the breakdowns were one-pass short of catastrophic when they did. As implied by the word “rarely,” the U.S. spent most of the game probing the Costa Rican defense (ineffectually, in general), and they capably got in the way whenever Costa Rica got close to the U.S. goal. So, I guess the only concern is what happens when they play a better team than Costa Rica…
That covers everything I have on my mind about this one. In far fewer words, it was fine if you think about it right – i.e., with lowered expectations, at least until they give you reason to have higher ones.
The age-old refrain (at least 25 years) about the inevitable upward arc of the US Men's team must be based on many, many bloodless business school analyses by consultants.
ReplyDeleteBiggest population? Check. Most little kids playing soccer? Check. Bagsful of money for any sports competition where we can celebrate national exceptionalism? Check. A pro league so Americans can make a living playing footie? Check. It's inevitable, right?
Except it hasn't been. Man, I don't know. Probably it's something about the national sports psyche and professional soccer's modest place in it. Worthy of long analytical articles, if not books. Which have already been written and changed things very little.
I'm just struck more and more that we have to look at what's actually in front of us instead of looking at this player or that and expecting them to haul the program over the hump. There's something clearly going on that transcends mechanics...
ReplyDelete