DF in Deutschland: World Cup 2006

The end, my friends

2006-06-26T17:05:00.000-04:00

There's an old showbiz saying that you should always leave the audience wanting more. What I'm afraid this means for you, Broad R., is that however much you may be addicted to my dispatches from the road regarding the 2006 WC, it's time for me to bring this blog to an end.

This was, of course, always the plan. Back when I started writing this blog, I knew it would be a time-limited project, one that would end when my trip to Germany did. Yet large parts of me would love to keep writing it. Travelblogging is, as I discovered last summer, an enormously enjoyable pastime while on the road, as well as a functional one--it forces me to keep a record of the various happenings that take place abroad, while at the same time apprising friends old and new of my whereabouts. Replete with pics and comments this time around, it's a habit that I hope to keep up as I continue to travel around in my efforts to see as much of the globe as possible. But it's time to get back to life and work and since this blog was always about the US in the 2006 WC, its raison d'etre has ceased to be, and so must el blog.

But as for the me and the now, I am as usual torn about the imminent end of this journey. On the one hand, I'm ready to go home. If the World Cup is a feast of soccer, I'm really really full. Not "exploding stomach guy from Monty Python" full, but "if I have any more food I could almost yak" full. As in, I'm going to watch the rest of the games, then put US soccer--indeed, all soccer but the occasional DCU game--on the shelf for a while. And while it's been great to see Berlin again, I've been here enough in the past two years that there's nothing entirely new that I've absolutely got to see.

And yet there's always that distinctive melancholia that accompanies the end of any trip. I remember with such clarity the morning I left Chicago, and feeling abuzz with excitement (not even imagining the strange and great change of plans that would dramatically alter my travel plans the very next day). I'm ready to go, but it's been an fantastic experience, and part of me wishes it were that morning again in O'Hare, full of anticipation and possibility, imagining but not really knowing what the next few weeks would bring. And with that, B.R., I must return to the packing and bid y'all auf wiedersehen.

Berlin WC 2006: the highlight tour

2006-06-26T10:52:00.000-04:00

Hypothetical: if, before you made plans to go to the WC in Germany, you knew your team were going to be out of it after three games, earning only one point and generally underachieving, would you still go? Answer: an unequivocal yes. Don't get me wrong, I'd much rather that the US had gone on another improbable run through the tournament, but even as their success put a bit of a damper on my enthusiasm for the soccer, the experience overall was unmatchably great. Some highlights:

--The Berlin fanfest. I was here at least five or so times, and while the frenetic fan energy of the Germany-Poland contest had its own appeal, I'd have to say I preferred the experience of the relatively deserted fanfest in between games, when you could just wander around and check out the various attractions. Among my faves were the soccer-themed sand sculptures, one of which featured Klinsmann, Voller, Vogts and Beckenbauer in a Mount Rushmore setting; the beer stands strategiclly staffed by adorable German girls; and the Bavarian style bierhall that morphed into the world's cheesiest Eurodisco by night. I could, however, have done without the live performance from Toxic (sp?), which has to be one of the worst bands I've ever had the misfortune of hearing. If you try to imagine a cross between Christian Death and Poison doing terrible a capella covers of American top-40 pop songs, you'll be somewhere in the neighborhood. I spent almost the entire set transfixed by its sheer hideousness, going so far as to buttonhole random German adolescents to ask whether this kind of performance was actually popular in their country (they denied it but I'm suspicious--after all, these people love David Hasselhoff).

--The food. I abandoned vegetarianism for the time I'm here because I didn't want to miss out and it's turned out to be a wise, if not entirely healthy decision. The first few days were a wurst-fest, mainly because the square nearest my Ku-damm hotel is populated by countless food stands where you can get a couple great brats for cheap. On one day I think I ate six of them all told (breakfast, lunch, dinner). After a while, I have to admit I got kind of sick of them, and changed over to Nackersteak for a while (basically grilled steak on a bun--more expensive but worth its price in deliciousness). Oh right, and there were restaurants too, of which my fave has to be Henne in Kreuzberg, an out of the way place with a lovely biergarten and the most delicious fried chicken I've ever eaten (or, I suspect, ever will eat). And after I grew tired of meat, I basically camped out downstairs at Va Piano, a chain of really slick modern Italian places where chefs make your custom pasta creation in front of you (also surprisingly cheap). Given the posh Ku-damm locale, it's a bit Eurotrashy, but you know I'm kind of into that, so I spent hours reading in the slick interiors amid fashionista ladies with the enormous sunglasses (yes, worn indoors) and awful Eurotechno.

--Berlin, again. So as the broad readership doubtless knows, I kind of killed this city last summer, spending weeks here and seeing it in pretty much every detail. This time around, my plan was more to focus on watching, writing about, and traveling to the football rather than exploring the city (though I was glad to spend more time in the west/Ku-damm area rather than the east/Mitte where I stayed last summer). But then Tim rolled into town and I had the opportunity to serve as tour guide, which called on my knowledge of Berlin geography and transport (shaky at first, but it came back) as well as my opinions on the best things to do and see. In only a few days I reprised for Tim what I thought was a pretty good overview of the city, starting from the medieval center over by the east/Mitte and then all through the city--medieval center; Alexanderplatz & fernsehturm; museumsinsel; Checkpoint Charlie; remnants of the Berlin Wall; Holocaust memorial; Brandenburg gate; Reichstag; fanmile; Column o' Victory; Tiergarten; and back to Zoo station and the Kaiser-Wilhelm Gedanischekirche (or Broken Tooth for ease of remembering and pronunciation). I'd seen it all before, but wandering through it all again created a strange mix of memory, nostalgia, and wonder at the heart of the monumental, historical capital.

--The life. The life is, as the man says, good. Thanks to Web Guy I have had the enormous good fortune to spend my time here staying in the Hotel Concorde for the low low price of free. This means that instead of shelling out too much money for a low-end hotel room in an outlying area, I've got the comfort of a luxury hotel at my disposal, and have been taking advantage of it all--the posh lounge, the well-accoutred gym (steam room good; freezing cold plunge bath horrible); the resplendent breakfast buffet; and the looks of the hotel staff who are all like "who's the American guy with the board shorts and the T-shirt that says "Jamaican me crazy"? Plus since I'm here with more friends this time I've been able to go out and see the nightlife a bit (OK, more than just a bit). Best bar: this really cool place along a canal that's crawling with K-burg hipsters and has a swimming pool (which I didn't end up using--didn't have trunks with me and thought the alfresco alternative was a tad bit creepy). Best club: Sophienclub, which has a relaxed door policy and a great playlist of fun dance songs.

So yeah, I wished the US had done better, and I felt more than a little jealous of all the Germans and others who were able to cheer goals and wins and generally be proud of and excited about their team. But as total experiences go, Berlin is just as bewitching and fun as I remember. I'm ready to go, but it was a great two weeks and strangely enough I'll miss this place.

USA-GHA II: the aftermath and aftermyths

2006-06-26T07:27:00.000-04:00

So the final whistle blew in Nuernberg, and that far-from-great chapter in US soccer history ended. In the intervening days a ton has been said about the fallout from the USA's bleak performance, much of it excoriating criticism in the mainstream media. It's taken me a while to sort through all my thoughts, and there's certainly no reason to rehash the simple theme of disappointment and finger-pointing at players, so instead I'm going to choose a few themes that have emerged that I don't think quite work as well as some that do.

Myth #1: The World Cup exposed the US as a subpar soccer nation. I don't buy this one, any more than I think the 2002 WC proved that we're one of the leading soccer nations. While I bristle at the practice of assigning empty adjectives to teams ("first-tier", "world-class", etc.), I do think you can get a rough sense of where we are in relation to other teams. I'd peg the US as somewhere in the top 20-25 teams in the world, certainly nothing like their FIFA ranking suggests (no knowledgeable fan ever thought there was anything to this). This means they can be expected to and deserve to qualify for the WC, but aren't odds-on likely to make the second round, although they might if they play well and breaks go their way. This could change given the emergence or fading of certain players, but as of now I think that's where we stand.

Non-myth #2: Our big players didn't step up. It's a real shame to have to acknowledge this, and some people have been too critical, but there's no way around it. LD was a non-factor except for about a half-hour of the Italy game; Beasley is nowhere near as bad as people have been saying (remember he was involved in the only two plays where the US put the ball in the net), but still didn't look anything like the brash young firebrand who broke out against Portugal in 02; and even KK didn't have the superhuman WC that I know he's capable of (I've seen him stop breakaways before but he didn't manage that against Rosicky or Draman; his bad distribution led to the first CR goal; and Friedel stopped two penalties in 02, which KK did not). Thing is, it just doesn't seem to me that our players have realized the promise they showed in 2002 and earlier. It may be that they haven't challenged themselves (but Bease is playing in Europe, which weakens the "LD must go to Europe" theme).

Myth #3: Arena must go. I don't know if he'll stay but the criticism of him doesn't seem quite right. His use of the 4-5-1 was a reasonable concession to our incredibly weak forward pool, and included three attacking players in midfield to make up for the single striker. And as for the accusation that he lost his nerve in using a 4-5-1 against Ghana, I'm not convinced that the lineup was the best, but let's give Bruce credit for the relatively gutsy move of starting two young untested players (Convey and Dempsey). While Bruce may go (because of his own choice or the USSF's), I don't see it as mandatory because I'm not sure what the alternative is. I really doubt Mooch Myernick would do a better job. As for foreign coaches, they're in short supply and also it's not clear whether this group of players would work well with a foreign coach, as opposed to someone who's very familiar with the distinctive US Soccer situation).

Non-myth #4: The US fell apart psychologically. "Fell apart" may be a bit harsh, but I don't think it's far off the mark. In the runup to the World Cup, the team began to sputter in the Germany game where we lost 4-1, and then looked tepid and unimpressive in the pre-WC friendlies (losing to Morocco, then beating Venezuela, Angola and Latvia by narrow scorelines). The Bruce seemed to me unusually testy and irritable with the media in the month before things started up, and then Beasley spouted off with the press. I'd always thought the US had a distinctively well-disciplined and unified camp, but I began to doubt that as the WC approached. I think the discord off the field showed in our play.

Myth #5: We didn't get any breaks. Not entirely so: in the Italy game we got a massive one: the equalizer that Italy scored for us, and that basically kept us in the World Cup. But also let's not forget Boca's clearing header that clanged off our crossbar. If that ball is five inches lower, we lose that game and are eliminated after two. We battled hard against Italy and deserved the draw, but good breaks helped keep us level with them. Now it's true that bad breaks--most notably many of the calls against Italy (cards included), hitting the post twice at crucial moments against CR and Ghana, the really poor penalty call against Ghana, and the non-call on the Reyna foul that led to Ghana's first goal--really hurt us in that game and others. So I think we can say that we got more than our share of bad breaks this WC. But good teams make their own luck, and luck wasn't responsible for the horrible game we played agaisnt CR or the flat one we played against Ghana. What was missing for us was that extra edge of brilliance on occasion that put us on the map in 2002--Friedel's saves, McBride's and Donovan's goals, the overall sense of purpose and intensity that made me proud of every game we played four years ago (ok, not Poland).

Non-myth #6: We suffer by not playing enough high-level games. This has got to be true. We play a mere handful of friendlies between WCs, and then we expect to be able to play at the highest level against these teams? No way. Geography puts us at a disadvantage on this score, but I think it would help a ton to participate in the Copa America and to take seriously the Confederations Cup (as opposed to using it as a proving ground for rising MLS players). The problem as I see it is that when you play as we do against Concacaf-level opposition for the most part, you can get away with the kind of errors that will kill you at the highest level. The more we play against higher-level opposition, the more we'll be punished into learning to play a less mistake-prone game. More games against top-level opposition will also acclimate us to the higher level of intensity that will be necessary to succeed at the WC.

Myth #7: The US doesn't have enough talent to succeed at the World Cup. This one is self-evidently false, as anyone who watched in 2002 will readily understand. But it is true that the US isn't in a position of a team like England who can play at a sub-par level and still get relatively far in the tournament. If we're going to have success, we're going to have to play at our absolute highest level and also get a few breaks, just like in 2002. Compare, for example, the South Koreans. They play with an out-of-their-minds intensity for every minute of every game, and as a result they overachieve based on their talent level (e.g., semis in 2002). But even that wasn't good enough for them this time as they ended up going out when they couldn't beat the Swiss despite enormous effort (and some tough breaks). I believe we saw that from the US against Italy, but one game does not a World Cup make.

Non-myth #8: This World Cup was a big disappointment for the US. Easy call here--of course it was a disappointment. But let's be clear: it was a disappointment not because the US went out in the first round (many people correctly said before the tournament started that given the level of the opposition, the US could play excellent soccer, better than they had in 2002, and still lose all three games), but because of how they went out. I'm still not sure what happened agaisnt the Czech Republic, but I remain shocked that in what was our most important game in four years we came out looking almost as bad as I've seen us look in the entire time I've watched this team. And against Ghana, I expected to see the US play with the ferocious intensity they showed against Italy, but they looked, well, mediocre (and Ghana, while by no means brilliant, simply did what they needed and took both chances that we and the ref gifted them). If the US had battled hard all three games but fallen short (such as South Korea did), I could have regarded the World Cup as a qualified success. But the general sense of testiness the team showed and their inconsistent performance on the field didn't leave a lot to feel happy about.

Myth #9: The US was overconfident. This is one propounded by a lot of the media back home, and I just don't see it. No one ever said this team had a shot to win the WC. Bruce and others explicitly disavowed the inflated FIFA rankings. Everyone who knew anything about soccer understood the difficulty of the group and the possibility that the US wouldn't get out of it. The US did, to be fair, go into the WC with a posture that suggested "we're a damn good team and we're ready and able to compete with anyone." And while the performances didn't bear that out, that wasn't an unreasonable approach to take to the tournament--it seems like at the very least you have to bring that kind of attitude to have a chance. I think the buildup was dead-on, and I think people who misunderstood that are primarily types who just don't understand the context of world soccer.

Non-myth #10: The US fans were awesome. If there's one bright spot for the US after this WC (aside from Clint Demspey, whose success was by the way, presciently foretold on this very site), it was that US soccer has a broad and enthusiastic following willing to shell out for a trip around the world to follow a team despite their underdog status. One of the most bittersweet moments for me came at the end of the Ghana game, when we had just been eliminated, and the great supporters section just kept cheering and cheering the team--despite their disappointing play--as the players came over and showed their appreciation for an effort that quite frankly impressed me far more than the USA's play on the field did. More than anything, it was a chance to feel--for a change--like I'm not one of two or three people who actually cares about this team. With distances so far apart in the US, and friendlies relatively rare, it's not often that the entirety of the devoted US soccer fanbase gets together in one place, but this happened in Germany 2006 and it was great. The fans were the real US stars of this world cup. Every fanfest before every game--in Gelsenkirchen, Kaiserslautern, and Nuernberg--made the experience an unforgettable one that I wouldn't have missed for the world.

USA-GHA I: the experience

2006-06-25T10:56:00.000-04:00

So I've been MIA over the past couple of days and I realize there's much to do in the way of catching up the broad readership. Since there are already a million postmortems ranging from angry to indignant to sad about the USA's performance in the World Cup, I'll keep this post to the story of traveling to the match in Nurnberg rather than the details of the (forgettable) game that transpired.

It all began the night before, actually. My friend Tim had rolled into town a couple days prior and I'd been fortunate to arrange a couple tickets to the game (in addition to the one I was already holding). Thing was, they didn't arrive when expected because of some UPS mishap I still dont' understand. So we tracked the package and were promised it would arrive by nine AM on the day of the game--exactly enough time to catch a train to Nurnberg in time for the kickoff.

So the next morning it was time to play the waiting game--we convened at 7am just in case the package arrived early, and I annoyed the hell out of the concierge with phone calls every fifteen minutes asking whether it had arrived (each of which was answered with an icy "Sir, it has not"). Then came the drop-dead time: 9am. No UPS delivery. No tickets. (This isn't necessarily representative of the quality of their service, but next time I send something it's damned well going FedEx. I'm just sayin'.)

Then we decided to leave, figuring that I could use the one I already had and Tim could scalp. We managed to get on a 9.30 train bound for N-burg and I managed to sleep all the way to our connection at Fulda. How was this possible given my history of never catching a single wink in transit? Easy: Canandians. There was a guy sitting across the aisle from me who was from Toronto and who harangued me (in a low-key Canadian way of course) with the most boring string of soccer talk I'd ever heard. He was basically a nice dude, but within ten minutes I was so bored that I fell dead asleep.

After the change at Fulda we picked up the pace. Tim and I spent the remaining two hours of the journey in the cafe car with a bunch of US fans. We'd met a guy on the first train from Berlin who had played high school soccer with John O'Brien, and had ditched his job to travel around Europe for a while. He amused us with a string of barely-coherent anecdotes about the various people he'd met on the road, and impressed us with pics of him in the family section of the Italy game, where he had apparently alienated all the relatives of the US players in the Italy game by blowing a whistle nonstop throughout. We also caught up with a group of guys from the U of South Carolina whose use of face paint was a lot more enthusiastic than it was aesthetically pleasing. (See pic.) They also managed to kill a handle of Jim Beam before the train got to the station, which was all the more impressive since that was apparently just a starter for them.

By the time we got to Nurnberg Hbf, the fan scene was in full swing and again the US fans impressed me both in terms of numbers and noise--I hadn't expected anything quite like this, and it rivaled the Gelsenkirchen game for sheer intensity. Tim was fortunate to scalp a ticket, and we then moved on to a biergarten on the way to the stadium from the train station that was similarly loaded with US fans, as well as a band playing classic American rock anthems (not my music of choice, but it was good for the atmosphere). Tim's enormous red, white, and blue afro wig was undoubtedtly the hit of the party--I lost count of the number of people who came up to him asking to be photographed with it.

Then the game, about which the less said the better, except that my seat wasn't in the supporters section, but was still surrounded by about 80% US fans (overall, I'd say representation was about 70-80% US fans throughout). The Dempsey goal was a great moment--the celebrations actually knocked me off my feet and left me prone in the aisle below me and I now have quite a few bruises to show for it. Speaking of quite a few bruises, DF (always the peacemaker) defuse a possibly dangerous situation when a fairly large US fan to my left began taunting a very large German guy in front of me who was rooting for Ghana. At one point they were actually in each other's faces, and it was more out of a sense of self-preservation than anything else that I stepped in to calm down the US fan.

So after the game we ran back into co-blogger mirarchi and his stepdad and began the long, melancholic trip back to Berlin. But Tim and I had a couple hours before our train left, and joined mirarchi and family for what turned out to be a great meal in the Nurnberg city center. The place was awash with fans but we still managed to find a table in a classic Bavarian restaurant in what appeared to be an old castle. Bratwurst, fried potatoes, and kraut all around--a virtual feast of doom for the old cardiovascular system but undeniably delicious.

On the train platform we ran into Web Guy and spent the rest of the ride camped out in the cafe car, where again I managed to sleep for a couple of hours. When I woke up (it was a direct train), I happened to cross paths with a small group of US fans each lamenting the WC showing. Tim and I ended up talking with a guy who does an NPR radio show (I believe it was called Marketplace, but I'm not a listener, so...), and then the train rolled into Berlin and our day--and the USA's World Cup--was at an end.

{Pic #1: Bewigged Tim draws admirers at Nurnberg fanfest.}
{Pic #2: DF and facepainted South Carolinians on train to game.}
{Pic #3: Pregame scene at Nurnberg fanfest.}
{Pic #4: Tim and FOJOB (friend of John O'Brien).}

GER-SWE @ adidas arena

2006-06-24T16:57:00.000-04:00

I checked another item off my to-do list when I watched the Germany-Sweden game today at the adidas arena, a venue with stadium seating and a couple big-screen TVs. It's designed to resemble the Olympiastadion and occupies the field opposite the Reichstag. You need tickets to get in, and one might say that it’s ridiculous to pay money to watch a game on TV when you could as easily do that at home. But what makes the experience distinctive, of course, is the atmosphere. The adidas arena fits something on the order of ten thousand fans (more than, say, go to see the Metrostars play), and while it wasn’t the same as being at a game, it wasn’t far off. The pandemonium that erupted when Podolski scored his early brace was deafening.

So as I write this in my hotel room, there’s non-stop horn honking and general din in the streets around Ku’damm as the Germans celebrate their convincing win over the Swedes. So now it appears that the party that erupted when Germany beat Poland wasn’t really that unusual at all—it’s not at all a reflection of the quality of the win or the magnitude of the accomplishment (e.g., the same thing happened after the largely meaningless win against Ecuador) but just an excuse to have a big party.

And I have to admit it makes me kinda jealous. The WC is an unparalleled scene win or lose and it’s been great to be here (about which more later), but the disappointing US performances did cast a certain pall of, well, disappointment over the past few days’ proceedings. When the Germans were having a great time and celebrating their goals at the Adidas arena today I couldn’t help feeling the contrast with how I felt about my team. But that is of course a necessary risk—winning wouldn’t be meaningful if it weren’t occasionally contrasted with losing (unless you’re Brazil, of course).

{Pic #1: Adidas arena interior.}
{Pic #2: Happy Germans celebrating yet another goal.}

US fans suck, reports The Guardian (UK)

2006-06-20T06:57:00.000-04:00

BERLIN—This just in: supporters of the USMNT are drunken boors who are as ignorant about soccer as they are jingoistic in their political beliefs, reports British paper The Guardian.

You can all go home, now, guys. You’ve been found out. Star editorialist Marina Hyde of the Guardian is onto you and she’s brave enough to say so in print a day after the fact. In her startling expose, Over-excited, Overweight, and Over Here, Hyde points out that—in sharp contrast to the classiness of other soccer fans—the US brigade contains individuals who like to drink booze, carry a few extra pounds, and (when subject to pointed questioning at the hands of incisive writers such as herself) may utter vaguely nationalistic observations. Let’s take the devastating accusations one by one:

First, we’re all a bunch of drunken sots who like a rowdy good time, wear crazy costumes, and support their team with a fervor that can be off-putting to those who don’t share the enthusiasm. Well, Marina, you’ve got us on this one. It’s just that well, this characterization could describe pretty much any group of supporters for any team in the World Cup—most notably the folks who follow the Guardian’s own national side. (I’d say more about the irony that a writer for an English paper is calling out other fans as drunk and obnoxious but don’t want to belabor the obvious.)

Second, we’re all ignorant about soccer. Hyde supports this powerful accusation by pointing out that Americans say “zero” instead of “nil,” and refer to defense as “D.” Yes, it’s true—Marina Hyde has revealed that we have our own variant of soccer terminology. Oh, but it’s worse: we’re all ignorant of global politics, too! While this is certainly a commonplace stereotype, Hyde amply supports that it reflects reality by finding a US fan who mistakenly asserted that Dubai is in Africa. That’s brave reporting: discovering that a drunken sports fan lacks immediate recall of world geography. Can I get a line to the folks who give out the Pulitzer? This lady’s a cinch.

Third, and most crushing of all, Hyde smokes out US fans for what they are: Bush-loving, militaristic jingoists who uncritically accept the administration’s policies. Hyde points out that one supporter said that “[A] Kurdish taxi driver in Berlin . . . rated the president very highly.” “Rated him highly”, eh? Interesting phrasing—not the kind of language that an American would use, but kind of British-sounding, really. I’m just saying...

Anyway, now I’ve got to break character here for a sec to make a serious point: as far as I’ve seen, every single US fan at the World Cup has put politics behind them. Most of the people I know here are big administration critics (self included) rather than supporters, but for the most part I don’t have any sense of the general political tenor of US fans because we’ve put politics behind us—wisely. If you want to bring politics into the mix, you find yourself in an infinite regression. Can’t root for England, thanks to their centuries of bloodthirsty colonial aggression. Italy? Repressive fascists were on the wrong side of WWII. Serbia didn’t exactly have a great 1990s. Germany? I won’t even go there.

Back to Marina Hyde’s incisive reporting, though. When I read stuff like this, I’m often reminded of a sportswriter friend who observed in 2002 that a huge part of the lukewarm reception of the US national team’s success derived from resentment that America was becoming part of one of the last few major world arenas where it’s historically been absent. Now it appears that the analogue is happening with respect to the USMNT fan following. In other words, there’s a party going on and lots of people—e.g., Marina Hyde—doesn’t want the US to be there. The resentment is clear in the egregious double standards applied to each teams: witness the outpouring of affection for T&T by neutrals, by contrast (though to be fair the neutrals in Fritz-Walter-Stadion on Saturday night ended up pulling for the US after seeing how they played).

And here’s why articles like Marina Hyde’s make the world a worse place: the World Cup, and soccer more generally, provide a venue in which people can put aside their differences of belief and opinion and recognize instead one thing they all have in common. Every single US fan I know who came over here for the Cup did it because they love the game of soccer and want to be part of its quadrennial global celebration. Some Americans may be xenophobic isolationists who want no participation in the world community, but the fans who follow the USMNT aren’t (as Marina Hyde’s obvious lack of success in finding any truly threatening political comments from fans illustrates)—otherwise they wouldn’t be here. When you try to marginalize a group of people who are making a gesture that connotes global unity, you’re helping to build the kind of international resentment that events like the World Cup (however marginally) have the potential to defuse.

Now in the end, this is after all an editorial that’s meant to be entertaining, and Hyde’s shtick is crystal clear (cold, condescending Englishwoman stares down her nose at boorish Americans—which you have to admit is a very original take). And to be fair, this is entertaining. I for one had a hard time putting the article down, if only because I found myself increasingly impressed at the audacious absurdity of each subsequent observation. But in the end, it’s not intended to be taken that seriously and shouldn’t be.

So I think we can all agree that this is really just a stitch up. It’s not exactly difficult to find a bunch of drunk soccer fans acting crazy—that is, after all, what drunk soccer fans do. But the real opinion expressed here isn’t about US fan support, it’s about Marina Hyde. Marina Hyde doesn’t like America, doesn’t like our fans, doesn’t like the idea that we’re actually a presence at this World Cup, and she would just like for us to leave. But at the end of the day, it would be more ballsy to just admit that instead of cobbling together selectively chosen quotes and observations in an unconvincing attempt to ridicule fans who have done much to enliven this cup (and haven’t created a single violent incident in the process—a marked contrast to the European supporters who Hyde fails to criticize in her piece).

So the thing is, Marina (who kind of looks like a British Anne Coulter *shudder*), we’re here and we’re staying, so get used to it. And perhaps a little more knowledge about and tolerance of the US fan support—and less reliance on tired stereotypes and simpleminded mockery—would make the transition go a little more smoothly for all you who find us so terribly distasteful.

USA-ITA II: the fans

2006-06-19T13:26:00.000-04:00

BERLIN—It began at some obscenely early hour with a wake-up call after a night that—thanks to pre-game jitters and a body clock irretrievably screwed up by jet lag and too many nights out—included at most a single hour of sleep. The road to Kaiserslautern from Berlin is long and the trains promised to be crowded. I was excited about the Italy game, not so much about the journey to get there.

I remember little about the trip to our first stop in Mannheim except that Web Guy and I had inadvertently booked seats in a smoking car, which meant that my chances of sleeping shrank from slim (as they always are in transit) to nil. I ran into a couple groups of equally tired US fans on the train—one group from NYC who had been to each of the past four WCs and a group of guys from Houston/Cleveland—as well as a girl from Minnesota traveling with her family who was having all the people she met on the road sign a soccer ball (the family apparently hadn’t realized their trip to Germany would coincide with the World Cup—not the best planning but they didn’t seem to mind too much).

From Mannheim, we learned that we’d have the pleasure of traveling to K-town on a local S-bahn train so that the journey (a mere 20min on a normal train) would stretch to over an hour. And by this time soccer fans were pouring into the terminal so it turned out we’d be spending that hour pressed up against total strangers. As it turns out, the strangers we were confined proved to be quite an enjoyable bunch. We met a girl from Denver who was going solo to K-town without tickets; I was continually impressed by how many people headed into the town ticketless, not really expecting to be able to scalp but just wanting to be near the action.

Stranger still were a pair of Italians who chattered in their native tongue with each other until one of them answered his phone and spoke English in a flawless Australian accent. I had to know. “Are you Italian or an Aussie?” He then explained—in a flawless cockney accent now—that he was born in Italy but lived in England. It was without a doubt the least accented English I’d ever heard a non-native speaker use. I spoke with him and his friend (who, by the way, spoke English in a flawless Scottish accent) about various topics including—what else?—how insufferable the English can be.

Unleashed from the train with plenty of time before kickoff, Web Guy and I strolled the fan mile toward Stiftzplatz and the Yanks Abroad party. Upon finding it, who did I re-run into but the New Yorkers with whom I’d made the improbable dash to the Arena auf Schalke in Gelsenkirchen. We reminisced about the car ride and I bought them a round of drinks for letting me tag along with them before.

Then Web Guy and I settled down in the Brauhaus am Markt to watch the Portugal-Iran game (for which I was conspicuously the only person very happy about Portugal’s 2-0 win that sent them to the second round). Things began to heat up in the Brauhaus, with a crew of US fans in the courtyard and another outside getting into songs and chants. It was a nice scene, with tons of support and US flags everywhere, but while I wasn’t really in the thick of things like I was in Gelsenkirchen, my sense was that the fans weren’t going off with quite the intensity that they were before the Czech Republic game (because the fans were saving it for the game? perhaps).

This day turned out to be for me much less about encountering random strangers and much more about meeting up with old friends. Web Guy and I ended up spending most of the pre-game time with a longtime amiga from the Hague and her friend who announced upon arriving that thanks to a recent freak head injury she was allowed neither to drink nor look at any TV monitors—restrictions that cut down on her ability to enjoy the game full-bore but increased my admiration for her attending the game despite aforementioned brain trauma (definitely the most dramatic affliction I’ve ever heard of someone braving to see the US). I also met up with co-blogger mirarchi, who’s traveling through Germany with his wife, stepdad and infant son in tow. At only about six months, mirarchi jr. easily wins the prize for youngest supporter in attendance.

So after hanging at the Brauhaus for a while, we all began the long march down the K-town fan mile and toward the Fritz-Walter Stadion about two hours ahead of kickoff, and it was a good thing we did, because the roads were packed with molasses-slow humanity and it took us a good hour and a half to get into our seats. I won’t say too much more about the game than I already have except that I felt enormously happy and lucky to be at the first away game in US history where American supporters brought more of a presence than their counterparts.

The way back along the overly crowded path to the train station was festive but subdued (great performance, but how do you celebrate a tie, especially when it could well have been a win?). The jammed train out of town had a party atmosphere—there was more drinking, and singing and shots of Jage (not for me, I was exhausted). I sat next to a spectacularly drunk kid from LA who moaned about the Italian diving for a while until I pleaded fatigue, at which point he turned around in his chair and started haranguing the folks behind us about it. In the early morning hours, when I woke up and headed to the cafe car for some industrial-strength hydration, I met someone who must be the loudest US fan in the world. We had a good chat about the game but he was so high-decibel that I lasted only about twenty minutes before I returned to my seat for a pseudo-nap.

After changing trains at Hannover, we rolled into Berlin Hauptbahnhof around 9am, making for a total of fifteen or so hours spent on trains all told. My last fan meeting was with an earnest, wide-eyed American kid sitting behind me who hadn’t been to Berlin before and was asking a German couple if they could help him identify the street he was staying on. In an attempt to identify it, he explained that “it was where Hitler held a lot of marches. Know what I’m talking about? The Nazi rallies? Oh, and it’s the street where the Third Reich had a lot of their office buildings. Sound familiar?” I could hear the Berliners cringing three rows over. So I followed him off the train, told him where the street was (it was Friedrichstrasse) and suggested that when you’re trying to ask Germans for directions, invoking the Nazis may not be the best idea.

So I got back to my hotel around 10am (Web Guy was not so lucky—he failed to get off the train at Hauptbahnhof and had to ride all the way from Ostbahnhof and then back again), having stayed up most of two nights in a row, and slept til 4.30 that afternoon. This following the US throughout Germany is a demanding and exhausting business, but games like USA-Italy are worth all the trouble in the world.

{Pic #1: mirarchi leads the way to the F-W Stadion along the Kaiserslautern fanmile. Distinctive headgear make him easy to follow.}

{Pic #2: Web Guy, DF, Hague girl, and brain-damaged friend at Brauhaus am Markt.}

{Pic #3: Mrs. mirarchi, DF, mirarchi pere, and mirarchi w/mirarchi jr. along Kaiserslautern fanmile.}

USA-ITA I: the game

2006-06-19T05:19:00.000-04:00

BERLIN--I haven't written about the Italy game in Kaiserslautern because I'm just now getting over it, but it turned out to be without reservation one of the most extraordinary experiences I've had watching soccer live or otherwise.

I'll be posting separately about the fan scene and the sixteen hours of train travel to and from Kaiserslautern, so this entry will be about the game alone, or more accurately about the experience of attending the game, since there's already a surfeit of quality analyses about the contest itself, which FIFA's Technical Study Group rightly termed the most exciting game of the World Cup so far.

So I'll begin as we walked up the utterly packed approach to the stadium, which was jammed to such an extent that I feared we'd miss kickoff even though we had over an hour before gametime. As things turned out, we made it into the game with just enough time, and our tickets were near (though not exactly in) the VIP area (meaning that we couldn't get free drinks and food but could watch others enjoy them).

Surveying my position before the game started, it was clear that the US fan presence at the Fritz Walter Stadion was substantial--more pervasive than at any other international game I'd seen outside the US, and perhaps even outnumbering the Italians. By contrast, I was one of a handful of Americanos in a sea of mostly calm, demure Italians. Immediately on my right was a Swiss-Italian guy who casually disparaged the US in an accent that reminded me of the Italian chef from the Simpsons. ("The Americans---they not-a so good. They-a gonna lose. I wanna salami pizza. Shaddapa you face.")

Then the game began, and something about the desperate situation and the incredibly high stakes kicked in. Normally, I'm a fairly voluble, enthusiastic rooter. On this particular day, I was a straight-up madman. Especially when it became clear within the first five minutes that the US was playing the polar opposite of the game they played against the Czechs, the crowd--self included--got behind the team with enormous intensity. Every run, every tackle, every foul, every moment seemed infused with more drama than I'd ever experienced at a sporting event.

When the Gilardino goal happened it proved a bit of a shock, especially because took place entirely against the run of play. But in contrast to their scattered reaction to the early Czech score, the US seemed inspired by going down a goal. The equalizer came within five minutes--followed on by the straight red to de Rossi--and sparked celebrations so intense I don't really remember them. When things settled down, everyone's drinks had spilled, I was standing in the row behind me (not entirely sure how I got there), and the Swiss guy next to me had vacated his seat for more neutral ground.

I love watching a game live and in person because of the proximity to the action and the intensity of the fan experience, but it exacts costs as well--most notably missing details that would be clear from a TV broadcast. So I remember the rest of the game in disjointed moments of clarity: Mastro's red card foul (which seemed pretty rough and entirely unnecessary); the Pope sending-off, which sparked wild Italian remonstrations (those people loooove to gesture); the Beasely non-goal, which I never really thought would count (just pessimism, didn't notice McB offside); a hatful of brilliant Keller saves toward the end; and then a weird strange silence at the final whistle. Especially coming from the US, it's hard to know just how to react to a draw. The result left us with a reasonable chance of qualification, but it also could have been better--we had the best of play and could readily have gotten all three points.

So wild celebrations were not in order (though I did my fair share anyway), but as I left the F-W Stadion for the long, crowded march back to the train station, my overwhelming emotions were relief and pride. I felt relief that the US were still in the tournament, and that they hadn't been embarrassed as they had been against the Czechs. But more than that I felt enormous pride in how hard they fought even when down a goal, and then down a man. At the very least, this tie banished the notion--which so many fans and pundits seek to perpetuate given the barest scrap of support--that the US is a terrible soccer nation. Results may or may not happen, but on Saturday in Kaiserslautern, the US MNT earned the respect--however grudging--of the soccer world.

Next stop Kaiserslautern

2006-06-16T18:10:00.000-04:00

Steeled for the probability of failure but hopeful of the possibility of a miracle, I'm off for Kaiserslautern tomorrow. Our train leaves at 7.30am to arrive at 2pm on what is supposed to be a gorgeous sunny day. After the thorough beating we took against the Czechs, things look pretty dire. A draw against Italy would still make our chances of success pretty slim, so to guarantee advancement to the next round we need to win tomorrow, against a team with a legendary defense and the most imperious group of strikers in the tournament. It is, to say the least, a tall order.

But I'll be there. Why? Partly because being a true supporter is about following the team regardless of results. And also because the party in K-town looks to be a great one. I'll be meeting up with two separate groups of friends and will be hoping to take advantage of the all-you-can-drink special at the Yanks Abroad party at the Brauhaus am Markt (though if Gelsenkirchen is any guide, it may be too crowded to make drinking there a realistic option). So no blogging tomorrow, but I'll catch you all up on Sunday. And before I attempt to sleep, here are some disjointed thoughts about today's games.

--Argentina put up probably the most impressive offensive display I've ever seen in a World Cup. All six of their goals were impressive, but the second (which followed a 24-pass sequence) was unbelievable. And the Serbia team they defeated gave up a total of one goal in WCQ throughout ten games. Argentina bettered that by five. In ninety minutes.

--I was a little disappointed in Holland's shaky defense of their one-goal lead in the second half of their win against Cote d'Ivoire. And though I'm glad to see the Dutch get to the second round, it's a shame that their game against Argentina has been rendered meaningless. Finally, while C d'I is out, they gave a damn good account of themselves in two tough losses to two excellent teams. Definitely unlucky to have been in that group.

--I loved seeing Angola take a point off of Mexico. There's a bit of the schadenfreude factor, but mostly I'm just happy to see such a major underdog give a good account of themselves. Plus, the result means that Portugal can clinch qualification to the second round with a win tomorrow.

Fun urinals, player escorts, and other WC laffs in Berlin

2006-06-16T12:27:00.000-04:00

There's nothing funny about soccer, people. It's big business and deadly serious competition. And when you consider that the World Cup is being held in a nation that is, while efficient at making cars and strict in rule-following, not exactly known for its humor, then you've got one unfunny tournament on your hands.

But Germans have made a few valiant efforts to lighten the otherwise serious mood. And where better to start but in the men's room, where urinals contain little goals and soccer balls so you don't have to be away from soccer even when you're answering nature's call (see pic). Oh, and if you're using one of these and you get the notion that it would be amusing to call out "goooooooal" while you're doing your business, know now that it's been done. By every damn man to use one of these novelty-enhanced facilities. So it's played.

And near my encampment in Kurfuerstendamm lies another WC innovation that, while not ha-ha funny is certainly an enjoyable novelty: an enormous foosball table with four-foot-tall Berlin bears as the players (see pic). It's both fun and a great workout for the lats and trapezius, as I learned the other night when a group of us went over to play a few games (using a life-size soccer ball rather than the standard tiny foosball sphere).

Unfortunately, this game lasted only about five minutes until a policeman showed up and told us all--in a profanity laced tirade--to stop. We were all kind of baffled; this was, after all, a public space and we were using the foosball court for its intended purpose. The cop's stated reason for ruining our fun was that the game was too noisy and would thus wake guests in the nearby hotel. It was a little hard to buy this reasoning considering that this was the same night Germany beat Poland to spark wild and very loud celebrations throughout the city. I had a difficult time imagining a hotel guest saying "I had no trouble sleeping through the honking horns, football songs, and general pandemonium, but when I started to hear the sound of a soccer ball bouncing off some large porcelain bears, that crossed the line."

So I did what any sane person would have done under the circumstances and gave this cop a yellow card for being an idiot (see pic). As it turns out, there are red and yellow cards lying all around the city. I've picked a couple up and now take them with me everywhere. It's really become a great social tool. If someone makes a lame comment or spills someone's drink or otherwise commits a party foul, they're on a caution. Two such incidents (or one really egregious one) and they'll have to leave the premises and sit out tomorrow night's activities. I'm definitely going to introduce these into my daily life upon returning to the States.

Finally, I feel compelled to end on a down note. We all know that mores in Europe are more relaxed than they are in the US (prostitution is legal here, after all), but I was more than a little surprised when I discovered that FIFA is arranging escorts for all players in the World Cup. Apparently people write in from all over the world giving reasons they'd like to be a player escort, and the lucky (?) winners get to do their thing with a randomly selected player before a game. I don't want to sound prudish, but some of the language on the FIFA site is really a bit much. They tout the number of applications they've received, and then boast that "this really does show how much of an honour and exciting prospect it is to be a McDonald’s Player Escort. All hoping that this is their opportunity to be involved in something extremely special." I'd say. Well, as the man says, when in Rome.

The embarrassing rise of the soccer intellectual

2006-06-16T06:51:00.000-04:00

A reader turned me on to this Slate article entitled Soccer and the intellectual, which makes a series of embarrassing claims about the kind of American who's drawn to soccer (illustrated with a really insulting drawing of a goateed loser juggling a soccer ball while carrying a volume of Derrida).

The article poses a series of unflattering reasons why one would choose to follow soccer despite its relative obscurity, the first of which is its relative obscurity. If your tastes lead you to prefer things obscure to those commonplace, then in America soccer has much more cachet than the big three (or four) sports, all of which are impossible to miss thanks to constant commerical hype.

Many have accused me of liking soccer for just this reason, but I really don't think it's true. The story of my soccer liking (I'm using the lukewarm term because if I hear the words "soccer" and "passion" in the same sentence I'm going to regurgitate the protein bar I just ate) isn't really about discovering the sport accidentally while living in the US. Rather, it's something that always interested me (I watched World Cup games and the occasional US qualifier) but that I got really into during a summer spent living in Europe (perhaps an odd choice given that it was the offseason). It was more or less a one-off thing: I got tickets to a couple high-profile pre-season games at the Amsterdam Arena, and everything about the experience--the game, the environment, the fans--hooked me.

So I suspect that Slate's embarrassing explanation #2 might make more sense for me: taking an interest in soccer, as the author sez, "indicates a certain cosmopolitanism." Yeah, OK, I'm guilty. In my defense, here's how I see it: the world is a big and interesting place, and while I'm American to the core I'm interested in everything the globe has to offer, and soccer provides a convenient way to experience the various cultures of aforementioned globe. For one thing, it provides a lens through which one can examine societies; countless authors have weighed in on how soccer provides insight into world conflicts so I won't repeat that point here.

But at the same time, it provides a common thread that links people regardless of their national identity. Some commercial epitomized the idea with the ad slogan "we all speak soccer", and there's a lot of truth to this. The sport gives its followers something to discuss that transcends (and avoids) thornier issues that would be likely to create conflict or confusion. In the taxi to the airport when I was leaving, it was much more enjoyable to talk to the Algerian cabbie about his nation's talented but ill-fated 1982 World Cup team than to be all like "Hey, how bout those strained Arab-American relations?"

So I plead guilty to the above, but there's one aspect of my enthusiasm for the game that the Slate piece doesn't touch on (and which lies in not a little tension with the point about cosmopolitanism): good old nationalism. For reasons that escape me, I've always been a bit of a crazy parochialist when it comes to international competition. When the Olympics are on, I follow the medal count to make sure we've won again (both most gold medals and highest overall medal haul). And this translates easily to soccer: my team is the US, like it or not. I follow Portugal due to some sense of ethnic loyalty, but at the end of the day I'm American and I'm tied to the fortunes of US soccer, win or (as the case appears to be at this tournament) lose.

This disassociates me (thankfully) from most of the folks that the Slate article talks about, who are soccer aestheticists and base their allegiances on anglophilia or a purported appreciation for a nation's style of play (punctuated, inevitably, with a reference to Eduardo Galeano's "a pretty move, for the love of god" line from Soccer in Sun and Shadow--cue bile rising). The latter take is a bit to precious for my taste. That, and it seems a losing proposition when so much soccer is dull and defensive (sorry folks, it's true--just like baseball is slow-moving, basketball is irrelevant til the last five minutes, and football consists of ten minutes of action interspersed between four hours of commercials). At the end of the day, this sports fan has to have a team to root for (and whenever I watch a game, I find myself picking sides involuntarily, just to make it interesting for me), and that goes an enormous way in lending emotion to games that would otherwise be snoozefests. Plus, if you don't root for your native country first and foremost, you're a total poser.

One place I get off board with Slate on this matter is the notion that soccer is a necessary alternative to following other American sports. First off, I don't think the point about authenticity of emotion is right. There's plenty of hackneyed manufactured pageantry in the World Cup, as I learned when watching the hour of pre-game schlock that preceded the Brazil-Croatia game in the Olympiastadion. It may not have been as tacky as a bunch of football players running out of a giant inflatable helmet, but it was lame and inauthentic nonetheless.

And second, there's no reason that enjoying soccer should be mutually exclusive with following other American sports. I love football in both its incarnations, and have often watched Arsenal on Saturday and then the New England Patriots on Sunday. They're vastly different experiences, of course, and I can see why fans of one have difficulty appreciating the other, but it's not a problem for me. I'd much rather have my sporting life be a many-course tasting menu than one massive serving of the same thing, so I find the varianced appealing rather than alienating.

Oh, and the other thing about soccer that doesn't appear in the Slate article: it's really, really fun. To a large extent the World Cup isn't about the players or the games at all; it's just an excuse to have an enormous party to which the entire world (including, increasingly, Americans) is invited. This is why it's still a fantastic experience even if your team crashes out: even if you support Costa Rica or Poland you can still be part of the fun. However badly the US played against the Czechs, I wouldn't have missed being on the scene Gelsenkirchen for the world.

Germany narrowly beats mediocre Polish team; pandemonium sweeps nation

2006-06-15T15:50:00.000-04:00

I'm not sure how the Germans will outdo last night's scene if they actually do win the World Cup. Here in Berlin, craziness erupted when Neuville's late goal sealed a win against Poland and a spot in the second round. And I don't mean that there was a general sense of celebration, either, but rather that the streets were beseiged by cars with horn-honking drivers and crazy German fans standing atop moving vehicles waving their nation's flag. Eventually, the police closed down many areas (including around the Kurfuerstendamm where I'm at) and turned them into gigantic pedestrian malls that were overrun by celebrating Germans (and defiant, flag-waving Poles).

It was great but I've just got to say the intensity of the response surprised me. After all, so far the Germans have looked shaky at best in their two wins. They scored four against Costa Rica but let in two against a team that is really not very good (they just got schooled against Ecuador 3-0 today for an early exit from the tournament). Then against Poland the game looked for all the world like it was going to end in a draw until Neuville's late heroics. The victory was truly exciting but considering that Poland looked awful in their first game--which Ecuador won, 2-0--the result hardly flatters Germany.

The other strange thing about yesterday's Germany-wide hysterics was that the game produced an entirely unsurprising result. Everyone expected Germany, the host and world soccer power, to get out of their group at least--especially when they were drawn against such lightweight opponents. I could imagine a city-stopping celebration if the team won the World Cup or even if they got an exciting result in a knockout round, but what went down yesterday would be the equivalent of Detroit natives rioting when the Pistons merely clinched a playoff spot in the notoriously weak NBA Eastern Conference.

Then again, maybe I underestimate the German appetite for parties. It could be that however impressive last night's outpouring was, it was only the appetizer, and that the main courses are going to be even more resplendent still. I'll be happy to discover that I was wrong about all this.

{Pic #1: German fans celebrate Neuville goal @ Berlin FanFest.}

{Pic #2: Fireworks dot Berlin sky as celebrating motorists cruise the Ku'damm area.}

US Soccer: we've arrived

2006-06-15T13:31:00.000-04:00

If there’s one thing good that we can take away from the USA’s debilitating loss to the Czech Republic, it’s that our sports fans and media finally react to soccer with a degree of hysteria on par with European and South American nations. I’m making this observation only now because it took me a while to be able to read the reaction to the game, but after sorting through it I’m reassured that this WC disaster in the making won’t erase soccer from the American sports consciousness, because everyone seems to be having too much fun freaking out over this one failure.

In order to see what I'm talking about, look no farther than the soccer cognoscenti, people like me who have been closely following the US men’s national team for years and actually understand the meaning and context of Monday’s game. Part of the reaction here is straight-up rage-tinged disappointment, expressed with all the dignified understatement of a John Waters production of La Boheme. Andrea Canales' column from Soccernet.com is as good an example as any. You can just see Canales freaking out at her keyboard as she portends the downfall of US soccer and reveals the astonishing discovery that Arena's good management makes no difference if the team doesn't play well.

So why is this evidence of our arrival on the world stage? Because all of a sudden, the mainstream media and soccer specialists alike are treating one single bad game as an epic, newsworthy tragedy. In 1990, no one really took note as an overmatched US went out in three games. In 1998, our abysmal WC merited a brief mention. But now America seems to regard a single game as warranting funeral notices. There's no such thing as bad publicity, as the man says.

Oh, and just for the record, this response is ridiculous. No one was more disappointed in and surprised by the US performance against the Czechs as I was, but there's no reason to write off the team after a single game. People who know the game and this team well understood what a tall order this group was, and should have expected that the US could play well--better, even than they did in 2002--and still go out after group play. The Czechs looked excellent on Monday and likely would have beaten any other team in the world on that day (albeit not as comprehensively as they defeated the US).

Even more irritating is the response by uninformed watchers that the single loss confirms our soccer inferiority. For one thing, no one who understood anything about the game actually thought we merited our FIFA ranking of #5 in the world. If anything, most informed observers thought the inflated ranking was a mere distraction that would only add unneeded pressure. The US is a good--not great--team that has performed well over the past four years and has rightly earned respect as a formidable side. A single bad game doesn't negate this. It's very common that good teams simply have bad world cups (or bad games in the World Cup). Ukraine was the first team to qualify out of Europe and they have one of the world's best players in Andriy Schevchenko--yet they lost ignominiously to Spain yesterday, 4-0.

These things happen, and when they do, the national press of the disappointed country reacts with hysteria and rage. Just like ours has in the past week. We've arrived, baby.

GER 1:0 POL @ Berlin fanfest

2006-06-15T12:41:00.000-04:00

So the big news in Germany yesterday was the game against Poland, which I watched with some natives at the FIFA fanfest here in Berlin. Out of deference to my hosts, I pulled for the home side, wore the right colors (white shirt, black shorts), and even allowed a large, sloppy German flag to be drawn on my face. (Word to the wise about the face paint, by the way: it can get kind of itchy, leading you to want to scratch your face, leading your well-crafted flag to end up looking like an abstract but patriotic painting.)

Truth be told, rooting for Germany proved a bit of a difficult task for me. I’ve never really felt much of anything for German soccer (save for some necessary admiration). There has always seemed to me something about their undeniable precision and consistent success that makes it hard to feel much emotion for or against them. Rooting for Germany to win seems to me like rooting for a Deutschebahn train to arrive on schedule.

But from an ethnographic perspective, last night proved really interesting. The Berlin fanfest is an vast venue, with five big-screen (more like enormous-screen) monitors, and while we got there an hour or so ahead of time, our vantage point placed us several hundred feet back from the nearest screen. The intensity of the support is what you might imagine: a mass of humanity hanging on every kick through every second of the game. The best analogy to American sports would be college football or March madness, which possesses an authentic passion that lacks in the popular but overly commercial pro leagues (even the NFL). But what makes soccer different is the constancy of its rhythm: the clock never stops in either half, and while the oft-repeated observation that soccer has nonstop action isn’t quite right (there are frequent whistles leading to stoppages of play), there are nothing like the frequent time-outs and extended pauses that one finds in basketball or football. (Leading one British friend to ask me a propos of the latter how I could watch that “dead boring shite.”).

I also found surprising the not insignificant presence of Polish supporters at the fanfest. At the outset of the game, when the flag-waving was at its peak, red-and-white flags seemed to approach German ones in number. My casual empiricism suggests there were nothing like as many Polish as Germans there, but they made a much bigger impression per person. All-star status has to go to the Polish girl who sat on some guy’s shoulders and waved a large flag attached to a tree branch the whole game. It was the most impressive display of upper-body strength I’ve ever seen in a woman. My arms felt tired just watching her. If it were thirty years ago, she’d have been snapped up for the Polish olympic team in a second and made a defensewoman for the national ice hockey team or some other role where her burliness would have served her fatherland well.

And the game itself was, of course, a great success in the end, as Oliver Neuville re-reprised his role as super-sub, coming in to score a late goal that clinched both a 1-0 win for Germany and qualification for the next round. It was nothing less than the hosts—who had been very unlucky not to score earlier—deserved, and was met with predictable delirium. And neither then nor in the celebratory aftermath throughout Berlin did I see anything like violence between Germans and Poles. There was plenty of flag-waving (Germans triumphantly, Poles defiantly) but no aggro. Of course, this morning on the Deutschenews there were vids galore of police beating down supporters and supporters beating down each other, but my impression was that these incidents represented by far the exception rather than the rule.

{Pic #1: flags galore wave at the Berlin fanfest as GER-POL kicks off.}

{Pic #2: Berlin Girl and DF after the big win; note messed-up German flag on my face.}

Status report

2006-06-14T11:45:00.000-04:00

Whew. Catching up on the events of the past few days proved more grueling that I'd imagined. But now I'm up to speed and can catch my breath. So what's on for DF? As you're doubtless aware, I'm in Berlin now, where I've lucked into a free place to stay in a fancified hotel near the Kurfurstendamm area.

Plans for later include taking in the Germany-Poland match in the fanfest area that spans the way between the Victory Column and the Brandenburg Gate in the company of a German friend. It's going to be hard for me to root for either team, since I simply have no loyalty toward either, but I'll be pulling for the Teutons because I'm such a go along to get along kind of guy.

The WC scene is a great one. Last night I wandered around the area a bit with Web Guy and ran into many Croats lamenting their loss and Tunisians getting excited about their upcoming game against Saudi Arabia (truly a clash of minnows--the vagaries of the draw still frustrate me). I met a Ghanaian and was surprised to hear Tupac's California Love play at an outdoor disco. It all closed down at 2am, which seemed really early, even for a weeknight. Now off for a brat or three and the beginning of the Saudi-Tunisia game.

Fun v. unbelievably annoying fan conduct: a typology

2006-06-14T11:19:00.000-04:00

So much of what makes the World Cup fun has to do with the fans. The crowds, the craziness, the wacky outfits, the carnivalesque atmosphere. But I have one serious beef with the received wisdom of what's cool for fans to do, and it's this: earsplittingly loud noises are not fun. They are annoying. They are so very, very annoying and if you can't think of anything more creative than to blow a damn whistle or set off a high-decibel airhorn, then I beseech you to reconsider your noisemaker of choice or (perhaps better) just keep it quiet.

Lest I seem horribly fogeyish about this ("keep that infernal racket down, you consarned whippersnappers") allow me to illustrate with my fave example and the one that inspire this post. Last night at the Brazil game, I had the misfortune to be standing in a concession line directly in front of a Brazilian gentleman who had brought a whistle to the game. We all know what whistles sound like: they are loud. So very, very loud. They penetrate into your animal brain and trigger a desperate fight-or-flight response. And they grow ever louder as the whistler increases the ferocity with which he whistles. All this is to say that behind me, for all twenty minutes during which I was waiting in line, this Brazlian man blew his police whistle at the highest possible volume, approximately two feet from my now-dysfunctional ears. He did this over and over and over again, pausing only long enough to give me hope that he'd stop, and then just when I'd let my guard down, he'd whistle again. And again. And again. At one point I beseeched him to stop (in gesture form--pointing at my ears and then making a hands-folded prayer gesture). His response? To lean in closer and re-whistle.

So in the unlikely event that my noiseur or any of his like-minded compatriots are reading this entry, here's the point: merely making a horribly loud noise is not, in itself, fun (unless, of course, you're a six-year-old child or have the mentality of one, which may explain a lot about the prevalence of its use here). Nor is it cool or interesting, and it's certainly not necessary. Singing your nation's songs is a distinctive and creative way to show your support; chanting is simpler but still great. Low-key noisemakers are no problem at all. Crazy outfits and general merry-making are the stuff that makes the tournament great. But otherwise, here's a good rule of thumb: when a device is designed for civil or personal emergencies (e.g., thwarting a rape or alerting the populace about an air raid) then it's not fun. It's just horribly horribly irritating. So for the love of God, and in the interest of getting us all out of here with some scintilla of sanity and/or hearing left, give it a rest. You consarned whippersnappers.

BRA 1:0 CRO

2006-06-14T11:08:00.000-04:00

Seeing Brazil—-particularly this version of Brazil—-play live in the World Cup is an unparalleled experience for the soccer obsessive. Last night I checked this experience off my life list, seeing the Samba Kings dispatch (effortfully) a stout Croatia side, 1-0, in a sold-out Olympiastadion in Berlin (72k in attendance). Enough has been written about the game that I won’t repeat any of it here. Rather, I want to write about the experience of seeing Brazil in person at the World Cup.

First, the scenes of craziness you’ve seen on TV accurately reflect what the actual game is like. Twas a sea of bizarre green-yellow-and-blue accoutrements, some of which were elaborate (the dude dressed up as a Brazilian lion-man replete with green-and-yellow mane), while others impressed by virtue of their, um, simpicity (a statuesque woman whose outfit consisted of three cocktail-napkin sized swatches of Brazil-colored fabric, precariously attached by the least bit of string). Throughout, lesser costumes pervaded, of which the most popular seemed to be hairpieces: either a Brazil-colored afro wig or faux-hawk. For my part, I wore the only relevant clothing I brought: a green shirt with the phrase “Jamaican me crazy” in yellow (it seemed to convince the German people there I was Brazilian though—the ticket takers and concession folks greeted me with “bom dia” before the standard conversation in English ensued).

As I got to my seat, I looked around and was pleased to find myself located on the edge of the Brazilian curva of the stadium. I had been concerned that I would be surrounded by a sea of angry drunken Croats. Then, as I sat waiting for the game to start, the seats around me filled with—you can guess it—angry, drunken Croats (again, see pic). Well, to be fair, reasonably well-behaved Croats, but still, it kind of freaked me out, especially since I’d resolved to have a conflict-free World Cup. Eventually, though, a few Brazil supporters appeared here and there, reassuring me a bit, but I remained fairly subdued throughout, even when Brazil went ahead 1-0.

The fans themselves impressed not so much because they did anything unusual or elaborate, the way British fans often have funny and creative terrace songs (rather, they mostly just chanted the standard “Bra-zil” *clap clap clap*). Rather, it was the sheer numbers and energy (and, related, volume) that made such a powerful impression. When Kaka scored the golaco that turned out to be the difference in the game, the response was deafening in a literal sense—it took me a while before my ears stopped ringing and I could hear clearly again.

Of course, there were times when things slowed down (especially in the increasingly defensive second half) and the Brazilian fans grew quiet. It was in these moments that the Croatians really impressed me—I think it has to be said that over the course of the second half they were the louder and more impressive of the two fan groups. As the game wore on, and Brazil (and their fans) grew tired, it seemed that Croatia (spurred on by enormous enthusiasm from their supporters) got stronger, and easily could have tied the game (Croat forward Dado Prso seemed to me the best player on the field for either side, although he didn’t end up scoring a goal).

Two more observations about the game: First, in about the 75th minute, a Croatian fan decked out in all manner of national colors managed to negotiate both the moat that surrounded the stadium and the burly Teutonic guards who surrounded the pitch and appeared on the field, cavorting crazily to cheers from the Croatian supporters (and, surprisingly, no whistles from the Brazilian fans). He was out there for a couple minutes, doing his thing, then eventually approached Dado Prso and kind of knelt down and hugged the forward’s feet. Then Prso brought the fan upright, put his arm around him, and escorted him off the field, where he handed him over to the German police. Please note: during this entire time, no policeman touched the fan. He could have been a terrorist or some crazy looking to attack a player, but the police just stood and watched. More amazing, Prso didn’t run the other way from the guy but actually seemed to sympathize with him, even protecting him as they walked off the field, which seems to have led the Berlin police to have treated him with kid gloves. In the US, that guy would have been pinned to the turf instantaneously and dragged away in a brutal headlock, then placed in jail for an indefinite term. I honestly thought the Germans—no strangers to a bit of brutality, after all—would take a similar approach. But I guess we’re the world leader in this respect too. USA! USA!

Finally, I’m not even sure what to make of the following: about an hour before the game, a wealthy, well-fed looking German man came into my section along with his very pretty but also very young daughter, who was tricked out in Brazil-themed bikini top and boy shorts that left almost nothing to the imagination. They walked down to the very first row where she stepped one leg up on the railing and proceeded to wave a Brazil flag to get the attention of the assembled photogs (who flocked over immediately upon seeing her). A ten-minute photo shot of increasing suggestiveness ensued, by the end of which the girl was using the pole in ways that could have given new ideas to even the most experienced American strippers. I wasn’t sure if I should have called child services or given her a tip (so I ended up doing both).

{Pic 1: DF in pseudo-Brazilwear, standing a bit uneasily amid a sea of checkered Croats. The woman whose tiny head you can just see above me and to my right is Janica Kostelic, Croatian Olympic skiing gold medalist.}

{Pic 2: The Brazil supporters section during lineup announcements.}

USA-CZE III: the fans

2006-06-13T19:12:00.000-04:00

I didn’t really know what to expect when I got to Gelsenkirchen on Monday afternoon, but what I found shocked and inspired me: the entire town center teeming with singing, drinking, exuberant US soccer fans. By way of background, I’ve long considered my affection for soccer to be kind of a rogue taste, and am used to being one of three people in a bar watching a game or the only person in my group of friends or workplace who’s into the sport. And I’ve long looked with envy on people whose nations go nuts for the World Cup, in contrast to the US where even the 2002 victory over Mexico in the Round of 16 made little dent in the cultural consciousness.

I’m not sure what the scene was like in France or Korea, but in G-town, the US fan presence looked like what I’d always imagined one would see from the big countries like Italy or Germany. The NYC fans I met at the train station in Frankfurt told me that the meetup spot for US fans was a place called the Hibernian pub, and by the time I got there at 1.30pm (for a 6pm game), the pub was full of supporters, who had spilled out into the town square in front of the Hibernian and were in full song, literally (see pic).

There were easily hundreds in the town square singing song after song, accompanied by photogs and news cameras. (US fans a news item? Apparently so.) We even had our own crazy eccentric figures: a couple full-on Uncle Sams w/big fake beards, a bunch of dudes in afro wigs dressed like the Harlem Globetrotters, and many, many Elvises (or is the plural Elvi?). And also to my surprise, the US presence in the town center definitely overbore the Czech one. There were plenty of Czechs there, but they didn’t make nearly the kind of impression in terms of noise, numbers, or style that the US fans did. It felt like a watershed moment to me; the day when America’s fans arrived on the world stage (too bad the same couldn’t be said of their team).

The only down note I’d attribute to US supporters relates in part to a group of fifteen or so skinhead England fans who staked out a spot in an outdoor pub terrace (replete with de rigeur Cross of St. George) and did the standard Brit-thug thing. (Shirts off to expose enormous beer guts, postures of langorous aggression to give off that “ready to fight anyone who looks at me cockeyed and is also smaller than me” vibe.) The closest American analog I can think of is motorcycle thugs (and not a cool James Dean “Rebel Without a Cause” biker, but rather a fat, mean Hell’s Angel whose hobbies include quaaludes and date rape). Of course, hools will be hools (and to be fair, these guys did not try to start any shit) but what got under my skin was that a couple really cute girls decked out in US regalia approached the England dudes to chat them up. Seeing the US girls with the fat thugs made me feel what it must be like to have a little sister when she goes through the standard late-teenage “date an edgy scumbag” phase. Yellow card to these American gals.

Of course, the way the US played in that game didn’t do our growing following any favors, and may have set the cause of soccer in this nation back a ways. It’s one thing to fly across the globe to see your great team win (Brazilians do this with regularity); it’s still appealing to shell out for international travel to see your hard-battling national team play well but go out with dignity to superior competition; but it’s really hard to think of a reason to pay that much money and go through that much trouble to see your team play poorly and lose badly.

The other problem is that most Americans approach the game with the prior that the US sucks, so it’s very very hard to convince people that our soccer team is any good, while the casual followers interpret even the slightest bump in the road as confirmation of our essential crappiness. Thus a bad WC will tend to drive away more fans than a good WC will draw in.

Finally, though, let me say this: the Czech fans were a class act all the way. Not one of them acted lame (by which I mean violent or particularly obnoxious) before the game when they were outnumbered by US fans and generally looking kind of dejected about it. On the contrary, I saw plenty of US and Czech fans taking pics together, disproving the notion that support for your national team and antipathy for its opponents are necessary correlates. And during and after the game, the Czechs were just, well, happy. They celebrated the goals, sang for their team, and took off. No one taunted US fans (that I saw, anyway) or tried to start a fight or broke windows in the town center. There may have been incidents, but from what I saw, they were by far the exception rather than the rule.

{Pic: US fans in full voice outside the Hibernian pub in Gelsenkirchen town center.}

USA-CZE II: the game

2006-06-13T11:55:00.001-04:00

You’ve seen the result so I won’t say anything about that. I’ll just pose one metaphysical question: it’s a given that tragedy plus time equals comedy, but how much time will it take for yesterday’s tragedy to seem anything other than the embarrassing unmitigated disaster it was? I have a very hard time imagining myself laughing at that memory.

I’ll make only one substantive note about the game: it’s not true, as many have said, that the US is constitutionally incapable of playing big, burly central European teams well. On the contrary, one of the best games we played was the 1-0 loss to Germany in the quarters of the last WC. I think the more salient point is that when we go down an early goal, especially to world class competition, we tend to fall apart.

Last WC, our big wins were punctuated by early goals, and the tie against South Korea also featured us scoring first (and in the first half). But when we gave up a goal early against Poland, we fell to pieces, losing almost as badly as we did yesterday. I don’t know how much of this is psychological and how much is strategic, but I suspect that as usual there’s some of each at play. This team tends to be insecure, so an early goal by a strong team shakes our confidence and makes us play scared and tentative. But also, when a particularly strong team goes up early on us and then bunkers in defensively, we don’t seem to have the patience and technical skill necessary to hold the ball, pass it crisply in small spaces, and break down their D.

So this sets up the following scenario: we need a miracle against Italy or we’re as good as done. Vamos a ver.

{Pic: Czech fans celebrate Jan Koller's early goal as dejected US players trudge back to the center circle.}

USA-CZE I: the kindness of strangers

2006-06-13T11:55:00.000-04:00

So I think the best way to give a chronology of yesterday’s events is by focusing on the unlikely and memorable skein of interactions I had with total strangers—many of whom helped me out for no real reason other than human decency—from the start to the end of the day. This lies in sharp contrast (as many of the loyal Broad Readership will doubtless recall) with my experience in Zentraleuropa last summer, when I met hardly anyone on the road (which could have had something to do with my wanting the experience to be a solitary one and spending the whole time with my nose buried in one book or another).

By the way, some brief background to set the scene. After talking to Web Guy, it became clear that he, my friend in Berlin (hereinafter Berlin Girl) and others were on the road to G-town and that I was to meet them. The main hurdle I had to, um, hurdle was that I’d already checked my bag through to Berlin. So I returned to Frankfurt airport and told them I wouldn’t be on the flight but that they should keep the bag on the plane and I’d pick it up at Tegel the next day.

It turns out that this is a classic terrorist tactic that airlines have been wise to since the 70s, so the agent looked on my suggestion with more than a little suspicion. Turns out what they had to do was take the bag off the plane and deliver it to me, where I could enjoy toting all 103 pounds of it to G-town and then aaaall the damn way back to Berlin (which proved to be unpleasant but ultimately manageable thanks to a very kind call center owner in Gelsenkirchen).

So instead of waiting for my flight to Berlin, I found myself on a train platform in Frankfurt, bound for Gelsenkirchen via Duisburg. At this point I’d had zero hours of sleep on Sunday night and only about four on Saturday, so I was to say the least punchy. And in this mental state I apparently developed the opinion that it would be a great idea to simply approach random groups of fans and integrate myself in with them.

Which is exactly what I did on the platform in Frankfurt, joining up with a crew from New York, all of whom wore those enormous Uncle-Sam style stovepipe hats in red, white, and blue. They were headed a different way but it turned out that one of their number was a solo traveler: a really nice guy from Atlanta, about 60, named Richard. We hopped the train to G-town and once there he saved my ass by watching my bags as I went around the train station, sadly discovering that all the lockers had been taken.

We parted ways shortly after that—he wanted to see the town, I wanted nothing more than to drop off aforementioned bag—and after that I wandered G-town for a while, taking in what proved to be an unexpectedly electric atmosphere and taking full advantage of my current two-week departure from vegetarianism by chowing down an obscene number of bratwursts (so. good.).

But then it came time to head to the stadium, and I thought I’d allowed plenty of time to get there (two hours). On the way to the trains, I caught up with two older fans (mid-40s) who were enormously drunk but who clearly knew where they were going. We bonded over being from SoCal (one of them was draped with a California state flag—a nice touch that I wish I’d thought to bring), and the three of us entered the train station. My plan was to follow them in a very literal sense: they’d use their girth (fueled by what appeared to be an enormous amount of booze) to push through the crowds and I’d follow behind, earning a much-coveted spot on the train to the stadium. But even their intoxicated aggression wasn’t enough, as the crowds overwhelmed the trains, and the terrified conductors typically closed the doors well before the cars were full, allowing them to escape what was a pretty grim and not just vaguely dangerous scene (it made me realize how horrible crowd disasters happen—if there had been a stampede or a collapse of some sort there would have been no way out). The LA guys regaled me with stories about previous WCs (this was their fourth), and one of them told me that he’d outsmarted drug-sniffing dogs on the train from Geneva by storing weed in mustard.

But at this point it became clear that waiting for the trains guaranteed missing kickoff, so I headed out of there with a group of four US (and, heroically, Metro) fans out of NYC who planned to walk to the stadium. Looking back, as the one sober one in the group I should have realized that trusting four intoxicated New Yorkers about the wisdom of walking anyplace was unwise, but they seemed sincere and convincing, and I wasn’t really loving the sweaty mass of increasingly angry humanity on the subway platform, so there I was. We got about three blocks north of the city center when we realized we’d miscalculated. I got from a local that the distance between the city center and the arena was unwalkable (well over 10km, I later learned), and there we were. Taxis were rare and all full, and my one attempt to ask a couple German girls for a ride in their car was rejected (with a suspiciously fluent-sounding “we’re sorry but we don’t possess the ability to comprehend either your question in particular or the English language more generally”).

At this point, when I really began to fear that we’d never make it to the stadium, a miracle happened: a US fan stopped near us in an otherwise empty car. We asked for a ride, he graciously offered one, and off we went; sort of. There were five of us (me + the NYers) and that meant someone had to go in the trunk. In an act of astonishing kindness, they ceded the comfortable front seat to me, squeezed into the back, and stuck one of their group in the trunk. So we rolled on with this random US fan/gift from God, who was from Seattle, had no tickets, and was hoping to scalp once he got to the arena. He even let me use his cellphone to call Berlin Girl and update her on my whereabouts. Eventually the traffic slowed to a crawl and we piled out to walk the rest of the way (which turned out to be a not inconsiderable 2+ km).

The walk to the stadium took us through rural landscapes that, while arrestingly beautiful, did not reassure me that we were approaching a 52k-seat sports arena. But eventually, when all hope began to fail, and fatigue was setting in, the Arena auf Schalke appeared on the horizon and it became clear that we’d make the kickoff. Or at least that they would. Recall, Broad Readership, that at this point I still had to find my Berliner compatriots in a sea of humanity in a foreign city and hope that this whole “Hey DF, ditch your flight and head to a random place to meet us” thing wasn’t a major hoax. One of the NYC crew let me use her cellphone to call Berlin girl and we made a plan to meet near the Green entrance. This was great, except that I had followed my group to the Yellow entrance on the other side of the stadium.

At this point I became like OJ in the airport, by which I do not mean that I killed my ex-wife and her possible lover, was acquitted, and spent the rest of my life golfing in Florida, but rather that I took off on a dead sprint around the disappointingly vast circumference of the stadium. (Of course, the German girl who was checking tickets at the Yellow area could have let me take a convenient shortcut, but I’ll let you guess whether she did me any favors.) So I sprinted, dead uphill, to the Yellow area where I then climbed a hill above it to scope out Web Guy and Berlin Girl. Yet another random person let me use his cellphone to call BG and it was on. I was on the grassy knoll, WG and BG were rounding the Texas School Book Depository, and you can guess the rest.

The less said about the game the better (I’ll say a little about it later when I haven’t just eaten and the chances of me hurling are slimmer), but I got in my seats just in time for the Koller goal. Then Web Guy’s friend gave me a ride back to the train station in her rented Audi (she could afford to be generous, she was Czech). As I waited on the platform, a German guy and his Brazilian wife came up to me and he started talking soccer. As I lamented the USA’s performance, it became clear that his wife wasn’t really following the convo, so (language snob alert) I immediately broke into Spanish, which it turned out they both spoke fluently. We chatted for a while til my train came and it was a fairly emblematic WC moment: a German guy, his Brazilian wife, and this ugly American, all conversing about the beautiful game en Espanol.

The ride back to Berlin was a bit grim, as the train was full of sad, exhausted US fans such as myself. It was going on Tuesday morning, and since Saturday I’d gotten about four hours of sleep all told (not that impressive, but I’m a sleep wuss, so this was pretty much uncharted territory). A chatty Italian guy sat next to me on the final leg of the ride, having just seen his team beat Ghana 2-0. He mostly talked at me in shaky English because I was half-asleep by this point. And when I got to Berlin Hauptbahnhof it was like three in the morning and I had no idea how to get to my hotel. And at that moment, I found exactly what one would want to at that moment: two drunk Scotsmen. I told them what hotel I was at and they were all like “Ah, crap, yer comin in a cab with us then.” And so I did. We discussed a mutual fave topic (the English are acting insufferable again) and then I was at the Concorde, where I fell into a comatose sleep that didn’t end until two thirty this afternoon (and even then only when a maid had barged in shouting “housekeeping” for the fifteenth goddamn time).

So to recap: Frankfurt aiport fiasco --> four NYC fans in crazy US hats --> Richard from Atlanta --> DF wandering solo in G-town --> two burly Angelenos --> four more NYC folks --> miraculous Seattle US fan w/car --> Web Guy and Berlin Girl --> WG’s Czech friends --> German guy and Brazilian wife --> chatty Italian --> two drunk Scotsmen --> DF sleeps like the dead. Good times.

{Pic: DF with Web Guy and Berlin Girl at the Arena auf Schalke for USA-CZE match.}

Der change of plans

2006-06-13T10:27:00.000-04:00

There’s nothing more enjoyable than arriving in a foreign city and getting an email entitled “Call me immediately—urgent!” As the sender of this email was also the person with whom I was going to stay in Berlin thanks to his employment by a reasonably well known internet concern, the worrisome missive set off all kinds of alarm bells. I imagined that aforementioned amigo had been tomahawk-chopped by a semi while absentmindedly crossing the street, or that German authorities had placed me on the ten most wanted hooligans list, subjecting me to instantaneous deportation, arrest, and/or extended torture tickling.

But twas not the case, as I learned over the course of a very expensive credit-card conversation with web guy in Frankfurt Hauptwache. On the contrary, he had acquired tickets to see the US play the Czechs that night in Gelsenkirchen, including an extra for me. All I had to do was make my way to above-referenced city and meet up with them at the Arena auf Schalke that evening and I’d be in attendance at the American WC opener rather than watching it on TV from location slightly more proximate to the game itself than my apartment.

And that, B.R., is how began yesterday, one of the strangest and almost certainly one of the longest days of my life. Rather than write one long post, I’ve decided instead to break it down into several topical subposts w/pix. Watch this space, y’all, and it’ll be like you were there with me for all of the going on three days I’ve been consecutively awake (and which have led me to employ foregoing awful syntax).

{Original time of writing: 2-5am, Tuesday June 13.}

Frankfurt: not as delicious as the name suggests

2006-06-13T08:59:00.000-04:00

As the broad readership may well know, international flights are just barely less unpleasant than getting a colonoscopy and a root canal at the same time. Spending eight hours cramped into a tiny space with the worst possible Hollywood drivel for entertainment is no one's idea of fun (unless, like me, you're an aficionado of the "Momma's House" series).

But I've got to say this was the second-best international flight I've ever experienced (the first by a long way was flying from LA to Melbourne in business class when I was like the only person in the upstairs cabin of a 747--it was like being the Dalai Lama and the Sultan of Brunei all rolled into one).

Yet this time around the plane (an inauspiciously named Airbus) was quite spacious and comfortable. There's also a feature that allows you to select your own movies (I watched Momma's House like four times). And the guy in the seat next to me was even skinnier than I am (plus, I noticed on the way in that the two fattest people on the plane were seated next to each other in the same two-person coach class row in a brilliant moment of karmic justice--the one on the outside literally had to lean out into the aisle thanks to their collective girth).

Now it didn't thrill me that I couldn't cut down on my six-hour layover in Frankfurt (where I am now), but that's afforded me the chance to come into the downtown area of the city and look around, which has been, well, not that great really. But despite staying up all night I'm juiced on travel adrenaline and not even that much caffeine.

Now got to run; my wireless time here in Frankfurt Hauptwache is about to run out (yeah, I'm at a Starbucks, what of it?).

{Original time of writing: 7am, Sunday June 12.}

Peter Crouch, I stand corrected

2006-06-09T23:46:00.000-04:00

I've done my share of travel in Europe, even living there for a summer, and in that time I developed a number of opinions that I heretoforethought were ironclad in their validity. Among them: Europeans can't dance. I'm not, of course, referring to high-end pop stars or professional eurodancers, who I'm sure can bust a move with the best of them. I'm talking about going to clubs and seeing the average Joe and Josephina doing their thing (in Spain, Holland, and England), which made me feel like a straight up dance superstar by comparison.

Then along came a man by the name of Peter Crouch and proved me wrong. This tall (6'6") drink of water has developed what is likely the most famous goal celebration in the world at the moment: the robot. The sight of England's gangly beanpole (who does, it must be admitted, have a good touch for a big man) working it on the sidelines after scoring yet another unlikely goal has captivated millions, and has made me realize that perhaps my opinion about Eurodancing was wrong. The sheer audacity of the Crouch robot beggars the imagination, and now it's come out that he honed his moves from youth and showed them off at David Beckham's pre-World Cup dance party. Check it out, y'all.

Why I'm doing this, or why I'm not (completely) insane

2006-06-08T10:50:00.000-04:00

It's ridiculous, in a way. Every moment of the World Cup will be televised, even in the US, in both low- and hi-def. One could, if they were so inclined, watch every second of the tournament from the comfort of home. And those of us who (like me) are endowed with DVR technology don't even have to disrupt their work schedule to enjoy the tournament by recording games and watching them when convenience permits.

In light of all this, one might ask, why go to Germany? It is, after all, tremendously far away (an eight-hour plane flight that I'm not at all looking forward to), expensive as hell (though I'm lucky enough to have a place to stay), and the US is likely to make an undistinguished exit considering their unlucky placement in the group of death (Czech Republic, Italy, and Ghana).

Yet on Sunday, there I'll be, uncomfortably cramped in a coach-class seat in a tin cylinder, hurtling over the Atlantic on my way to Berlin via Philly and Frankfurt, arriving just in time to see the US matched up against a Czech team loaded with more talent in one XI than the US has had in its history.

And perhaps that's just the point: despite the odds and the practical reasons not to go and the irrational choice issues, there I'll be. Being a fan is, all told, more an act of faith than a considered choice to maximize one's emotional well-being. Were this not the case, we'd all root for Brazil (though to be fair I'll be there when Brazil play Croatia in Berlin, sporting the green and yellow, with the flimsy defense against poseur status that being Portuguese somehow requires me to support the Samba Kings).

As I realized today when watching a stadium mostly full of Poland supporters become crestfallen as their pedestrian side fell to a brighter and stronger Ecuador, fifty percent of fans that spend the cash to haul their asses to the World Cup will end up disappointed as their teams exit after the first round. Yet there they are, showing up in the slim hope that their teams will surprise them (and they're there even when there's a virtual certainty that their team will be eliminated--think about the few but loyal Tunisians who went to see their team finish last in the weakest group of 2002 in Japan).

But then one has to consider the fans of, say, Senegal in 2002, who had no reason to think they were anything but making up the numbers. They flew from West Africa to Japan, despite what must have been enormous costs, just to see their team on the world's biggest stage. And once there, they were rewarded with one of the most improbable results in World Cup history: a victory over defending champ (and colonial overlord) France in the opening game. Strange and wonderful, just like life.

The oddsmakers would have US fans stay home. That's a reasonable call, and the pragmatist/pessimist in me (honed to perfection after a year at the University of Chicago) gets the point on an intellectual level. But soccer, blessedly, is nothing if not un-intellectual, so come Sunday, there I'll be, joining the millions who follow their teams in a secular act of faith unparalleled in its piousness. Glory hallelujah!

(Btw, caption on the pic: your bloggers, with mirarchi on the left and DF on the right, at the US-Jamaica Gold Cup semifinal at Foxboro in 2005).

WC throwback: DF in Washington Post, 6/5/02

2006-06-08T01:04:00.000-04:00

So I planned to watch the opening game of the 2002 World Cup between the US and Portugal at home (it was at like 4am Eastern time). I got up at quarter to four and shotgunned a huge glass of iced tea to make sure I stayed awake (though the adrenaline and nerves were enough to take care of that). Thus I was caffeinated to the gills when, in the fourth minute, John O'Brien famously scored to start what would end up being the most extraordinary half of soccer I've ever seen the US play.

But when the half ended with us leading 3-1, staying in my apartment ceased to be an option. For one thing, my downstairs neighbor had lodged a noise complaint earlier that year when I whooped it up a bit too much during a game (oddly enough, the penalty shootout we won against the Canucks in the semis of the Gold Cup in January 2002), so I had to celebrate all the US goals in total silence, especially given the early hour.

I was living in DC at the time (Woodley Park, to be exact), and I'd heard that the Diner in Adams Morgan was showing all games live. Adams is near Woodley, but not so near that you can (as I learned) run from one neighborhood to the next in the seventeen or so minutes between periods of a WC game. I booked it through the dewy DC morning the second the first-half whistle blew, and got to the Diner in about the 55th minute. There were, to my considerable surprise, crowds out the door and into the street, but somehow I managed to wedge my way into a decent viewing spot.

And not long after I got there, US centerback Jeff Agoos scored one of the all time great goals for the US--a beautiful volley on the run into the upper 90 that gave the goalie no chance. Unfortunately, his arrowed shot was into our goal, and the goalie left gaping in admiration at Agoos' skill and placement was Brad Friedel. It was about that point that a Washington Post photog snapped a shot of the fans' horrified reactions, and in that photo (posted above) you can see me right between the two girls in the foreground, hands upraised in disbelief, face red with indignation, looking crumpled and crappy thanks to the lack of sleep and the early hour.

The pic ran as the lead photo in the Washington Post online all that day, and garnered me some minor celebrity. Many friends called to mention it to me, it was emailed around my workplace, and one of the judges on the court I was clerking for at the time remarked on the irony of my working on a case about black lung disease (apparently because the pic illustrated that I lacked no lung capacity myself). The next day's print edition of the Washington Post, which had typically excellent coverage of the game, ran the pic as well alongside a great shot of McBride diving through the air to head in our third. The title of the Post's article that ran with the pics, by the way, was "American Beauty." I'm pretty sure they were referring to me.

US triumvirate

2006-06-06T10:41:00.000-04:00

Soccernet has a good article about what it sees as the three rising stars of the USMNT: Eddie Johnson, Clint Dempsey, and Oguchi Onyewu. I think Bobby Convey might be a little ticked to be left off the list, especially since he's looking as likely to start as any of these guys. The writer gets the situation basically dead-on, pointing out that each of these players have it in them to explode on the World Cup and transfer to a big European team, but that each of them have an achilles' heel (EJ's current scoring slump; Clint's mercurial nature; Gooch's questionable skills on the ball). It's nice to finally see the US getting some serious press instead of ignent fluff pieces about how a non-soccer nation's team is really quite respectable.

US 1:0 Angola

2006-06-05T16:07:00.000-04:00

Deja vu anyone? Just like in 2002, the USMNT won its closed-door pre-WC scrimmage 1-0 thanks to a McBride goal. This time the opponent was Angola not Costa Rica. Can we read anything into this? Perhaps.

The pessimistic view: The US managed only a one-goal win against possibly the weakest of the WC-qualified teams, and that after playing two-thirds of the game 11 against 10 (Angolan midfielder Loco was sent off in the 30th minute after receiving a second yellow card). This team has lost all three of its pre-WC friendlies, including a recent 3-2 loss at the hands of non-qualified side Turkey. Moreover, according to the AP article, Angola dominated the second half of the game although they didn't score. If that's the best we can do against this quality of opposition, what chance do we have against Italy, Ghana, or the Czechs?

The optimistic view: A win is a win. Plus, this is only Bruce's second win on European soil, ever. The game report itself is fuzzy, and the comment about the Angolans' second-half dominance came from their head coach, so can't be taken seriously. The AP report also suggests that Reyna looked good, which bodes well in light of his injury issues, and another goal from McBride means that our top striker looks like he's coming back on form, which was also in doubt after he seemed to slump toward the end of the EPL season with Fulham. This victory means we now have a nice three-game win streak going into group play, which should give us a bit of momentum. And remember, there's no transitive property in soccer. Just because we didn't dominate Angola (in a scrimmage, where we don't even know the lineup or players) doesn't mean we won't turn it on against the Czechs.

Update: Eddie Lewis discloses a little more about the friendly. Turns out the goal came from a McBride header on a cross from the right (doesn't say by who). Also, there were massive subs--in all, 20 guys played for the US. Thus I don't think we can read too much into it. It was really more a practice scrimmage than a friendly international.

All quiet on the German front

2006-06-02T10:34:00.000-04:00

This is a quiet, yet palpably tension-filled time. The pre-WC friendlies are over. The WC is still more than a week away (for the US at least). And while many sites, including the indefatigable USSoccer.com, are publishing daily material regarding what color the carpet was the players walked on from their private jet to the airport terminal in Hamburg (red, btw) and suchlike, the truth is: there just ain't much going on.

And thus at this site for the next few days, there won't be much going on either. I've got a ton of work to finish before I can go to Germany, and that takes priority over blogging. Finishing it will also free me up to be writing maximally during the WC itself, when this blog will feature not only obsessive soccer analysis but also firsthand accounts of being in Berlin (and Kaiserslautern, and Nuernberg, and possibly Duesseldorf as well) for the WC.

What awaits in the interim? Well, I for one am very interested to see how the US get on in their June 5 friendly game against Angola. Most people are writing the Angolans off, but in my opinion they're not unlike Senegal v.02: a previously unknown team populated by players from a second-tier European league (Portugal, in this case, rather than France). I think it'll be a challenging test, and a good barometer of how we're doing (especially in terms of goal scoring).

And if unlike me you're just biding your time til then you might want to check out this weird but interesting site to distract from the unbearable tension: the Official Global Philips FIFA World Cup Preparation Center (or Philips' O.G.P.F.W.C.P.C. for short). It's got all kinds of simple but engrossing video games you can play online (including a fun free-kick one that promises hours of by-yourself enjoyment). But as for me, I've got to work. So I'll see you all on 6/5, to reveal the deets of the closed scrimmage with Angola that I will derive from all my secret sources.

Two worthy blogroll additions

2006-05-26T00:25:00.000-04:00

The latest additions to the blogroll are well worth reading. Both Who Ate All the Bratwurst? and The Daily Header offer WC commentary leavened with a healthy dose of satire--a much needed angle in the tension-filled days leading up to the mundial itself. Check 'em out y'all.

Berhalter to replace injured Gibbs on US WC roster

2006-05-25T20:09:00.000-04:00

Come down off that ledge, USMNT fans. This isn't great news (okay, it's really bad news). But ultimately, I think this will work out OK. We've lost Cory Gibbs to a right knee injury, and now Gregg Berhalter is coming in to replace him. Let's sort through the issues one by one:

First, is the loss of Gibbs at left back devastating? Probably not. I think Bruce was planning on going with Pope and Gooch as CBs, and then possibly using Cory or Eddie Lewis at left back. However, now it's much more likely that if we break out a flat back four we'll see Eddie Lewis on the left flank. That's a bit risky, because he's not a natural defender, and he lacks size, but he is faster and better offensively than Gibbs, so that's a plus.

The real concern would be if we were looking to use a three-man backline. I think the Pope/Gooch/Gibbs combination would have been great there. Now that will look like Pope/Gooch/Berhalter (or Conrad), which I'm less thrilled with. But it's not a disaster, because

Second, Berhalter is a very solid defender. He played poorly against Germany in the 4-1 loss, and he's had more than his share of gaffes (I bet he got a really nice thank you note from Adriano for that gift of a goal he gave the Brazilian back in the 2003 Confeds Cup). He also captained his 2.Bundesliga side to promotion and scored the promotion-clinching goal in the process. So having him in there is no disaster. It does mean we're more likely to see Jimmy Conrad, though, since Bruce was clearly more enthused about him.

But finally, this is just awful news for Gibbs. According to ussoccer.com, he injured the knee at some unspecified time during the Morocco match, which may be good news, since the knock wasn't drastic enough to put him right out of the game. But while we don't know how serious the injury is, knee injuries are never great, and now Gibbs is looking injury-prone, which makes him less attractive to clubs. Of course, he's already signed for Charlton, so that's not an immediate concern, but still, it's a real disappointment. I hope the injury is minor and that he gets over it as soon as possible.

Good news about Reyna injury?

2006-05-24T14:57:00.000-04:00

The early reports are that Reyna suffered no significant muscle damage in his right hamstring last night against Morocco. A recent scan on Claudio's hammy showed "no serious damage" and US officials report that the prognosis is good. Reyna seems happy about the situation as well, calling the result "very good news."

But is it? Mooch Myernick doesn't seem so positive about the situation, stating flatly that Reyna "will be out for an extended period of time." That sounds WC-threatening to me, and also inconsistent with the other, more sanguine reports.

Moreover, while Captain America is, well, our captain, I've never been convinced that we're necessarily that much better off with him in the lineup. This is true, at least, when Mastroeni can step in and give us a performance like he did last night. I don't think we lost much if anything with Pablo in there that we would have had with Claudio in the same position. I'm no Reyna-hater and I'd slot him in at D-mid if healthy, but there are other players who I think are a lot more irreplaceable.

Props to Nashville

2006-05-24T12:07:00.000-04:00

Sometimes it's great to be wrong. I thought this game would be an attendance disaster: midweek date in a mid-size town not known for its love for soccer at the same time as some country music awards. But despite that, over 26k showed up, filling the lower bowl, and most importantly represented big-time for the US with a loud, boisterous, and colorful atmosphere. (By contrast, the first SOS game in 2002 was in DC on a Sunday afternoon and drew about 30k, most of whom supported Uruguay.) I only wish the team had rewarded the fans for their great presence with a better result.

This makes me rethink my original criticism of the Send-Off Series locations. If it turns out that Cleveland and Hartford get as much of a draw as Nashville, then perhaps it's better to spread these games around the country to let everyone get a chance to see the team. At the end of the day, what I'm rooting for is for US soccer to grow as much as possible, so if that means I can't attend a game but on-balance it's good for the team to get visibility in the southeast or the rust belt, then so be it. We'll see how many people show for the game against Valenzuela on Friday night.

US 0-1 Morocco

2006-05-24T10:47:00.000-04:00

Some disjointed thoughts on the USMNT's first loss on home soil in four years (US 0:2 Netherlands, SOS for WC02).

--We didn't get outplayed so much as out-thought. Morocco had a game plan that underdogs everywhere employ: mass the D, absorb the attacks, and strike on the counter. It worked for them, just like it worked for Ali in Kinshasa. We got rope a dope'd.

--Credit to Maroc for executing their game plan well, including tenacious D and taking the chance that fell to them late. They played some nice, highly technical ball throughout that got us frustrated and ended up leaving us too tired to defend well at the end.

--At about minute 65, I noted that the second half was looking frantic. The US was playing fast and making some inroads, but was ultimately disorganized. The final ball just wasn't there. Flashbacks to the awful 2-3 loss to Hondo in WCQ 01, where Bruce famously compared the MNT to chickens with their heads cut off. Not quite that bad, but the lack of coherence in attack wasn't encouraging.

--The "step slow" award has to go to McBride. He kept mistiming headers, he couldn't get his shots on goal, and he gave the ball away when he needed to hold it. I'm concerned that his age combined with his grueling season with Fulham has left him too slow and tired for World Cup play; and Bruce is married to the idea of starting him at forward (not a terrible idea in the absence of compelling options).

--The other player who's expected to come up big but didn't impress was Gooch. He did a solid job on defense, but had nothing like the monster game he's capable of. Plus, he (along with McB) lost a Moroccan in the box to gift them the kind of chance that Jan Koller or Luca Toni or Michael Essien will definitely put away. And I wasn't thrilled that he clumsily fouled in the second half to set up a very dangerous FK--the kind that Del Piero or Nedved will score on a good percentage of the time.

--I was encouraged though by JOB. He played damn well, got into some defensive tackles without getting hurt (fingers crossed, as always), and had three or so genius passes (that our forwards kept missing, dammit). He's doing about as well as can be expected given his injuries.

--As far as second-half subs go, Convey as always provided spark, though he was sloppy with the ball at times. Dempsey did not impress, though he didn't really have that much time to get into the game. EJ didn't have much to work with EXCEPT a free header in the box that he has to put away. You can't leave that kind of chance on the table in the WC. That was our best opportunity and probably the most frustrating point of the game for me.

--The LD-led offensive buildup was pretty good, at times very good, but LD tends to get caught between passing and shooting much of the time when he should just do the latter. Several times there were too many passes in the box when I wish LD or whoever else would just have pulled the trigger. Dinking the ball around for the perfect opening always gives the opponent enough time to get back and kick it into touch.

--For all the talk about Reyna's injury as a horrible thing (though its scale is as yet unclear I think), did anyone think we got any weaker as a unit with Pablo in there? I don't think it looked like we were missing Claudio at all.

--All this said, I don't think the game was a disaster. It's clear we still have much to work on, especially offensively, but if it's merely coherence as a unit that we seek, that can come together in the next three weeks. A couple good results against Valenzuela and the Lats and we'll be right back on track.

All signs positive for US

2006-05-22T22:44:00.000-04:00

If you're at all interested in the US men's national soccer team, you owe it to yourself to read this excellent article from Soccernet reporter Ives Galarcep. It's not only a key source of information into the otherwise-opaque haps in the just-concluded Cary, NC camp, but it's also cause for serious optimism if Galarcep's take is to be trusted (though I've been skeptical of his reporting in the past--remember his unsubstantiated assertion that EJ was released by Dallas because he was poisonous in the locker room?).

According to Galarcep, "Arena's squad is as healthy as he could ever have dreamed of it being," and Arena "couldn't have asked for a better two weeks of training." Want more? Well, it looks like O'Brien is playing as well as we could have hoped; he's uninjured (fingers crossed to avoid jinx) and slated to start against Morocco. Dempsey apparently had an "impressive" training camp and appears to have clinched at least super-sub, perhaps even starter status. Hell, even our forward position is looking hopeful, with Johnson apparently "every bit as impressive" as he was before the 2005 turf-toe debacle, while Ching is reportedly the most in-form striker on the roster (though not sure if this is news for rejoicing or sorrow). It doesn't appear that there are any great developments at positions where we're already strong (primarily defense), but there no news is good news.

Now let's not get carried away. After all, a good training camp gets you exactly zero points in the World Cup, and we've yet to see how the team will play against our three Send-Off Series foes. But every stage must be judged on its own terms, and by all accounts the pre-Germany camp was a great success.

The most amazing display of soccer skill ever?

2006-05-21T20:58:00.000-04:00

If you haven't seen this video of Ronaldinho juggling a ball while smacking off the crossbar four times--and never letting it touch the ground--you owe it to yourself to do so. I'm still not convinced it's real.

The myth of Morocco

2006-05-21T19:25:00.000-04:00

Yesterday during the Fire-Dynamo match Waldo was pimping the Send-Off Series, and in so doing repeated one of the most irritating misconceptions about Morocco as an opponent. The Morocco game would be useful, he claimed, because playing an African opponent would help us prepare for Ghana.

I've heard this more than once, and I can't believe people continue to try to sell this line. The mere fact of Morocco's location on the same continent at Ghana doesn't mean squat about their similarities in playing style. Historically and culturally, the two nations have very little in common with one another since they're separated by the Sahara desert. Perhaps if our opponent were Cameroon Waldo's claim would have made more sense, but even then it's not at all clear that teams from proximate countries have similar soccer styles. Can you imagine how lame it would sound if someone said "We're playing a warm-up against France to prepare us for our game against Holland"?

The truth about the Send-Off Series is that these were the best opponents the USSF could come up with under the circumstances. One can safely assume that there wasn't much choice, since most of the top teams are in the WC and it's a rough time for a friendly now that the club season has just ended. Nor are we the only country with a tough time lining up opponents. To take one example, Portugal's pre-World Cup friendlies are against the Cape Verde Islands and Luxembourg. Our SOS looks positively all-star by comparison.

So at the end of the day, the Morocco/Venezuela/Latvia trio may not seem that impressive, but it's not bad either, it'll be good practice, and I'm basically OK with it (except for the choice of venues--still baffled by that). But let's not pull a Waldo and try to make anything more out of the opponents than necessary.

Gatorade Commercial

2006-05-21T11:26:00.000-04:00

I realize that the Gatorade commercial featuring the USMNT has been out for a few weeks now, so this post is somewhat stale. But I just saw the commercial for the first time, and I think it's brilliant. In just thirty seconds, it really manages to capture international soccer fans' passionate intensity, the truly hostile atmosphere that the nats often face when they play abroad (particularly in Latin America), and the courage it must take for our players to travel to and play in such venues. The rivalries and nationalism that pervade international soccer are, in my mind, a large part of what makes the sport so much fun to follow.

One of the things I most enjoyed about the Gatorade commercial is how it shows not only the hostility of opposing teams' fans toward the U.S., but also the U.S. players' reactions to the hostility. You see EJ, Deuce, and Donovan with looks of focused determination on their faces while listening to music, trying to tune it all out. And the look on Quaranta's face as he's sitting in the lockerroom and the fans are making so much noise that the ceiling tiles are bouncing up and down is priceless.

Finally, the goals and goal celebrations at the end are awesome in the way they capture the joy and exuberance of a critical goal. The rhythm of a soccer game, where both teams can struggle for an hour or more to score while the tension builds, only to be finally released when a goal is ultimately scored, is another part of what makes the game truly the beautiful game.

So hats off to Gatorade, for a terrific commercial. I hope they show it early and often in the WC.

FIFA World Cup Fantasy Game

2006-05-19T15:33:00.000-04:00

There are some things I avoid not because I don't like them but because I know I'd enjoy them so much that they'd eat up all my time. A prime example is (was) the video game FIFA World Cup 2002. After acquiring this game in early 02, I spent most of my free time that year engaging in furious soccer telecompetition. It really did eat up huge portions of my life. Worst of all, it's not clear that I had better options. But knowing that I needed to escape the clutches of my video game addiction/obsession, I ditched my PS1 in October and have never purchased another.

Related issue: fantasy sports leagues. These are right up my alley: they're for the sports obsessive who thinks he's smart enough to outwit other sports obsessives. And these I've made a practice of avoiding for just that reason: I can so easily see myself spending all my free time analyzing players, selecting lineups, and obsessing over results.

But that doesn't mean that others who are not equally incontinent (in the Aristotelian sense) should make the same choice. And if you're so inclined, I just got tipped off about a just-released WC fantasy game that looks to be the shizz for this go-round of the mundial.

Part of the reason I'm particularly enthused about this game is that I advised one of its developers about how to make the standard fantasy-game model track onto a stat-poor sport like soccer. The result seems promising: rather than previous versions that toted up goals, this one operates on the principle that the whole lineup is relevant, so it's a better test of whole-team performance and requires that you understand what defenders are quality (rather than just strikers, whose performance is more easily measured). It's got the DFinD seal of approval, so what else do you need to know? Y'all check it out now, y'hear?

USMNT 5-0 Charleston Battery

2006-05-19T02:16:00.000-04:00

As we all know, there's an iron-clad rule of transitivity in soccer. If team A beats team B, and team B has beaten team C, then team A is necessarily better than team C. This operates along various dimensions, one of which was happily illustrated today when the US trounced the A-league Charleston Battery 5-0 in a Cary, NC scrimmage, thanks to goals from Donovan (2), Beasely, EJ, and O'Brien (from a free kick!).

How is transitivity relevant here? You may recall that in 2002, the MNT played the A-league Richmond Kickers at exactly the same stage of their WC camp and needed a late, questionably onside Earnie Stewart goal to salvage a 2-2 draw. Despite that dire portent, the US went on to enjoy great success in the Cup, reaching the quarters.

So if a 2-2 draw against an A-league team presaged our getting to the quarters, then by the transitive property a 5-0 destruction of an A-league team means we'll get to the finals at least, if not win the whole thing. You heard it here first.

(OK, I'm basically joking about this last point, but the result seems positive, especially with LD looking sharp, EJ getting a goal, and O'Brien playing and even scoring.)

UPDATE: Photo and video highlights available on ussoccer.com.

Reservation consternation

2006-05-17T14:57:00.000-04:00

Train travel in Europe is a breed apart, as I was reminded this last week when I belatedly finalized my plans to see the US play in Kaiserslautern and Nuernberg. Getting a Germany railpass was no problem, but as anyone who's traveled around the continent on trains knows, the trick is not whether you have a ticket for a given train but whether you have a seat.

Case in point: in 2002, I sought to travel to Paris from Barcelona using my Eurail pass, which seemed uncontroversial. Problem was that every other backpacker wanted to travel on the same train at the same time, so there were no reservations. After a heated conversation with a sweaty, angry Catalonian ticketing agent, I finally got to understand that I could go on the train but there was no guarantee of seating.

But I had no other option, so off I went. The first part of the trip was fine, and I even had a seat. But when we got to the French border, all hell broke loose. The train dropped us off and backed out of the station, leaving an enormous crowd of stank-ass travelers on the platform unsure of what was coming next. I was starving and fortunately ran into a couple American girls who gave me some cookies. We decided to band together for the rest of the trip.

Finally the train rolled in and opened its doors, causing several hundred backpackers to shove in at once. The girls and I were at the front and I essentially shoveled them into the door ahead of the crowd and we raced through the train looking for unreserved seats--there weren't any. Finally, we staked out a spot in some luggage racks and the train left. There were bodies everywhere--in the aisle, in all the seats, in the luggage racks, crowding the cafe car. At one point I stretched out in the aisle to sleep (it was a night train), and kept waking to find people's feet stepping inches from my face. The only good part was that the train was so crowded that no one checked my Eurail pass, meaning that it was a free trip.

After this trip I learned a lot, and since then have made a point of always getting reservations if at all necessary. This is especially true at peak travel times, such as, oh I don't know, the world's biggest sporting event. Which leads me to my efforts of earlier this week: finding space on the best trains for my trips to Germany (Berlin-Ktown, Berlin-Nuernberg). It was too late, unfortunately, to get reservations together with my traveling companions, but the good news is that we both managed to get separately booked on all the trips we wanted.

The lesson of this tale: reserve early, reserve often, unless you have some affection for sleeping in the aisle of Eurotrains. It was a great adventure but at this point I'm too old for that shite. Next up: the actual reservations and why I got them.

WC travel: Weltmeister-pass v. German railpass

2006-05-14T19:49:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, I was just about to purchase a "Weltmeister-pass" for traveling around by train at the WC. But given the exorbitant price tag (349 euros for a second-class pass), I decided to shop around a bit for alternatives. Voila, there is one: a good old German railpass, the kind that has been around for ages, still exists and is as valid as ever. More importantly, it's far less expensive by almost any measure.

Take my example: I'll be based in Berlin and plan to take three round trips by train to visit other cities, either for games or to see friends. That will cost a mere $250 using the Germany railpass ($200 base price for four one-way trips, plus $25 for each of two additional trips). By contrast, the Weltmeister-pass would be valid for the same trips but would run a hefty $450 (using the current euro/dollar exchange rate). The moral of the story: the DB is crafty, and it pays to shop around.

Of course, the WM-pass is good for travel throughout the WC, so if you're going to be doing a lot of traveling, then it may work for you. But the threshold for this is pretty high. The point at which the WM-pass becomes a good or better value than the Germany railpass is where you're going to be traveling on each of fourteen days. Considering that the WC is about a month long, this would mean traveling every other day to make it worth your dime (and that presumes hefty voyages that cost more than $25 per as well--otherwise you'd be better off buying individual train tickets).

25,000 maniacs

2006-05-12T14:43:00.000-04:00

How many US fans are expected in Germany this summer? I'd estimate something like five, maybe eight thousand, but the Arizona Republic predicts that the numbers will be much larger, along the lines of 20-25,000. I'm not sure what the basis for their prediction is, but if true it's fantastic news from the perspective of the growth of support for the beautiful game in this country.

One of the strongest indicators of increased support is ticket sales. While the USSF had plenty of leftover seats for both France and Korea, this time around the US was a hot and difficult to get ticket. The USSF had 10,000 tix available but received 40,000 requests. The AZ Republic reports that tix are going for over $300 on the "black market" (scare word that seems to refer to secondary markets like eBay), which is even higher than the ridiculously high rates that resellers quoted me when I was still in the market for a ticket to the Ghana game.

As for my personal trip to Germany, things are looking better all the time. I just received the great news that a good friend of mine (and mirarchi's) will be joining up with us for about a week. While this is fantastic news in many senses, I fear that his presence may create beer shortages in Berlin and throughout the local area. But I still need to get on accommodations in both Ktown and Nburg, as well as get a Weltmeister pass.

FIFA concerned about World Cup ticketing disaster

2006-05-09T11:16:00.000-04:00

The AP reports that FIFA has finally expressed concern about Germany's insistence that all tickets have the names of the holders, something I've long thought was a problem. Imagine having to tell some fan drunk on booze and nationalism that they're not getting into the game because they can't produce an ID in addition to their ticket.

Part of the problem is that this could create massive backups when entering the stadium. If every fan has to produce ID, that adds a step that makes ticket taking even slower than it already is, thus entry lines crawl more slowly than they already do. And even if only one fan in a hundred has a problem proving their identity that requires sorting out, then you've got the equivalent of the intersection of the 405 and 10 freeways at rush hour (yeah, I'm from Los Angeles).

Another more ominious problem is that it could create violence. A lot of these fans will be drunk and aggressive upon entering the stadium, and if they're told they can't enter because they don't have proof of identity that could be a problem either at the turnstile or outside the stadiums as angry fans get together and trash stuff to let out their frustration. Also, who enforces the ticket taker's decision not to admit a fan? Does the German FA really think that if some skinny 20-year-old dude or nice 50-ish matron says to a drunken thug "you have no ID, you'll have to skip the game you came all the way across the globe to attend" that's just going to happen? There will need to be security guards at every gate.

Finally, let's say it all goes smoothly but the result of the policy is swaths of empty seats from fans who lack ID or people who couldn't attend but also couldn't give tickets to friends or family, well that sucks too in terms of spectacle and atmosphere.

Hopefully the German FA will key in to their national sense of organization and sort this all out. But given this concern, DFinD's tip to the broad readership is to get into those games early and often. Start the tailgate a good four or five hours before kickoff, make a dent in all that delicious Deutschebrau you brought, and head into the stadium a solid hour early to avoid the aforementioned snafus and see all of the action. In 2002, can you imagine if your answer to "Where were you when John O'Brien scored against Portugal?" was "Standing in line haggling with a ticket taker?"

LD: enough with the playa-hate

2006-05-08T21:21:00.000-04:00

Sign #432 that the US has arrived at a soccer nation: the on-going obsessiveness over trivial details of star players' lives. Case in point: WCIS calls LD a pussy because he likes massages. Then Soccer Thoughts rebuts the notion. DF in Deutschland feels compelled to weigh in with our opinion: this debate is ridiculous.

OK, one thing I do think warrants discussing is the LD and Bayer Leverkusen issue. Donovan's failure to succeed over there and his quick return have long been taken as indications that he's a pathetic weakling, and that he gave up a brighter future for the comforts of home. The truth is, as ST points out, that we just don't know what LD would have been like had he played over there. It's possible that he would have been even better than he is now, but it's also very conceivable that he would have been worse if he didn't get playing time (which happens even when deserved at times if you don't fit the coach's system), or was just plain miserable. And consider DMB: he was having the best year of his life at PSV, but wasn't by any stretch of the imagination the best player for the US during 2004-05. I think that was clearly LD, who led the team with assists over that span, and both assists and goals during the final round of WCQ. In other words, club success in Europe by no means guarantees good form for your country. LD improved for the US after leaving Leverkusen.

But perhaps more to the point, why do people feel compelled to hate on our star player so much? I think it's another sign the US is moving up in the world--now we can take for granted and even disparage one of our star players, much the way that stars in other countries fall out of favor with the media and supporters despite enormous talent and contribution (e.g., Del Piero in Italy, Becks off and on in England). Andrea Canales' ambivalent Soccernet profile of Donovan (which spurred the aforementioned debate in the soccer blogosphere) illustrates the point.

So I guess I do have more of an opinion on all this than I let on initially? Do I think it matters that Landon had a teddy bear that his girlfriend gave to him when he was 16? Hell no. If you can win the Golden Ball at the FIFA U-17s and you play for the US, I don't care if you surround yourself with My Little Ponies and listen to the Backstreet Boys while painting your toenails with pink glitter. (Hm, having written that, I think I would have a problem with that, but it's not what we're dealing with here so let's move on.) Do I think LD's devotion to his family and girlfriend (who is, by the way, a starlet who is likely hotter than anyone who posts or writes about soccer on the internet will ever date, even self included) is a sign of weakness? Just the contrary. I think it proves that his priorities are in the right place (people before career), even if that's not what pleases USMNT fans (again, self included).

But more than anything else, I just don't care that much. This guy is an insane soccer talent and has contributed more to the USMNT in big games than any other player on the roster. He's the all-time assists leader for the US and the third-leading goalscorer at the age of only 24. Moreover, he's shown an unstinting degree of commitment to the US cause, consistently turning up to play in friendlies and WCQs alike, logging more minutes than any other player every year since 2002. I say let's put aside the weird, useless obsession with meaningless trivia about his personal life and support the leader of the US Men's National Team and one of the best players (if not the best, as measured by on-field performance) that has ever played for the Nats.

US-Czech Republic ticket giveaway has concluded

2006-05-08T18:59:00.000-04:00

Just a quick note to say that mirarchi's ticket giveaway is over, having garnered a lot of compelling emails from true fans who weren't able to secure a ticket to the game. Ultimately the ticket went to the first such person who wrote in, a serious USMNT supporter who will really appreciate the chance to attend the game.

This reminded me, though, that there are a lot of people who are just going to Germany ticketless, hoping to scalp or planning just to hang out near the stadium where the US is playing. I was actually in the latter category with respect to US-Ghana until very recently. And while it would be great if everyone could get tix, this reminded me in turn that one of the things that will be great about Germany will be the scene in and around the games, not just the games themselves. Meeting other supporters (US and non-US alike), chilling and grilling at the tailgate, and of course chugging many many German beers--all this will be as good and as memorable (if not moreso) than the 90 minutes played during each game.

So while it really had nothing to do with me, mirarchi's ticket giveaway was a good way to begin to get into the WC spirit. The Black Eyed Peas once asked "Where is the love?" but now I think I know the answer--it's right here at DFinD, baby.

USMNT runs afoul of the fashion police

2006-05-08T16:40:00.000-04:00

This soccer site can't hope to compete with the snark that one sees on the truly great gossip/celebutard/fashion websites like Pink Is the New Blog and The Superficial (female friends told me about them, I swear!), but I had a Joan Rivers gag-me moment when I saw this sartorial note about the USMNT. The AP reports that the Yanks will roll out in their blue kits for the first two games of the Cup, then revert to white for the final group game against Ghana (unis for the second round, if necessary, are TBD).

My bad reaction to this news had nothing to do with how the kits look. I'm pretty indifferent to white versus blue, though I think the latter is preferable (and certainly better than the disastrous shirts the US wore for the 1994 WC, which looked like Jackson Pollock took acid and tried to paint an American flag).

The problem is that our record in the blue shirts in World Cup play is abysmal. Last time around we wore blue for two games, and white for three, with very consistent results. When wearing white, we were 2-1-0, including our two great wins against Mexico and Portugal and that gritty tie against South Korea. By contrast, when wearing blue we went 0-0-2, with the embarrassing 3-1 loss to Poland and the hard-fought but ultimately disappointing 1-0 loss to Germany in the quarters. The pattern is not hard to spot.

I realize that choice of jersey is determined to an extent by the need to avoid color clashes, and that this is all the product of irrational superstition. Still, I can't ignore the cold hard facts of our relatively poor performances in blue, and the ominousness of the choice to wear blue against our two most formidable first-round foes.

FREE Ticket to U.S.-Czech Republic

2006-05-07T10:13:00.000-04:00

I've been planning a World Cup trip this summer with my wife, son, and stepfather, and have two tickets to each of the U.S. first round games -- one for myself, and one for my stepfather. It turns out that my stepfather will not be arriving in Germany until after the U.S.-Czech Republic game, so I am left with an extra ticket to that game.

I grew up a die-hard New York Yankees fan, and when I was in college, I spent a couple summers in New York City. A seat in the right-field bleachers of Yankee Stadium at that time ran $6, and I'd often go up to the Bronx after work and catch a game from the bleachers. Once I was standing in line at the bleacher seats ticket window, and a guy walked by asking if anyone was by themselves. I tentatively raised my hand, and the guy walked over to me, handed me a ticket, and said "enjoy." It turns out it was a ticket to a box seat a few rows behind the first-base dugout (I can't remember what the face value of the ticket was, but it was at least ten, if not twenty times, as much as the $6 bleacher seat I was planning to buy).

Having been a beneficiary of a stranger's random act of kindness in bestowing on me a free ticket to a sporting event, I have decided to do the same, and am offering my extra ticket to the Czech Republic game to a deserving reader of this blog. In doing this, I have two concerns. First, I want the ticket to end up in the hands of a U.S. fan. Second, I don't want whoever I give the ticket to to turn around and scalp it.

So, broad readership, here's the deal: If you are planning a trip to Germany this summer, and would like my extra ticket, post a comment to this post. In your comment, leave your email address, and write up something that will assure me that you are a die-hard fan of the USMNT and that you are not planning to scalp the ticket. I will get back to the lucky winner of the ticket by tomorrow, as I purchased the tickets through the USSF, and the deadline for transferring a ticket from one person's name to another's is 5:00 p.m. on Monday. So if you'd like the ticket and post your email address here, please check your email by tomorrow (Monday) morning, as I will need your full name, date of birth, and passport number for the transfer form, which I need to fax to the USSF by 5:00 p.m tomorrow.

Rostermania

2006-05-04T19:47:00.000-04:00

With the US roster announcement in the books, all the hand-wringing over who will be on the team can be replaced by hand-wringing over who is on the team. I have to admit that I was floored by the choice of Ching/Conrad over Twellman/Albright. In a sense it was cool that there was some surprise in an event that's suspenseful only in the sense that the Academy Awards are (where everyone in the know pretty much knows how it will turn out).

But do these selections make sense? The Albright versus Conrad question has become largely moot in light of Hejduk's subtraction from the roster in light of Frankie's knee issue. Of more concern in my view is Ching over Twellman. True that TT did not start well with the USMNT, but it's hard to imagine a player doing more than he did in the runup to the WC. Three goals against Norway, a goal and two assists against Japan, and an assist against Poland. Ching had one goal against Guatemala. They both looked pretty overmatched against Germany, which indicates larger problems but doesn't really help to distinguish the players.

So that data set weighs in favor of TT, but then MLS early season form suggests Ching is hotter now. Brian is on five goals in four games (though none in recent contests), while Taylor has been a bit cold, with one or so goals and generally not looking sharp. This weighs in favor of Brian, but I really don't think scoring four on the Rapids suggests similar success against any team in the World Cup. (Then again, TT's hat trick against a Norway U23 side must be taken with a grain of salt.)

At the end of the day, though, I think Bruce wasn't thrilled with either player, but erred on the side of size and chose the player who can compete better against physical defenses like the ones we'll be facing in the first round (and, we hope, thereafter). And if we're going to be really dependent on a target forward in a single-striker formation, then it makes sense to have a backup to McBride in the likely event that he can't go 90 in any given match. I'm skeptical, but on the other hand, if Bruce thinks Ching is a better choice than Twellman, I'll go with that. If there's one thing Il Bruce has earned over the past eight or so years, it's the confidence of all USMNT fans. In Bruce We Trust. Onward to Germany.

Roster eve knowledge: Olsen scoop and the (collective) wisdom of pundits

2006-05-01T11:21:00.000-04:00

Roster Eve! It's one of my favorite eves, after Christmas Eve and Halloween (the full name of which is All Hallow's Eve, the night before All Saints' Day). So much has been said, so what can DFinD offer? Two tidbits caught my eye when I scanned the US soccer blogosphere this AM:

First, the Washington Post is reporting that Ben Olsen will be on the final roster. After Ben scored the last couple times he was under the Arenascope (against Jamaica in Cary, NC and against FCD this past weekend), this hardly seems like earth-shattering news. I'm not sure this is a great choice, not because Ben doesn't deserve it (he does) and not because I'm not a huge Olsen fan (I am), but rather because I'm not sure we need depth at the D-mid spot with players like Reyna, Mastro, and (maybe) O'Brien who are locks to be on the roster and who can do the job there. Of course, Olsen can also slot in at right mid, where we're weak. All told, I'm happy for Ben (assuming the Post got it right), and for DCU having a representative on the USMNT WC side.

There's also a great article in MatchNight collecting the predictions of various soccer writers about who'll make the team. The most variance among the pundits concerns who will be our forwards (and how many Bruce will take). More interestingly, the article collates the various opinions and adds up how many votes of confidence each player got. If James Surowiecki's ideas about distributed information markets have any purchase here, they suggest that this latter grouping should predict with a high degree of accuracy Bruce's final roster. When Arena reveals the 23, I'll compare and contrast his picks with the pundit's consensus to see how well this worked.

You cannot be serious: JOB injured again

2006-04-30T23:44:00.000-04:00

In an easy-to-report revelation that merely requires soccer writers to cut and paste text from countless identical previous articles, John O'Brien was injured, again, while practicing with Chivas USA. Yanks Abroad has the best report on the incident, which took JOB out of commission for this weekend. It's not much of a knock, just a minor left calf strain, but for the love of God, what does the aforementioned deity have against O'Brien? Of course, I keep assuming that JOB is the victim of an unbelievable skein of bad breaks, when in fact it's likely the case that each of his injuries make future injuries more likely, so it's not as though the only factor at issue here is pure chance.

I've been assuming all along that JOB will make the final USMNT roster, thinking that if he becomes injured then we can just replace him with an alternate. Turns out things aren't that simple. FIFA rules permit roster players to be replaced only if they injure themselves after the May 15 deadline for submitting a final 23-man squad. So if it turns out that Bruce names JOB to the team, and then this latest injury (or any of the preexisting ones) prevent him from playing, FIFA would not permit the US to name an alternate to the roster. Of course, this particular injury doesn't seem serious enough to keep O'Brien out of commission for the Cup, so it's not that much of a risk. And given his track record, I think the real concern is that JOB will injure himself in a major way before the WC, and if that happened we could name an alternate to the squad. At the end of the day, though, I remain skeptical that JOB will actually be fit enough to contribute to the US effort in Germany. But I really hope I'm wrong.

Il Bruce

2006-04-29T19:37:00.000-04:00

The boards and the blogs have picked up on this already, but I have to echo their enthusiasm for Grant Wahl's stellar article on USMNT coach Bruce Arena. (That's actually the followup piece to the original that ran in SI; you have to buy the magazine or an online sub to get the latter.)

The article explains in detail something most US fans already know: that Bruce is one of, if not the, major reasons for the rise of US soccer in the past few years. The guy simply knows how to win. He's been the coach ever since I followed the team closely, so I've never had to be in a situation where there were coaching problems, but they're obviously endemic at the national team level, where some countries just can't seem to choose and commit to a system that works for them. It's not only Bruce's talent as a coach that recommends him, it's also the fact that he's been around for so long that helps the team have a sense of stability and confidence that other national teams lack.

There's talk in the article of Bruce's future. The norm is that coaches would stick around for two World Cups at the absolute max, but Wahl's sources suggest that barring a disaster in Germany (or a success so spectacular that Bruce is sure to leave for a club in Europe), he'll likely stay with the US. This may seem like an unorthodox move, but I don't see why there's any reason to get rid of the best coach the US has ever had just for the sake of change. England's great coaches--Walter Winterbottom and Alf Ramsey--led their teams for seventeen and eleven years, respectively. It may be the case that Bruce chooses to move on (and the extended interview that is included in the Journey to Germany DVD suggests that he's contemplating this), but if he doesn't US Soccer would be insane to let him go.

Pimp my site

2006-04-29T15:30:00.000-04:00

Working on a blog is a peculiar experience. You put stuff out there in cyberspace, hoping people will read and enjoy it, but never really knowing much about how it's all received. After all, why do it in the first place? For me part of the reason is just because I like the sound of my own voice (in written form at least). But it's also a way of channeling my addiction to soccer in something like a constructive form. And as with last summer's project, when I head to Germany for the World Cup, the blog will become something more like a travelog (travelblog, I suppose) recording the experience for posterity and my legions of devoted readers.

But until then there have been some encouraging signs. DF in Deutschland is finally the first link you get when you type in that phrase on Google. (You also get mirarchi's blogger profile but for some reason not mine). This Google search also returns a link to something called Blogshares that I don't understand but appears to be some kind of stock exchange for blogs. According to the virtually incomprehensible charts and graphs, the value of this site is...up?

I've also started a blogroll with links to some of the many fine sites out there on US soccer and/or MLS. Several of these sites have been kind enough to cross-list me on their blog indices. In particular, shout-outs to MLS Fangirl, MLS News and Views, and du Nord for their kind inclusion of this humble site. Please note also that I've established an email address for readers who may want to contact me (also in sidebar on right). The volume of email I was getting in my personal inbox related to this blog was simply overwhelming, you see.

So onward and upward with this project, solipsistic and ephemeral though it may be. Thanks to all for reading, and please continue to watch this space. Peace out.

Thug life

2006-04-28T22:38:00.000-04:00

When I saw this AP story titled "Soccer star who hit teammate hopes for World Cup spot", I honestly thought it was about some other team with some psycho whose roid-rage rendered him unable to resist randomly clocking his fellow players, and was generally considered to undermine his fine play with menacing outbursts. Then I clicked the link and I realized the piece was about our own pugilistic phenom, Clint Dempsey.

I suppose the writer was just looking for a hook, but I really doubt that any other serious MNT fan thinks of Deuce as a "player who hit his teammate." The one-off fight with Franchino is familiar (if old) news, of course, but there's no pattern of behavior there, and from what little I know about the Revs, Franchino is a bit of a hothead and I had always assumed he kind of deserved it.

Weird framing aside, this is actually a pretty good article. It gives a good account of Clint's accomplishments (both in fisticuffs and on the soccer field), and recounts the anxiety surrounding his possible trip to the World Cup.

And on that note, I have to voice disagreement with much of the media and some posters I've seen around the boards. I don't at all regard Deuce as a fringe candidate to make the World Cup. I say he's got to be a lock. This time around there are basically two new players who I think will make an impact at the World Cup: one is Gooch, and Dempsey's the other (actually, include Convey in that group too). Sure, Clint's still a little raw, but he brings a flair and passion and confidence that few of our other players possess, and his record in the pre-WC friendlies has been stellar (two goals, including the game-winner against Poland, and generally high-level play).

My predictions, in order of certitude: Clint will make the roster; he'll see meaningful time in the Cup; he'll score a goal; he'll start a game. I wouldn't be surprised if all four happened.

Chat with Landycakes

2006-04-28T15:50:00.000-04:00

I just read this transcript of Landon Donovan's recent ESPN chat that has some really funny stuff in it. First, there's this question:

Adam (San Francisco): "Landon Donovan"... are you a porn star?
Landon Donovan: (5:13 PM ET ) Sweet. Maybe that could be my profession after soccer.

Although I'd never really thought of it before, the name "Landon Donovan" really does sound fit for a porn star. This got me to thinking that "Clint Mathis" could also be a porn star's name. Clint Mathis, Landon Donovan, Dirk Diggler...

Then there's this brilliant question:

John (SF): Isn't "Galaxy" a pretty pansy name? You might as well be called the Unicorns.
Landon Donovan: (5:20 PM ET ) I like Unicorns better. I had nothing to do with that. But it makes sense .. Hollywood .. stars .. Galaxy .. people recognize it.

Again, I'd never realized it until I read the question, but "Galaxy" really is a pansy name. And now that I think of it, "Wizards" is also quite a pansy name.

You've got to love this question:

Joe (LA): Whats your favorite nickname? LD, Landycakes, or Lanny?
Landon Donovan: (5:25 PM ET ) I perfer primadonna.

I always chuckle to myself when I hear people refer to Donovan as Landycakes. I'm a huge Donovan fan -- I think he's easily the most talented player on our team and he has been great for us when it's mattered most. But he has just enough prissiness to make the Landycakes nickname a fitting moniker. I'm glad Lanny has enough of a sense of humor to laugh at the question.

Donovan's response to this question strains credibility:

adam (oax, Mex): beer or wine?
Landon Donovan: (5:28 PM ET ) I've developed from beer to wine. I used to pound as much beer as I could in the offseason (dark beer) but I think I'm more of a wine drinker now.

I had to laugh when I read Donovan's response. The guy is just too fit for that statement to have any credibility -- Donovan has always been one of the two fittest guys on the national team (along with Hejduk). There's no way he could maintain that fitness level and spend his offseason pounding as much beer as he could.

The only point in the chat where Landycakes starts to get a bit techy is when asked about his receding hairline:

Balding (Reno, NV): How concerned are you about losing your hairline- Zidane got away with it, do you think you can?
Landon Donovan: (5:34 PM ET ) I'm going to all measures to keep it. I use a product to keep what I have so it doesn't get worse. Look man, if it gives people something to make fun of me for, that's fine. It is what it is.

Clearly the question touched a nerve. I admire Donovan, though, for being so willing to admit that he's going to all measures to keep his hair, including acknowledging his use of a product. It is really remarkable how bald the guy was, even at the tender age of 17. At a certain point in the not too distant future, I think he's going to have to shave his head and go with the Zidane look -- otherwise he's just going to look too funny.

In any case, the chat was a fun read, and props to Donovan, or whoever it was who selected the questions, for allowing the irrereverant ones to be asked.

Bruce discloses US WC lineup (no joke)

2006-04-24T10:03:00.000-04:00

So apparently there's this show called "Los Tecnicos" ("The Coaches") on which head coaches of all the WC teams appear and talk about the upcoming tournament. For whatever reason, they end up disclosing massive amounts of information to the host, and Bruce was (surprisingly) no exception. I didn't actually see this show, but rather read a thread about it on BigSoccer. However, in his conversation, Arena basically discloses the US lineup, which one poster astutely distilled as:

if O'Brien is healthy:

**************Keller***************
**Cherundolo***Gooch***Pope***Lewis **
*********Mastroeni*****************
*************O'Brien***************
********Reyna*********************
***********************Beasley*****
********Donovan*******************
*************McBride***************

If O'Brien can't play:

**************Keller***************
**Cherundolo***Gooch***Pope***Lewis**
*********Mastroeni*****************
*************Reyna****************
***Dempsey************************
********Donovan*********Beasley*****
**********************************
*************McBride***************

There you have it. A few things about this surprise me. First is the use of Pope not Gibbs. It depends on Pope's health of course, but still--I think in defense you normally go with youth. I hope Pope doesn't become the over-the-hill liability that Agoos was last time around. The one-forward setup represents a deviation from what we're used to (4-4-2 all the way) but it does make sense. I don't think anyone can plausibly claim that any of our other forward options are anything close to world class, so in light of Bruce's general rule to put the best players on the field, this makes sense.

Of course, caveat lector--this is only my account of a BS.com poster's account of a show I've never seen. But I have no reason to think the thread was a hoax, and the lineup has the solid ring of plausibility to anyone who's been following the USMNT. It looks like BA is doing the best with what he's got, but I'm kind of worried, especially about who's going to score goals for us.
This setup puts a lot of pressure on McBride, who had a great first half of the season for Fulham but hasn't been as sharp of late. On the other hand, the defensive setup looks really solid.

Eskandarian and the USMNT: what if?

2006-04-22T20:59:00.000-04:00

When I was in the sixth grade, the only person who would talk to me was the class fat kid. And even when fatty deigned to speak to me, it was invariably about his obsession with comic books. For some reason, one of the "coms" (as he called them) sounded interesting to me. It was called What if? and posed a series of counterfactuals about how things would have been different if some major world event hadn't occurred.

Today, as I watched my DC United emasculate Red Bull New York 4-1, punctuated by two goals from Alecko Eskandarian, I was thinking about a What if? style experiment of my own. What if Matt Reis hadn't flattened Esky early last year, leaving the DCU forward concussed and out of commission for the entire season? How might this have changed things for the USMNT?

I can't imagine that Bruce would have overlooked an in-form Eskandarian. He brings something that no one else in our forward pool does. There's a certain confidence to his play, just short of recklessness, that the US could really use. I think the closest analogy is to Clint Mathis. When he was in form during 2001-02, Clint ran at defenses with a steely nerve that was unmatched. Eskandarian and Mathis are alike also in that their primary weapon is a deadly shot. Esky scores some goals simply because goalies can't react in time to the speed and the swerve; he's not a touch-and-finesse scorer (like EJ or Twellman). The best example of Esky at his best has to be the 2004 playoffs, when he scored some great goals against the Metros, New England, and KC (four in the playoffs all told), all of which were absolute bombs.

Of course, some have rightly pointed out that Esky seems a little one-dimensional in that he's so plainly left-footed. This is something you can get away with in MLS, but at the international level it's a major liability because it allows defenders to know what you're up to and it cuts down on your ability to react quickly in situations where the ball isn't at your preferred foot. Plus, Esky (unlike Mathis) has shown no indication that he can recreate his MLS form at the international level.

Despite these reservations, though, I have to imagine that if Eskandarian hadn't been clocked by Reis that unfortunate night about a year ago, he'd be in the USMNT picture, if not on the team. And while it's far too late for Esky to be a factor in WC06, it really makes me wish he'd had the chance to show for the Nats, because none of our current options bring the Mathis-esque intensity and drive that Eskandarian does. Watch out in 2010, though.

DaMarcus Boozely II: Electric Boogaloo

2006-04-21T16:20:00.000-04:00

So DMB had his day in court, and the verdict (well, not really because there was no jury involved, but still you know what I'm talking about) was that he has to pay a $1,500 euro ($1,800) fine and his license will be suspended for six months.

The reports on this incident also give a little more information about just what went down. Apparently DaMarcus had five glasses of champagne (the article does not specify a brand, but we'll assume Cristal or at least Veuve), and was seen "speeding away from a cafe" and "swerving erratically."

So what to make of all this? My first instinct is that the penalty is tough but fair. Eighteen hundred bucks strikes me as a healthy sum of cash, but it likely isn't for a pro athlete (though I can't say just how much Beasely makes). But having your license suspended for six months? That's an absolute killer. I know people who have had to deal with this penalty, and invariably they find the monetary costs and inconvenience of not being able to drive enormous and burdensome.

This whole incident has sparked a bit of a snarkfest among the soccer cognoscenti. Hardliners have suggested that DMB should suffer some penalty at the hands of the USMNT as well in order to send a message about (I suppose) the gravity of his offense. Non-hardliners like me have taken the position that Bease has enough to worry about with the state-imposed penalties and that those alone should be enough to send any message. It would be a different story if DMB's pro athlete status meant that he was getting preferential treatment but in the absence of any evidence of that, this strikes me as a good outcome.

One position--not entirely unreasonable but not one I agree with--is that DMB should be held to a higher standard of conduct than an average citizen because of his pro athlete status. Even if you do buy this, though, it's pretty clear that Beasely has suffered a lot more than the average Joe. If anyone else (at least, any non-celeb) had this happen, it would have been a relatively private event where only the state and close friends/family would have to know about it. But here, Bease has to suffer the additional penalty of major public humiliation in Holland and the US. That additional sanction should be more than enough to satisfy even hardliners who think athletes should suffer for their transgressions more than the rest of us.

Plus, we should all remember how little we know about this. The public facts are that DaMarcus had five glasses of bubbly at a cafe and then drove erratically. Given his slight carriage, he was likely pretty drunk, but still--that's hardly a gargantuan amount to drink. This doesn't forgive his conduct but it also puts it in some perspective. At the very least, nothing about the event suggests that there's something terribly amiss going on (other than one very bad decision).

Ultimately, I think the only action Bruce should take should be to sit down with Bease and figure out what his deal is. Was this a one-time mistake? Or is DaMarcus livin' larger than his diminutive size suggests? mirarchi pointed out in the comments to the earlier thread that Jamar Beasely (DMB's bro) was a king-sized partier and got into trouble for it. Perhaps there's something that runs in the fam here? I suspect this will end here, but Bruce should take some (non-punitive) steps to make sure that's the case.

DaMarcus Boozely

2006-04-20T11:31:00.000-04:00

The AP reports this morning that beloved PSV and USMNT midfielder DaMarcus Beasely has been charged with drunk driving in Eindhoven.

I like to think of this as another sign that the US is coming up in the world. Other teams have at least one bad-boy figure who's always going out to clubs, boozing it up, getting into fights, carousing with tarts, etc. By contrast, the USMNT is composed of a bunch of choirboys whose worst offense is posing for a borderline-gay photo shoot in the New York Times magazine (not that there's anything wrong with that).

Now we've got a bad boy of our own, and it's not even his first offense. DMB got into trouble with Dutch customs authorities last year when he failed to declare several items upon returning from the US. That one was disposed of in an out of court settlement, but one wonders whether the judge will be so forgiving of DaMarcus' current offense in light of his burgeoning criminal record.

So, from the perspective of the USMNT, does this make any difference, or is it just a titillating news tidbit. One point is that Bruce has shown himself to be very critical of players who make mistakes in judgment that lead them to be sanctioned. When Clint Dempsey got in a fight with Joey Franchino and was suspended by the Revs, Bruce withdrew Clint's invite to play in the Germany friendly (even though that meant we'd be bringing an even weaker team). I suppose if a player had repeated trouble (serious trouble, not a customs offense and one drunk driving charge) with the law, Bruce might take that into account, but I really doubt this is anything more than an embarrassment for DMB at this stage. I could see Bruce teasing him about it but not suspending him.

On the other hand, a small part of me worries if DMB is on a bit of a downward spiral. He suffered a serious injury late last season, and hasn't really gotten back into the groove that he was in back in 2004-05 with PSV. He's lost his starting spot, and I don't think he's even scored a goal for Eindhoven all year. You can imagine that living in a foreign country (especially in a god-forsaken, freezing part of Europe like Eindhoven) and struggling with your career might drive one to have a frosty cocktail or two, and perhaps even also to make the not-great decision of driving afterward. I don't of course know the whole story but my thought is that if anything is of concern here it's not that DMB drove drunk on one occasion, but about what led him to do so in the first instance. Ultimately, though, I don't think much will come of this other than the hilarious pun that is the title of this post.

AP reports on Arena shocker!!!

2006-04-19T19:54:00.000-04:00

Today, the AP shocked soccer fans across America--and, indeed, throughout the world--with the shattering revelation that Bruce feels the US will be ready to compete in the World Cup. After months of expecting a wholly unprepared team to take the field in Germany, this unexpected reversal has set the US Soccer community on its ear.

"What the hell is this all about?" asked a justifiably angry Jed Thickett, longtime MNT supporter from Davis, Kentucky. "I bought my goddamn tickets to the World Cup months ago, and have shelled out thousands of dollars in plane tickets and other expenses, all in the expectation that the Nats would be woefully un-ready for the World Cup, and now at this late date Bruce announces that the team will be 'prepared' instead? Unacceptable."

Hardly alone in his ire, Thickett's response is understandable. Virtually all US fans who purchased tickets for the World Cup did so only for three games, assuming that a not-ready team would take the pitch and get swept aside in the preliminary round. Countless others bought no tickets at all, reasonably assuming that--given Arena's terrible track record--the MNT would be entirely unprepared for the world's biggest sporting event, rendering attendance inadvisable for US fans.

Players, too, were dismayed at Arena's shock revelation. "Bruce wants us to be 'ready' for the World Cup?" asked an incredulous Brian Ching. "Well, if I'd known that I might have tried to score against Germany or Jamaica. Now what am I supposed to do?" Josh Wolff attempted to make a similar comment but injured himself in the process and had to be stretchered out of the room before finishing his remarks. Defenders, too, were left shaking their heads. "Man, did I have it backwards," lamented a chastened Gregg Berhalter. "If I'd thought that Bruce planned to have a team ready for the World Cup I might have thought twice about gifting Germany three chances in ten minutes in that friendly. I did not see this coming."

The media has often been accused of manufacturing stories to fill up dead time during duller moments of the run-up to the World Cup. But with this story, the AP has put the lie to this bad rap. More soon as the repercussions of this shocker continue to be felt around the nation.

Dear FIFA-Coke Rankings,

2006-04-19T12:26:00.000-04:00

First, I'm very flattered by all the attention, and why wouldn't I be? After all, your most recent set of rankings is nothing if not ego-inflating. It's great that you think of us as the fourth-best team in the world, behind only Brazil, the Czech Republic, and Holland. I mean, I was surprised when you put me fifth last month, but to move up a notch even after getting torched 4-1 in that friendly against Germany and drawing 1-1 at home against Jamaica--wow.

And when I think of all the hot national teams you prefer over me--Argentina, England, Spain, Portugal, Italy--I'm just really, really flattered. But the thing is, I'm not sure we're really on the same page with how we feel about each other. You're a great international sporting organization, and your rankings are so influential, don't get me wrong, but it just seems like you're much more into me than I am into you. I could accept a ranking of 11th or so (and would be excited to be in the top ten), but fourth just seems like a little too much, too fast.

The truth is--as much as it hurts to say--I just don't think you "get" me. If you did, you'd have me in a different place on the list, as it should be. And, to be honest, I think there is a ranking system with whom I have a better rapport. I'm sure you've heard of the World Football ELO Ratings, and it's no secret that both of you are ranking me, but when I see how they've got me around fourteenth, I just think, well, that makes more sense for me. I hope you'll understand.

Please don't take this all too hard. A lot of people think you're kind of crazy, but I think you basically make sense, and I don't want to sever ties entirely. I want you to keep ranking me, and I'll definitely keep coming to all your tournaments. It's just that--in the past few months especially, with being ranked fifth in March and all--things have been moving a little fast and I think it's better if they cool off a bit. I hope you'll understand. Your friend,

The USMNT

Final roster: to the extent that there are questions, why do we care?

2006-04-18T17:24:00.000-04:00

So the relative dearth of haps in the USMNT camp of late has led me to engage in major hand-wringing over the final 23-man roster that's due to be announced in a couple weeks. And before the readership derides me as a hopeless soccerneurotic, I'd like to point out that you're all the same as me.

But in the interest of quelling my obsessiveness so I can at least pretend to focus on work, I've come to the conclusion that the roster announcement doesn't really matter. The reason is that the only hard questions come at the margins: will we take Wolff or Ching? Albright or one of Berhalter/Conrad? Olsen or Noonan?

Answer: it simply doesn't matter. The likelihood is that none of these guys will see much time (well, maybe the forward--but even then it will be marginal). As of right now, we know who the key players are, and the ones that are last on the roster will likely just be filling up space.

But wait, DF, you rightly say. Isn't it the case that Bruce is nearly unique among major national coaches in using almost all his roster players? A couple things. First, Bruce doesn't necessarily use all his players. Last WC, in addition to KK and Meola, neither Regis nor (was it?) Vanney saw any time. So it could be the case that the last defender or midfielder picked spends all their time on the bench.

But true also that last time around Bruce used unlikely players like Llamosa and Cobi in late-game role-filling positions. So Albright/Berhalter or Olsen/Noonan could well see some time. Fair enough, but does anyone really think that if we're trying to kill some time at the end of a game or we need support on the right for the last ten minutes of a game because Reyna is gassed it'll make that much of a difference if one or the other of these guys fills that spot? I can't really see it.

Now this all may be a rationalization designed to convince myself that I should just go ahead and accept the lack of news from the USMNT camp. If that's the case, please don't convince me otherwise. I need to at least make a pretense of getting some work done.

Scalp condition

2006-04-15T19:57:00.000-04:00

My earlier post about tickets made me think about measures FIFA has taken to render tickets unique to their original purchasers and how this will affect the World Cup. For all the tix I bought, I had to submit identifying information: name, birthdate, passport number, and nationality.

First, what’s the rationale for this policy? First, the request for passport information suggests that it’s an attempt to cut down on hooliganism. A lot of fans involved with international violence have had their passports revoked, so that suggests that it would be an easy step to deny tickets to people whose passport numbers are on the hooligan list.

Second, it appears to be an attempt to reduce secondary markets—resale on eBay, on-site scalping, etc. But it appears to sweep more broadly than that. If I can’t make the game and have a good friend who would benefit from the ticket, then my friend is out of luck and the ticket goes to waste. There is, of course, a good story to be told about this. If I want to buy a ticket and give it to my hooligan friend (hypothetical friend, that is), then he’s out of luck as well, and that’s a positive result of the policy than no one can really object to.

The only reason I have reservations about it is that my sense is that (1) there’s nothing wrong with secondary markets in ticket sales; and (2) I think a lot more fans than tifosi will be shut out if the unique identifiers are actually enforced. But now that I think more about (1), it could be that if scalpers know that secondary markets will be deflated by the ID policy, they won’t try to buy the tix in the first instance, meaning that initial sales go largely to fans and not to would-be gouging touts. As for (2), it is as the man says an empirical question with an empirical answer, so my sense may be wrong. Also, even if the policy shuts out 20 true fans for every one psycho, that still might be a positive result for the atmosphere overall considering the havoc that the latter could wreak.

Then there’s the question whether the ticketing policy will actually be enforced. I’m not so confident that it will. Enforcement would require every ticket to be matched to a verifiable passport (because standard forms of ID don’t have passport number), although it’s possible that the ticket takers would just require name matching (if the passport number is just to rule out sales to people on the international-hooligan list). Considering that there are as many as 70-odd thousand people going to each game, this could present an insanely difficult logistical issue. But then again, many major clubs have strong ID policies. When I saw Ajax in Amsterdam, it was necessary to buy an ID that was verified at the turnstile when I entered the game. It’s not hard to imagine that the World Cup organizers would be similarly strapped with ticketing tech to reduce logistical snafus (indeed, FIFA's official policy suggests that they'll have just such tech in place).

One other fact is that there’s been and will continue to be large-scale secondary markets despite everyone having known about the ID policy for a long time. I wonder what will happen to the folks who buy on these markets? Will they be simply out of luck? Will it screw up the situation for everyone if every purchaser of a scalped ticket remonstrates with stadium security when they realize their ticket is invalid? And how would it look if FIFA managed to enforce the policy at the cost of excluding thousands of fans and creating swaths of empty seats in the stadiums? They’d still make the same amount of money but it could make for a poorer spectacle.

Ten things I hated about US-Jamaica

2006-04-15T19:35:00.000-04:00

So we all know that the US tied Jamaica 1-1 in a disappointing friendly this past Tuesday. Commentators have already wrung all the salient points about the game, but I didn’t have the chance to chime in, so here’s my top ten list of what sucked about this game.

I had the result spoiled when I was leaving a restaurant and passed through the bar, which was televising the game in its ninetieth minute on a big-ass plasma TV. Normally, I would have been happy to know that the demand among the bar patrons was for US soccer (though I don’t know if anything else was on tap), but this time around it just sucked.

It’s a drag that LD is so clearly our best player. No one (at least, no one on the field that day) has anything like his vision and skill. As he goes, we go. Thank god he’s been so resolutely healthy so far; I hope it stays that way.

My damn TiVo recording of the game was static-y as hell. I’ve since fixed the problem, but it was like watching the match through a heavy snowstorm.

I’m jealous of Jamaica’s physical presence. Their players are bigger, stronger, and faster than ours, even if they’re less skilled on the ball. I think all sports is moving in the direction of picking bodies first and developing them into players, as opposed to picking skilled players regardless of stature. Jamaica’s size and speed helped them earn a draw against us despite not being the “better” (i.e., more talented) team.

It bugs me that the players that stepped up their game were likely so far off the radar screen that they’re not in a position to make an impact at the World Cup level. I like Ben Olsen, but he’s not truly international material. And Chris Albright would be a passable backup to Dolo in case the latter got hit by a truck or something, but Hejduk can fill that role as well, so I don’t see Chris doing much for us in Germany either (assuming he makes the roster, which is likely), which is no major tragedy, despite his aerial presence in the box.

I’m bummed that my prediction that this would be a goal-heavy game with the forwards putting in major performances was so wrong. I think our forward play was the weakest part of the game. These guys have been torching defenses in MLS; why then the disappearing act against Jamaica?

It’s irritating as hell that Josh Wolff can’t play onside for the one good moment he’s contributed to the US in the past year. The goal he scored (actually, didn’t score) wasn’t one that took any meaningful advantage of his coming from an offside position. He just lost concentration and failed to play even with the last defender. You know it’s the forward’s fault when he doesn’t even make an effort to challenge the offside call.

It kills me that we couldn’t beat Donovan Ricketts more than once (other than Wolff’s called-back goal). That goalie has the ability to make some great saves and some asinine errors. The Olsen goal was a gift, and Ricketts should have handled the Wolff shot as well. It seems as though he does well only against high-quality shots like Albright’s two headers. In the future when we play Jamaica, we should essay to get only crappy shots on goal in the expectation that Ricketts will spill them into the back of the net.

I forgot to wear my new “Jamaican Me Crazy” shirt while watching the game. I bet it would have brought good luck.

Can’t the USSF figure out that Cary, NC is a graveyard for our guys? The past two times we’ve been there we’ve had to scratch back for a draw against a clearly inferior opponent. (First the 2-2 draw against Richmond Kickers in 2002, and now this.) For the superstitious among us, this is clearly not the Nats’ venue of choice.

Get yourself connected

2006-04-15T18:52:00.000-04:00

First, where have I been? This, broad readership, is an excellent question. For much of the past couple of weeks I’ve been in St. Croix. I highly recommend this destination unless you have some moral or aesthetic objection to sun, rum, and endless sandy beaches.

But now I’m back and it’s time to celebrate my return with a World Cup related note. In a move of retrospectively astonishing foolishness, I failed to pre-order tickets to the US-Ghana game, despite having the incredible luck to have a friend with an inside track to tickets that allows me to bypass the whole USSF/FIFA ticket fiasco.

As a result, I have for the past few months been trolling around various sites to get a ticket to the game. For a moment, it appeared that my good friend and occasional co-blogger mirarchi would have an extra, but no such luck. At one point I was in touch with a very shady Englishman who had two tix but lost me when he asked “Am I looking at 350 pounds sterling for the pair?” It was the smarmy tone as much as the extortionate price that made me decline the offer.

Then, a couple days ago, my secret connection put me in touch with a colleage who apparently has tons of extra tix and was able to hook me up with just what I needed: a Cat I ticket to US-Ghana, at face value. He might also be able to get me into Mexico-Portugal. The lesson: despite the countervailing wisdom propounded by country and western singers, it's good to have friends in high places.

The Final 23

2006-04-13T15:32:00.000-04:00

We've played our last friendly before the deadline for finalizing our WC roster, so now it's time for Bruce to decide on the final 23. Although Bruce says that he'll be monitoring players' performance in MLS over the next three weeks, I have to think that with the exception of one or two spots, the roster is set. As far as who the final 23 will be, here's my prediction:

GK: Keller, Hahnemann, Howard

Keller, of course, is a no brainer. Although I haven't actually seen him play, Hahnemann, by all accounts, has been outstanding for Reading this season. And after Keller and Friedel, Howard is probably the American 'keeper with the most natural talent. He has no doubt suffered from his lack of playing time with ManU, and when he played last season, seemed prone to embarassing mental lapses. But as far as natural ability goes, he's head and shoulders above the competition.

Defenders: Bocanegra, Onyewu, Pope, Gibbs, Cherundolo, Hejduk, Albright

The only two guys on the above list who are not locks to make the final roster are Hejduk and Albright. Hejduk makes the cut because of his versality (he can play either left back or right back), and because of his experience and strong performances in previous World Cups (I still remember how he was one of the few U.S. players who didn't look scared playing against Germany in WC '98). Albright makes the roster as a backup to Cherundolo on the right. Against certain teams, or in certain situations, I think Bruce will want to have the option of playing someone with Albright's physical presence at right back, rather than the diminutive Cherundolo or Hejduk. Albright has also done well in the chances he's gotten with the nats. He had a good second half against Jamaica, and was twice robbed of a goal by sterling saves from the Jamaican 'keeper.

Conrad and Berhalter get cut, simply because we're so deep at center back. Although Conrad and Berhalter are both competent defenders, Boca, Gooch, Pope and Gibbs are just in a different class. Spector gets cut simply because he doesn't have the experience, which is really too bad because he's got boatloads of talent. If this World Cup came a year later, then I think Spector would have been a lock to make the final roster.

Midfielders: Reyna, O'Brien, Donovan, Beasley, Lewis, Convey, Mastroeni, Dempsey, Olsen

The first seven guys listed above are all locks, assuming they stay healthy (which is a big assumption in the case of Reyna, and an even bigger assumption in the case of JOB). Lewis or Convey likely will end up playing as much left back as they will midfield, but since they're natural midfielders, and play there with their clubs, I'll list them as midfielders.

The only two players listed above who are on the bubble are Dempsey and Olsen. Olsen makes the cut because he is a team leader, who gets the guys fired up both in practice and for the matches. Because of that, Arena will want him around, and he'll help the team even if he never actually gets a minute of playing time in the World Cup. He plays with a lot of heart, always working his ass off and giving 110%, a quality that Arena no doubt finds particularly endearing. He's also an Arena favorite -- a UVa boy, and when he played for Arena at DC United, he actually lived with the Arenas his first year or two there. Arena also had good things to say about Olsen after his performance in the Jamaica match. Barring a rash of injuries to our other midfielders, I'd be very surprised if Olsen starts. I can see him being called in as a late game sub for a forward if we're ahead and want to protect a lead.

Dempsey makes the team as much by default as anything else. Ralston looks like he's still injured, and had a stinker against Jamaica. Noonan, while competent, just hasn't looked as dangerous as Dempsey in the chances they've gotten with the nats. Dempsey has shown, both in MLS and with the nats, that he has a nose for the goal. He also makes things happen -- the U.S. looked much more dangerous against Jamaica once Dempsey was subbed in. Of course, there are things that could keep Dempsey off the final roster. The fact that he punched out Franchino certainly doesn't help. And I get the sense that Bruce just doesn't really like Dempsey all that much. Dempsey is also young, and could use a bit more seasoning at the international level (although I think he learned a lot when he ended up on his ass more often than not in the friendly against England). Bruce commented after the last World Cup, though, that the World Cup is a young man's game. No doubt Bruce was referring, at least in part, to the performances of Beasley and Donovan, who were both 20 years old at the time. Beasley in particular had about as much international experience at the time of the '02 WC as Dempsey has now.

Forwards: McBride, Johnson, Twellman, Wolff

These are the same four forwards that 'Celo predicts, and I'm with him on this. McBride is an obvious lock. Johnson makes the team because he's so damn talented, and because he had such a hot streak with the nats before he got injured. Wolff makes the team because of his experience, his good play in the '02 WC, and because, even if he has lost a step due to age, injuries, and surgery, he still has decent speed, and I think Bruce will want to have available a speeding, slashing forward (although Johnson and Donovan can also both play this role).

Whether Bruce will take Twellman over Ching is a close call. I think Twellman gets the nod simply because, based on their recent form with the nats, Twellman has looked better. He broke his duck in the January friendlies, and he was unlucky to have had near misses or legitimate goals called back before he finally scored for the nats. Like Olsen, Twellman goes balls-out every game, which can only help. Twellman, if he makes the final roster, will probably be the last forward off the bench. And if Ching lights it up in MLS over the next three weeks and Twellman doesn't score at all, it's possible Ching gets the call over Twellman.

So that's one man's prediction as to who the final 23 on our roster will be. Now we just have to wait until May 3, when Bruce announces the actual roster.

Waldo v. Arena

2006-04-10T14:41:00.000-04:00

I just discovered this amusing article written back in February about Eric Wynalda's and Bruce Arena's man crushes on Taylor Twellman and Brian McBride, respectively. I don't know how I missed it earlier, but there are some great quotes:

"I'll just say it -- Bruce Arena has a love affair with Brian McBride," Wynalda said.
"Is he considered a soccer expert?" Arena skeptically questioned of Wynalda.

It's quotes like these that make me really love Waldo and Bruce. Waldo always speaks his mind, which keeps things fun, even if he does sometimes seem like he's a couple sandwiches short of a picnic (does anyone other than Waldo and Twellman's mom really think Twellman is the better forward than McBride right now?).

And then, of course, there's Bruce getting his panties in a wad about Wynalda's comments. Another coach would have just said something along the lines of "Eric and I will just have to disagree on that point." Not Bruce. Instead, he questions the soccer knowledge of the #1 all-time leading American goal-scorer, who has been capped over 100 times, played in three world cups, and torn up the bundesliga, scoring nine goals in his first ten games, before the Germans broke his leg. In my mind, Arena gets away with saying things like that only because he's been so successful as a coach -- he's succeeded at every level, winning NCAA Division I titles repeatedly with UVa, winning MLS titles repeatedly with DC United, qualifying for the World Cup repeatedly, and earning the US a spot in the quarterfinals of the '02 World Cup. As much as Arena's arrogance sometimes drives me crazy, at the end of the day I have to admit that Arena has earned the right to be arrogant.

JOB to Chivas USA

2006-04-04T15:56:00.000-04:00

Earlier speculations have been confirmed: Chivas USA has signed US midfielder, ex-Ajax player and WC2002 star John O'Brien. A short list of what's great about this move:

JOB is back in the WC mix. Only a month or so ago, I'd basically written off the possibility that he'd be able to recover in time for or contribute to the American World Cup effort. But with absolutely no time left to spare, it looks like JOB is healthy and will have a couple months of games to get match-fit for the tournament. Given how much vision and talent he brings, this is wonderful news for the US.
Chivas is no longer a joke. Chivas USA weren't just the worst team in MLS last year, they were one of the worst teams in MLS history, ever. This new-look side seems to have much more going for it, at least if Sunday's 3-0 pasting of Real Salt Lake is any indication. However, with Ante Razov, Ryan Suarez, and now John O'Brien, they're a team of real credibility that should be hard for anyone to beat, and a lock to make the playoffs. Plus, think of the implications for the LA derby. Last year it was less a derby than a humiliation in four parts (though it did save the Galaxy's playoff hopes with twelve points). With Landon facing off against JOB, this is a match that all US fans will want to tune in to.
Chivas is no longer (largely) using a racial/ethnic standard in choosing players. I am always happy to see any new ownership enter the league, but I was skeptical of Vergara and Chivas last year because it seemed that one element of his project--selecting a largely hispanic team--drew the kind of racial lines that have long been rejected in American public life. The new-look 2006 Chivas appear to have laid that bad experiment to rest, with JOB's hiring the final nail in that particular coffin. This is great news for C-USA's fans, who comprise a major hinchada behind the goal but suffered through some awful performances in '05. Their loyalty deserves a good team, and it does them a disservice to prioritize some sense of racial identity at the cost of putting the best possible team on the field.

The sole caveat: I hope he can stay healthy. Of course, this is always a concern with O'Brien, who's played around eight Eredivisie games during his last three years in Holland. But you have to play if you want to get match-fit, and you play there's always some risk of injury. All things considered, this is a great development.

Additional note: best moment from the press conference was JOB giving his remarks in Spanish, English, and (to some extent) in Dutch. I like the idea that C-USA will retain indicia of its Mexican identity as a part of the Guadalajara organization, but I'm also glad that the idea of a largely hispanic roster has been abandoned.

A concern: a reporter asked JOB if he's 100% (as his agent claimed he was). JOB said he's not, but that he'll be working to get back into games over the next month. Apparently the latest health setback was a groin injury not the calf-and-hamstring issues that had plagued him in the past.

US-Jamaica roster notes

2006-04-04T14:45:00.000-04:00

The 18-man roster for the Jamaica friendly on April 11 in Cary, NC is out. My reading of these particular tea leaves:

We're not taking this one too seriously. If we were, Tony Meola wouldn't be in goal; instead, Bruce would be taking the opportunity to get a look at some of the MLS-based keepers (Guzan, Cannon, Hartman).
JOB! It's been almost a year since he played for the US, scoring the goal that tied Honduras in the semifinals of the Gold Cup (a great win for us that was buried because we had so many other great moments in 2005). Btw, no indication of his club status leaked in the roster; he's listed as "out of contract."
My guess as to the lineup: a 3-5-2, with Dunivant, Pope, and Hejduk in the back; some combination of Ching, TT, EJ, and Wolff up top; and then Landon as AM, Mastro and JOB as D-mids; and then Noonan on the right and Clint on the left. This is more to get our best guys on the field than to put everyone in their natural positions.
The forwards have the most to prove. The backline is likely set and going to consist of European players. But with the exception of McBride, our forwards will be MLS-based, and who's going remains very much undetermined. E.g., imagine if Twellman plays terribly but Ching bags a hat trick. Does this mean you take Brian based on recent form (including four goals for the Dynamo last weekend)? Probably not, but a hard call.
Expectations? I think we'll do a number on Jamaica. Our guys are going to be taking this one real serious, since it's the last chance to show Bruce what they've got before the WC roster is announced in early May. Look for the forwards especially to pour in on as they seek the few remaining spots, which as I said above remain up in the air.

Dave Eggers on soccer

2006-04-03T13:17:00.000-04:00

About five years back, people were crapping their pants over Dave Eggers' A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. It seemed like--and, to be fair, kind of became--the next big literary thing. It was pitch-perfect for the time. For the literati, there was the cheeky, outre title; the hyperliterate, stream-of-consciousness narrative; and the name-dropping scenesterism of the book's setting in tech-boom 1990s San Francisco. For the hoi polloi, there was the de rigeur tearjerker narrative: Eggers' parents tragically dying of cancer in the same year, leaving him grieving and left to care for his younger brother. Oprah fans and snooty lit-crit types fawned.

Myself, I didn't care for it. The dying-parents thing was terribly, genuinely sad, especially when you throw in the orphaned-little-brother bit. But after the truly heartbreaking intro, the rest seemed kind of like a fairly flat narrative. I occasionally found myself intrigued to see how Eggers got along as a twentysomething parent, but for the most part nothing in the book seemed to match the opening. And for all the laudatory commentary about his writing style, it seemed to me like verbal gymnastics--enormously skilled but expressively kind of empty. My verdict was that Eggers was 80% hype, 20% content--not in the same league as David Foster Wallace or Jonathan Franzen.

Wait, is there a link to soccer here? Oh right: Eggers has an essay in the Observer about soccer, with a sure-to-annoy title, "American sports are played with the hands. Using your feet is for commies." Once again, we're treated to an explanation for why soccer will never catch on in the US. As a prior matter, though, let me point out that the soccerphiles in the US who are going apopleptic over the title are missing the point. Eggers makes it abundantly clear that he finds the "soccer is for commies" thesis ignorant and moronic. The gym teacher who first propounded the theory to Eggers is given the unsubtle pseudonym "Moron McCheeby" in case you had any doubts. Jim Rome may say something like this and expect to be taken seriously; Eggers obviously does not.

That said, what of Eggers' take on soccer's inevitable failure to gain popularity in the US? His first point is that the US only likes sports it can claim to have invented: baseball, NFL football, basketball. This seems partly right. The big three are (more or less) our own inventions. But is this a correlation or a causation? Hockey is doing fine, and it's plainly not American-made (if anything, it's the brainchild of our sissy neighbors to the north). Nor do Americans have any problem with golf or tennis, each of which have European origins. At the very least, it seems that the US is open to sports that aren't of native extraction, even if they may not be included in the pantheon.

The second point is a bit more interesting: Americans detest soccer because of the diving. This seems true to an extent. I've spoken to soccer-hating friends who raise diving as an example of why they don't like the sport. But this seems to get the causation mixed up again. Most people who hate soccer just hate it; then they go nuts over diving as a way of cementing their preexisting opinion. There is, as any marginally informed observer knows, no necessary correlation between diving and soccer. Some soccer cultures--Latin ones, in particular, this fan of Portuguese soccer admits with regret--feature frequent and egregious diving. The British leagues and MLS, by contrast, do not.

Nor does the presence of diving necessarily ruin a sport for Americans. I was watching the Lakers/Sonics game on Friday night and heard the announcers praise Kobe for learning to "sell a foul"--that is, exaggerate contact and flop on the floor to draw a whistle. In other words, dive. He had, the commentators reported, learned this skill from the true master, Magic Johnson. One sport's praiseworthy craftiness is another sport's damnable cheating.

But it takes a theory to beat a theory, so what do I think about the future of soccer in the US? First, I think it will remain a niche sport, much closer in scope and popularity to tennis than to NFL football. But as soccer specific stadiums proliferate, MLS edges closer to financial self-sufficiency, with profitability lurking just around the corner. Second, the long-term viability of MLS will eventually see American soccer stars enjoy a B-level kind of celebrity. Landon Donovan is getting close to this level now. He's not Barry Bonds, but perhaps someday will be more like an Andre Agassi. The better the US does at the World Cup, the faster this transition will be. Third, as globalization continues to break down national borders, soccer will creep into the American national consciousness, whether the haters like it or not. During WC1990, I would never have heard of Diego Maradona unless my soccer-obsessed Spanish teacher had mentioned him. These days, world soccer stars, teams, and events are a marginal, but noticeable part of our sports culture. Among students at my school, people at the gym, and strangers walking along the street I encounter with increasing frequency jerseys advertising Arsenal, Real Madrid, or Man United. Admittedly, I'd rather see DC United or the Fire repesented sartorially, but it's a move in the right direction, and it's a move that's inevitable.

MLS Day 1 and the USMNT

2006-04-02T02:12:00.000-04:00

Gameday 1 of MLS season XI is in the books, and there's plenty of fodder for thinking about its implications for the national team. Viz.,

Until the Fire lost the thread in the last twenty minutes or so of their 3-2 loss to FC Dallas, Chris Rolfe was the best player on the field. He set up the first Chicago goal with some nice moves, scored a great second on the volley, and nearly had the third that might have deflated FCD and put things away for the Fire. As Waldo noted in his inimitably rude commentary, Rolfe looked nervous in his last outing for the MNT, against Guatemala, causing a lot of followers to write him off. But after watching him play today, I wonder if commentators (self included) were too quick to dismiss him. Yes, he's untried, but do we have another forward who has his kind of skills and upside?
Eddie Johnson scored in his debut for Kansas City, and it was a nice one. After last year's turf toe disaster, the goal for EJ is to get into form before the World Cup. If he can manage that, he'll definitely get minutes, especially after scoring in his first game back against Guatemala and looking strong against Germany. Based on what we saw yesterday, EJ seems to be on the right track, both physically and mentally.
Clint Dempsey had a nice series of moves, including an impressive backheel-to-self, during the first half of New England's 1-0 win over Los Angeles. Marcelo Balboa used the opportunity to compare Clint to Ronaldinho. Hm. He then noted that Clint might use the World Cup to open up some Euro teams' wallets for a major transfer fee, and illustrated the possibility with the example of Pablo Mastroeni, whose stellar performance in WC02 resulted in . . . a return to the Colorado Rapids. Celo, you were a great defender with a strangely effective Chileno, but seriously, lay off the crack, at least when you're announcing.
JOB trained with Chivas USA earlier this week. Are the Goats getting closer to landing the oft-hampered ex-Ajacied? Update: according to a second-hand account of an interview with Bruce Arena and Thomas Rongen, JOB is going to sign with C-USA very soon.
Kenny Cooper came up huge with a game-winning goal as a sub for FCD. He looked huge, too, because he is, going at least 6'3" with a large frame. For the past few years there have been rumblings about Cooper's performance for the Man United youth teams, but after loan spells to Academica Coimbra in Portugal and Oldham Athletic in the English second division, Man U released him. It's a puzzling decision, since he never seemed to get a real shot with the first team, but Dallas is certainly happy to take ManU's castoffs. And based on what I saw yesterday, this kid has got to get a shot with the Nats at some point, if only because he has the kind of physical presence that none of our other forwards bring.
Update: Brian Ching scored four for the Dynamo in their 5-2 win over Colorado, after his last outing for the Nats pretty much sealed his fate as a World Cup spectator. So good in MLS, so mediocre for the Nats. I suppose it just shows how much of a leap there is from American professional soccer to the top international level. Fun fact: Brian's total goals from today exceed by one the total he's scored in his entire career for the USMNT.

Book review: Franklin Foer's How Soccer Explains the World (2004)

2006-04-01T15:35:00.000-04:00

When this book came out a few years back, I avoided it for two reasons. The public reason—the reason I told friends who recommended it or told myself when I resisted checking out a copy from the library—was that it was the functional equivalent of Simon Kuper’s Football Against the Enemy, which came out a good decade before Foer’s book. But the private reason—the one I never told anyone and refused even to acknowledge to myself—was that I was jealous.

I knew Foer back in the early 1990s, when we were both at (embarrassingly enough) debate camp at Dartmouth College over the summer. He went by “Frankie” then (and I still think “Frankie Foer” sounds better than the author’s current nom de guerre, though I can understand why a serious political journalist wouldn’t want to be known as “Frankie”), and was one of a million kids who made me jealous because he went to a fancy prep school and took electives like “The Cultural Revolution in China” rather than being forced (as I was) to endure countless courses on Catholic marriage, all of which boiled down to a priest or embittered emasculated middle-aged man imploring us not to have sex (which, given the acne-ridden, scrawny dork that I was in high school, was really not an issue anyway).

Lord almighty that was a long sentence. Kind of irrelevant, too. Point is, when I saw in 2004 that someone I knew had been paid to travel around the world watching and writing about soccer while I moldered in an office working at a corporate law job that I hated, I was overcome with a new and improved kind of jealousy. So I turned my nose up at the book, dismissing it as derived from Kuper’s earlier work, and forgot about it. Forgot, that is, until I was recently reminded of its existence by a colleague who shot down my theory that it was functionally equivalent to Football Against the Enemy. So I read it. And the truth is, I was missing out. How Soccer Explains the World is a wonderful book.

To begin with a beef—one of my few and an admittedly minor one—I’m not a huge fan of the title. I don’t think soccer does much explanatory work. I think soccer is a reflection of various world problems, a site in which cultural anxieties and conflicts are manifested—kind of like a mood ring for societies and nations. Thus soccer doesn’t really do the explaining; it seems like the opposite is true. The title of the book should really be How the World Explains Soccer, though that hardly sounds as provocative. I suspect this might have been a move pushed by a publisher to amp up the book’s sexiness, in the same way that the book How the Irish Saved Civilization likely sold better than it would have had it been titled The Continuity of Classical Culture in Ireland During the Middle Ages.

While this book is a good primer for the novice, any football fan will find it illuminating. Some of the facts are more familiar (the section on Barca is largely adapted from Jimmy Burns’ seminal history of the team), but the history and detail in, for example, the chapters on football in Milosevic’s Belgrade and Islamist Tehran are great pieces of sociological as well as sports analysis. And even where the informed soccer fan knows the basic facts, some of the stories are hilarious and kind of scary (my jealousy for Foer declined when I read about his being cornered by angry Serbians or Rangers fans).

It’s easy of course to like a book this much when you see a lot of yourself in it. Frankie had me at hello. The first lines of his book—“I suck at soccer”—could as easily have been spoken by me, and his rationale for following the sport—trying to expiate a long-felt sense of inadequacy from being useless during AYSO games—rang true as well. Also resonant was the chapter on soccer and cultural division in America (a topic Kuper’s book doesn’t touch). I think Foer gets it exactly right. A huge part of the reason that soccer has a hard time catching on in America is that huge swaths of the nation think of it as foreign, and in turn think of things that are foreign as objectionable and threatening. These are American isolationists, and their cultural opposites—people like me—who prefer to downplay the importance of international borders and see commonality with people of other countries—welcome American participation in world events as a way of bridging these gaps.

That said, Foer’s book meets my admittedly unsophisticated standard: I consider a book good if I look forward to reading it and have a tough time putting it down. I’m glad I got past my jealousy and read it; I would have been missing out otherwise.

DVD Review: “Hooligans and Thugs: Soccer’s Most Violent Fan Fights” (2003)

2006-03-26T21:03:00.000-04:00

As usual, let’s start with the verdict: your life will hardly be incomplete if you never see Hooligans and Thugs. It’s basically a series of spliced together clips of football violence—inside and outside stadiums—set to an irritating techno soundtrack, with no unifying thread other than occasional narration from Steve Jones of the Sex Pistols. So is there anything redeeming about this film?

For one thing, it’s hard to say what one might of some hooligan-related books and movies: this film doesn’t glorify fan violence. Just the opposite—it made me want to steer as clear of scenes involving hooliganism as possible, not only out of concern for my safety but also because there was nothing attractive or heroic about any of the scenes. Maybe I’m alone in this, but if you’re watching a bunch of drunk fat guys kick the crap out of each other and you discover yourself saying “That’s the life for me!” then I stand corrected. And I’d also suggest a long heart-to-heart with your analyst.

This isn’t to say that I join with the guy who wrote the voiceover for this film and posed the weary and vaguely sanctimonious question “We all watch this and ask ourselves one question—why?” I didn’t ask this because I think the answer’s obvious. If you have an id and have read any of the more thoughtful books on this topic (Buford’s Among the Thugs being the best, I think), you can’t help but understand the answer. The hooligan fights for the same reason that the alcoholic drinks or the druggie shoots up: it provides a high that allows you escape from the humdrum nature of your daily life. You don’t have to have any interest in antisocial behavior to get why others do it.

So if you get this point and you’re not particularly interested in the topic (and you haven’t sworn to watch every soccer movie in existence, like I have), is there anything to be learned from watching Hooligans and Thugs? Perhaps. There’s one scene where cops tear-gas a pub during Euro2000 where some English hooligans are rumored to be hanging out. But when people come streaming out of the bar, holding their faces and barfing from the gas, it’s not a gang of hools bum-rushing the cops, but just a bunch of fat, confused, drunk England supporters. The line is fine, but the lesson is clear: stay way the hell away from anything approaching a hooligan scene because police enforcement casts a wide and indiscriminate net (something of particular salience to anyone traveling to Germany this summer).

And like a lot of similarly themed productions, Hooligans and Thugs has an ambivalent attitude toward police enforcement. I’m not uncritically enthusiastic about police methods as a general matter, but it seems like in this case the no-tolerance approach makes sense. Also puzzling to me was the narrator’s observation that it’s objectionable when police possess apparent zeal for whacking rioting fans with clubs and otherwise using force during confrontations. There’s something mildly unsettling about a cop enjoying smashing hooligans, but at least this cop is directing his lust for violence toward solving rather than creating a social problem. And it’s hard to imagine what the alternative would be—a bunch of pacifist policemen who tried to negotiate with a drunken violent mob?

The best thing about this film is Steve Jones’ turn as the narrator. He addresses the viewers as “cunts” and “slags” and appears in a variety of crazy getups—a medieval knight, an English bobby, and (to introduce a section on violence in Latin America) a sombrero-wearing, enormous-moustache-sporting, serape-draped cholo. The absurdist comic relief works well against the monotonous violence of the main feature. And at the end, Jones (addressing us as he sits on the can) abjures any preachiness. “That’s the end,” he says, “Did you lot learn anything? I doubt it.” Sounds about right. Despite the lurid goriness of its subject matter, Hooligans and Thugs is, all things considered, kind of a snooze.

Germany 4:1 US--Final thoughts

2006-03-25T12:24:00.000-04:00

Before this game, Kasey Keller did an interview with German press in which he responded to some snotty question about the upcoming game by saying, "No one wants to get their ass kicked." Then, of course, that's exactly what happened to the US. The response has been like nothing else I've seen in the aftermath of an MNT game. Bruce Arena apologized (at least, took responsibility) for the decision to play the friendly at all. Kasey Keller had a sweary tirade with the media in which he excoriated his teammates for their poor play. The same video shows downcast US players struggling to say anything positive about their loss to Germany.

But was it really such a disaster? Despite the disgust I felt immediately after the game, which is reflected in my first post about it, there's quite a bit that's good to take away. If Cory Gibbs can continue to play that well in his natural position of centerback as he did at left back against Germany, I think we have our backline straightened out: Dolo--Gibbs--Gooch--Lewis (though some might be more skeptical that Eddie is the solution at left back). We also have a great left wing supersub (starter?) available in Bobby Convey. And then there's the notion that this team was able to play Germany to a virtual standstill for seventy minutes. That is, of course, not close to sufficient in a ninety minute game, but it's still not bad given the second-string lineup we trotted out.

Another interesting point is that Bruce and crew were so mad (or bummed) after the loss. There was a time when the US team would have said "Hey, no big deal, we lost to Germany--that's to be expected." Even after our 4-2 loss against the same team back in 2002, the response was basically sanguine--we were outclassed, it was to be expected, c'est la vie. This time, the sense seems to be that no US team that ever takes the field should ever be humiliated. That was my feeling after the final whistle blew, and it seems to be reflected in the response from Bruce and the squad. It may not be a reasonable expectation under the circumstances, but it shows that standards have raised considerably. We've come a long way in terms of quality and reputation, and now we have the expectation to go along with it.

Germany 4:1 US--Player analysis

2006-03-24T12:51:00.000-04:00

As I wrote earlier, this game was all (well, mostly) about individual performances for us. So what can we take away from it? Whose stock is up and whose has gone down?

Blue-chippers on the rise:

Gibbs: He was one of the main ones to watch this game. A bad game could have scuttled his World Cup chances altogether, but he truly rose to the occasion. He played Gerald Asamoah tough from the get-go and basically marked him out of the game. He also came forward well along the left, and got a shot off early that was earmarked for the far corner if it hadn’t been well-defended by Josh Wolff.

Convey: The only player all game long who could create danger with the ball at his feet. Other players did well with a shot or a pass, but Convey ran down the left all day long, with creativity and skill. He’s definitely going to be on the roster come June, perhaps as a super-sub (a role in which I think he’d excel) or even as a starter if DMB doesn’t improve his game. (Also, did you know that according to some ranking system he’s the best player in the English first division?)

Johnson: Not the post-injury breakout game that I’m still waiting for (perhaps against Jamaica?), but he showed something I didn’t think he had in him: a tough, hard-fought ninety minutes. EJ was well marked but provided our only danger on set pieces, twice getting headers on goal (that would have resulted in at least one score against a lesser goalie than Oliver Kahn). Plus, he tracked back well on defense, and was as responsible as Dolo for the flukey goal we scored, bearing down on Kahn to create danger even in minute 86 of a game we were losing 4-0. He still needs to improve his first touch and link up better with teammates (both making and seeing runs off the ball), but based on what I saw today I’m excited to see what he’ll bring after some MLS seasoning.

They’re dogs with fleas—dump ‘em:

Berhalter: largely responsible for the three goals we gave up toward the end. The second and fourth goals were the result of some miscommunication, though Gregg was beat on the second, and was standing in the box as Ballack headed in the fourth. So those two might be partially on Conrad, but the third was all Berhalter, with the awful giveaway gifting Klose a chance clean in on goal. Shades of the turnover to Adriano that created Brazil’s only goal in their 1-0 defeat of us during the 2003 Confederations Cup. He shouldn’t be on the roster, but Bruce loves him, so I fear he may be.

Ching: two good moments. A nice shot on goal that forced Kahn to save well in the tenth minute, then he battled well to win a 50-50 ball in the box, but was wrongly whistled for the foul (the ref likely didn’t want to whistle it on the German player who did commit the foul—that would have meant calling a penalty). In sixty minutes, that’s not nearly enough production. Ching is a good guy, and a solid MLS player, but not good enough at this level.

Conrad: not as bad as Berhalter, and in fact very good in the first half and up until the minute 70 debacle. He even went forward a few times and had a decent chance on goal (that he flubbed, not surprisingly). But two of the three late goals were partly due to his hesitation and miscommunication, and when the US defense was in pieces late on, he was a major contributor. Centerbacks have to be steady 100% of the time. JC’s not at that level yet, and while he will be important for us in Gold Cup and Concacaf games, I doubt he’ll ever be a world-class defender.

Zavagnin: A few decent moments, but basically invisible. He’s like Pablo in that you don’t notice him that much, but unlike Pablo in that he doesn’t have the same ability to control and calm the midfield. When you’re a holding midfielder and you’re not effective at holding possession, you shouldn’t be on the team. I don’t see him on the final roster.

Klein: He was only on the roster thanks to Noonan’s injury, and only got in the game thanks to Wolff’s injury. Barring a similar series of lucky breaks, he won’t be on the World Cup squad, especially after his consistently unimpressive play on Wednesday.

Unchanged after heavy trading:

Keller. He really can’t be blamed for any of the four goals. In his best moments, he’d come up with wonder saves on some of the breakaways and point blank chances, but when you leave Ballack wide open in the middle of the eighteen-yard box or allow Klose to run in unmarked on goal, you can’t hold the goalkeeper responsible for the resulting score. His angry reaction after the game suggests that he’s emerged as the unquestioned team leader as well.

Dolo. Another typically great game from someone who’s locked into the starting XI as solidly as any of our players. Plus, have we ever had anyone score from behind the midfield stripe? Hey, maybe he’s the solution to our striker problems…

Mastro: Celo Balboa called it right—Mastro is steady. He knows his role and executes within it, helping give the midfield coherence and stability. It’s no coincidence that right around the time he was subbed out in the second half, things began to go to pieces. Reyna is probably better and deserves the start if healthy, but even if Claudio’s unavailable, I think we’ll be OK with Pablo shoring up the midfield.

Germany 4:1 US--Initial reactions

2006-03-23T01:12:00.000-04:00

Being a good opinion writer means knowing when to admit you’ve made a mistake, and not having to do so very often. A couple posts ago, I brazenly asserted that “[a]s long as we avoid a confidence-deflating result (and this US team is probably too good to get embarrassed), we’ll be fine.” Now technically, this is a true statement, but it’s the part in parentheses that I feel obligated to retract. After today’s 4-1 loss to Germany, it’s pretty clear that we’re not “too good to get embarrassed,” and that disappoints and upsets me.

It disappoints me because we were playing so damn well for 70 minutes. The first two-thirds of this game made me feel as good about the US team as I’ve felt since 2002 in the Cup itself. If it were our full-strength squad holding their own against Germany’s A-team in Dortmund, I’d be pleased but not entirely surprised. But for this B-list group to be doing the same—that was impressive and inspiring.

Then Neuville scored, and the next twenty minutes are why I’m upset. In Bill Buford’s Among the Thugs, the author infiltrates a group of Man U hooligans, and is told that there’s no shame in losing a fight “as long as you don’t shit yourself.” That is, as long as you don’t panic and lose your composure. Today, after Neuville’s goal, the US shat itself.

Until then, I was unconcerned about the scoreline. But for a fluke goal from Schweinsteiger and an unbelievable save by Kahn off an EJ header, we could have easily led. But the way we played after the seventieth minute reminded me of the old US squad: intimidated, panicky, mistake-prone, outclassed. We’ve seen touches of this US team in recent years, but we’ve largely laid it to rest. Yet the memories are so bad—the ten or so minutes at Azteca where we let in both goals in WCQ 2005, the early going against Poland in WC 2002, the 2002 friendly versus Germany in which we also gave up three goals in ten or so minutes—that they leave a really bad taste in the mouth.

Now to be fair, lots of teams have bad outings. This Germany side just got embarrassed by Italy by the same scoreline (a fact that does not reassure me considering that we’re about to play Italy), and every so often a result like this has to happen, so it might as well be in a friendly. And of course there are the standard excuses about how this was a B-team, Germany was super-motivated, etc. (Though it really burns me up that Germany bragged about routing us, and then did just that.)

But at the end of the day, it’s not the loss but the way we lost that bothers me. We have a really strong team, as we showed for 70 minutes, but we still struggle for respect on the world stage, and looking like headless chickens for 20 minutes can’t do much for our confidence. Ultimately, it’s probably just a bump in the road. Bruce will bring perspective, and no doubt also hone a fine squad for the big dance. But confidence is key to performing well in sports, and I wonder if this result may have exacted a greater toll in confidence and loss of face than it produced in practice and learning about players. As for the latter, I’ll save it for my next post. As for the US, go buy some toilet paper and clean yourselves off.

Pre-match anxieties--real and imagined

2006-03-22T12:58:00.000-04:00

It would be nice to think that when I sleep, I dream of liaisons with Victoria's Secret models, but as last night attests, this is not (well, at least not always) the case, as I had what can only be described as a prophetic vision regarding today's exhibition versus Germany. The details are a tad hazy, but went something like this: Germany goes up an early goal (by, I think, Ballack) and adds a second before halftime. After the interval, they ease up, letting us pull one back. In a dramatic final move, a mazy run up the flank results in a pass and brilliant shot at the death to even the score. It ends 2-2, to our elation and to German frustration. Even in the sober light of day, this scenario doesn't seem terribly unreasonable. I can imagine the Germans pouring it on early, then taking their foot off the gas once they feel they've got a comfortable lead. And I can see us finally getting our heads together late on and pulling a couple goals back. Of course, the plausibility of this is belied by the fact that the dramatic late run to set up the final goal was made by non-roster player John O'Brien, and the player he passed to for the otherworldly game-tying final shot was, um, me. Hey, it's my dream, I can have it any way I want.

Anyway, when I awoke from my moment of imagined glory, I learned the sobering news that the power had gone out in my apartment building. Calls to the super proved useless. He once took over a week to respond to an emergency gas-leak situation, and when I rang him today he didn't even have his voicemail on. Normally, this is hardly an emergency: maybe I have to throw out some spoiled food, eventually I reset the electric clocks, nothing of major importance. However, today was different: no electricity meant no TiVo, and no TiVo meant no game. I'd be disappointed not to have a DVR-saved version of the telecast, since that would prevent me from watching the highlights over and over, but this emergency had an even darker side. Without TV access, I couldn't see the game live, and since I live in one of the bleakest most distant parts of Chicago (Hyde Park--"where fun goes to die"), this meant that I had to make emergency arrangements even to see the game live. A series of frantic calls to friends ensued (everyone at work, no place for me to see the mid-afternoon game), but then while I was looking up public venues, I heard the hum of the fridge. It had never sounded so sweet--the power was back on and all was right with the world, with a mere two hours til game time.

Adjusting expectations for the Germany friendly

2006-03-21T09:58:00.000-04:00

By the title of this post, I don’t mean “lowering our standards”, “preparing for defeat” or “getting the excuses ready.” Rather, I want to write about what the US can and should take away from tomorrow’s exhibition against Germany.

Start with the backdrop. The buildup to the game has raised the already-high stakes considerably--for our opponents, that is. The Germans got worked by Italy in their last friendly on March 1, setting off major rumblings among fans and DFB highers-up. Juergen Klinsmann has already received criticism—despite never having coached a competitive game—based in part on questions about his distance (literally and figuratively) from the team. The Italy game also drove down expectations about the Nationalmannschaft’s likelihood of success in the Cup, and in order to counter those expectations the Germans are looking for a cathartic goalfest of a victory against the US tomorrow in Dortmund. The Teutons are bringing their full complement of WC players to get the job done, and all expectations are that they’re going to rout the US.

For their part, the US go into this game with a depleted version of what was already a B-list roster. Our players from the English, Dutch, and Belgian leagues aren’t being called in (save for two players from Reading in the English second division), so it’s largely an MLS + Bundesliga side. From there, we’ve lost three players who likely would have started the Germany game (Dempsey, Hejduk, and most critically Donovan), so what we have left is hardly the most formidable version of the MNT.

For what it’s worth, German mag Kicker has predicted what seems to me the likeliest way the US XI will come out tomorrow: in a 4-4-2, with Keller between the pipes; a flat back four of Dolo, Pope, Gibbs, and Pearce; a box midfield with Olsen and Mastroeni behind Klein on the right and Convey on the left; and Twellman and Johnson up top. I suspect Conrad will see time as well, though likely in relief, perhaps for Pope if he tires in the second half (Eddie didn't practice yesterday because of back trouble). This midfield is an interesting deviation from the standard diamond setup, though it worries me because I think neither Olsen nor Klein are truly of international caliber.

The key to US success in this game will be avoiding being overwhelmed by the Germans when momentum swings in their favor. This is a team that can and does pile on goals when things are going well. I remember all too well how they Blitzkrieged us in the 2002 friendly, turning a relatively even 1-1 match into a 4-1 embarrassment in only about ten minutes. There’s also the famous 8-0 crushing of Saudi Arabia they broke out in the first game of the 2002 World Cup—another “message” game where Germany was seeking to counter whispers that they were a subpar unit. This means that I’ll be at my antsiest during the first 10-15 minutes of the game, when the Germans will be looking to put us away early; and then in the first several minutes after Germany scores (well, assuming they do score), because they have a tendency to get goals in bunches.

But to return to the title of this post, what can the US expect from this game? Most of the predictions I’ve seen have said that a draw would be a great result, and a one-goal loss would be fine. Considering that the Germans are at full strength, playing at home, and badly need a victory; and that the US is in the midst of a solid run-up to the Cup and using a depleted version of what would have been a shadow of their WC roster, that seems about right to me. And in a way, this is great, since it means we have nothing to lose. If the Germans need a win so badly, then they can have this one—we’re inevitably going to lose some games, and if this exhibition match is one of them, then it’s simply not that big a deal. Of course, one does wonder just how much the massive expectations might cause Germany to freeze under pressure. However, I don’t want to write off the possibility of a positive result; I just want to stress that we shouldn’t think about this game solely in terms of the final scoreline. As long as we avoid a confidence-deflating result (and this US team is probably too good to get embarrassed), we’ll be fine.

So what should we look for out of this game? Given how many key players are missing, I think it’s all about focusing on individual performances. What can Cory Gibbs show us after a long, injury-related layoff? Will Heath Pearce impress, or is the mediocre form he showed in the friendlies earlier this year an indication that he’s not of international caliber? Will we finally see Eddie Johnson score against a truly world-class opponent, or can he shine only against mid-level Concacaf foes? Could Benny Feilhaber provide a late spark, suggesting that he could be a dark horse in the mix for a midfield spot on the WC roster? These are the questions that will be worth asking tomorrow, keeping an eye on the big picture rather than the result itself.

More media:

This is a typically astute overview of the game from Yanks Abroad.
And this AP article reflects on the enormous pressure the Germans are feeling to get a big result tomorrow.

Some solipsistic notes

2006-03-21T09:06:00.000-04:00

Let me clear up a misconception: I am not living in, nor writing from, Germany. I realize my blog's title may be confusing on this score. It refers to the original conception of this project, which was to memorialize my upcoming trip to see the USMNT compete in the World Cup, much as I memorialized my trip through Central Europe in blog form last summer. It's since become broader, including general commentary on the USMNT as well as MLS. But as of now, I live in the states and am not, as they say, a Yank Abroad.

That said, when June rolls around this will become less of a soccer news and analysis blog and more of a travelblog, to include reflections on my experience of being a US fan in Berlin during the world's greatest sports event. Also forthcoming: travel-related details that may be of use to other fans planning a trip to Germany. In particular, I need to straighten out my train travel plans: buy a Weltmeister pass on the DB, make reservations for Kaiserslautern and Nurnberg, etc. Note to self: do that soon.

Also, shout-outs to two fine soccer bloggers who have added me to their blogrolls. Climbing the Ladder is doing some very interesting stat-crunching these days, and is named after one of the many bizarre yet lovable cliches employed by the late, great ESPN soccer announcer Jack Edwards (where are you, bro?). Pseudo Corner Kick features snappy news and commentary on the MNT, and rightly made fun of me for the verbosity of my verbiage. When I get to creating a blogroll of my own, I'll be sure to include these two first.

JOB 100% healthy and coming to MLS

2006-03-20T12:30:00.000-04:00

...reports Yanks Abroad. This is huge news on both levels. Let's consider the first part first. If JOB is truly at full health, that's unalloyed good news for the US. As possibly the most talented player ever to take the field for us, he could shore up our midfield in a defensive role, play left mid, or even slot in at left back.

But can we be so confident that he really is back to full health? The quote in Y-A was from his agent, so should be taken with a healthy dose of salt. And even if it is true that JOB is 100%, that doesn't mean he's match-fit. ADO Den Haag doesn't seem to want him, and so one might say that if a team at the bottom of the Dutch Eredivisie isn't interested, perhaps something is amiss that should concern us as well. There is of course time to train into match fitness before the Cup (particularly if JOB goes to MLS), but then again what's to say that this isn't just the prelude to another injury? I love the guy, but JOB has been to injury-prone for me to feel confident that he can stay fit between now and June. But Lord I hope he does--even if we have to cover him in bubble wrap until the team arrives in Hamburg.

So what about the second part, O'Brien to MLS? This is still in the rumor stage, though talks are apparently ongoign with an undisclosed team. The soccerati have all kinds of opinions about where JOB will end up, many of which reflect an impressive understanding of the byzantine MLS salary-cap and player-allocation rules. The long and short of it seems to be that the frontrunners are Chivas USA and the Galaxy, given JOB's preference for SoCal (man, can I relate to that).

Chivas would be my preferred destination for John between the two. I don't think it does MLS any good to have a terrible loser of a franchise, so while I have no love for Chivas and think that the whole project was shakily conceived, since we're stuck with them, getting a quality player with star potential would be positive for the league overall. Plus, CUSA have seemingly given up the weird ethnic restriction thing they had been implementing during their first season, so JOB would be a good addition in this direction.

JOB might also go to the other LA team, not unlikely since he's been training with the Galaxy earlier this year during his rehab. The Galaxy already have Donovan, so the idea of arguably our two best midfielders playing for the same MLS team could create huge talent disparity issues. Of course, is this bad? Some might say no--that to have the equivalent of a SuperClub in MLS would galvanize support either in favor of or against the unusually strong team. I'm not sure about this; I wasn't an MLS supporter in the early years so I can't speak for what the feeling was like about DC United when it won three of the first four Championships (and was in all the first four finals).

Bottom line, JOB at full strength would be great--and unexpected--news. JOB in MLS would also be a major positive. It's too early to start counting on anything, though; the best move is to wait and see how this turns out.

Hejduk out, Feilhaber in for Germany friendly

2006-03-19T19:59:00.000-04:00

The injury bug I wrote about yesterday continues. Now Frankie Hejduk has a strained hamstring that will keep him out for a few weeks, meaning that we're going to see plenty of Heath Pearce (I suppose) on Wednesday against Germany. Based on his performances in the January and February friendlies, I'm not feeling positive about the change.

One interesting twist is that Hejduk will be replaced by 21-year-old Hamburg midfielder Benny Feilhaber. This doesn't quite make sense to me; we're losing a defender and gaining a middie (albeit a defensive one). But Bruce's hands were tied. This Wednesday isn't a FIFA-sanctioned friendly day, so it's harder to get teams outside the Bundesliga to release players. Given that our choices were limited, and Feilhaber was right there in Hamburg, it's the best of a limited slate of options.

I hope Benny gets a chance to play, though. He's Brazilian-born, so there's some chance that he'd bring to the team the kind of flair that we don't really have much of otherwise. Then again, there's virtually no chance that he'll start the game, and it's unlikely that he'll come into a closely fought contest, so a few trash-time minutes at the end of a one-sided contest are about all we'll have a chance to see. But that could free up some time for Benny to show his creative side. I think Feilhaber could be an exciting part of the next WC cycle.

There's more injury-related news out of the US camp, unfortunately: in the same press conference where Bruce announced the selection of Feilhaber for Hejduk, he revealed that Brian McBride may have a sports hernia. I'm not sure what that means, but lord it doesn't sound good. It didn't slow Brian down much today, as he led Fulham to an impressive 1-0 defeat of Chelsea at Craven Cottage. Boa Morte scored the goal, but McBride earned rave reviews from the British press for his role in the victory.

Injuries and the USMNT

2006-03-18T13:00:00.000-04:00

Early reports are that Claudio Reyna left today's Man City-Wigan game in the 66th minute with an injury. As of now, I have no more info, though of course I'm hoping it's minor. But this reminds me that it seems like our top players are unusually injury prone:

JOB, nuff sed
Reyna, ditto
Josh Wolff's troubles were summed up nicely in a ThreeSixOne joke headline, "Josh Wolff injures self talking about latest injury"
McBride, until the last couple years seemed like he was always injured
DMB was out for part of 2005 with that nasty knee injury (though he bounced back well)
Gibbs is only just coming back from an injury he suffered almost a year ago
Dolo got that nasty injury in the gold cup quarters against Jamaica (though he too bounced right back)
Eddie Johnson was out with turf toe for the better part of 2005
Lots of guys who were in the US camp earlier this year have suffered injuries of varying seriousness (Noonan, LD, Dunivant)

I know injuries are part of the game, but it certainly seems to me that we have more than our share. I can't say for sure whether this is true, since I don't follow any other NT that closely. But if it is, what could explain it? Bad luck? The lower qualify of opposition in Concacaf, where opponents are likely to resort to fouls because they can't beat us fair and square? Anti-Americanism? I got nothin'.

KK sounds off

2006-03-17T13:32:00.000-04:00

Sometime in the past year or so, I became aware that Kasey Keller is not only an outstanding goalie and a team leader, but also a hilarious character. Did you know, for example, that he lives in a 1000-year-old castle outside Duesseldorf, complete with a moat? Did you know that Kasey was fined for singing along with Borussia Moechengladbach fans after a win over Cologne (apparently the song was slightly off-color). Did you know that Keller body-slammed his team's mascot (a man dressed in a plush foal costume) late last year?

It's the stuff of legends, but it's true. Now, in a more reflective moment, Kasey talks to FIFAWorldCup.com about the upcoming mundial, his recent form for club and country, and the rise of the USMNT (and the associated expectations). One tension Kasey raises but does not resolve is he regards the US as expected to get out of their group as a general matter "(Just getting to the World Cup is not enough."), but also seems to think that both Italy and the Czechs are better positioned to qualify for the Round of 16.

And bonus points for any reader who can explain why Kasey was good enough to make the World Cup team in 1990, start in goal for the US in 1998, but failed to be on the final roster in 1994?

LD on the DL

2006-03-16T23:56:00.000-04:00

The one player the US can't afford to lose, Landon Donovan, is lost to the US for the March 22 friendly versus Germany. The injury itself is not a big deal: Landon just has a calf strain that is going to take a few weeks to heal. We're not talking MCL tear or anything career- or even World Cup-threatening. But this is bad news for a couple reasons:

First off, we want to mount a credible threat to Germany. We don't need to win this game, but it would be good for our confidence to show well. Without Donovan, this is going to be much harder. He holds the keys to our offense, cemented like an unlucky mafioso's feet in the A-mid position. It's one thing to lose a wing back or even a forward, but the US without Donovan is __. My inability to complete that sentence is the point; he's so central to our team's identity that I'm not sure what we'd look like in his absence.

This suggests my second point of pessimism: in the absence of Donovan, we're not really playing like we will with him in the lineup. Thus it's a lot less meaningful to look at the players because their ability to combine well in a Donovan-led offense won't be on display. This is a marginal loss; Bruce will get a passable look nevertheless, but it's not ideal.

Which raises interesting questions. Most evidently, who plays A-mid? Convey? He never really shone in that position for DCU, but has been stellar for Reading, though I must admit I'm not sure if it's been as a left wing mid or a pure #10-style A-mid (I suspect the latter). This also opens up a spot on the left; who plays there with Convey in the center? These are all interesting questions, but since LD will almost certainly be on the field for the WC, they're kind of moot. I'd much rather see how Convey performs at left mid where he's likely to contribute for us in the Cup, than filling in at a position he'll likely not play for us this year.

Finally, the absence of Donovan and the angst it's causing US fans should remind us all how damned lucky we are to have Landon on our team. He takes way more crap than he deserves from MLS and US fans, largely related to the questionable conclusion that his move from Leverkusen last year was a sign of weakness. I've always been of the opinion that Landon deserves the utmost appreciation from US fans for his unquestioning committment to the team as well as his consistently excellent play. The fact that he shows up for every game leads some to take him for granted, but now that he's missing I hope the haters begin to realize just how integral Donovan is to our success.

US v. Tunisia in June?

2006-03-16T11:38:00.000-04:00

US fans disappointed with the underwhelming slate of pre-World Cup matches announced earlier this week can cautiously take heart in news announced by Reuters yesterday that we're in negotiations with Tunisia for a June friendly. The only date that they seek that also fits the US schedule would be June 2/3 in Tunis; they also want to play on May 27 (when the US alredy has a friendly scheduled) and have scheduled a match against Iran in Germany on June 7.

The North African side--nicknamed the "Carthage Eagles"--were winners of the 2004 African Cup of Nations and are regular World Cup qualifiers (the last time they failed to make the finals was 1994). Much has been made of the fact that this would afford us a chance to play against an African side in advance of meeting Ghana in the Cup, but I don't put much stock in this. The coincidence of two teams hailing from the same continent doesn't mean they'll have anything much in common, especially when you consider that Tunisia is much closer geographically and culturally to Europe than to sub-Saharan Africa. The reason this game is exciting is that it gives us a chance to compete against a challenging, WC-qualified team that will be in form for the upcoming tournament. Let's hope it comes together.

For what it's worth, the Tunisians seem to have the best luck in World Cup draws of any team out there. This time around, they're in the underwhelming group H with Spain, Ukraine, and 2002's WC embarrassment, Saudi Arabia. Last World Cup, the Carthage Eagles were in the undisputed group of life with Japan, Russia, and Belgium. In 1998, they had an average draw with Romania, England, and Colombia. Despite the kindness of Lady Luck, in those previous two tournaments, the Tunisians managed to garner only two points after two draws and a loss, scoring only two goals in the process (a penalty and a free kick).

Notes on roster for Germany friendly

2006-03-15T19:16:00.000-04:00

Today US Soccer released 19 names for the Germany friendly. They are:

Berhalter, Gregg
Cherundolo, Steve
Ching, Brian
Conrad, Jimmy
Convey, Bobby
Donovan, Landon
Gibbs, Cory
Hahnemann, Marcus
Hejduk, Frankie
Johnson, Eddie
Keller, Kasey
Klein, Chris
Mastroeni, Pablo
Olsen, Ben
Pearce, Heath
Pope, Eddie
Twellman, Taylor
Wolff, Josh
Zavagnin, Kerry

Reading the tea leaves of these rosters is always hard. There are a lot of different reasons you might be on the list:

You're a lock for the WC but you're needed in the roster to be able to mount a credible threat to Germany and allow other players to fit in (Donovan, Keller, Mastroeni, Dolo, Pope)
You're going to the WC but Bruce isn't sure what you bring and wants to see more of you (Twellman, Johnson, Convey)
You're on the bubble and Bruce wants to see if you can impress him enough to make the team (Ching, Zavagnin, Conrad, Berhalter, Hejduk, Gibbs, probably Hahnemann)
You wouldn't even be on the bubble based on past performance but you can play a position that's weak for us so Bruce wants to see if you'll do (Olsen, Pearce, Wolff, Klein)

There are also various reasons you may have been left off the roster:

You're a mortal lock for the WC but Bruce sees no reason to rock the club boat by calling you in (McBride, Beasely, Bocanegra, Reyna, Onyewu)
You were in the picture but now you're not, so Bruce has no need to see anything further (Casey, Rolfe--which kind of surprises me)
You punched out a teammate and are serving a two-week suspension for it (Dempsey)

The players with the most possible upside have to include Convey (great club form, exciting late sub in Poland friendly) and Johnson/Twellman (with a torrid run-in to the cup a spot in the starting XI will likely be yours).

How do I feel about this friendly? Cautiously pessimistic. Germany has a lot to prove in this game after their 4-1 drubbing by Italy, so they're looking to get some pre-Cup pride back, not just test out players. Given that we're on their home turf as well, I think there could be rough going if we're not sharp. But more on this as the game approaches.

Us? Fifth?

2006-03-15T17:26:00.000-04:00

The US continued its inexorable (and some might say inexplicable) climb up the FIFA world rankings with another jump this month to a new height, from tied for sixth place (with Mexico) to sole possession of fifth. Ahead of us are several undisputed world powers: Brazil (of course), the Czechs, Holland, and Argentina. According to FIFA, we're better than Spain, England, Italy, Portugal, and a bunch of other teams we actually are better than (like Mexico).

The FIFA rankings are a source of both pride and ire. The pride part derives from a monthly measure of something that can only be gained from much rarer head-to-head competition or tournament results: a sense of where your national team stands in relation to the world. Plus, the FIFA rankings are issued by the world's major soccer organization (hence some sense of authority), and they provide an enumerated ranking so you know exactly what they think of each team relative to others (unlike a tournament in which teams that go out at the same stage are regarded as roughly equal).

But anyone who knows much about how these rankings are derived and has a shred of sense about soccer understands that they're bunk, and thus that any pride people take in them is misplaced. The rankings are afflicted with a host of problems that I won't enumerate here, though most egregious among them is that they stretch back to an arbitrary point in years past, including all results after that benchmark and none before, and weighting all such results equally (so that last week's win over Croatia is perfectly though nonsensically offset by a loss to Croatia in 2003).

That's not to say that the rankings are irrelevant. This is a common misunderstanding. They're strongly related to whether you get a seed in your World Cup group. But now that we missed that boat (barely) the only thing the rankings are good for is increasing expectations; and I feel that this is a detriment since the US do better as a stealthy underdog. At the very least, though, the rankings illustrate what a tough draw Group E was for the US--it contains three of the world's top 12 teams.

US releases send-off series schedule

2006-03-13T15:31:00.000-04:00

So US Soccer has finalized the traditional three-game series that will precede the team's departure for the World Cup in Germany. We've got:

US v. Morocco in Nashville, TN 5/23
US v. Venezuela in Cleveland, OH 5/26
US v. Latvia in Hartford, CT 5/28

I've got to say this is a disappointment. First off, the teams are hardly exciting or challenging foes. None of these teams have qualified for the World Cup. In fact, Venezuela and Latvia have never qualified for any World Cup, while Morocco occasionally have a pretty respectable team in there (they were unlucky not to get out of a tricky group including Norway and Brazil back in 1998, the last time they made it to the finals). As I mentioned earlier, Latvia had a brief, surprising moment of glory back in 2003/2004 when they qualified for Euro2004, but that moment has since faded and now they're back to mid-level European mediocrity. As for Venezuela, they've improved in recent years as a soccer nation (their main sport being baseball), but they're not exactly Brazil. The US played them in a friendly back in 2003, winning comfortably, 2-0 (Kirovski, Donovan).

There are constraints, of course; we can't play against anyone we want, and this time is busy as all teams are trying to arrange friendlies to prepare for the World Cup or to get some practice. But still, last time out we managed to get Holland, Uruguay (then a WC qualified team), and Jamaica--a much more challenging and varied set of opponents. Even the 1998 trio (Scotland/Macedonia/Kuwait) included one team headed to the World Cup. But I don't think US Soccer made these choices out of laziness or ignorance; they were likely trying to get the best slate of teams possible under the circumstances, and this was it.

However, US Soccer did have control over where the friendlies were scheduled, and this is another reason I'm disappointed. Cleveland, Nashville, and Hartford seem to be designed to draw fans from the Midwest, South, and Eastern Seaboard respectively, but why pick three B-list cities? I'm biased but what about Atlanta, Chicago, and New York/Boston? These cities have larger populations and are bigger draws and better travel hubs. Last time around, I hosted a big group in DC, including people who drove in from out of town to see US v. Uruguay; I then flew up to Boston the next weekend to see friends there and to attend US v. Holland. I really don't see traveling to any of these matches; I don't know anyone in those cities and they're not attractive destinations independently of the games themselves (cue Nashville and Cleveland denizens outraged at my dismissing their great hometowns).

I suspect it might be related to the US decision to stage friendlies in cities without large populations of immigrants who will turn a home game into an away game with a show of support for the other team. But given the opponents, this can't be right. I really doubt that there are enough Moroccans, Venezuelans, or Latvians in any of the major US cities to take over the stadium. It's not like we're playing Mexico, where Tri supporters will travel from all over to pack in and boo the Yanks. And even if that were a risk, these are just exhibitions. The results don't really matter, and if anything it might be helpful for the US to get used to playing in front of a hostile crowd (since it's a safe bet that at least the Czechs and Italians will outnumber us in Germany).

But it is what it is. Morocco/Venezuela/Latvia in Nashville/Cleveland/Hartford. Get psyched.

Do friendlies really matter?

2006-03-12T19:36:00.000-04:00

There's a nice article over at FIFAWorldCup.com about how various successful World Cup teams have fared in friendly matches leading up to the tournament. The verdict: most winners and finalists have had good records in warmup matches, though there have been some notable exceptions. It's a great read for the soccer trivia obsessive, and has some interesting historical notes. I didn't know that prior to France 98, the hosts were far from favorites, having had a miserable series of pre-tournament matches. That should be heartening news for Germany following their miserable 4-1 loss to Italy earlier this month.

Formation consternation

2006-03-12T12:44:00.000-04:00

I wasn’t enough of a fan in 1998 to appreciate the now-infamous 3-6-1 debacle authored by also-now-infamous former USMNT coach Steve Sampson. For those who don’t know the story, basically it’s this: in a pre-World Cup friendly versus Austria, Sampson deviated from the tried and true 4-4-2 formation that had served the US well for years, using a 3-6-1 formation to achieve a great result: a 3-0 victory. Buoyed by this success, Sampson relied on the 3-6-1 setup for the Cup itself, with not-so-great results that I need not repeat here.

To be fair, that was not the only reason the US sucked in the 98 World Cup. There was internal team dissension, breakdowns in individual play at key moments (Mike Burns at the near post), and generally getting no breaks (it’s a little-remembered fact that until the Klinsmann goal that gave Germany a 2-0 lead in the first game, we had a few great chances to equalize). Still, Sampson stands as a cautionary example to all USMNT coaches not to change the formation on the eve of the Cup.

That said, I have an idea for how Arena could change the formation on the eve of the Cup that might solve a few of the MNT’s problems. As a background proposition, I think we can all agree that we’re incredibly weak at striker. Right now, there’s Brian McBride, and that’s about it. He’s played great for Fulham so far this year (including goals against Man United and Chelsea), and though his form has cooled off a bit of late, McB still looks like a mortal lock to be in the XI that takes the field in Germany.

Right after him there are Eddie Johnson and Taylor Twellman. EJ appeared to be a mortal lock about a year ago when he couldn’t seem to touch the ball without it ending up in the back of the net. But an intervening injury has raised serious questions about his form, and he’s still got to prove he can score against world class sides instead of Concacaf weaklings. The way he played against Mexico in WCQ and, more recently, Poland doesn’t fill me with confidence. TT has looked great of late, with five goals in his last five games and a goal or an assist in each of them. And while as of now I’d slot him in along McB as our second striker, I’m not sure using a second striker is going to get us very far.

Instead, I want to suggest the following variation: a 4-4-1-1, or one could say, a 4-2-2-1-1. It begins with McBride up top as a pure striker, and LD playing behind him as a withdrawn striker/attacking midfielder. Then there are two wingers out wide: DMB (or Convey?) on the left, and Dempsey on the right. Behind them are two holding/defensive mids: Pablo and Claudio. Finally, a flat back four with Dolo on the right, Eddie Lewis on the left, and Gooch and someone else in the middle.

Why do I like this? Because I’m a sucker for lineups that get our best eleven on the field, and this one does that. My take is that if we don’t have a second striker, then we shouldn’t force an unfit Eddie Johnson or an inadequately skilled Taylor Twellman onto the world stage just because the 4-4-2 is traditionally the US’s best formation. Also, this team is best when attacking and creating off the wings, using speed; Dempsey and DMB/Convey bring that aspect. Of course, against Poland we saw the need for a strong defensive mid to hold the ball and control the pace of the game; considering the quality we’re up against with Italy and the Czechs, we’ll need all the help we can get on that front, so two D-mids should do the trick. Up top, McBride is McBride, and LD seems like an ideal cross between withdrawn forward and A-mid. The former role reflects his ability to score (six goals and six assists for the MNT in 2005, each team leading totals, though I still think he’s only a B+ finisher), and the latter his ability to create and to link the midfield and attack.

Is it implausible to expect Arena to do something this different on the eve of the Cup? Well, for one thing, it’s not that different; it merely requires swapping a forward for a D-mid and then redefining somewhat the A-mid’s role. Also, Bruce has shown some balls when it comes to fielding weird lineups in pressure situations, breaking out a 3-5-2 to confuse the Mexicans in the Round of 16 in 2002. And that of course is the point: whether your use of a novel formation is a brilliant move or a stroke of idiocy basically hinges on what result you get.

Claudio Reyna and I

2006-03-11T15:57:00.000-04:00

I swear it happened like this: back in 2003, I was walking along the sidewalk that runs behind the beach in Santa Monica with one of various ex-girlfriends when I noticed another couple walking toward us. As they got closer, it became clear that the guy looked exactly like Claudio Reyna.

So as we were about to pass them, I said to X, “That guy looks just like Claudio Reyna,” in a voice loud enough that he certainly would have heard me. Possibly-Claudio, hearing this, looked at his female companion and did that Bill the Cat tongue-thing that’s impossible to express in print (“phbbbblt”). The other couple passed us by, and that was it.

The first major question is, was this actually Claudio? I’m 80% certain that it was. First off, I’ve seen enough of the guy that I know what Claudio Reyna looks like. Plus, this was at a time when he was recovering from an injury (admittedly, not an uncommon occurrence), so that would explain why he was in So Cal despite it being the middle of the season for Man City. Finally, who but Claudio Reyna would have reacted upon hearing his name? It’s not as though the average person who looks like Claudio Reyna likely hears that much; CR10 is a great player but not exactly a household name in America (though he may deserve to be).

The next question is, did I miss some great opportunity? I’m not so sure. Although my heart doesn’t bleed for celebrities who complain about how their fame makes it difficult to be anonymous in public, neither do I feel any desire to accost them myself. I certainly don’t want to get an autograph, and I’m a bit old to be star-struck by a soccer player (though it might be different in the case of actresses; if I ran into Angelina Jolie on the street, all bets would be off and I’d likely become a pathetic drooling sycophant on the spot, pledging my eternal devotion and what have you).

Nick Hornby has a similar note about meeting players in Fever Pitch. He observes that there’s not a lot you can say that doesn’t seem awkward, and there’s something in the male ego that doesn’t want to admit too much in the way of admiration lest you come off like a teenybopper fan. The point is that eventually you outgrow any sense of hero-worship for soccer players, and that’s probably for the best.

Now this isn’t to say that I haven’t imagined alternative scenarios where I did stop and greet Claudio in Santa Monica that day and talked shop with him. No “you’re the greatest!” tomfoolery, but two aficionados discussing the game they love. I’d be interested to see what players have to say about the moments and games that stand out in my memory as a fan of the USMNT. That’s not to say that it couldn’t be disappointing to find out that a player has no real interest or sophistication when it comes to appreciating the game itself. I suspect that this is often the case based on the incredibly dull interviews most players give (e.g., “I’m just going to give 110% and try to help the team”).

I don’t really regret not accosting Claudio that day, though. There’s an inevitable gulf between players and fans, and I’m perfectly at ease letting it persist.

DVD Review: Journey to Germany

2006-03-10T23:14:00.000-04:00

Let me get the initial Ebert-style verdict out of the way: this DVD absolutely rocks. (The DVD at issue, by the way, is Journey to Germany, a US Soccer product.) Let me also give a disclaimer: I’m a US Soccer addict who often re-watches TiVo’d friendlies between the Nats and Concacaf weaklings or European U-21 sides.

Still, I think I possess decent judgment in this regard, and I don’t like just any US Soccer-themed DVD. For example, one of the worst purchases I made was Reedswain-produced number “Team USA: Coming of Age,” which consisted largely of basic highlights of the USA’s WC02 games that you could see just as easily on Reedswain’s other (truly excellent) DVD recapping the entire tournament. OK, in the "Team USA" vid you get to see LD’s called-back goal against Poland, or Sanneh hitting the side netting against Germany, or Reyna’s attempted 50-yard chip against same Teutons—but I don’t really need to see any of those.

So why is “Journey to Germany” a DVD that I already see myself re-watching an embarrassing number of times? First, completeness. There’s footage of all the US goals scored in qualifying for the 06 WC, including even the early home-and-away tie against Grenada (much of which I missed because I was watching some Euro04 game involving Portugal at the time). For a compulsive observer like me, this is a gold mine. Three different camera angles of the strange goal in the rain Josh Wolff scored to put us up 5-0 on aggregate on a minefield of a pitch in the Carribbean? Priceless! To be fair, the main feature focuses only on the hex, so you have to go to the extras to see all the goals, but that’s hardly a terrible burden.

Second, sweet sweet memories. I remember being in Foxboro for the game v. El Salvador in the semis, just after we had barely managed to tie Jamaica at the Office (hard to believe we almost started off a virtually flawless campaign with an embarrassing loss) and El Salvador had thumped Panama to go top of the group: the early Ching header, the second-half LD solo goal, and we were rolling. I was in DC for the Panama game too, when Eddie Johnson scored a hat trick as a sub in like ten minutes. I’ve never seen the US beat up on a foe like that, but it made me consider the notion that goals mean so much in soccer because they’re rare. Based on that game, it’s a lie. I savored each one of the six we hung on the Istmeños. Then there was the queen mother of all qualifiers: going to C-bus to see the US play Mexico. It was one of the great fortunate moves of my life as a sports fan to sneak into the supporter’s section at halftime and be behind the goal for the the Ralston and Beasely tallies that sent us to Germany.

And for someone like me whose view of life closely approaches Nick Hornby’s autobiographical protagonist in Fever Pitch, where major personal events are invariably tied up with soccer, these games trigger not only thoughts of the contests themselves, but also of what was happening at the time. The best example is the 2005 Gold Cup. It was a strange time: just back from a great extended trip in Central Europe, about to move to Chicago, in the process of a breakup with a longtime girlfriend. I flew to Boston for that weekend in a strange state, but it was a great day nonetheless. Good friends, the holy triumvirate (grillin’, chillin’, and swillin’), and a decisive US victory in the quarters against Jamaica (3-1, Wolff and a brace from Beasely, with Kasey saving a penalty and LD missing one).

Third, this video should remind even the bitterest hater of what a great year 2005 was to be a US Soccer fan. Of course, 2002 is the gold standard—a continental championship and a quarterfinal appearance in the World Cup is a tough act to follow. But in 2005, the US won the Gold Cup and took an unprecedented step by winning the Concacaf World Cup qualifying group as well. Admittedly, the latter does not result in silverware, but it means bragging rights over Mexico, and it’s an important reflection of how dominant we were in qualifying. We were up 5-0 on Grenada on agg before letting up a tad late in that game. We ended up getting through the semis with a game to spare (while we needed a dodgy win in our last semi game in 2000 against Barbados even to make it to the hex). Then we qualified—against the Mexicans, in fine form, at home—with three games to go. That’s domination, punctuated by our finally getting great results on the road. We got points from all but two of our road games: the loss to Mexico at Azteca, and the 3-0 loss to Costa Rica at Saprissa, after we qualified and were using a second-string team. Our overall record was 13-3-3 in 2005, and it was a true pleasure to watch the US play. A great year by any standard.

Just go buy the video. It’s great and you’ll be supporting US Soccer in the process. Now I’m going to rewatch the whole damn thing.

The Metros sell out

2006-03-09T12:43:00.000-04:00

Nothing’s been cracking in the US camp for the past few days, so let me again briefly turn my attention to a name-related development from MLS. AEG, the group that owns several MLS franchises and manages much of the league, announced the sale of the NY/NJ MetroStars to the Austrian company Red Bull. Yes, the same Red Bull that gives you wings, or at least a tooth-grindingly intense caffeine buzz.

The team will be officially known as Red Bull New York, though they’ll be informally called the New York Red Bulls, in a concession to US sports culture.

It’s hard to know what to think of this. In a sense, I’m glad that there’s any interest in foreign investment in MLS, though if the ownership decides to shortchange the team through lack of interest (or to use the Bulls as a farm team for the Austrian team they also own), that could be a real problem.

Then there’s the concern about the team’s image, and about MLS’s image more generally. It’s aesthetic but far from trivial. With all the soccer haters out there licking their chops to get in their digs at soccer (the media equivalent of bravely picking on someone half your size), they’ll have a field day with anything that makes MLS look foolish.

But how will this move play with the American sports public? It’s hard to say. In other countries, sponsorship is familiar for teams—if you buy a Roma or Inter jersey, you’re shelling out eighty bucks for an enormous ad for Diadora or Pirelli. The sponsor’s name makes a bigger splash than the team logo. On the other hand, with the exception of Red Bull Salzburg, I can’t think of another example of a team that’s named after their owner’s company (I remain unsure about the origins of the name of Artmedia Petrzalka, the team that embarrassed FC Porto in the Champion’s League this year).

In America, there’s no shortage of sponsor-whoring. Stadiums are the obvious example; few of them remain un-sold-out to some wealthy corporation. Even abstractions have sponsors (the Nokia halftime show at the Superbowl). And the more successful MLS teams have had uniform sponsors as well (DC hawking Bud, LA shilling for Sierra Mist). But this really does seem to take sponsorship to another level, and in a way that requires a weird elision of fan support and product support (can you like the team Red Bulls even if you hate the beverage Red Bull?).

But maybe this is just a matter of getting used to something novel. In Chicago, the Sox used to play at Comiskey Park. It was a classic stadium with a classic name that honored one of the early greats of the game. Then Comiskey was demolished to make way for US Cellular Field, a bland modern stadium honoring a telecommunications concern. Yet this name has become widely accepted, and now Sox fans affectionately refer to attending games at “the Cell” without any consciousness that they’re selling out in the process.

The verdict on Red Bull New York? I’m going to wait and see. As a DC United supporter, though, I feel obligated never to drink that beverage again.

Fear the Lats

2006-03-07T18:07:00.000-04:00

The last three friendlies before the World Cup are traditionally grouped together over the course of a week in a widely publicized, well-attended (by any standards, not just US Soccer standards) series of games billed as the Road to the World Cup. Last time out, we beat Uruguay 2-1, smoked Jamaica 5-0, and lost to Holland 2-0 in a performance that was much more impressive than the scoreline suggests.

The eagle-eyed readers at BigSoccer just identified a news snippet on FIFA.com revealing our opponents in one of these games, the last of the three and typically the major send-off against a challenging foe that will allow us to test our mettle against some sturdy competition. Ladies and gentlemen, it's...

Latvia. Or, depending on how ethnically correct you want your spelling to be, Latvija. Either way, it's a disappointment. Latvia's no Holland, to say the least, though they aren't quite the footballing chumps one may think. The Lats qualified for Euro04 (through the playoffs, beating Turkey on aggregate over the two legs), and managed respectable results against the Czech Republic (who squeaked out a 2-1 win after being down 1-0 at halftime) and Germany (a gritty 0-0 draw).

They haven't done much since then, failing to do much in their WC06 qualifying group and never even challenging for a playoff spot. There could be some sense that we want to line up opponents who will be like our WC foes, so one might think that the Latvians will play like the Czech Republic, but I'm skeptical. Apart from the fact that both teams are located in Eastern Europe writ large, I don't think there's any reason to expect that they're similar. It could also be that we simply got lucky last time with two of three solid foes (in 1998's WC run-up, we tied Scotland and Macedonia 0-0, and beat Kuwait 2-0). In any case, Latvia in Connecticut is on. Get psyched.

Jamaican me crazy

2006-03-06T21:44:00.000-04:00

Tickets for the US friendly versus Jamaica on April 11 in Cary, NC sold out in under 90 minutes this past weekend. Any indications that the South is in the grips of World Cup fever have to be taken with a grain of salt; there were only 8,000 tix on sale to begin with. Still, the notion that any US game would sell out that quickly is kind of surprising.

Perhaps there's an unusually large Jamaican expat community in the Raleigh-Durham area that I didn't know about. Perhaps Ticketmaster got crossed up and routed people seeking Duke basketball tickets to SAS stadium instead. Or perhaps Occam's Razor applies here and people everywhere--even in the deepest darkest American South--are psyched about US Soccer and the upcoming mundial.

For what it's worth, though, there's a bit of bad history in Cary. Last time the US played there in a pre-WC02 scrimmage, they went up against the Richmond Kickers, and needed a late Earnie Stewart goal to escape with a 2-2 tie. As everyone knows, that game was a dead-on indicator that the US was doomed in the World Cup.

MLS makes the right call: 1836 becomes Dynamo

2006-03-06T19:07:00.000-04:00

To take a turn away from the US and the World Cup and toward MLS, it’s worth noting that today the newly established Houston franchise announced their team name: Houston Dynamo. Seems like a perfectly good name to me; better certainly than Kansas City’s Wizards or Los Angeles' Galaxy.

The trick is that it’s the second time the Houston team named their side. The first name was “Houston 1836”, in homage to the year the city was founded (at the expense of its previous Mexican occupants, who were ousted by Sam Houston and company). It seems that it never occurred to the genius MLS execs responsible for the name that it would conjure up problematic associations for the city’s Hispanic population; not an insignificant fact when you consider that this is a demographic the franchise will need to court to survive.

Today’s change wasn’t welcomed by all. The predictable nub of eternally aggrieved white guys lamented the loss of a team name that appealed to them and them alone. I’m not sure what you call it when the tender feelings of cultural conservatives are hurt, but it seems analytically indistinguishable from the kind of responses from the left that aforementioned conservatives tirelessly decry as limp-wristed PC whining.

I get the general point that people can be too sensitive about these sorts of issues, and I even share to some extent in the compassion fatigue for identity politics that’s been sweeping America for some time. That said, the name-change issue doesn’t seem like a close call at all. "1836" was a stupid name from an economic, public relations, and soccer point of view.

First off, when you select a team name, it's elementary that you should choose something that appeals to all of the demographics you want to bring in. You'd have to be dumber than a dead armadillo lying by the side of a Texas highway not to realize that choosing a politically charged year as part of a team's name is going to alienate a large sector of that demographic. Choose such a name and you lose money; simple.

Second, team names often have political implications in soccer. Do you think a lot of Glasgow protestants root for Celtic, or that you find a lot of Catalan separatists going to see Espanyol? Not likely. MLS names have been weird and bland, but at least they haven't been designed to trigger sectarian feelings. The change to Dynamo intelligently continues the latter part of this trend.

Finally, even if you don't buy any of the political problems the name raised, "1836" simply missed the mark as a team name. I get the significance for Houston's history, but no other football team with a year in its name does this. The year refers to the founding of the athletic club, not of the town. 1836 made about as much sense as calling the Salt Lake team "ReAL." If you're going to ape European team names, you should at least do it in a way that makes sense.

By contrast, Dynamo seems like a great name. It's got positive connotations, doesn't give off the weird vibe of some MLS names, and is something everyone can appreciate. Kudos to MLS for making the right move.

Left back and forth

2006-03-06T13:16:00.000-04:00

Every team has their problem areas. For the US, areas of concern are second striker (assuming we play a two-striker formation), right midfield, and—probably the longest-standing area of concern—left fullback.

We’ve got a surfeit of candidates at center back: veterans like Pope and Berhalter, newcomers like Onyewu and Conrad, seasoned regulars like Bocanegra, and wild cards like Gibbs (who may or may not be back from injury). At right back, Cherundolo is back from a nasty injury but looks on-form and is a lock for that spot. But left back continues to be a problem for us.

And this matters because the kind of teams we’ll be playing at the World Cup will key on any weakness and exploit it for all ninety minutes. To see what kind of impact even a single weak link in the backline can be, cast your mind back to 2002 when almost every goal we surrendered (and some we didn’t thanks to great goalkeeping from Friedel) was due to Jeff Agoos being sadly but plainly overmatched. So what to do? The options:

Eddie Lewis. Eddie usually plays left-sided midfield for Premiership promotion hopefuls Leeds United. His virtues are quickness and excellent crossing, as well as a decent free kick and one of the better shots from distance on the squad (though the latter is really not saying much). Against Poland, Bruce Arena slotted him into the LB slot and he performed quite well, earning MOTM honors (from ESPN) for an error-free performance that included a wicked cross that led to the game’s only goal. The concerns are his size and lack of experience, but I’m not too bothered about either of these. A wingback need not be large to be effective; Dolo is short at RB and does a great job (if anything, size might compromise needed mobility). As for experience, it’s somewhat of a concern, but Lewis looked comfortable in the LB spot as a first-time gig against Poland, and he has plenty of WC experience, so I’d be happy to see him start for us there in the World Cup.

Jonathan Spector. Between Wednesday and Saturday of last week, I had pretty much accepted the idea that a converted Eddie Lewis would be our LB in the World Cup. And while I still fully expect that to be the case, I began to question this a bit over the weekend when Jonathan played a stellar game at left back for Charlton Athletic, helping to hold Liverpool to a 0-0 draw at Anfield. He got an 8 rating from Skysports and was named to the Premiership Best XI for the week. Most impressive was his performance against Djibril Cisse, the crafty French forward who Spector pretty much marked out of the game, even though you could tell Liverpool had begun attacking down the right flank to try to exploit that side as a weakness. Spector remains young and has only a touch of USMNT experience, so his mere inclusion in the WC roster would be a surprise, but Arena has shown a willingness to take a chance on promising youngsters (e.g., Beasley starting in the 2002 WC), and strongly favors on-form players starting for their top-flight teams (and it looks like Spector has merited at least one more start for Charlton), so I think there’s an outside chance of Spector being in the mix this summer, at least if he continues to perform like he did over the weekend.

Frankie Hejduk. Frankie played RB for us during the last World Cup when David Regis simply didn’t have anyone’s confidence, and he did a damned good job (though I believe LB is his most natural position). You know what you get with Frankie: speed and tireless effort. He’s not the most skilled player on the ball, and doesn’t bring any real offensive weaponry, but with wheels and World Cup experience, he’s a solid third-best option.

Carlos Bocanegra. About three years ago, Carlos seemed to be our best young defender. He won MLS defender of the year honors, then Premiership side Fulham acquired him and immediately slotted him into the starting XI. Trick: the Cottagers put him in as a left back, not as a center back (his natural position), with the result that Carlos was getting run down badly by the speedy forwards and wingers who populate the English game. He’s back at CB for Fulham now, starting and (despite some controversy) doing fairly well. I see him as a backup option, though; certainly not an ideal LB (lacks the speed and ball skills, plus too tall), but he’ll be the option if the others don’t pan out. It wouldn’t be an unmitigated disaster to have Carlos play out of position for us in the World Cup, but it does sort of make me cringe to consider the prospect.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is it. I really can’t think of another player who could plausibly play LB for us at the international level. And while the tone of this post is optimistic, given both Lewis’ and Spector’s outstanding performances in that position this past week, we’re really only an injury or two away from having this be a truly problematic position.

The strength and weakness of World Cup groups: some numbers

2006-03-04T14:52:00.000-04:00

Which is the real group of death? This question draws lots of attention because it points out one of the major issues of the World Cup draw: that its focus on geography can result in massive differences in the quality of competition from group to group. This is part of the game; ex ante, no team has a much greater or worse chance to be in a GoD. However, once the groups are drawn the debate tends to focus on which teams are better than others in the putative GoDs, and this doesn’t really get very far. We could debate all day about whether the US is better in its group than Serbia is in its, or Cote d’Ivoire versus Ghana, ad nauseam.

So I’ve tried to use the ELO ratings to provide a more determinate look at the relative difficulty of the eight groups, with some interesting results. I’ve averaged the ELO ratings of each team in each group to give some sense of their average degree of difficulty. This isn’t a foolproof method, of course. The ELO ratings aren’t guarantors of current quality and certainly don’t predict how good teams will be on the eve of the WC. Also, averages like this can be deceiving. A group with three excellent teams and one poor one might be much more unfair than a group with two superior and two inferior teams, even though the average ELO ratings of both those groups might appear equal. Anyway, with those caveats in mind, here’s what I’ve found:

Group A………..26.25
Group B………..25.75
Group C………..16.5
Group D………..28
Group E………..21.5
Group F………..15.75
Group G………..37
Group H………..33.25

The average difficulty for a group was 25.5. So we have a couple groups (A and B) right at the mean; one group a bit tougher than the mean (E); one group a bit easier than the mean (D); two much more difficult (C and F) and two much easier (G and H).

So compare this to the conventional wisdom. I looked at the groups and initially thought there were some major disparities. Just looking at the teams, I perceived groups C and E to be clearly the hardest; and groups G and H to be clearly the weakest. According to ELO, E may not be as hard as all of us US fans seem to believe. The numbers could be deceptive, though; Ghana’s got a very bad ELO rating (67), which skews the average upward of what I think it should be.

Also, I didn’t rate F as a very difficult group. I think any one of Croatia, Japan, and Australia should be thrilled to make the second round, and one of them is guaranteed that. Not so, according to the ELO averages, which has F as the real Group of Death, even harder than C (which includes Argentina, Holland, Serbia, and Cote d’Ivoire). The conventional wisdom that G and H are weaklings seems right, though. Lucky bastards.

My Favorite Year: USA 2002

2006-03-04T13:58:00.000-04:00

One of my favorite pieces of soccer writing is Roddy Doyle’s account of following Ireland in the 1990 World Cup. I first encountered it in My Favourite Year, one of many fantastic collections of soccer writing done by the British outfit When Saturday Comes. It reminds me a little of what it was like to have the World Cup in the US in 1994. Even in our soccer-unsavvy nation, people were thinking and talking about the tournament. I even got the afternoon off work to watch the second half of the Nats’ famous 2-1 win over Colombia. But even that pales in comparison to the footy-mad Dublin that Doyle describes. The packed pubs roaring Ireland on, the flag-festooned streets, the euphoric madness in the city when the team beat Romania on penalties to reach the last eight…

It sounds wonderful, and it makes me insanely jealous. Compare, for example, my experience of the 2002 World Cup in Washington. DC is, by American standards, a good soccer town. DC United has arguably the best support in MLS, and the US used to have lots of games at RFK Stadium because they could rely on strong turnouts.

Still, when our opening game against Portugal rolled around in June 2002, there was little in the way of buzz. Sure, Sports Illustrated had Clint Mathis on the cover, and people seemed vaguely aware that the World Cup was happening (in the same way they’re aware that the Olympics are happening), but there was no buzz in the streets, no growing sense of national anticipation, certainly nothing to match the way I felt at 4am that morning when we kicked off against the team of Figo and Rui Costa that was surely going to run circles around us.

I watched the game in my apartment in the dead quiet of pre-dawn in Woodley Park—partly because it was so damned early that I didn’t think any place would be open—and so the setting was strangely dead for the sporting miracle that unfolded. When John O’Brien scored in only the fourth minute, I fell off my couch and onto the floor in excitement, though I had to be careful not to disturb my cranky downstairs neighbor (he had already complained to the management about the volume of my celebrations when the US beat Canada on penalties to advance to the finals of the CONCACAF championship earlier that year).

When Donovan and McBride added two more, I couldn’t stand being quiet. I looked online and found that the Diner in Adams-Morgan was televising games for free. I set out on a dead run and arrived to see the start of the second half (and having missed Beto’s goal that reduced our lead to 3-1). Finally, there was an atmosphere. People packed the Diner and spilled out into the street. The support was intense but subdued, save for the stomach-churning moment when Agoos blasted a spectacular goal into the upper 90—of our own net. When the game ended, predictable chants of USA! ensued for about fifteen seconds, then people cleared out. I ate breakfast at the counter, and by the time I left, it was as though the game never happened. No one celebrated in the streets; hell, no one even seemed to know that this massive event had even taken place. I was at work by 9am and an uneventful, if sleep-deprived, day ensued.

I ended up watching the regrettable Poland match and the miraculous Mexico match with a group of friends, and then the quarterfinal versus Germany on the Jumbotron at RFK Stadium with several thousand other fans. When it ended, we applauded the great US effort, and then went home, silent.

It’s not as though I think the US should be in the grips of soccer madness like other countries are. Nations, much the same as people, are free to love what they love. And American doesn’t love soccer; they like it, in much the same way that you like a vague acquaintance that you’re happy to run into every now and again but don’t think about when he’s not around. What I miss about watching soccer in the US, and what makes me jealous of Roddy Doyle’s Dublin, is the sense of being part of something. It’s strange that something that seemed as earth-shattering a national event as the Portugal match had so little impact on the nation it involved. Or perhaps it’s less of a geopolitical issue but just a matter of feeling unfulfilled; the Portugal match made me want to go out and party, but instead I had to go into work.

Hence the trip to Germany this summer. Win or lose, I’m going to be in a place where the atmosphere outside matches what’s going on inside.

Eurodissed and loving it

2006-03-02T20:28:00.000-04:00

Anyone who follows US soccer closely enough knows the following pattern: the US manages a decent result against a European foe; the press throughout Europe (and in England) responds with measured rather than effusive praise; and the nerdtastic soccerphiles stateside go into a tizzy, bemoaning the lack of respect US soccer receives.

Now some of this is understandable, if unwarranted. Reputations take a long time to change, and for many decades, the US was rightly considered a soccer backwater. Nor are we as good at soccer as we are in many other sports (even the Winter Olympics; can you imagine the shock if the US finished second in the World Cup as they did in the recent medal count?). On the other hand, when some sass-mouth reporter suggests that the Yanks' win over Poland was lucky, Bruce Arena has every right to call out this opinion as dead-ass wrong.

But American fans might not be so quick to read the Euroresponse to the rise of the USMNT as merely condescending. It's partly that, sure (though I think the condescenscion is less a sincere belief in the inferiority of US soccer than a desperate attempt to hold onto that belief in the face of mounting evidence to the contrary). But it also reminds me of a story I heard from a Germany-based friend, who responded to the US success in WC2002 with a sense that the inevitable had come to pass, and now the US had started to become good in the last area that they'd long ignored. "You've got everything else," this response seems to say, "And now you have to have soccer too?"

Thus it's not just a rude dismissal, this tendency of foreign press to underrate the US soccer team. It's also a desire to deny that the US has arrived in one area that they could long have for themselves alone (like the Simpsons episode where Homer becomes good at art, one area in which Marge has always felt superior).

So I say let them have their illusions. In fact, I hope the foreign press does continue to think poorly of the USMNT. As we saw last time around, when top-rated European teams underrate us, it tends to work to our advantage (US 3:2 Portugal). So if any coaches of our World Cup opponents are reading this, then yes, your national sports press has it exactly right! The Yanks don't even know how to kick a ball, let alone play soccer. It would be best to focus your efforts on the other teams in the group and forget all about the pathetic footballing backwater that is the US. Trust me.

Cancel the World Cup

2006-03-02T11:28:00.000-04:00

...because Germany is guaranteed to win, suggests a recent statistical study. It works like this: on average, Germany reaches at least the quarters and usually the semis of any World Cup. Add in the fact that hosts generally overperform by an average of 2.5 rounds, and you've got Germany winning the final and then one additional bonus game afterward.

Asked for comment, Italy affirmed the validity of the study. "You can't-a argue with-a the science," said the boot-shaped nation in adorable broken English, and brandished their 1990 World Cup champions' trophy to illustrate the point.