Today's stunning American victory over the number one ranked team in the world deserves more than a piddly recantation of my earlier call for Bob Bradley to resign.

It deserves an opus, a glowing ode, a flowing, flowery, over-the-top missive extolling the virtues of every player that contributed, the direction of Bob Bradley, and the collective will of a team that refused to be cowed by conventional wisdom.

But that's not what I'm going to write today.

Instead, I'm going to attempt to frame today's victory in terms that might sometimes tilt towards hyperbole, but which will always be based on a desire to be level-headed. The win is being trumpeted as a seminal moment in the history of American soccer, and it certainly is; but what it means on the larger scale, the one that includes soccer as a relevant sport in the United States, is tough to determine. Americans always seem to struggle with fully embracing the beautiful game en masse, and there's no reason think that this victory, no matter how impressive, will change that in any noticeable way.

But onto to happier thoughts. Who cares about those people that don't get it anyway? What they missed today is not only what makes soccer such a great game, but what makes following your national team passionately such a worthwhile endeavor. We're all exultant today, one community of Americans who understand just what it means for a bunch of American players to beat a full-strength top-ranked team in the world. It's not just about rooting for the underdog, though that's certainly a component; it's also about supporting a team that represents what America is about. Varied and diverse in both background and origin, the United States National Soccer Team is a collection of men more like the makeup of our country than any other that wears the colors of our flag.

Bob Bradley, the man whose leadership abilities I questioned just a few days ago, masterfully positioned and inspired his team today. Questions about Bradley's ability to lead the US to success in the World Cup next year shouldn't stop based on only two games, and I think it healthy that they continue; but after today, there is little reason to believe that Bradley can't get the job done. Why his side played so poorly for two matches, then so well for two, is a mystery that may be beyond our abilities to solve. Give Bradley credit, however, for turning things around when they looked the most bleak. While so many of us were calling for his head, asking him to resign, or decrying his decisions, Bradley stuck to his guns and led his team to one of the more important wins in this nation's international soccer history.

Sunday's final against Brazil (probably, though today illustrates that nothing is a foregone conclusion) is almost an afterthought now, a game that if won, will bring the US its first ever senior international trophy of any real significance, but if lost (barring a completely and utterly embarrassing performance) won't really do any damage to the massive high that the program and the fans are on today. The team will end the Confederations Cup riding an incredible wave of confidence, something that can only serve them well when the "A" reassembles for the World Cup qualifying match against Mexico at Azteca in August. If that confidence can be leveraged into a first ever victory in smoggy Mexico City, then we might be able to say that the team has turned a corner, is headed in the right direction, and could realistically be called "dangerous" ahead of next year's World Cup.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Today's win redefines the word "big" for the USMNT, and perhaps we should leave it at that. Whether it helps the sport penetrate the stubborn American sports culture, or whether it means that the team is now reaching the potential we all believed they had, still remains to be seen. For now, and for at least the next few days, story after story and blog post after blog post will be written on the victory, with some perhaps even showing up in the "mainstream" non-soccer media. For me, that's enough. For now.

I'm exhausted. Wake me up for the final.