Royal Bafokeng Stadium, Rustenburg. Spain defeated New Zealand 5-0 during the FIFA Conferderations Cups at Royal Bafokeng Stadium, in Rustenburg South Africa on June 14, 2009. Photo via Newscom

I desperately want the United States to beat England tomorrow. Nothing-else-matters type desperation. Sell-my-sporting-soul type desperation. As far as I can tell, I've never wanted anything to happen more in my relatively short life. I may be blacking out on thirty years of living or so, but such is the level of desire today.


What I don't want, is a controversial win. I don't want a dodgy penalty. I don't want a questionable red card. I don't want the U.S. to emerge with three points that most of the football world believes they didn't deserve. If the Americans win, I want them to do so legitimately, without question, and because they were the better team on the day. I want them to beat England not have the referee beat England.


I know not everyone will agree with me. Some of you would be just fine with something untoward going down in Rustenburg. You may even be rooting for it, the way you rooted for England to suffer a debilitating injury to one of their crucial figures. Alas, Wayne Rooney remains healthy, if a touch hot-headed.


In a cosmic sense, I can't be totally sure sending those kind of thoughts out into the ether won't boomerang back around and bite the Americans on the figurative ass. This worries me, something I fully admit is illogical. The universe doesn't care what I'm thinking in relation to a soccer game half a world away. Still, part of me can't let go of the sense that if I secretly hope Rooney, Gerrard, Lampard, whomever, is sent off unfairly, that it might actually be one of our boys it happens to.


There's also the small matter of respect. The Americans gained some measure of it last year in their shocking win over Spain because they did it on the backs of their own efforts. They'll gain even more if they beat England the same way, without scandal, without controversy; this is what I ultimately hope for, even as I admit to myself I won't be too broken up over a slightly undeserved victory. Three points is three points, and this is the World Cup after all. If 2006 taught us anything, it's that this tournament is a harsh mistress, and any gifts she provides should not be lightly received. Certainly, winning is all that matters.


Only it's not, at least not for me. My sense of satisfaction won't be sated with an ill-gotten victory. Make no mistake, though; this is a personal feeling, one I don't expect will be popular or even resonant on a meaningful level with most fans. If you don't care how it happens, I say good for you. I wish I could find it in myself to feel the same way.


I fully admit that if the Americans pull out the win tomorrow because of a questionable call, I'm likely to move on fairly quickly. In fact, it's very possible I'm overestimating my sense of right and wrong here; this is the World Cup, and while I know my incredulity over a bad call against U.S. would be off the charts, winning is an effective tonic for any shame that might come from doing so "wrongly".


I do want a win. Desperately. I did say "sell my sporting soul" desperation, right? That should mean I shouldn't care how it happens. Maybe when it comes down to it, I won't. But right now, just over twenty-four hours away from kickoff, I can afford to be noble.
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