As the day (June 12th, duh) draws near, you're likely to see digital mountains of analysis of Bradley's tactics, projected starting lineups, breakdowns position-by-position and matchup-by-matchup (mostly for England, because they come first), and various sundry examinations of all things USMNT. I have a newsreader I use to sort through all of it. Let's just say that it's rather difficult to do so at the moment. The Turkey match spawned an Everest.
Some took Saturday's events as an opportunity to call out Bradley, and American coaches reaching back across a decade plus for that matter, for failing to recognize calm, cool, and collected in midfield. A wave of Torres support is sweeping through the American soccer community, bringing with it a new storyline to the World Cup buildup.
If you felt like it, you could spend your entire work day reading nothing but overwrought assessments of friendlies that ultimately don't matter. Yes, the performances of certain individual players and the team as a collective unit is indicative of something, but by no means does a poor first half against Turkey definitely prove that the U.S. will have their doors blown off by England. On the flip side, a strong second half doesn't necessarily prove the opposite either; thought we're ten days from kickoff, most sides in the tournament have serious questions to answer and kinks to work out.
And the drama will only grow thicker with each passing day. Like a dense fog rolling across the soccer landscape, it's already affecting perspective everywhere while it precipitates nonsense on an unbelievable scale. Even as I write this, England is dragging out a torturous final roster announcement process; I'm probably counting wrong, but it seems to me every member of the squad has been rumored to be both in and out and sometimes simultaneously.
El Tri is thrashing in agony as the dos Santos family takes turns firing shotgun blasts into its green-clad body. Giovani makes it, his brother Jonathan does not. Zizinho, the players' father, rips the Mexican FA and Javier Aquirre, while declaring that Jonathan will never play for Mexico. Giovani, reportedly distraught over his brother's exclusion, is threatening to pull out of the team.
Whoa.
This makes me wonder what the world (meaning my world, meaning America, and meaning everything surrounding the USMNT) might be like should us Yanks ever take to the game in a widespread and uber-passionate way. Would we fall victim to the media-inspired teeth-gnashing of England? Could we ever find ourselves dealing with the telenovela-like internal conflict of Mexico? We've got cultural attachments, and strong ones, to both nations. It's reasonable to think we might be influenced by their way of doing things, even if they're not actually making a conscious choice.
In the grand scheme of things, coverage and support of the U.S. National Team on a meaningful scale is in its honeymoon phase. Most of the coverage is positive. Human interest angles, feel good pieces, and "the sport is growing" stories dominate the landscape. The hopes of a nation don't rest on the shoulders of Donovan, Dempsey, et al even if they might feel a bit more pressure to perform than they used to. I can't help but wonder how we'll handle it (must throw in the obligatory "if") when we reach a point of serious national interest, or when the attitude towards an American World Cup campaign isn't one of scoff if they're bad or mild surprise and momentary interest if they're good.
The American soccer culture is a melting pot of cultures and influences, yet to be cooked down into something clearly identifiable. England and Mexico are part of the recipe, that much is certain. Let's hope the finished brew tastes like neither, but is something uniquely American, both on the field and in everything that surrounds the game.
