U.S. looks like 1990 all over again
GELSENKIRCHEN, Germany – You wait four years for this very public moment on an athletic field of global proportions, to prove there is some real substance to the results at the last World Cup. Then five minutes into the match it is over, kaput. The Czechs score, score again, score yet again.
The U.S. national team isn’t just beaten, it is drubbed, dissected, like a teenage travel team playing three flights above its head. The Americans are naked out there, turned around and around. There are no through balls on offense, there is no penetration. There are missed assignments on defense.
The ailing Czechs own the flanks, have 10 of the best 12 chances to score in this match. They start throwing in scrubs at the end so that even more of their stars won’t get injured or receive unnecessary yellow cards.
It is humbling, overwhelming. And then, after a 3-0 loss, it gets worse somehow. The coach starts attacking his top players, who are forced to defend themselves when they just want to get to the bus and forget what happened. Bruce Arena suddenly becomes way too honest with the media when diplomacy is the order of the day. He goes after individuals, not just the whole team, when they are at their lowest.
“Landon (Donovan) showed no aggressiveness tonight,” Arena says. “We got nothing out of (DaMarcus) Beasley on the night. Kasey (Keller), for whatever reason, puts (the ball) up field when we have nobody.”
And there you have it: A recipe for the worst defeat in 16 years, maybe longer. Add a tablespoon of dissension.
“It wasn’t like I rolled the ball in front of the goal and let them volley it in,” Keller says of the first goal.
In 1990, at least, the Czechs required 25 minutes to score their first goal in a 5-1 rout against a completely inexperienced American team.
“This wasn’t 1990,” Arena insists. “I don’t think we looked like the team in 1990.”
He should look at the tapes again. There is nothing but raw nerves and a disorganized game plan, from a team featuring eight players and a coach with World Cup experience. They look very much like those rookies at Italia ‘90, only without the alibi.
Donovan, Beasley and Keller take the fall, and don’t really like it. Arena, now 2-3-1 in World Cup play, points fingers at everybody but himself.
“It’s embarrassing. It never should have happened,” Donovan says, composing himself after being told the coach has just finished ripping him. “We were a little bit lifeless, a little bit unlucky. For MLS players, this has been the date that’s circled. It’s disappointing. But it’s not over. I don’t want this memory to carry over. To be fair, we got beat by a pretty good team.”
That’s what Claudio Reyna says, too, that the Czechs are the best team in the group. And they surely played that way Monday. Pavel Nedved is always in the right place, chasing down loose balls, creating chances. Tomas Rosicky scores twice, once with a swerving right-foot bullet from 30 yards out that qualifies as the goal of the tournament.
It is always easy to explain how the Americans lose a soccer game like this. You just have to say they don’t have the same talent level, and it is true. It is always harder to figure how the U.S. wins, how it did what it did in 2002, with a nuanced combination of teamwork, fitness and good fortune.
None of those intangibles is there right now. The Americans are only as good as their talent right now, which is not nearly good enough.
They require a few breaks, and a napping opponent that underestimates their resolve. The second part of the equation is much harder to find after the successes of 2002.
So no, you should not kid yourself. The U.S. has two matches left, but it will be too little, too late. Suddenly, it is 1990 in 2006. Can 1998 be far away?