Disappointment, Desperation, and Despondency (All Solely Related to Soccer)

Jose, from Washington State, introduced himself to me and E as he took his seat in the row in front of us in the American Outlaws section of MAPFRE Stadium. Cowboy hat, cowboy boots, and a welcoming grin from ear-to-ear. He took off his coat, revealing his AO jersey. He sang and chanted at the top of his lungs the entire game.

We all rode the wave of emotion that is unique to being present while your team, your country is on the field, seemingly within arms' reach. Disappointment at the first Mexican goal. Desperation when Tim Howard was subbed out, unable to continue (please tell me why they watered the field right before the start). Relief when not one, but two, Mexican shots banged off of the crossbar and the post. Frustration at chances missed in the first half, largely against the run of play; and in the second, when we should have put the game out of reach. Jubilation when Bobby Wood scored the tying goal.

Howard lies injured.
(photo from sbnation.com via pinterest)

And, then, disbelief when Rafa Marquez, he who could teach Putin a thing or two about true anti-American villainy, scored the winning goal at the death. Right in front of us.

No emotions invested or wasted due to anything off of the pitch. No "Build the Wall" chants. No anti-Trump protests. Just devotion directed by us to our team, and them to theirs. And, of course, some derision sent in the direction of the opposing players. But not their fans, and not their countries.

At game's end, Jose was disconsolate, repeatedly banging his AO Washington-Tri-Cities scarf on the seat in front of him. He'd come all this way to witness that? E and I silently filed out, leaving Jose and his two friends to their despondency.

As we left, I caught the eye of a woman in the row behind us, wrapped in the flag of Mexico. I gave her a wink, hoping that she took it as a "congrats," not flirtation.

Yes, the U.S. Men's Team lost. But America won.

This is still is our America.

One Nation. One Team.

When the Yanks ...

It's been 15 years since I've seen the U.S. Men's National Soccer team play a World Cup qualifier, in Columbus, against Mexico.

This was that game:

What I remember the most, other than the fact that we won 2-0 (and that it may have been the coldest I have ever been in my entire life), from "La Guerra Fria" was Tony Sanneh coming out for final pre-game warm-ups in shirt sleeves, while the Mexican team huddled in its dressing room until, literally, seconds remained before the whistle blew to start the match.

A lot has changed since then.  Three more dos a cero wins in World Cup qualifiers in Columbus. And an election, just this week, that has given me pause to reflect on what being a supporter of the United States -- in the broadest sense, and in the context of its soccer teams -- means.

This is what I've decided:

I am still an American, as are the millions who voted, as was their right, for the candidate I did not support. As are the millions who did not vote (although maybe a little less love for them as far as I'm concerned). 

I still am proud to be an American.

I will still loudly and full-heartedly cheer and sing and probably yell at the officials in support of my team and my country.

Most importantly, I will cheer for a team that is comprised of African Americans, German African Americans, Hispanic Americans, Jewish Americans, Icelandic Americans, Asian Americans, Croatian Americans, and, yes, some Anglo Americans too.

I will respect our brothers from Mexico for their right to cheer on their team, although I will desperately hope that their team fails.

This is what my America looks like:

photo from mlssoccer.com

I'm still all in.

Where Were You When Brooks Scored?

When your job is not that of full-time blogger, work sometimes gets in the way of posting. So it was with me on Monday, as I watched the U.S. v. Ghana match not at an American Outlaws watch party, or in the comfort of my own home, but on a boat in the middle of the Hudson River.

Fortunately a combination of my on-and-off whining for several weeks and the ingenuity of the good folks at USLAW meant that we had our own watch party on board, even though it was via the internet and on Univision (there was no sound anyway, so the fact that few of us could have understood any part of the broadcast other than "Gooooooooaaaaallllllllllll" really didn't matter).

As we motored under the Brooklyn Bridge and the Manhattan Bridge (under which there was also a watch party significantly better attended than ours), some ate, some took in the sights, and others watched the game and cheered and groaned and critiqued (it was a bunch of lawyers after all) and was on the edge of its collective seat for 90 minutes plus stoppage time -- interminable, excruciating stoppage time.

And while, admittedly, the reaction of those lawyers wasn't as exuberant as that of many of those shown in the video below, I wouldn't trade the experience for any others - except maybe for those who were in attendance in Natal. 

Just as with Landon Donovan's goal against Algeria in 2010, I suspect I'll always remember where I was when I jumped and shouted and acted like a fool when John Brooks' header went in and the U.S. vanquished the demon of Ghana in the World Cup. After the game, we glided past the Statue of Liberty and I took a picture and Tweeted this:

Good on you John Brooks, the unlikeliest of goal scoring heroes, and you Jurgen Klinsmann for, once again, making magical substitutions at crucial times (thinking more of the addition of Graham Zusi - who delivered the cross that Brooks headed - than Brooks here).

Aaron Johannsson kept yelling in his Brooks' ear after the goal, "just believe it." John's not alone Aaron. It took us all a while to believe.

Two Not So Fitting Farewells - Part Two

Meanwhile, over on the XY side of things, last week Jurgen Klinsmann announced his preliminary squad of 30 players that will go to camp in California to train for the World Cup this summer in Brazil.

There were no real surprises on the list, including the omission of Eddie Johnson from the team. And while not surprising, and seemingly handled well by Klinsmann, Johnson's omission is unfortunate given his service to his country's team.

While Klinsmann kept his word and chose players for the squad who were, for the most part, performing well for their clubs (Landon Donovan being one notable exception), it's not easy to forget Johnson's play during the CONCACAF qualifying rounds that was one of the biggest reasons that the U.S. is going to Brazil in the first place.

The men struggled early in the third round of qualifying and, with a record of 2-1-1, were playing away to "minnows" Antigua and Barbuda. In danger of coming away with no better than a draw, Johnson  scored both goals in a 2-1 win, including the game winner in the 90th minute.

Then Johnson made appearances in eight of the Hex (fourth round) qualifying matches, scoring two goals including the game winner in the latest Dos a Cero victory over Mexico in Columbus.

But that was while Johnson was flying high and scoring goals for the Seattle Sounders last MLS season. After finding success in MLS with Dallas and Kansas City, his career had taken a wrong turn in stints in the English Premier League and the English Championship, only to be revived in 2012 and 2013 with Seattle.

After last season, Johnson, feeling he was underpaid, essentially forced a trade from Seattle to D.C. United (Seattle was unable to meet Johnson's wage demands because of the MLS salary cap). While the salary increase was merited, Johnson didn't do his potential spot on the national team any favors by moving to the team with the worst scoring record in MLS history in 2013, or by explaining his scoring futility since joining D.C. by saying that in Seattle he was fed by "better guys that had more quality on the ball."

Johnson's complaint and the resulting fallout were consistent with the general perception of Johnson, which that he is moody and not a team player. In explaining why he had felt compelled to explain to his teammates why he threw them under the bus, Johnson said: "I don't want them to think I am better than them. That's always been the perception of my career: I'm a prima donna, I'm a bad teammate, I'm bad in the locker room. That's not the case." 

Klinsmann specifically said that the incident "had nothing to do with the decision" to not name Johnson to the 30-man squad, instead implying that Johnson had simply fallen behind other players vying for forward spots on the team. And it is arguable that Johnson's exclusion is less painful now than it will be for the seven players who will train in Palo Alto and participate in the friendly matches between now and June 2 only to not make the 23-man team that will travel to Brazil.

Klinsmann has more difficult decisions ahead in determining the
final roster of 23 that will play in Brazil. (photo from ussoccer.com)

It is, however, a bitter pill for Johnson to swallow, particularly given his role in getting the team to Brazil in the first place. And another example of how U.S. soccer has become both more internally competitive and more cold-hearted. Perhaps that's what we need to be able to compete with the best in the world. It will be up to Klinsmann and those 23 players with him in Brazil to prove that we can on the pitch as well as we recently have off of it.