Cups All Around (and not a Drop to Drink)

Some observations after watching most of the Confederations Cup and attending the U.S. Men's National team Gold Cup game against Panama in Nashville:

1.  The Confederations Cup Is No Longer a Test for Anyone but the Host Country.  Sure, you can say that the Germans don't have a B Squad, or that even their second team is better than most other countries, but whatever the excuse or the analysis, the simple fact is that they breezed through the Confed Cup starting exactly zero players who started the 2014 World Cup Final against Argentina. 

While roster turnover is a fact of international soccer, and it would be a shock if Philipp Lahm or Miroslav Klose featured in the 2018 German World Cup team (since both have retired from international football), there are several players from that team (Neuer, Ozil, Muller, Boateng) who seem naturals for the next edition as well. But they were nowhere to be found on the squad as Joachim Low chose a team without a wealth of international experience. The Germans won four games and tied one, "avenging" the tie by beating Chile 1-0 in the Final.

2.  Russia Met its Lowly Expectations. Apparently the "test" for Russia hosting these games, as far as FIFA was concerned, was to prove that it could be at least superficially friendly to traveling supporters of the participating teams and avoid any overt racism, homophobia, or hooliganism. While new FIFA Capo Gianni Infantino said that the tournament was a great success, it remains to be seen whether Russia can duplicate the feat on a much larger scale, with many of the stadiums not used for the Confederations Cup still not complete. Not to mention the pesky North Korean labor abuses upon which those stadia are apparently being built.

3.  Russia's Men's Soccer Team Met its Lowly Expectations. Which is to say, it sucks. Although one player, Yuri Zhirkov, was fun to watch.

4.  Mexico is Still Mexico. Which is to say, it folds on the big stage. The best Mexico has to offer was a poor, poor second to Germany in the semis, losing 4-1, and couldn't beat a Ronaldo-less Portugal in the third place match.

The view of Nissan Stadium in Nashville from the American
Outlaws' section prior to the U.S. v. Panama match. (photo by me)

5.  The U.S. Men's B Team is Not Germany's B Team. Or C Team. No surprise there, of course, but the performance against Panama was dross. Fortunately, the players know it and Bruce Arena knows it. While Arena chose to use the Gold Cup as a testing ground for players who are on the fringe of the potential 2018 World Cup roster, they were out-of-sorts defensively and particularly in the midfield. Which leads to the final observation ...

6.  Shut Up About Michael Bradley Already. After every U.S. match of any significance, the trolls crawl from their parents' basements to complain about how Bradley gives away the ball too much, doesn't play high enough, doesn't play back enough, blah, blah, blah. If the match against Mexico at the Azteca and a Bradley-less midfield against Panama don't convince you of Bradley's quality and the absolute necessity that he be a starting midfielder for the U.S. as long as he wants to strap on his boots and don the shirt, nothing will.

While Kellyn Acosta was good in the warm-up match against Ghana and threw himself around a bit against Panama, the other two center mids against Panama, Dax McCarty and Joe Corona, were abysmal. Here's hoping Arena gives someone (anyone) else a shot against Martinique. But only with the caveat that they will back-up, or at best play alongside, Bradley.

Mostly Right

Here's what I was wrong about in my last post:

1. The U.S. will inevitably lose to Germany.

The Yanks have a chance if they play as well, and play mostly the same players, as they did against China (sorry Kelley O'Hara, you were good, but you're the odd woman out as way has to be made for Megan Rapinoe). Not saying we'll win. Just no longer saying we're sure to lose.

2. Amy Rodriguez (her energy and defending from the front were exactly what the U.S. needed).

3. Assuming Canada had what it took to get past England.

Here's what I was right about in my last post:

1. Lauren Holiday.

2. Abby Wambach.

3. Carli Lloyd.

(photo from usatoday.com)

4. Germany (barely).

5. Japan.

6. Canada.

Things I meant to say and didn't:

1. In case you haven't noticed, the U.S. defense is really, really good. Can you win a World Cup with a great defense and a so-so offense? Undoubtedly. Since the first half against Australia, Hope Solo hasn't had to do much of anything in goal. That's how good Ali Krieger, Meghan Klingenberg (my personal favorite among the defenders), Julie Johnston, and Becky Sauerbrunn have been.

Yet to be determined:

1. Whether Jill Ellis has the guts to sit Wambach and Holiday against Germany. Remember my comment about how Michael Bradley is more at-ease in an attacking role when he knows Kyle Beckerman has his back? Same for Lloyd and Morgan Brian, who has improved by leaps-and-bounds since her first appearance in this Cup. And Wambach, a legendary competitor, simply hasn't got what it takes for 90 minutes of World Cup play.

This will be fun.

That Bradley Guy Again

After the U.S. Men's Team's stunning 2-1 comeback win over Germany in today's friendly, I was tempted to write another post about Michael Bradley. But Jason Davis over at espnfc.com already has.

Or maybe I already have - Davis makes many of the same points that I did after the Netherlands match. Not that I think he's plagiarizing or anything. But maybe proof that sometimes I'm on the mark? Check out the highlighted sections below, then my post from earlier this week.

Michael Bradley leads U.S. to stunning win over World Cup champs Germany

Three musings after the United States closed out a strong European sojourn with a thrilling 2-1 win Wednesday against Germany in Cologne on Jurgen Klinsmann's first trip to his native land as U.S. national team coach.

1. Michael Bradley, playmaker

He doesn't wear the No. 10 jersey (that would be Mix Diskerud), but Michael Bradley is undoubtedly the Americans' driving creative force. Just as he did against the Netherlands, Bradley served as the key man in the U.S. attack, starting moves and setting up goals with his vision and accuracy. Apparently Klinsmann was on to something when he moved Bradley into the role last summer at the World Cup.

Back then, the Toronto FC man seemed prone to trying to do too much, effectively running himself out of games by attempting to cover too much ground. In two friendlies on this European trip, all things flowed from Bradley in the American midfield. His final passes grab the most attention, but he was equally important moving the ball, allowing the United States to gain some semblance of possession whenever possible.

Bradley in today's match against Germany (photo from espnfc.com).

After halftime changes provided him a solid backstop in Kyle Beckerman, Bradley was free to think entirely forward-first. The number of times he both started attacks and put himself in position to be available to finish them is a testament to his improving understanding of his role on this team.

The only black mark on Bradley's performance was the shot he hit directly at the German keeper, Ron-Robert Zieler that would have turned a strong 1-1 draw against the world champions into a stunning win. Luckily for Bradley, Bobby Wood arrived to lace home a wicked left-footed shot with Germany stretched, surprising the crowd and lifting the United States to a second consecutive win on the road in Europe against a top-10 team.

Truly the World's Cup

I watched the U.S. vs. Belgium match in a pub in Canmore, Alberta with C and a bunch of U.S. vacationers. 

I marveled, with my countrymen, at Tim Howard.

I wondered how many would say "I told you so" when Wondo missed the sitter.

No caption necessary (photo from grantland.com).

I groaned when Belgium scored, and scored again. I said to C after the first goal "Klinsmann has to sub Green for Bedoya" (honest, I really did). He listened after the second, and we cheered Green's fantastic goal, then groaned again as chances went wanting at the death.

I listened to Columbia vs. Brazil on XM radio driving from Lake Louise to Jasper, glad I was watching the Canadian Rockies out the car window instead of the match as I heard the cynical play of the former purveyors of the beautiful game and the exasperating refereeing described, convinced that FIFA had stacked the deck in Brazil's favor in every conceivable but subtle way.

I saw two German tourists, faces painted with the German flag, on a sunny Tuesday morning in Banff. Little did they, or I, know what lay in store a few hours later. 

I passed a bar in the Calgary airport those few hours later, saw the game was on, and did a double, then a triple, take. The graphic read: "0 Brazil 4 Germany". In the 27th minute. I asked the guy standing next to me, still incredulous, "is that score right?" He assured me it was with a wry smile. I rushed back to the gate to tell C (she's of 100% German ancestry) of the score and that I was going to watch the rest of the first half, at least.

I rubbed my eyes when, not five minutes later, back at the bar, the graphic said: "0 Brazil 5 Germany." This time I just looked at the same guy, and he just nodded. Not a word was exchanged or needed.

I watched the French CBC station coverage at half time, deciding that even that lovely language couldn't put a pretty face on being down 0-5 in your own World Cup.

I decided that, at least this once, I was wrong about FIFA.

I followed The Netherlands game against Argentina, getting home from work to watch la Albicelestes win on PKs, a result that seemed neither deserved nor undeserved. Then I saw the Dutch destroy a slightly less desultory Brazil in the Third Place match.

I ambiguously watched the Final, half rooting for Germany because of that familial connection, half rooting for Argentina because I believe Messi to be the best player of this, and perhaps any, generation and that this was probably his best chance to add "world champion" to his resume. 

I was pleased that it was not another boring, tentative final, at least not in the first half, and that it was settled not by PKs but by two moments of brilliance (Schurrle's cross and Gotze's finish).

I was glad that a record number of my countrymen watched with me.

Welcome to the World's Cup and the World's game, American. Stick around for a while.

Through

I'm spent.

I've written before about my ambivalence about my love of sports. Particularly soccer. Particularly a soccer tournament run by an organization as corrupt as FIFA.

But I've also resolved to embrace my obsession. And so I watched the U.S. game against Germany with E, didn't sit the whole first half, didn't even sit at half time while eating and pacing. E didn't either, although I'm not sure out of superstition or just nervousness. I hadn't been so nervous since my last Regional championship game. Or my last trial. Or the Ghana match.

I in my Klinsmannesque blue USA polo, E in his brand new away jersey that he had just opened, a present on his 23rd birthday. Moaning, muttering, yelling at the ref (which will either amuse or confirm the suspicions of my referee friends - and, no, I do not count the zebra in the photo to the right giving me a card among them).

This one (photo from ussoccerplayers.com)

Only after Muller scored (and what a fabulous strike) did I decide that particular talisman was broken and sat and watched, as much what was happening in the Portugal-Ghana game as ours, and fretted and groaned and, in the end, exalted. At a loss.

Some of my friends and family, new to soccer, still have problems with the nuances. What is up with added time? Why do players dive with impunity? How can losing a battle mean winning a war?

It's all part of the magic, my friends. There's often the chance of a last gasp. There's always the hesitation for the whistle, the pointing of the arm, the brandishing of the card. And there's also the ability to rely, in the group stage anyway, on good work already done and grinding out a result, and hoping that someone else keeps playing hard on the biggest sporting stage in the World. 

Thanks Portugal. Thanks Ronaldo (never thought I'd say that).

We're through. And that's really all that matters right now. The shirt can stay. 

I'm sitting for the Belgium game, though.

Some random thoughts:

Klinsmann got it right again. I thought Geoff Cameron needed to go after Portugal, and evidently Klinsmann did too. But he stuck to his guns that Omar Gonzalez was his right central defender on the bench and started Gonzalez against Germany. And Gonzalez was very, very good.

Tim Howard was fantastic. Jermaine Jones again was huge, but about as spent as me when the game ended. Bradley not great but better. Dempsey also exhausted (time to get someone else up front -- Altidore or Johannsson -- and let Dempsey play withdrawn?).

If you like soccer, or humor, or even better both, check out the Men in Blazers podcast from Grantland. Spider bites with questionable consequences, tiny bananas, Tiricoism, and, best of all, #wetherrara. These guys are fantastic.

Ian Darke was driving me crazy during the match. E and I kept yelling at him to quit restating the obvious and jinxing us. Michael Ballack, on the other hand, has gotten much better as a studio analyst.

And speaking of improved performances, I begrudgingly give credit to FIFA for lowering the boom on Suarez.

Belgium? I'll take our chances. And Argentina after that? That would be something not to miss.