By mid-May, we'd played Milan three times in four weeks—twice in the Coppa Italia semis and once in Serie A—and were set to play them twice more in an epic Champions League semifinal. The first leg was slated for Naming Rights Park, and then we'd head to the San Siro with a place in the final on the line…
There's a natural desire here to see this tournament as a revelation or proof of arrival, as though we've finally made it across the water and have the shores of a new land in our view. Or else, if it isn't those things, to be a little disappointed, as though it's more a sign of work left unfinished than predictions overcome.
But is there any practical reason to think that US soccer could have experienced a sudden profound change between the Italy loss and the win against Egypt? Would it really be so bad if this were just the latest in a line of occasional stunning results that don't really influence the larger context, like 1930, 1950, or 1998? More»
Bart: Wow, my father an astronaut. I feel so full of…what's the opposite of shame?
Marge: Pride?
Bart: No, not that far from shame.
Homer [quavering]: Less shame?
Bart [happy]: Yeah…
— The Simpsons, "Deep Space Homer"
[EDIT: Still applies at full time, 2-3. More on this match and the tournament as a whole tomorrow.]
Anyone else kind of hate Dani Alves?
They didn't play like green-eyed soldiers of beauty, but this wasn't Chelsea taking tire irons to Barcelona, either. Especially in the first half, before the fatigue and stress started plinking their way up the keyboard, they had some attacking intent. I'd assumed the tactical thinking would be that the easiest way not to lose to the world's best midfield would be to avoid the midfield entirely, but during the great 25-odd-minute spell leading up to Altidore's goal, they somehow found space to exploit, kept possession, and actually dribbled at Spain rather than rainbowing rockets over them. In the second half, granted, the long-ball game turned up after all, but by that point the gods of the match had clearly decided that unbelievable pressure and mind-skewing last-ditch defending were going to carry the day. This wasn't a fluke, in other words; every way the match turned, the US played their role and did what they had to do in it. More»
The first round is done in South Africa and the tournament is building excitement as the semifinals are set to begin. Bafana Bafana managed second place in their group, behind front-runners Spain, while Brazil topped Group B with the U.S. slipping into the semifinals in unbelievable circumstances. Some thoughts from the past few days: More»
And I can say that with authority, because we are the champions. How are we the champions, when we're not even halfway through the season? Keep reading.
Let's do this McKinsey-style, to bring some discipline to the lives of all the English majors in the audience. More»
And the USMNT is through to the semifinal. They play Spain on Wednesday. South Africa will wile away a couple of Brazil's idle hours on Thursday. I should probably peel off a quick patriotic valediction, or at least stumble through 600 words about the decline of Italy (already one of the least buoyant world championship teams in recent memory, and sinking fast), but my brain sounds like a plague of vuvuzelas*, and I want to go look at the parts of each match that I didn't watch while watching parts of the other match and figure out how this mathematical sliver managed to come to pass.
*Seriously, that sound never portends anything pleasant for Egypt.
The two implacable enemies of a successful football club are stagnation and arrogance. Stagnation leads to complacency, to a drowsy sense of timelessness. If things have always been and will always be as they are, why should we bother being fierce? Arrogance leads to laziness and a bitter, spoiled entitlement. If we're special for who we are rather than for what we do, why should we have to prove it?
Like a hereditary aristocracy, in other words, a football club can only thrive with frequent infusions of new blood and a certain degree of external conflict. After winning a second consecutive Serie A title and a first European Cup, I wanted to remake Pro Vercelli over the summer: not to revolutionize the club or reject what made us successful, but to clear the sleep out of our heads, bring in some competitive new talents, and remind the core of the team that while the forgiveness of sins may be perpetual in religion, in football it's just the opposite. More»
Temporarily suspended due to some stuff.
