Don't Eastern European countries train more than that number for tennis?
Long-Term Goals
For Soccer in the U.S.
June 23, 2006
For me, the money shot from the 2-1 loss to Ghana that eliminated the U.S. from the World Cup on Thursday wasn't the nonfoul that led to the penalty kick that changed the game's course. It was the first-half picture from an ESPN camera showing, oh, 60 or 70 people in Times Square watching the game on a giant video screen.
Granted, standing on an island in the middle of Broadway for any longer than it takes for the crossing signal to change is generally not a great idea. Still, I've seen bigger crowds there for three-card monte. So what was ESPN thinking? Look everyone! No one's watching the World Cup in Times Square! We're definitely not a soccer nation yet!
As I type this shortly after the U.S.'s depressing exit from the World Cup -- one fortunate tie and two uninspired losses -- it may seem idiotic to say that the ESPN image was a worse representation of American soccer than the team's poor play in Germany. Or that soccer has never been healthier in the U.S. But it's true. So while you enjoy a World Cup free of hype and hope about the U.S. side, here are five ideas to consider about soccer's future in America:
1. Think long term. Very long term.
The hardest thing for people to accept and understand -- longtime fans, soccer haters, the awakening media, the gleefully dismissive European football world -- is that soccer in the U.S. has to be viewed through a lens more suitable for the Hubble telescope than for our nearsighted sports culture.
By long term, I don't mean the next World Cup. We're talking generations. There is no reason whatsoever that the U.S. should have been considered likely to repeat its performance of four years ago, when it backed into the second round, defeated (as it should have) neighboring Mexico and lost valiantly to Germany in the quarterfinals. And that has nothing to do with being drawn, along with Italy, the Czech Republic and Ghana, into the toughest four-nation group in the field this time around.
Why? The U.S. is still in the absolute infancy of its life as a soccer country. Think about it. In 1990 -- not that long ago -- the U.S. Soccer Federation sent college kids to play at the World Cup, for which the country had not qualified in 40 years. The U.S. was literally one of the weakest national soccer teams in the world.
Short-term thinking is understandable in the screaming in-game chat rooms on Big Soccer, where players are vilified or praised based on their last touch of the ball. But even the emerging class of Big Thinkers about soccer have trouble getting it. Writing about the U.S., Dave Eggers produced the smarmiest piece in "The Thinking Fans's Guide to the World Cup," which assessed soccer in each of the 32 finalist countries. Mr. Eggers made one valid point (that Americans haven't embraced soccer because we didn't invent it, but that's only part of the history) but mostly he fell back on old tropes about the hordes of soccer-playing kids who give up the sport at age 12. Over at another intellectual soccer pub, the New Republic's World Cup blog, after the Ghana match, Brian Sinkoff pondered U.S. coach Bruce Arena's lineups and formations and concluded: "Was the run to the quarterfinals in 2002 a fluke? I'm sure beginning to think so!"
Beginning to think so? Of course it was! The U.S.'s raw talent didn't justify the result. But that happens in soccer; South Korea and Turkey reached the semifinals in 2002, and they're not global soccer powers, either. It's natural to have expected more of this U.S. team; the emotions of the World Cup make believers of every face-painting, flag-waving, passport-holding citizen. But rational fans knew better.
When the U.S. wins its first World Cup in 2022 or 2026 or 2030, and plays beautifully doing it, no one will remember that a team from a generation earlier stunk it up in Gelsenkirchen and Kaiserslautern and Nuremberg.
2. Making world-class soccer players takes decades.
This may be a difficult concept to accept in a nation that put a man on the moon lickety split, but it's true. That the U.S. has developed as many internationally capable players as it has in the last decade and a half -- more than 50 Americans play in Europe now -- is impressive. But there's a World Cup of difference between creating competent players and creating brilliant ones.
The most glaring contrast between the U.S. and the soccer powers in the World Cup was the Americans' lack of strong, aggressive, confident midfielders and forwards -- the guys who take over games, who convert the rare and crucial opportunities. So far in this tournament, I've seen it in players like Steven Gerrard and Joe Cole of England in the 2-2 tie against Sweden, Arjen Robben in a 1-0 win over Serbia and Miroslav Klose of Germany in every game. The U.S. just doesn't have anyone who compares.
Why not? The reasons are numerous -- too many other dominant sports; limited exposure to great soccer; no true soccer tradition; an inadequate development system. Also, the sport is just hard. Touch, feel, vision, intuition—all are more central, and difficult to master, in a freewheeling, unscripted game played on a huge field than they are in other sports. In other sports, kids learn that casually -- often on playgrounds against older, better players.
That will be extremely hard to overcome. There's some good news, though. Forget the volume of kids who play peewee soccer. Quality coaching for the best ones is spreading, in the form of Americans who played growing up and ubiquitous soccer camps that import young Brits and Mexicans and Argentines to blow whistles. More important, the U.S. is beginning to develop the feeder system that's basic to European soccer, which plucks the best prepubescent boys for youth teams run by the professional clubs. About 200 players ages 14 to 17 play for youth teams affiliated with the New York Red Bulls of Major League Soccer.
But there isn't yet the structure or money for a truly expansive national program. About 35 high-school-aged players live, train and attend school full-time at a U.S. national-team program in Bradenton, Fla. "There are another 1,000 guys across this country as good as those 35," says Ivan Gazidis, MLS's deputy commissioner.
In Europe, no soccer prospect would consider going to college. In the U.S. many players don't have a choice, which soccer executives I've talked to believe is an impediment to player development (because intercollegiate competition is too weak). In his New York Times column on Thursday, David Brooks noted that most of the U.S. team players went to college, while their World Cup counterparts on other teams didn't. His larger point is that the U.S. has a great university system that gives it an edge over Europe in the real world. But he seems to assume that the trend will continue in soccer. It won't.
3. America can join the world elite without becoming a traditional soccer nation.
The sport will never -- not ever, no matter what -- supplant football, baseball or basketball as the primary objects of American sporting affections. That's OK. In order to field steadily better international teams, it doesn't need to.
But it does need to create a wider soccer culture. My nonscientific observation is that this World Cup is yielding more media coverage and more general interest in the U.S. than any before. My nonscientific explanation is that a lot of those soccer-playing kids are in their 20s and 30s now and happy to follow the world's biggest sporting event. How else to explain that "The Thinking Fan's Guide to the World Cup" is No. 21 on the New York Times's extended bestseller list this week?
So the creation of a modified soccer culture -- broad interest, but not Fate of the Nation stuff -- appears inevitable. To maximize its impact on the U.S.'s international standing, it would be helpful if some of that were transferred to professional soccer here. The domestic league, MLS, is enjoying a growth spurt. But for it to have significant impact on the development of U.S. talent, MLS will have to reach the point where it can pay players wages commensurate with those in Europe, so it becomes a net importer of international talent, so the level of play rises and helps American players get better.
What will it take? Consistent, golf-or-basketball-sized national TV audiences. A full complement of soccer-only stadiums. Enough great American players to sell to the rich European teams to fund marquee imports who will attract crowds. MLS is nowhere near that yet, and if even if it reaches those goals in however many years, it won't transform the U.S. into a soccer-first country. But it will ensure the U.S. can compete credibly and consistently against Germany, Italy and Brazil -- and Switzerland, Greece and Ecuador. If Argentina can win Olympic gold in men's basketball, the U.S. can certainly become a global force in men's soccer.
4. The soccer know-nothings will be extinct soon enough.
Even as this World Cup gets good-sized TV audiences -- eight million or more for some games if you total viewers on ABC/ESPN and Spanish-language Univision -- you can still feel the uncertainty surrounding soccer's presentation. Because soccer has never "broken through" in TV terms, there's a belief among network executives that it has to be presented "differently."
How else to explain Brent Musberger -- exemplar of mainstream American sports broadcasting circa 1985 -- handling studio duties on ABC? Or this comment in USA Today last week by one of ESPN's play-by-play announcers in Germany, Dave O'Brien: "There's kind of a petulant little clique of soccer fans. There's not many of them, but they're mean-spirited … And they're not really the audience we want to reach anyway."
As the New Republic blog noted, alienating core viewers doesn't seem like a smart way to build interest in your product. That may explain why a lot of soccer fans click over to Univision for the World Cup, even if they don't speak Spanish.
The belief that soccer needs to be Americanized for it to succeed is outdated. ESPN executives talk about using more stats, graphics and ``storytelling'' as ways to lure soccer-ambivalent fans. Don't fix what isn't broken. It only makes the U.S. look silly.
Again, this is a generational issue. In one or two or three more World Cups, ESPN won't have to tap a "baseball guy," as Mr. O'Brien described himself to USA Today, to call the World Cup. There will plenty of capable soccer guys to handle the job.
5. What the rest of the world thinks doesn't matter.
To generalize geopolitically, which is what writers on soccer like to do (and as I've done), the U.S. has a rare and justifiable underdog complex in soccer, in which the soccer establishment luxuriates.
Inside the business, there are two deeply held, and spreading, beliefs among European soccer heavies. First, the U.S. market is ripe for sucking a few million bucks from summer tours because there are enough knowledgeable or curious fans to fill a few football stadiums to watch Manchester United or Real Madrid. Second, there is enough potential talent running around on suburban greenswards to merit extensive scouting, wooing and, if necessary, buying.
But there's little respect for the U.S. domestic product on the field. "Either MLS is ignored, which it mostly is, or it's criticized," says Jeff L'Hote, an American who works as a soccer industry consultant in the U.S. and Europe.
Outside of the business of soccer, when it's considered at all, U.S. soccer as an entity is a source of ridicule, never mind the Americans on European rosters. The Fiver column in England's Guardian newspaper on Thursday described the U.S. team or particular players variously as ``totally incompetent," "butcher boys," "plodsome" and "highly fallible."
Though I'd go with "comparatively incompetent" to describe the U.S. performance, Fiver isn't wrong at all. But, because the subject is the U.S., it is gleefully uncharitable. It's also irrelevant to the more important, and more, um, plodsome, conversation about the sport's future.
Write to Stefan Fatsis at stefan.fatsis@wsj.com
