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Sports

My World Cup (Runneth Overtime)

Is this really the year, after so many false starts, that soccer — 'football' — becomes a truly American sport? Could be, because the U.S. team is showing a heart, and tenacity, that may make up for tradition and natural skill.

Soccer is a terrible television sport. But I'm watching anyway — in Spanish, since I don't get ESPN. U.S. vs. Algeria — the Americans' last chance to move on.
I haven't been into the game for a few years, since I stopped coaching my son Matthew's team as part of the Brookfield Soccer Club — after five or so seasons in elementary and middle school, it was time to move on. Yeah, I missed soccer, for the kids, the community, the exercise, the outdoors. I even — maybe especially — missed the rules: the idea of fair competition, of sportsmanship, of measuring success not by victories, but by whether you did your best.
Sheesh, shots on goal by the U.S. almost immediately, lookin' good!! A modified scissor kick by Number 9 — not Clint Dempsey, must be Herculez (!!!) Gomez — but too high.
That was the great thing about John Barata, the Soccer Extreme coach hired by the BSC to run clinics — the kids worked hard for him because he made practice fun. (John's since moved back to Massachusetts, though he's still coaching.) Every bout of yelling — when the boys repeatedly failed to execute simple moves — was followed by hugs or jokes, because John knew how to get the team on his side. Of course, it helps that John is an incredible ball-handler — he loved to show off now and then, dribbling past, around and through five or six players on his way to drilling the goalie. Once in awhile we parents played, too, and I was faked out of my cleats more times than I care to remember.
Landon Donovon takes a shot, waaaaaay high. The U.S. is looking sloppy this first half, slow, some terrible passing... and Algeria is beginning to look like Brazil, though maybe without the punch....
At the World Cup, of course, everyone can dribble like John Barata — the step-overs, the double and triple fakes, the hooks and pivots, the Zidane spins. Brazil is worth watching just for Ronaldo, whose footwork is astounding, as many YouTube videos testify.
U.S. goal, Dempsey, on a rebound! Wait — waved off!!! Offsides. Ball was bouncing all over, but clearly a bad call on the replay....
An Algerian falls down in the penalty box, trying to draw a foul — sure seems like acting. The counter-attack is nicely defended by the U.S., with a header.
I never intended to coach soccer, but it turned out, when Matthew started playing 10 years ago, that few other parents had played the game. Huh? Growing up in southern California, I'd played practically all my life. No, not a religion... but it was the one sport in which my tiny prep school (17 people in my graduating class) could compete. We even won a few Condor League championships... in part because, in the interests of diversity (this was Santa Barbara, known mostly for old, rich people), the school recruited some local Hispanic students. They were good — the older brother of one of my teammates would toss a quarter over his shoulder, lean forward, and use his heel to flick the coin into the breast pocket of his t-shirt. Impressive, especially when you saw him do it three times in a row.
Jozy Altidor, free run — but from five yards, he sends it over the crossbar!  Man, the U.S. is is overpowering every shot — must be feeling the pressure, because England is leading Slovenia now.
Number 13 for the Algerians, Karim Matmour, breaks through — but his shot, too, is way high. The U.S. defense looks old, confused, on its heels. Goalie Tim Howard — what a great World Cup he's had!! — is ticked. I played some in college, intra-mural, and same as in Brookfield — I ended up captain because few other students had played much (though one or two were way better). We became pretty good after a couple years, to the point that our goalie, George, said playing "wasn't so much fun anymore" — rather than relieving pressure from classwork, our games actually increased it. Losses actually began to hurt... a lesson I didn't forget.
The U.S. isn't going to win, playing like this — running like they'e  hungover, keep misdirecting passes, getting beaten to the ball. What's going on???
Dempsey, a couple more shots — a weak one, hoping for the kind of spin that scored in that tie with England, and a way-right shot. He's shooting like he's desperate....
Yes, it really is "the beautiful game," to use the phrase Pele made famous. I saw him play with the New York Cosmos in 1977 (or was it '78?), alongside other super-stars of the era like Giorgio Cinaglia and Franz Beckenbauer. It was fun to see Pele do his runs, his tricks... but the goal I remember was Beckenbauer's. He played defense... and from just outside his own penalty box, noticed the opponent's goalie was leaning up against the goalpost. Boom — Beckenbauer kicked the ball two-thirds of the way down the field, it was in the net before the goalie even looked up.
Corner kick for the U.S., and in the box they're manhandling the Algerians! Holding, shirt-pulling, but the referees call nothing.
Matmour way offsides on a counter-attack — the U.S. would be losing if the Algerians had more discipline.....
And there was those few games, years ago, playing indoor soccer at the Whisconier Middle School gym. Mostly Europeans and Central Americans — the former focussing on ball control, the latter on speed and footwork. Those games almost killed me: exhausting, plus the constant stop-and-start on the basketball court, the need to anticipate caroms off the wall. And the fact that most of the players were way better than me — faster, in better shape, more experienced.
How many shots has the U.S. missed now? Two easy touches to put the ball in, but no — nice run by Altidore, but the shot's off the crossbar, and Dempsey can't finesse the tap-in. Not much time left....
Fine trap by Algeria's Yedda, but his follow-up scissor kick is nowhere near the goal. Sexy, those scissor kicks, a blind attempt, all in the timing....
There was that one indoor game, though. This guy — small, Ecuadoran I think — kept faking me out, until I stopped biting... and then I hit my own stride, making outside shots. Three goals that game, my finest hour... and just about the last time I played. Go out at your peak, right?
Yellow card on Altidore. Foolish. Good run by midfielder Benny Feilhaber, Number 22... but for naught, off the goalie's knees.
"Mala, fea" — bad, ugly — the announcer says about a center pass for Algeria. Dempsey gets fist in the face, clearly deliberate, he's bleeding pretty well....
Game's over — regulation, at least. Four minutes of injury time, but that's it — and the way the U.S. has played, well, they don't really deserve a win.
Howard lauches the ball on a counter-attack, and Altidore runs down the right side far into the penalty box, nice quick center to Dempsey, but the goalie handles it. Almost. Rebound is to Donovan... who puts it in, easily.
Unbelievable — a last-minute GOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLL!!!
Yup — story-book ending, today, for Donovan and the entire U.S. team, they live to play again (Ghana, on Saturday). And I love that the goal is "sloppy seconds" — the skill wasn't in Donovan's shot, but in his backing up a teammate, hoping for an opportunity. Maybe that's what makes the game beautiful — that even scoreless games are dramatic, can change in a millisecond.
Just like life itself.

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