by Jamie Trecker

Comment

The 2009 USA men's national team gave an eerie impression of that ill-fated World Cup squad last night in Costa Rica, losing 3-1. The Americans were not only outplayed, they were disassembled and then kicked into touch to boot. Looking sloppy at every position, the USA looked like a team divided, and possibly uncaring.

The flaws of this team were well known going into the match, and they were not only on display, but ably exploited by a Tico side that made this win look easy. Costa Rica's three goals were textbook examples of how to take advantage of poor defending, each one coming either on a horrid mistake, or, in the final case, simple laziness. The Americans gave the Ticos ample space all night long, failing to close them down in the final third and inexplicably failing to bring bodies to bear.

This may have been predictable — the Americans have never won a qualifier in Costa Rica, after all — but it should be troubling. The Americans have designs on being not only one of the greats in our region (which is easy) but one of the greats on the world stage. After tonight, those dreams look fanciful, at best.

History is a great teacher, and to paraphrase Herodotus, circumstances rule men as opposed to the other way around. So, while it's easy to blame coach Bob Bradley for the current mess, it would be unfair not to admit that some circumstances are out of his control.

Yes, his lineup choices are often inexplicable — why Marvell Wynne when you flew guys in from Europe, for example? — and his team's trudge through matches, sometimes looking as if they wished they were somewhere else.

It's also very clear his team hasn't a clue what it's supposed to be doing. They are unable to adjust, and that canard about "playing our game" is meaningless if your team has no game to play. Bradley's grim, dogged style, aimed at revealing as little as possible to the press, seems to have rubbed off on his team, resulting in a grim, dogged and expressionless style of play.

Remember, this was the second straight sub-par road performance in a CONCACAF hexagonal that is hardly rich in world-class opposition. The Americans escaped in El Salvador on a night they should have lost. Looking ahead there was nothing on display last night to suggest that the USA can win in Mexico in August.

Bradley at least admitted the Americans are not good enough. Postgame, he told reporters: "I don't think there was any area at all where we were good enough to win a game against a good team. We were under pressure from the start. We fell short. We recognize that."

Yet, there is a big difference between admitting that and doing something about it. And therein lies the rub.

Frankly, there is little Bradley can do. He seems to be this year's Casey Stengel — a Mets manager loved by his bosses and the media, but given few players to work with, and apparently ignored by some of them.

Too many of the U.S. regulars look all too comfortable. The truth is, as in 1998, as many as nine men already know they have their slots lined up. As long as they don't get hit by a bus, they'll be on the plane to South Africa in 2010.

We have been repeatedly told that the talent pool seems to be deeper now than in years past. But that ignores the yawning gap between our European-based talent and the guys in MLS.

There's also a huge cultural gap. Players who go abroad realize quickly what full-time professional practices and veteran European coaches look like. They may be stunned to come back to our national team camp and run around cones. Privately, players have griped about this for years, but nothing has been done about because U.S. Soccer seems unwilling — or unable — to bring in a coach with real, top-level club and country management skills.

This divide has existed as far back as 1998. Then, although there was just a smattering of guys who had experienced life at the top level in Europe, the gap between the U.S. veterans and the newcomers coach Steve Sampson introduced in the months before France led to a fractured team.

Bruce Arena got the balance right in 2002, mainly because he had guys like Landon Donovan and DaMarcus Beasley and Pablo Mastroeni knocking on the door. Veterans like Claudio Reyna and supposed savior Clint Mathis weren't even sure of starting and you saw the results on the field. The guys who got the call produced, virtually without exception.

But since then the flow of talent hasn't been as rich. At the same time, it often seems that too many people have bought into the notion that MLS must be producing talent simply because it was created to do that job. Now Bradley and his staff seem uncertain how good their overseas guys are and remain reluctant to cut to the chase by putting them on the field and giving them game after game.

Changing a set roster is very hard and timing is everything. Sampson knew he had to change in 1998 but remained loyal to the guys who qualified for him. When it came, the shift was disruptive, not profitable.

Was last night in Costa Rica a warning shot across that same bow?

If I'm Jonathan Spector this morning, I'm wondering why I took a ten-hour flight to San Jose to sit in street clothes. If I'm Mr. Wynne, I might be wondering why I was thrown into the lion's maw cold. If I'm a certain class of guy playing in Europe, I would probably be feeling that my job is safe no matter what. On the other hand, if I'm a guy who's busted my hump in Europe but came up "outside" the clannish world of American soccer, I'm wondering who I have to bribe just to get noticed. And so on.

Thus, we may be too darn close to where we were eleven years ago in sweaty Paris, with a team at war with itself and impotent on the field.

If U.S. Soccer really wants to change things, it is going to have to do something risky — blow up the squad, and seek a new coach.

I'm not convinced this team is playing for Bradley right now in any case, so the latter isn't as painful as it sounds. But the former will require an effort that the organization has only been willing to make once. After finishing dead last in '98, they handed the team over to Arena, who integrated the squad, tossed people out of their comfort zones, and made clear that this was a national team, not a club side (Arena had his own problems, of course, but that's another story).

The problem is control, and U.S. Soccer, bluntly, has too many control freaks. The idea that their innate genius just might not be getting the job done, or that their tremendous development system isn't up to snuff doesn't seem to be on the table.

The ego issues, which have long been a part of U.S. Soccer's strange makeup, would have wowed Freud. So, nothing changes. Instead of hiring a big-time coach (as promised, mind you) they hired third-choice Bradley. Instead of pushing to shake the squad up, they spend a lot of time trying to tell the people watching the team that they don't really know what they're looking at. The scoreboard? Ignore that!

Sadly — for the fans, the coach and the players — this has created an atmosphere reminiscent of the old Soviet state ... unchanging and trapped in amber. This team might not be great, but it could indeed be better.

But right now is the time for change. There is time to get it right, but that time is short. A win over Honduras, while required Saturday night, is not the answer.

Jamie Trecker's newest book, "Love and Blood: At the World Cup with the Footballers, Fans and Freaks" is out now from Harcourt. Jamie is assisted by Jerry and Janice Trecker. Contact Jamie at jamie.trecker@gmail.com and visit his blog and website at www.jamietrecker.com.

The views and opinions expressed by Jamie Trecker do not necessarily reflect those of the Fox Soccer Channel or FoxSoccer.com.