If you have a pair of eyes, access to a television, and a heartbeat, you will agree – of all the superlatives, none captures the United States’ 1-nil win over Algeria in the FIFA World Cup better than “breathtaking”.
With the bitter taste of two draws lingering in their mouths and the specter of an English lead over Slovenia haunting them for most of the game, it seemed increasingly possible that the Americans would leave South Africa heartbroken, having failed to clear the group stage.
An all-too-familiar feeling set in during the 21st minute, when Clint Dempsey’s goal was called back as offsides, though replays demonstrate that Dempsey was on. Though perhaps less devastating than Koman Coulibaly’s disallowal of the winning goal to Maurice Edu in the 85th minute against Slovenia, the call was frustrating for players and fans alike. For a second time, it appeared, the United States would be robbed of the point they had rightfully earned.
It is to the credit of Team U.S.A., however, that they channeled their frustration into a disciplined effort to best Algeria. As the game continued, the Americans – forward Jozy Altidore chief among them – played with evident hunger. As the second half progressed, however, a terrible knot tied in stomachs across the nation as the U.S. failed to land itself on the scoreboard. With 20 shots taken by the Americans, 8 of them on goal, and clear control of the game, each minute expiring on the clock seemed to lend greater weight to the inevitability of an American goal. They would score. They must. An early exit from the World Cup would be a bitter disappointment.
Finally, in the 91st minute – deliverance. A goal by Landon Donovan off Clint Dempsey’s rebound that can only be described as pure, unadulterated sporting bliss. This kind of moment – heart-stopping, exhilarating, beautiful – was one Hollywood couldn’t beat. It’s why we watch sports, why we care about 22 men kicking a ball around a field.
For a nation besieged by crises too many to count – a devastating oil spill, a faltering economy, two long wars, and a precarious diplomatic milieu, for starters – Landon Donovan gave us more than a pass into the round of 16. He gave us a gift – escapism in the purest sense. A moment in which our pride to be Americans overtook even our heartbeats and we were lost in the bare humanity of the sport, united for a second in the same joy as millions of our countrymen the world over (until, of course, we realized that we were hugging the drunk, sweaty, bearded men sitting next to us, at which point we disengaged and composed ourselves).
Soccer – football, really – is more than just a diversion, though. It’s the world’s game. One needs only step foot in a stadium during an international game to appreciate the madness – the body paint, the turbulent emotions, the incessant buzz of the vuvuzelas. Never a soccer nation, the United States has not quite caught the fever that grips the globe. Which is why syndicated columnist Norman Chad’s suggestion that it would be a blessing if the U.S. lost in the World Cup – as a diplomatic gesture to those with whom we are unpopular – is so asinine. No one will respect us any more for losing; if they respect anything, it is talent, determination, and fair play.
This is why Landon Donovan’s goal was so uplifting (enough to inspire such a long post). On a technical level, it wasn’t especially remarkable – a simple, well-placed punch into the back of the net. (Hats off, however, to Cristiano Ronaldo’s incredible goal against our friends with no fans). It was a goal without pretense, the long-due reward of a tireless effort by the U.S. in the second half to bring home a victory. Donovan said it best himself: “We embody what Americans are about. … We kept going, and we believed.”
In days when faith in this nation has been weakened, Donovan and company have indeed given us something to believe in.
