This Is American Soccer, US Soccer, MNT, WNT, and MLS - Tackling the subject of Soccer in the US, and worldwide.

You say to yourself: I must be one of the lucky few. I got to go to the secret US MNT game last night in Foxboro. They closed off half of Gillette Stadium just for me and my friends. And then you wake up from the dream and realize that no, the game wasn’t a secret, it just felt like it because we packed the fewest number of fans into the largest American stadium we’ve played in since the Gold Cup - not to mention it was the coldest night yet this fall.

Rewind

I arrived three hours early, naively thinking everything would be as cheerful as Columbus. I couldn’t have been more wrong - the three hour drive (and the last three days) from New York City should have taught me something. This storm was due an epic poem it lasted so long. It dictated much of the night. No tailgaters. People huddled in heated cars. A few kids played soccer tennis over a parking rope, with Nike gear on no less. But Nike, like the rest of us, was left out in the rain. Even their vans, usually a magnet thanks to their wall-sized television screens airing their certain mix of soccer-come-music-videos, saw little attention. A team of youngsters cruised by, watched for a moment, then ran into the heated Patriots pro-shop where they waited for the gates to open. So, I went on into the stadium early, had some food and tried to stay dry like everyone else. I found the players bench, with those near-trademarked, curved plexi-glass covers, a nice retreat from the wind. It looked like it would be one of those nights. I was curious how many people would show, when they would kick me off the bench.

Yet again another litmus test I said to myself. This American Soccer thing is so fickle right now. The grassroots of the country are in full bloom, while at the pro-level, well, it’s a different story. Call it a sapling, still growing, yet to bloom.

Taste Testing

While there was a huge lack of attention for this game: fewer fans (including a smaller Sam’s Army), less media (probably a third of the photographers that were at Columbus), and nary a starting player, there were a few new storylines on Saturday, with just about everyone getting a taste - especially Taylor Twellman and Kyle Martino, who took a big bite with their first international goals.

Not a single starter from the Mexico game saw time, except for Ralston, who subbed in the middle of the second half. The only thing I did more than check my roster sheet last night was look to the skies and wonder how it wasn’t raining (it held off the whole game but of course poured the second I left the stadium). Arena’s urge to check his talent pool continued Saturday, and it’s really anyone’s guess who he will take, but of all the potential reserves, I think Santino Quaranta is the only one who really increased his stock against Panama. One word: Versatility. Soccernet’s Jeff Carlisle beat me to this one, but the kid played great on both sides of the field, feeding balls to the mix-bagged of strikers, who for the most part continued the inexplicable inability to finish. The only other thing I will say is that I did begin to feel better about our midfield reserves. With all the recent injuries, I feel a bit better about who will fill the shoes of guys like O’Brien if they can’t go. We, however, need to score a few more goals. I know I’ve been preaching Defense Wins Championships, which I still believe, but at some point you do need to score, especially when easy chances are presented.

Timing is Everything

If you haven’t noticed the change of dress on the website, Nike unleashed their new soccer campaign, Don’t Tread On Me. While on the surface it seemed the worst possible time and place to do such a thing, after thinking about it on the drive home to New York City through the wee hours of the night, I came up with another theory. It’s all about this ’screw you, soccer is here, whether anyone cares or not’ mentality. And the US MNT is just one part of that, one tributary pouring its angst into the crater lake of soccer, where the void is filled with the want and desire of soccer nation. So what better place to unveil it than a game where only a real fan is paying attention? The casuals are long gone with the Mexico game.

And there I was, with the survivors, at the well-documented meaningless last qualifier.

In the pouring pre-game rain, soccer weighs 115 pounds ’soaking wet,’ as they say. It could use some more weight. That’s how Don’t Tread on Me translates for me. Long before Nike came calling, I had this angst boiling because soccer was/is looked over and misrepresented. Too small. So, I read it as a challenge. Not for the opponent, but for us. The MNT, the fans and every soccer player are challenged to make the naysayers wrong.

Saturday’s game was for the fans who truly live for the sport and our team, who take pride that a win with our reserves (and a Mexico loss) means we sit as the final point leader in CONCACAF. It was for those guys in the stands who pulled their shirts off in the frigid fall breeze, U-S-A-! painted across their bare chests, to tell the cameraman and whoever was on the far end of those wires that people do love this game. So maybe the suits in Portland weren’t thrilled at the Neilson Ratings or the poor attendance or my opinions, but in spirit, the atmosphere of Saturday’s game might rest as the perfect metaphor moving forward. People can say what they will. No matter really, where we go, just as who we allow to walk over us, now rests as our responsibility.

To paraphrase Bruce Arena’s assertion from past press conferences, will the real soccer fans please stand up.