U.S. Men’s National Team v. Panama in Panama City, 1.25.12: The Little Things

The point can’t be made too often: soccer is a cruel game. I thought of this a week or two ago while watching a replay of Espanyol v. Barcelona, which surprisingly resulted not in a Barcelona victory but in a 1-1 draw. It was the first game I’ve seen involving Lionel Messi in which Messi failed to provide even a single moment that made me say, “This guy is just too damn good to be human.” If the demands of soccer are so great that they can, for an entire match, dampen the immortal mastery of Messi in his prime, imagine what they can do to the likes of players whose talent is merely world-class?

Which is to say that the U.S.’s drab performance against Panama on Wednesday night is hardly unforgivable, even in the wake of their invigorating play against Venezuela just a few days earlier. But the performance was mildly disappointing, even given the fact that the U.S. prevailed 1-0. Panama was on the front foot for long stretches of this game, even before the U.S. had to play a man down when Geoff Cameron was given a straight red card for a tackle just outside the 18-yard box in the 52^nd minute. Panama had 17 shots to the U.S.’s 8, 6 corner kicks to the U.S.’s 1, and—most tellingly—19 open-play crosses to the U.S.’s 3. Panama’s crosses were routinely dangerous, as were many of their shots. The U.S.’s scrappy opponents were highly unfortunate not to tie or even win this one.

So, yes, the U.S.’s effort was not a great one, but there were mitigating factors that went beyond the often cruel nature of the sport. The night was hot and humid, the stadium hostile. As I mentioned, the U.S. played a man down for forty minutes. Perhaps most important, the U.S. scored early, which sapped them of a sense of urgency. The goal came in the 9^th minute, and it was a good one. U.S. left back Zach Loyd sent a high right-footed cross into Panama’s penalty box. The ball glanced off the top of Chris Wondolowski’s head (or his defender’s, it was hard to tell which), ricocheted off Teal Bunbury, and fell to Graham Zusi, who calmly and accurately but very emphatically pounded a side-footed shot under the diving keeper and into the back of the net. From that point on, the U.S. set about killing the long game.

As for individual performances, relative newcomer Michael Parkhurst had a game he probably wants to forget. At 5’ 11”, 155 pounds, he’s small for a center back, and he was victimized on more than one occasion by high balls into the box. In the 78^th minute, for example, a Panama attacker got behind him. A cross then sailed over Parkhurst’s head, leading to a strong header by Panama that was just off target. On the play that led to Cameron’s ejection, a through ball narrowly slid by Parkhurst and fell to the foot of Panama’s Blas Pérez (recently signed by FC Dallas), who drew the foul. While the night wasn’t all bad for Parkhurst—he made some reassuringly composed clearances near the end of the first half, for instance—it was a definite drop-off from his unimpeachable performance against Venezuela.

It’s probably clear by now that this was not a game rich in revelatory moments. That said, C.J. Sapong came on for Teal Bunbury in the 76^th minute and put in an unspectacular, short but very smart and effective performance that belied his youth. (Unfortunately, the same could not be said of Sapong’s Sporting Kansas City teammate Bunbury, whose mostly poor play included an egregious run with the ball towards his own end in the 43^rd minute; he looked like a player in a pee wee league who’d suddenly forgotten which goal he was attacking.) On numerous occasions, Sapong won the ball at midfield and held it effectively when the rest of his teammates were dog tired and the game needed to be killed. Sapong didn’t score or even come close to scoring as I recall. But his outing was a reminder that soccer is not only a cruel game, not only an occasionally spectacular game, but a game that provides countless brief sequences of subtle importance, often far from either goal, that can go unnoticed by the uninitiated. A player, even Messi, can’t always dazzle. But even on down nights he can still be effective by working hard and playing intelligent, fundamentally sound soccer. As my high school basketball coach used to say: “What separates a great player from a good one? The little things.”