Can the US Men’s Soccer Team Unite a Divided United States?

In 2013, I was covering a football match in Columbus, Ohio, between the US and Mexico men’s national teams when a man dressed as George Washington ran up to me and shouted, right in my face, “America! America! Damn America! Fuck you!” He did it because he was happy and he wanted me to be happy with him. And I!

One of the main joys of cheering for your country in an international sport — at the Olympics, the World Cup, or the very rowdy curling championships — is the opportunity to become a nationalist in a (mostly) harmless way. Shouting “USA! THE UNITED STATES!” in a stadium is dramatically different from shouting it out, say, an uprising. But the Trump years have made it difficult for Americans alienated by the former president’s “America First” brand of politics to be openly and violently patriotic. Maybe football can help. return it.

Read: A Brief History of ‘America First’

Tomorrow night, the US men’s national team (USMNT) will host fierce rivals Mexico in the next World Cup qualifier to be held next November in Qatar. Even though the qualifying round was only halfway through, a win would essentially confirm the USMNT bid; We Global Football football site already gave them a 95.96 percent chance to qualify, a number that will shoot even higher if they beat Mexico, their only real partner at the top of CONCACAF, the two countries’ qualifying region. Qualifying was crucial this year, after the catastrophic loss of the 2018 tournament, widely regarded as the most humiliating moment in the last 50 years of American football. Which brings us to final The United States hosted Mexico in a World Cup qualifier.

It was on November 11, 2016, three days after the election of Donald Trump, a man who had launched his campaign by naming Mexican rapists and then demanding that they pay for a border wall. The tension is so high into the game that the American Outlaws, the support group for the national men’s and women’s soccer teams, feel obligated to re-emphasize the code of ethics and its culture as an “inclusive and welcoming community.” The US lost a tough and tight match—one that most nations, still in shock from the election, didn’t even realize—and two weeks later US Soccer sacked coach Jürgen Klinsmann. Less than a year after that, the USMNT lost to Trinidad and Tobago, eliminating the Americans from a World Cup clash, their first time out of the tournament since 1986. That failure had far-reaching consequences, including the departure of another player. coach (Bruce Arena) and the restructuring of US Soccer, and it made almost everyone involved with sports in this country lost their collective mind.

Just four years earlier, the USMNT had performed “We’ve arrived” at the 2014 World Cup, an exhilarating tournament highlighted by a John Brooks header that seemed to spark euphoria in every sports bar in the country:

I found watching the video very touching because it seemed like something from 100 years ago—something that could be theoretically still happening today, although it is difficult to visualize. Look at the crowds of people in the video: Chicago, Orlando, Birmingham, Kansas City, Los Angeles, Asheville—all gathered and cheering for the United States with harmonized and pure joy.

Part of the magic of 2014 came from the USMNT’s traditional status as an intermediate contender on the world stage, beaten as usual by global powers like Germany, Brazil and Spain. American sports fans — and Americans in general — tend to think of themselves as underdogs, even when all available evidence suggests otherwise. But in US men’s football, the national image matches reality: USMNT NS an underdog. This makes it an interesting team to root in a way that basketball Dream Team never does. Cheering for the USMNT feels like a punch, which stands in stark contrast to the traditional American patriotism of the past century or so.

Jemele Hills: The problem with mandatory patriotism in sport

This led to the development of a national fandom that I like to call “hipster patriotism”: rah-rah Americana fashion for people who wouldn’t normally wear a T-shirt with an eagle draped in the American flag. It also felt, seven years ago, as if a USMNT victory was inevitable, as if they—we—were on course to win the World Cup one day. Maybe 2026 as early as 2026, maybe not until 2038 or even 2050, but eventually it will happen. Cheering for the team feels like investing in growth stocks.

But then the hipster patriotism movement was mired in the Trump-era convergence and the 2018 World Cup qualifying failure. After that loss to Mexico, most of the US fan base felt reprimanded, uneasy, even a little embarrassed, and the team never really recovered. The latest humiliation, the defeat to Trinidad and Tobago in October 2017, seems predictable in retrospect. The vibe is off all the time, and not just on the pitch.

Cheering for ‘Pepper doesn’t feel cool or ironic anymore. Yes, the team has fallen in the face, and that’s part of it (even as the rising talent on that roster is noticeably rising). But also that supporting the national team in such a brave patriotic way makes me and many other fans feel conflicted, at a time when many of us feel ashamed for our country.

Meanwhile, the US women’s national team continued to dominate as usual—but that didn’t stop the team from being a polarizing force during the MAGA years. Many of its players are outspoken anti-Trump, no more vocal than star Megan Rapinoe, who said that if the USWNT won the Women’s World Cup, “I’m not going to the White House.” To the extent that the right winger seems to be actively cheering against US women at the Olympics this summer. The national team, by design, is meant to be unifying. But nothing seems to hold the country together now.

Read: Women’s Football Feminist Issue

I was at the University of Georgia football game last weekend and saw Let’s go, Brandon banners fluttering behind the planes above the stadium. (It turned out to be an advert for Gettr, a social media network for conservatives.) At the Olympics, the overarching conversation was more about culture wars—athletes’ mental health, kneeling athletes, transgender competitors—than about the events themselves or the ideals of the Olympics. Weston McKennie, one of the starlets of the USMNT, use Justice for George Floyd armband last year and have said, “I represent a country that may not accept me just because of the color of my skin.” McKennie’s words and actions align with the wave of inspiring athlete activism that has been building over the past few years, and which we can see at the World Cup as well. Then, how? Right-wing media actively arm such activism, calling the players “unpatriotic“even like them actually play in the US national team.

Into this offense comes a new version of USMNT, an exciting roster packed with young stars, many of whom are thriving at the highest levels in Europe. They are led by Christian Pulisic, who is the best player in the 2018 team despite being only 18 years old. This is probably the most talented USMNT ever. The roster is fun and very diverse (forward Tim Weah, for example, is son of the president of Liberia), and it’s the kind of team that, if they get hot, can capture the national imagination. Most of the players responsible for the 2018 disappointment have left: The new batch is where they are, and they many easier to cheer.

I, for one, can’t wait to get rooted for the USMNT tomorrow night, when they host Mexico in Cincinnati: Beating our World Cup qualifier rivals in Ohio is a US Soccer tradition I’m ready to return to. But can this country support this team as it did in 2014? Can countries, collectively, be left behind? any again? I do not know. I hope so. Because it sure would be nice to be able to scream “America, fuck it!” again, surrounded by patriots, hipsters or otherwise.