Following each World Cup we keep hearing the same things. “We keep improving each year, and things are getting better,” yet we keep attaining the exact same result. As result’s go, nothing’s changing. Everything’s the same. Is this not the thinking of a lunatic? We still have bad central defenders, mediocre midfield talent, and mediocre forward talent, with a great goalie. We have a good goalie. Ya think? One thing can be said: our American goalies get a lot of practice. In 1990 I was convinced Tony Meola was the best keeper in the world. Why? Because if you watched closely, the guy was all over the place because his teammates were dead set on showcasing his talent. What a bunch of nice guys. It seemed as though he was the only keeper in the tournament having to make twenty saves a game. He kept a 5-1 score sheet from being a 10-1 score sheet. 
   How is it we keep improving? I think the idea is, taken as a whole, we keep improving? I suppose it’s assumed we’re including the whole history of the United States soccer team. Since 1950 it took forty years for us to return to the World Cup, thanks to a little genius from a UCLA alumni. Since 1990 our big moment was defeating CONCACAF foe, Mexico, sending us to the quarterfinal match, eventually losing to Germany, in 2002. 2006 was forgettable, 2010 had a spark, and in 2014 we finally beat Ghana (who was responsible for American misery in 2006 & 2010). So we made the round of 16 – big deal. We were outplayed in every game. Our tactic was to sit back, counter, and hope for the best. Ergh. This isn’t improving, this is avoiding the problem. Following the tournament some of the consensus was that Americans needed to improve “technique” and “possession.” Where was Stuart Holden, Freddy Adu, Jose Torres, Bobby Convey (maybe), and Brek Shea? Bench the two center backs, replace them with Bradley and Jones, start Yedlin and place Zusi at the other outside back. The biggest problem with American soccer, which will never be fixed, apparently, is the two center backs. They have no offensive skill whatsoever, awareness or willingness to want the ball back. If you take Bradley and Jones – mediocre central midfielders – and place them back as the two defensive midfielders they will excel with their current midfield skills. So therefore, offensively, they will control the game better than our defenders of the past; they’ll want the ball at their feet; they’ll make better passes; they’ll control possession – and defensively they’ll be able to stand their own. As a defensive back you need to be over six feet tall – in most cases, notwithstanding Cannavaro and few others – so you can clear out crosses with the head. So there you go: problem solved. This is the fix for 2014.
   We have creative playmakers. A lot of them get lost in the shuffle to make an MLS team. Just because you’re not in the MLS doesn’t mean you’re not good enough. There’s only a few spots available and the coaching instincts tend to pick players with more of the traditional American athletic look; the guy that passes the immediate eye test; big bruts that will crush through a wall. Had they been raised in the U.S., I’m venturing to guess, with 100% certainty based on a 36% rate of failure that Iniesta and Xavi would’ve been overlooked by the MLS. They’re not wall crushers. When we think of a good player we think of guys that will attack the green grass and run on it hard like Jozy Altidore. They run hard. They kick hard; that’s what we consider soccer talent. They have to take over the game with some sort of brut force to catch our eye. Then we think if we can put all these brut forces on the field together we can’t lose.  Not how it works. It’d be nice to have a bunch of brut forces, but, they have to have the psyche, the know-how, the instincts, the patience, the soccer IQ of a possession-oriented team. Many coaches say they’d prefer technical talent over pure speed with no technical talent. Technique and IQ make up for a lot of pure speed. The ideal players are ones that have the technique, IQ and a sub-4.8 forty, with a sub-11 hundred yard time.
   But for generations to come, the names will change and the problem will remain the same. If we can recognize the importance of turning central defensive midfielders (or, practically speaking, any kind of center midfielder) into central backs America will definitely improve. If we can recognize the importance of taking forwards – like Roy Lassiter – and turning them into outside defenders, with instructions to attack, America will improve drastically, and, without a doubt, win the whole damn thing. 

   Everywhere you go today, for a service, they’re trying to show you how to do their job. I ask the man at FedEx to copy a double-sided piece of paper for me – which I have much trepidation over and dread it’s as hard as I imagine it to be; NASA-like instructions, Japanese braille, and Egyptian hieroglyphic motif all compiled into one – and he points over to the copy machine – a prop from Terry Gilliam’s Brazil – and says, “It’s easy.” Right, it’s “easy” he says; this is code for: I’m about to show you how to do my job. “All you do is copy the first side by pressing the scan and paste button, next to the flashing green arrow, then the screen will ask you a series of questions” – I don’t want to know how. That’s your job. I came here to pay you to do the job for me. I’m scrounging everyday for pennies to come in here and pay you with – one step removed from a guy next to a highway exit holding a sign reading “it’s not begging, it’s caring.” That’s why you work here: to do it for me. You’re getting paid. I’m not. I’m paying you. You do it. Quit telling me how I could do it. I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to learn. In fact, I don’t want to learn anything here. That’s how paying for a service works. You’ve been trained, you know how, I pay: you do. Then the result is, I do nothing. That’s what I want to do. Like Spinoza, Sunyata, the guy from Office Space: nothing.
   Even after you’ve implied you want them to do it – or flat our told them so – they stand at the machine with you, walking you step by step, convinced they’ll show you how to do their job one way or another. “So you see, just press that. Can you take it from here?” they ask as though you’re a toddler pushing triangles into triangles, squares into squares and circles into circles. When you see how it’s actually done you realize never in your wildest dreams you would’ve figured that out on your own. Rather, you would’ve been pushing triangles into squares for hours. There’s buttons and color options and size options and paper placement issues and saving and storing and arrows and calligraphy dissertations. It feels like a test course to becoming an astronaut.
   You tell him, “No. I can’t. You showed me once. It would probably take 20 examples for me to attain a primitive understanding of how to merely get through one-third of the task. I didn’t know I was being graded, I didn’t want to watch, I didn’t want to learn anything – I didn’t come here to learn. It’s ten o’clock at night, I’m tired, my exhaust meter is out, I’m at my limit of learning capabilities and I have no desire to learn how to do your job. It’s your job. You. Yours. Not mine. You-yours-you. Your job. You. Not me. You. Got it? I’m paying to have a job done – not to learn something.”
   Every time they show you how it’s done they conclude by saying, “So now that you know how, next time you can come in and do it yourself.” As though you want to come in and do it by yourself. We’re swimming up stream again, for no reason whatsoever. Again, I don’t want to do it by myself. In fact, every time I come in here I want to arrive as dumb as I was the last time, and I want you to do it for me, every time. It’s not my job. It’s yours. I don’t want the added pressure in life to learn another skill I’m going to use every Solstice or Equinox. It’s just not that important to me. Besides, it’s the principal of what’s wrong here: you’re trying to have a customer do the work you’re responsible for. It’s what you’ve been trained for, not us. It’s what you’re getting paid for, not us. Quit trying to teach or show or train the common layman how to do your job. It’s yours. You. Not me. Yours. You own it. You do it.

   The new way of playing soccer: scoring goals, attacking, playing proactively – proactive, the possession game (“…which people didn’t know what to do with” Lalas), and within that, a different way of playing. You know that possession game, how different it is. It’s so different. It’s that new brand of soccer. No one’s ever heard of it. Because when West Germany won the title in 1990 the last thing they did was possess the ball. I see how “new” this possession thing is, laid down by Spain. As a matter of fact, it’s so new I didn’t see Brazil 58’ playing the two-man game (passing back to the player that just passed to you) in the image of modern Spanish style soccer. Or is that an illusion? Nope, I did not see that. Spain has brought that style of play to a new level, but it has its roots in the depths of soccer history. “How to combat Germany?” Haven’t we heard these things before? People will risk things to go forward and score goals, as though they didn’t in the past. Some of these coaches have the courage to go forward and score goals, as opposed to what – coaches that don’t want to score goals? Everything’s new and great and marvelous and no one knows how to counter this new way of playing – the way of playing that scores goals? Huh? What?
   One salient factor the top teams have in common is passing to one another within a matter of inches (of the opponents’ outstretched shoe). On top of that, Germany, the winning team, shared a similar trait with previous Cup champions – creative midfield play. Of course, every team, in theory, on one level or another, whether they’re right or not, tries to field a team with one or multiple creative players (e.g. Lothar Matthaus, Zidane, Ronaldinho, Pele, Maradona). In 2010 it was Iniesta and Xavi. In 2006 it was Pirlo, Totti (though, he was absent in much of the final). In 2002 it was Ronaldinho and Rivaldo. In 1998 it was Zidane and Deschamps. In 1994 it was Rai (for the early rounds), later replaced with a group effort helping in the creation, for forwards Romario and Bebeto. In 2014 it was Schweinsteiger, Kroos, Ozil, Lahm. These are all teams with strong creative playmakers. The other teams lack that trait. They have inferior creative playmakers. They lack the skill. They lack the intuition; the instincts; the eye for the moment; the eye for the right pass; the eye for the right dribble; the eye for the right interception – many of these traits are things that can’t be taught. They may be improved on, in some degree to another, but, typically, they can’t be taught. The player either has it or they don’t. Some things Platini did, you can’t explain. He saw a pass before it was realized as a possibility by the opposing team, and he made it, in the wink of an eye. Valderrama, Roger Milla, Riquilme, Veron, Geovanni, Arshavin, to name a few, had or have this capability. Many of these players didn’t win the World Cup, but that has much to do with their support system rather than their individual play. What they did was raise the quality of play on their respective teams. When it comes to World Cup wins, each championship team has creative playmakers that stand out amongst the other tournament players. Their passes are a little bit better; their instincts for the right moment are a little bit better. And, as is often the case a coupling of these types of players come together at the right time. There’s nothing new about it, but, for those who are just waking up to it, be it Americans or Europeans figuring out what’s wrong with their system, such as Russia or England, it might just be a revelation.

   My girlfriend and I saw a sign on the road advertising: “Puppies for sale.” Of course, you have to see that. Wait, have we checked off the stereotypical list of other things to achieve in the day: Khakis from The Gap, frosty smoothies, and a chair from Ikea? Okay, we’re ready to view puppies. But I’m not satisfied yet. Shouldn’t we pay homage to Pat Tillman? I mean, look at me: a Khaki wearing, smoothie sipping, chair buying sad excuse of a man. What the hell am I doing? I should be settling scores, running laps, slamming the remote against the sofa armrest instead of getting up to replace its battery. I should be doing more. Then I figured Tillman, guys like him, would be in favor of taking a leisurely break every now and then. You put in some work – you take a break. So let’s see some puppies. This, I should warn myself, is not a good idea, I’m thinking as we drive in. I’m a sucker for dogs. The problem is they take away my capacity for reasonable thought. When I end up talking to them (part one of the problem; I’m “talking” to them), they see me through the lens of the babies from Raising Arizona, staring at H.I. McDonough; googli-eyed, bouncing them around, speaking to them like infants. They take me back to a place I shouldn’t be: a mentally regressed third grader that crosses wires between proper English and baby talk. I’m the type of dog owner that, when confronted with a sick, dying dog, and the Vet assures me that, “All dog’s go to doggie heaven,” I’ll retort, saying, “Not this one – she’s gonna live forever!” Dogs make you act delusional. You’re thinking becomes, adjusted. As a productive member of society you are on record telling a colleague, “I believe the numbers for the report are reflected in the overhead of the cost effective revenue surplus from VIX reports, as stated in the IMF’s recent findings,” whereby seeing a dog, only moments later, you’ll be overheard saying, “Woogie, woogie, woogie!” So you can imagine my delight laying eyes on ten, tiny little one-week-old dogs (not even puppies), no bigger than a hand. It was a front row seat to the Nature Channel. My girlfriend began questioning who I was seeing me react in such a way, suggesting on the spot we open our own dog farm. (This would be in addition to one of my other ideas: let’s rent a boat, go into the Bermuda Triangle and see what happens, or, based on my love of the Lost City of Z, let’s try to re-enact an episode from Survivor Man with no formal training whatsoever.) “I declare right now we house and take care of hundreds of dogs, sell them, possibly, to the right owners, and basically become dog raising people.” I was in. I was definitely in. For inspiration, to start our own dog farm, I was overboard eager to purchase not just one of the little guys but the whole pile of em’. They were pure breed cross mixes of German Shepherds with Golden Retrievers. The owner said, “The cost for one of these fellas is twelve-hundred dollars.”
   There’s a lot more actual work with dogs than meets the eye. It’s not all, “Woogie, woogie, woogie” – it’s more like, “Feed me, walk me, feed me.” With a dog you become Rick Moranis from Little Shop Of Horrors, with no life of your own, shuffling back and forth, constantly trying to appease the thing. Who’s in charge around here anyway? All the dog food – apparently they don’t graze on grass anymore. Is the dog going to impress guests with paw-shakes and playing dead, or is it going to fall short of a good performance, and crack under pressure? The grooming, the dog parks, the dog’s mental wellbeing – is the dog getting enough exercise; is the dog depressed; is the dog playing with other dogs it’s own age; is the dog feeling appreciated; has the dog taken its medication; why is it limping? It was a good idea while it lasted. 

   The World Cup just zipped by. There it went. Gone. It’s over. Like that. It started, then it finished, in one fell swoop. The group stages are the best times, as everything’s up for grabs. Everybody’s figuring out who’s who and what’s what; which teams are good, which teams are under performing. The group stage seems to go on forever. Then the sweet 16 starts and they play double-headers which ends the sweet 16 in a heart beat. Then for the quarter-finals they play double-headers which sweep right through those in one or two days and it feels rushed. It’s as though every four years something really cool happens, and then it’s over too fast. It would be as if Apple decided to keep their technology to themselves and every four years they’d drive an open train cart back and forth from Cupertino to San Rafael – right next to George Lucas’s house – for two weeks and then close everything up for the next four years. It would be very expensive to travel there, lodge at hotels, eat out, and reserve places along the road to catch a glimpse of the neat stuff, and then, like the wind, it’d be done and over with.
   At the Sweet 16 and quarter-final rounds FIFA should play one game per day, so we can drag it out – drag out the drama, allow us to absorb everything that happened in one day, talk about it, dissect it, analyze it to death, like a verse from Keats or Shakespeare, and then play a single game the next day. Slow it down FIFA, give us some time to enjoy the one thing that comes around like a rare comet, like the perihelion of Neptune, every four years. 

   Despite Brazil embarrassing themselves against Germany, raising concerns over whether or not Brazil still has it, the United States should not shy away from studying their approach to the game, how they play it, and how we can blend their style into our long term goals in American soccer. After all they have five World Cup titles. People have been saying they’re “hiding behind those five championships.” It’s an odd thing to say, because, they have five championships. Call it what you will, they have five of em’! Get used to it. They can fall every now and again. This doesn’t mean they’ve fallen from the top. They’re still on top; they’re still the best; they’re still the leader in world football. They won their last title in 2002, not too long ago – only three World Cup’s back. Did they screw up? Yeah, they screwed up terribly, by playing mediocre and getting to the semi-finals. They picked all the wrong players. They didn’t look Brazilian. The coaches chose safety in boring defensive minded players as opposed to outward flashy minded players. The United States basketball team went through a similar nightmare in the mid-2000s when Puerto Rico – right, literally Puerto Rico – defeated the men’s national team in the Olympics. It was devastating to the United States; people starting freaking out; they weren’t having it; it was the worst that could’ve happened. In the end, Puerto Rico out placed us in the tournament. It was embarrassing, no body wanted to own it, players looked sheepish, turning away from interviews in shame. 
   Everybody was shocked and outraged and confused and a little scared. Could this happen again? If we put out our B or C teams (teams that should win no matter how talented the opponent is) is there a chance they might lose again? Immediately, the pressure was put on and Kobe Bryant, Lebron James and D Wade were called up, basically being told: don’t make plans, you’re on the team. Calls were likely made to Shaquille O’neal: “Shaq, how’s that toe of yours? You good? Your bunyan okay? Think you could pull it together?” Word got around that Kevin McHale had a gym membership, as he was approached, “How are those old injuries Kev? You feelin’ good? Maybe you’ve gotta a tournament in ya? You been talkin’ to Larry, by chance? How’s his back?” “Where’s Michael? Didn’t he just play on the Wizards a couple months ago? Let’s get him.” It was all out frantic behavior aiming for one goal: put together a sure thing team that would not only win the next Olympics, making up for our embarrassing display against Puerto Rico, but win by large margins, re-establishing the dominance of U.S. basketball in the eyes of the world. And that happened as our big name stars took the reigns of the team, blowing by the competition and winning the title over a very competitive Spanish team. The past fifteen or so years have been a wake up call to the American basketball system and the Brazilian soccer federation. The competition from international opposition has risen significantly. In the distant past, before color TV, when world leaders had names like Eisenhower, Mao and Stalin, both the American basketball teams and Brazilian soccer teams had limited competition – in the case of soccer it was more widespread with traditional power houses Germany, Italy, Holland, Argentina, Uruguay, England, Russia (USSR), Spain, Sweden, Hungary and some others that have oscillated in strength over the past fifty years or so. Soccer had a wider field of competition and slowly entering our common era – where many athletes play and train within the same club systems – the weaker teams have caught up, presenting a true challenge to the traditional top dogs. Brazil has to deal with better teams from Cameroon, United States, Japan, Greece, Chile and Algeria, to name a few. The American basketball team used to be weary of basically just the USSR but Ronald Reagan, Reaganomics, astrology and a stringent lineage of B-rated movie experience to reflect on broke up that heirloom, and, the growth in basketball’s popularity around the world – which has boomed since the 80s and 90s – has created strong teams in Argentina, Brazil, Italy, France and Spain, all of which are much better today than twenty years ago.
   With this said, Brazil is still a leader of world soccer, an innovator of creative talent, a team that should be admired for ingenuity. They’re just taking a little break. 

   The one true way Brazil can make up for the 7-1 semi-final loss to Germany is to beat Holland soundly, by a score of four or five to nothing. There seems to be too much discussion and nervousness from people concerning the future of Brazilian football. They have five world championships, more than anybody else, and after one mediocre tournament and bad, anomalous loss they need to “re-think” everything. What they need to “re-think” are the players they select for the team. In 2010 only two starting players were under six feet tall, Robinho and Danny Alvez. The team had talent: Kaka, Melo (the eventual goat), but they lacked some style; they were a little too defensive, and dull. Many people blamed coach Dunga, the very player-type Brazil is lacking right now as a defensive midfielder. Alvarez, Fernandinho, Paulinho, Oscar, Ramirez are not the Dunga type of a player that that position needs. They all lack the leadership qualities Dunga had as a player. He knew if success was happening on the field from moment to moment. So did Gilberto Silva, who came after Dunga. They both had a good grasp over what was working and what wasn’t working from beat to beat. They had a knack for anticipating. They kept the defense organized and cool headed, which helped the whole team prosper with possession and confident play. They could direct others on the field by words and example; they were like coaches on the field in this regard. This present group lacks that. David Louis is not a good leader. He tries, and that’s the problem. The more he tries to lead the more a good leader is being left in the ruffled shadow his afro leaves behind. You get the feeling he’s gotten this far, with limited talent, based on his Side Show Bob look; at any tryout people are bound to say, “Look at him, who’s that guy?” It’s the Alexi Lalas syndrome. When he played, Lalas had the huge red afro and a goatie bigger than ZZ Top’s guitar. Had he sported a flattop crewcut his whole life we’d never have heard of Lalas.
   Leadership seems a big problem on the Brazilian side. The captain, Thiago Silva, sitting out during the Germany match, based on two previous yellow cards, had his hat – supporting the loss of Neymar – tilted on his head sideways, like a gang member, a hip-hop roadie or a skater punk. Really? He looked like Brittany Spears on a 2AM binger outside a casino in Vegas texting Fed-Ex about child support and a new pair of really cool socks. Is this the look a captain should sport during the game? At the game? Wear whatever you want outside the field, during your own time, but when you’re at the stadium, representing your team, your country, and the World Cup at large, take some advice from the NBA’s dress code policy: wear appropriate attire, setting a good example for the sport, the league, in this case, the tournament. Take it from Tony Romo: backward hats equal zero championships. Look into it. Ask Howie Schwab. I'm sure there are a few backward hat wearing champions, but the majority of them wear a hat like a normal truck driver would, straight and forward. If you’re a member of the team have some common sense. This tilted hat shows a lot about the mindset of the leaders on that team. He’s like a kid. That’s fine, but that attitude is part of the reason Brazil was so unsteady throughout the tournament. They were on shaky ground in every game. Where were the coaches or elders of the Brazilian team? Couldn’t one of them have told him to shape up and wear the damn hat straight and forward? They were immature. Germany played mature, organized and creative. Brazil lacked practically everything in this World Cup: creativity, flair, organization, multiple attacking threats, good defense from all players that can play both sides of the field. It came down to player selection: no Gonso, no Pato, no Robinho, no Cicinho. No creative players. No Dunga or Gilberto Silva for good defensive leadership. There were too many defensive minded players on this year’s squad that lacked offensive superiority, and, that were shaky on the defensive end. As many Brazilians have said in the past, "It's better to lose with great style than to win with boring play." Where in the world is Junior, Falcao, Zico and Socrates? Reverting to Tele Santana's vision of artistic soccer, from the 1982 Brazilian team, is the best idea right now.  

   The issue of how to fix Brazil is deeper than what just happened. To put this 7-1 loss in perspective is like seeing a U.S. Olympic basketball team play against a very talented Spanish team and lose 140-40, in home game, in New Jersey, in front of a myriad of awestricken fans, covering their mouths in shame and utter shock, unsure if they're being fooled by a higher power or not. 
   All tournament long, people were saying this doesn’t look very Brazilian. They looked unorganized. “This team looks different than previous Brazilian teams. They don’t look right. They’re barely squeaking by. They're winning on heart and effort and the twelfth man.” Exactly. The problem started before the World Cup began. The wrong players were chosen. “But you can’t sit there and say 'coulda-woulda-shoulda.'” Well, yes you can. That’s the problem. Before the World Cup began myself, and others, were wondering why the lineup looked so boring. They had the wrong team on the field. It’s not a matter of supporting “what they got.” It’s a matter of realizing what they got isn’t working. They didn’t have a fair chance. It’s not that Brazilian players have become inherently defensive over the years – it’s that the coaches have chosen these types of players, to secure victories with safety nets. Usually, the Brazilian players are full of creativity and tend to thrive on the offensive end of the field. This definitely wasn’t the case during this World Cup. At times, it was hard to watch. 
   In 2010, following the defeat in the World Cup by Holland, Brazil appointed Menezes as the coach, who in turn, brought out Neymar and Gonso – teammates from Santos – for their debut against the United States, in a friendly that Brazil looked very good in. Also brought up to the team was Pato. It was a creative looking unit with Neymar, Gonso, Pato, Robinho, Alves (as one of the outside boosts) and Ramirez sweeping things up as the defensive midfielder. This was a very potent looking group. Pato might be a crybaby but he’s a great talent, with tremendous speed. Gonso is that creative midfielder Brazil is known for. Then coach “Big Phil” took over and changed the lineup quite a bit. Big Phil is a great coach, and though he took the blame, I don’t think it was completely his fault. In player choices before the tournament, yes, it would be his fault, shared by those around him, making the lineup decisions. However, this team, as bad as they played against Germany, is not a 7-1 team. These weird things happen. Every once in a while we hear a neutron star ticking away, mistaking it for a UFO. It’s not. It’s a tremendously bizarre pulsar, ticking away; organized, rhythmic, timed to perfection - very German.  Every time and again a good team, which is what Brazil was, with or without Thiago Silva and Neymar, will lose in a big way. The other team – in this case, a perfectly operating German side – scores goals in waves and the defeat is weird, bizarre and lopsided. These things happen, even to the best of them. Brazil has to field more creative players in the future; talented offensive players, with good, confident passing and dribbling which leads to more control over the game. With more control, you have more possession, which leads to good defense from everyone. When the team playing extremely offensively loses the ball, they tend to play better defensively and win the ball back, quickly. For one, they want the ball more; they have been enjoying the possession, and it’s addictive. And two, the other team has lost their nerve. They forgot what it’s like to have the ball and they cough it up easily. A great example would be this game. Germany had brilliant possession and they won every ball back, as Brazil was desperately chasing the ball around, standing, wondering if they’d ever get possession back. When they had possession it was rattled and disjointed. Despite not having two of their main players, this is what happens when the other team is dominant offensively. Bring out the real Brazilian talent and things like this won’t happen. 

   The United States needs to be more of the bad boys of international soccer. Louis Suarez stole some American thunder - Mike Tyson bites; like it or not he collectively represents the United States as our best biter. At the Caanes Film Festival he couldn't move. Were they thinking: is this the former heavy weight champ, who says crazy stuff to his opponent like "i'll eat your children," who went to jail? Yep, that'd be him. And they were also thinking this was the guy brave enough - or looney enough - to bite his competitor on international TV - forever cementing the United States' patent on biting someone in an international sporting event. We may have a legal case on Suarez for infringing on our patent rights. Regardless, Americans are obnoxious people by nature, that's what we are, that's what we do. We're the least liked vacationers around the world; this has been documented; people actually voted - we're the least liked vacationers around the world. Could it be because we travel to places like Sweden and Italy, demanding fries and barbeque sauce from restaurants that don't serve fries or barbeque sauce? 
   Our players have been raised to think Germany and Brazil are better than us. We're timid, we're complacent. We need to be the bad boys of the game; the Isiah Thomas Pistons of soccer - throw down a couple full nelsons, nuggie some guys. People around the world abhor us anyway so let's ride that wave of hate all the way to the Karate Kid Cobra Kai Johnny and Bobby mid 80s "What?! This arcade game took my quarter? I'm gonna smash the window in! Somebody get a manager over here, now! God, my allowance isn't big enough! I need more quarters, gimme-gimme-gimme!" That's what we are: "Gimme-gimme-gimme. I want more quarters! Gimme some quarters!" How about "Gimme the trophy?" 
   We need to bully some guys and let them know we were on the field. We need to Dennis Rodman some emotion out of them and get them off their game. They're trained robots. They've been playing pro in farm systems since they were eight-years-old. They're like Eastern European block gymnasts. We need to get in their griddle. 
   We, the American viewership, should be fed up with the announcers saying, (in their British accents) "Oh they're such gentlemen - they take their beatings so well." We need to ruffle some feathers. Remember when the fans at Wimbledon covered their mouthes in shame for mankind when John McEnroe felt the need to speak to his inner self in a language he called soft, level one, anger? That's where we need to be. During the interview process for new players we need to look for the first guy that loses his temper, grab him, and don't let go. "Him! We'll take him! You're on the team!" Let the people in the stands be well behaved, and try to reverse the negative image we have as world travelers. But let the players on the field be as rancid and obnoxious as a Karate Kid Part I casting call that goes by the name of Johnny, Bobby, the blonde-headed nut bag and the rest of the looney band of motorcycle riding teenage bad boys.