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Concacaf tradition, but the young U.S. team still didn’t
seem ready. Unsettled by the commotion, they struggled
to connect passes against El Salvador’s frenetic press and
never settled into the match.
The other lasting image from that 0–0 tie against the
world’s 64th-ranked team was Gio Reyna, the 18-year-old
American winger, f linching at the corner f lag as riot cops
shielded him from projectiles. The son of the decorated
former U.S. captain Claudio Reyna, Gio was raised on
the pristine fields of New York City FC’s academy before
heading off to German giant Borussia Dortmund. He
came of age in a different sort of crucible.
Every four years, U.S. players and fans are reminded
that World Cup qualifying is a different sort of ball game.
And every four years, it still confounds and surprises. In
2017, a poorly coached U.S. side caught between genera-
tions learned a hard and humiliating lesson: The region’s
idiosyncrasies level the playing field. Four years later
manager Gregg Berhalter was hoping his young charges
would find their footing much quicker. That first three-
game, weeklong gantlet, which began at the Cuscátlan,
was a crash course in Concacaf.
As Berhalter, who experienced two qualifying cycles
as a player, explains, “You know growing up when yourparents tell you, ‘Listen, this is what it’s going to be like.
Don’t do this because we know this isn’t good for you.
Be careful with that because we know you can get hurt.’
And what do kids do? They do it anyway.
“You’ve got to experience it for yourself. No matter how
much we talked about what qualifying was going to be
like, that first window, it was a shock to the guys.”
Berhalter is 48, and most of his players are young enough
to be his sons. That crash course was vital for a group with
more pedigree and potential, but less World Cup experi-
ence, than any squad the U.S. has fielded. Most play in
Europe, and many—such as UEFA Champions League
winner Christian Pulisic of Chelsea—have already lifted
trophies for some of soccer’s biggest clubs. But there’s no
shortcut to seasoning. More than half the squads at the
2018 World Cup, for example, averaged older than 28. Just
one, Nigeria, was younger than 26. But in 11 qualifiers so
far, Berhalter’s starting lineup has averaged under 24 an
astonishing eight times. He’s essentially trying to take a
U-23 Olympic team to the World Cup, and it’s working.
The Americans are 6-2-3 and in second place ahead oflate March’s three-match climax. The top three finishers
in Concacaf ’s eight-team round robin will book passage
to the Qatar World Cup. A fourth will head to a playoff.
“It’s just always a treat to see these guys get the experi-
ence after every window and every single game, and to
see this group grow,” Berhalter says.
As they learned about negotiating and surviving their
notoriously convoluted region, this young U.S. team helped
reshape it. The Yanks had already beaten a more veteran
Mexican side in two tournament finals, but both summer
games were nail-biters. A dominant U.S. performance in
November’s qualifier in Cincinnati felt like the real turning
of the tide. saluden al nuevo gigante, blared the
front page of Mexico’s Récord the next morning. Greet the
New Giant. El Tri goalkeeper Guillermo Ochoa, 36, had
said before the game that Mexico, the region’s traditional
power, remained the U.S. team’s reference point. “Mexico
has been that mirror in which they want to see themselves
and ref lect,” he boasted.
Pulisic’s retort was iconic. After scoring the opening
goal of a 2–0 win that wasn’t as close as the score, he liftedCanada is now a soccer nation, well
in advance of the World Cup it is
cohosting with the U.S. and Mexico.
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