Sunday was far from an ideal afternoon for American soccer fans.
A nation nervously eager for the chance to exorcise the demons of Qualifiers past, the USA appeared suffocatingly impotent in the face of a Canada side—who, no less, was missing their most prominent Bavarian protagonist.
We’ll get into the tactics shortly—since, despite the otherwise unconvincing encounter, there were some compelling points to take away from all this. But first, some thoughts regarding the big red panic button everyone’s been pressing these last two days. Let’s chat for just a second.
A Brief Word Against Upheaval
For many, this lump-in-your-throat result was a quietening surprise. The loss comes after a year or two of carefully earned optimism for the red, white, and blue—marked by a steady uptick in re-converted support following the profound weight of post-Trinidadian self reflection.
Moreover, the frosty defeat served as a sobering condemnation of the ostensible progress attained by a player pool whose stars many are still trying to let themselves fully fall in love with.
The likes of Brenden and Yunus, Antonee and Tyler, Ricardo and Weston, (and plenty more) have all given us an engaging collection of fallible, but strongly endearing, rising talents to root for. Besides their charisma, the kids are all finally playing in Europe, which we mustn’t forget, is a pipe dream that few could have anticipated a mere cycle ago. The redemption arc, it seems, would be sweetest if it was achieved by an authentically new generation, and this, we all hoped, would be it.
Yet, despite the childlike innocence of Matt Turner’s piercing blue gaze or the stoic swagger flooding from the letters beneath Christian Pulisic’s jersey, we’re .. somehow .. still left still holding onto something uncertain.
It’s no secret that this stumbling block comes at the worst of times, in which it suddenly feels as though another burgeoning soccer nation—freed of the expectative shackles that seem to cage the Americans when it matters most—has eclipsed our progress. Need it be that way? No. But it sure does leave us fiddling around with that sinking feeling. The US has never been comfortable with others catching up to them.
Now, is it time to ring the alarm bells? Also, no.
My friends, we’re in the midst of a quintessential availability cascade. For a little while, the voices chastising Gregg for his sideline antics will be amplified, the affect heuristic will lead our emotions to take the wheel over reason, and our incessant tendency to cling to negativity will ratchet up the temperature like clockwork. Hindsight and confirmation bias will fire up our senses of indignation, as more people will continue to remind their followers that the choice to start Gyasi over Ricardo was inane, or that they would’ve obviously done something else differently. These spheres of communication, as insignificant and insulated as we may deem them to be, will be successful in relieving those items from our burdened chests, but the vitriol will also inevitably reach the kids exerting everything for our own pride and enjoyment.
It’s a very systematic thing in modern football. This culture of outrage and disgust following short-term dips is the very thing that most inhibits progress. A teaspoon of interest-based reasoning might indicate that—oh that’s right—there’s still another 3 points on the table, just (at the time of writing) a few hours away. Our best reaction, seeing as the result up in Hamilton is forever sealed into our past, would be the one that most directly contributes to the next positive outcome. Yet, in this cauldron of instant gratification, fear mongering proves to be easiest.
Are the US out after all this? No. Far from it. It’s a loss. It feels shitty. Let’s wield it, and move forward. Keep the eyes locked on Doha.
If we take one further step back, we may find even more peace.
While the news cycle indulges in what they’ll frame as this monumental hiccup, we’re ultimately looking at a good thing, here, for the future of North American competition. American fans, understandably, and because of past traumas, have fixated on qualification as the ultimate prize. But that’s not really the point, is it?
A humbling by a hungrier competitor is something the CONCACAF region could use more of. What’s the joy in making the tournament if we trample countries the size of Delaware and backflip our way to the corner flags in Qatar? If this US team ever dreams of genuine success at a World Cup, they’ll not only need to digest this effete performance and return both insulted and invigorated, but I sincerely hope it’ll be the first of many authentic challenges along a much more rewarding journey.
The fact that this Canadian uprising is being staged at the same time that the US stakes are highest is honestly a fantastic outcome. It forces us to rise, even more so, to the occasion. Game on, baby. If we (and by “we” I mean both the team and the fanbase) shirk the realities uncovered by our toughest rivals, then it’s best we quit pretending we’re in it for the long haul. If all we demand are these delusional 9-point windows, we’ll continue to be surprised by those that are in it solely to spoil them. And in the face of defeat, we cannot allow this violently pent-up angst to sully the broader trajectory towards 2026, let alone a transformed, American footballing culture for generations to come.
Alright, that’s enough of that. I’m climbing down from my soap box. I hope you aren’t too offended by my “calma, calma”. Let’s talk, now, about what actually happened on the pitch.
Setting the Table With Ferrous Silverware
Right off the bat, let me just say, I thought this game was ugly.
Admittedly, that’s probably not my most captivating intro line to an analysis, but that’s the honest truth. Plenty have dwelled on the Americans’ lack of inventiveness in the final third, the futility of our set piece efforts, and dearth of a commanding strike presence to anchor the group, all of which are entirely viable—but I won’t add onto that mound of disapproval.
Just know that it was pretty unremarkable on both sides of the ball.
Canada spent much of the game absorbing pressure, diverting the USA’s blithe efforts wide and seemingly into sideline eddies that spun the ball around a few times before eventually trickling out of bounds. Often, upon winning the ball, their counterattacking efforts were stifled. A vast portion of the match was hectically played in transition, one perfunctory decision after another, leading neither team to fully display a precise advantage.
That said, Canada did do one thing really right. They understood how to manipulate their opponent when it mattered. Chances were few and far between, many of which bobbled astray (recall, it was still pretty ugly), but when we look closely, we can find that this is the single consistent thread tying nearly all of their attacks together.
“Magnetism”, this notion that we’ve discussed on Touchline Theory before, refers to the tendency that objects of value have to attract enemies. We’ve discussed it through the lens of “pinning”, a mechanism by which a threat positions themselves so as to occupy the attention of a certain opponent, and pull them into a space of their choosing. This effect can feel like magic, but its rudiments are baked so deeply into this sport that it can be applied in countless clever situations. Canada took this, and ran with it.
We’ll also use pinning to our advantage in the 3-2-5. This concept comes from the suggestion that players tend to have a gravitational effect on others, when taking up positions in close proximity to them. Decoy runs work because they suck a defender into a certain space to guard a presumable threat, yanking them out of position like a positive pole might do to a negatively charged one, and opening up true opportunity beyond them. A striker that hangs goalside of the defense and makes runs in behind will gradually unsettle the CBs, and incentivize a lower offside line so the CBs can better see his movement. As such, he’ll tug the opponent using his “gravitational pull”. If wingers have chalk on their boots, the opposing fullbacks will be hesitant to stay tucked inside, for fear that they’ll be too exposed in the channels. Thus, they too will be drawn into the width to cover. This is a fundamental idea that we can exploit across the board, especially when looking to maintain our numerical superiorities through build-up, and avoid the opposition from condensing our space too much. We use the notion of magnetism to draw the defense into certain regions, spreading them out, and granting us more room to work with.
It all Starts with Hopping the Fence: How to Disrupt a 4-4-2 with a 3-2-5
Canada’s entire approach could be summed up in three simple steps: relieve pressure via an escape ball to a high target, support from underneath, and attack the gap left by the magnetized defender. Here’s your textbook example, many more of which you’ll witness soon.
It’s really just the basics of up-back-and-throughs. No carefully outlined automatisms, no intricate throw-in plays, nothing. Just find your man, help him, and penetrate.
When you break a complex game down into unembellished fundamentals like these, you save the players’ cognitive ability for actually deciphering challenging moments. While the USMNT staff sought to arrange their comparatively more intricate (albeit painfully half-baked) plan, Occam’s Razor must have been on John Herdman’s mind, instead. Hats off to him.
So cool, with that on the table, let’s hop into the video room, shall we?
The Story Through Moments
For much of the first half, Canada’s attempts to displace the US backline by 1. finding a central striker, 2. immediately playing diagonally negative, and 3. converging towards the vacuum, were largely interrupted by rusty technique. Yet, from as early as the 2nd minute alone, their gameplan was evident. Below, Mark-Anthony Kaye fires a ball between the lines to Jonathan David, receiving in the halfspace and on the half turn. The Lille #9, an object of obvious value, baits Miles Robinson to step. The CB makes a strong tackle before Cyle Larin can be used as a wall-pass springboard in behind—but JD still looks to attack that space post-ricochet. Dest intercepts, but the precedent is already palpable.
Just minutes later, the initial shock arrives. Turner delivers a peculiar ball into no-man’s land and—be it the outfield’s fault for their wretched interspacing or the purported target’s responsibility to challenge more effectively—the wayward launch is won by an assertive Kamal Miller. Flicked by Toronto’s Osorio into Larin’s feet, this time, the 1-2 is executed. Tyler Adams is caught in between threats, while Robinson and Richards’ initially deep position has caused them to accelerate in order to recover the offside line, and thereby make their momentum all the more difficult to reverse. Miles steps even harder this time, and he’s punished. Advantage Maple kids.
Here, we can suffer through another angle, but find the composure to appreciate the directness of Canada’s approach. You don’t need a football PhD to recognize that they’ve drawn one defender out (yes, with the help of an awfully coordinated set piece), and simply knocked it around them. It need not be more complicated than that.
Now, as the narrative goes, the US were comparatively .. less willing .. to use the same tricks against the Hamiltonians.
While others have complained about Pulisic’s dwindling influence in the side, or his pusillanimous corner kick deliveries, I’m going to break my own promise regarding dogpiling and momentarily castigate him for absorbing too much of the ball with his back to goal. Several instances occurred in which, rather than playing the way he was facing, releasing the ball to an option underneath, and springing into the space—he controlled it with what I can only imagine was a “stank face” as he sought to unblushingly combat the tide of his publicly shrinking boss-status. There is no question that Puli has the superfluous talent to be the main man, but acting like Neymar with your sole on the ball and your palm outstretched against the rabid defender only works if they don’t simply clatter into you. Keep things moving dude.
In the instance above, Adams is positioned perfectly for an immediate 1-touch re-route centrally. Pulisic’s gravity (another term for magnetism) yanks three whole Canadians into his orbit. People are scared of him.
Yet, the necessary inversion that simply hasn’t been realized is that when this fear is so obvious in the boot-quaking opposition, we should use the US #10 not as an authentic progressive pathway, but as a decoy to pry open the defense. The ball played in by Richards certainly doesn’t need to be lofted to make things more difficult—but had Canada executed the move, Tyler would’ve received and likely found Brenden in acres of central space, soon after. Puli may have had the wherewithal to spin and cut in behind the converging Canadefenders to combine, too.
Coulda, shoulda, woulda, I suppose, but something like this would’ve been nice.
In minute 13, we see one of those aforementioned, feebler albeit revealing, attempts. Milan Borjan punches a dinger into Larin, dropping to receive. Richards is tight on his back, as was likely instructed to prevent the striker from turning and simply waltzing across the halfway line, but his intensity is nearly penalized by the same damn mechanism. Cyle finds Richie Laryea out wide, but the touches are just a tad too bouncy to get firmly under control. The ball ends up going the other way, but notably, we observe an American CB drawn high again—this time, with the neighboring fullback at an even more elevated altitude, rather than covering in behind.
You might recall how Tuchel deployed Rudiger and Azpilicueta in the Champion’s League Final against City, as cagefighters that would relentlessly barrage into the backs of Pep’s halfspace artists, preventing any sort of comfortable progression—but this only worked because of a brilliantly coordinated 5-back that strategically collapsed behind piston-like pressures. The choreography left no gaps, even when centerbacks lumbered all the way forward. That nuance was nowhere to be seen here. As such, there exists enough room to buy and rent out a four bedroom flat behind Antonee and Chris. With some tidier ball caressing, Canada would’ve likely planted their flag. It’s a worrying trend that’s started to rear its ugly head.
This next clip is admittedly less salient, but Jonathan David’s manhandling of Miles Robinson is a subtle insult that gets our head shaking once again, early in the match. There’s not much more to it than that: here’s a guy half your size that simply wants that ball more than you do. These teeny anecdotes of physical altercation can often paint the picture of a game’s trajectory. The US #12 is already rattled, so hey, let’s rattle him some more.
Fast forward to minute 20, a throw-in showcases Canada’s very quiet manipulation once more. Larin drops in to receive, Adams firmly prevents forward progression, Cyle gets it off his foot fast, negative, and at an angle, MAK switches with speed, and Laryea wastes no time in playing (as the announcer astutely observes) “that space behind the fullback”. Up, back, and through. Adams isn’t necessarily at fault here either, it’s simply the lethargy with which the USA reacts and allocates resources laterally that leads JD into an iso situation with Richards in the channel.
All things considered, Richards does well to delay the attack, in this case. The threat is neutralized with some careful persistence and back pressing by his recovering LB, but the ensuing foul is indicative of some lost nerve. Chris’ unflinching plow into David is soccer speak for “quit making me uncomfortable, bro”. We’ve all done it. We all know what it means. Canada can feel the inquietude.
Here’s the original sequence, again.
Next up, we see Puli thrust into a similar situation as before. Bursting from deep, Adams dips and dodges a few outstretched legs, eventually releasing the ball just before Alistair Johnston collides into him. It falls to Christian, who, in his efforts to catalyze the attack, tries to deftly turn Steven Vitória who he’s scanned and noticed behind him. It’s not a bad idea, no—but with a bit of added structure, our most injury prone starlet doesn’t need to get chopped down like some irrelevant tree, either.
Aaronson anticipates the final ball, which is both perceptive and appropriate, but what’s missing is that negative pingback to find him more fluidly than with the blindside turn. Maybe Gyasi fills that void? Ideally it’s Weston or Yunus getting out of their own box a bit more quickly to support and play that final ball. In any case, the foul is drawn, yes, as is the yellow, but a highly chaotic moment for the Northern neighbors goes criminally unpunished.
The US proceeds with one of their more creative, believe it or not, efforts to break down the block—but they come up short. MAK intercepts and immediately delivers an escape ball to Larin, dropping once again. Miles Robinson is tight as can be, meaning that he’s been dragged all the way down to nearly 3/4ths of the field length. Uh oh!
As we might expect, a sprightly Buchanan knows his role and quickly offers help from down under. After the package has been 1-touch dropped off at his doorstep, he pings it wide to Adekugbe who drives forward and ultimately fires a lofted ball of reasonable quality into the box. Pulling the USMNT defenders every which way is the algorithm in use.
A few short moments later, in an instance of no terrible consequence, we note Larin’s consistency in his planetary target role again. A ball is hit over the midfield into him, and while Richards unassertively motions for Musah to backpress (when Yunus actually appears to be predicting the inevitable next move by positioning to intercept the negative return pass), Cyle wastes no time in simply playing around the Valencia midfielder to his supportive friend Richie. Thanks Richie. The sharpness is still not perfect, and because neither CB stepped, there’s no direct avenue in behind, but it’s still a bread and butter business on display.
Minute 37 and we see another. Borjan knocks one into Larin, who’s drawn two USMNT fellas into his sphere of influence before, this time, actually playing diagonally forward via noggin nod. Disappointingly, neither Adams nor Musah challenge for the aerial, leaving them both scrambling when the ball is inexorably passed right over them. JD receives, composes himself for a .. yes, you guessed it, negative diagonal reroute, leading the ball to eventually find the opposite corner via the collapsing of localized pressure and baiting of American players.
We might also notice that Antonee, once again, compromises his position in this clip. As JD controls the ball, the LB hesitates as to whether he should leap or stay. Having wasted valuable seconds vacillating, he decides to press the negative ball into Johnston like a puppy blindly chasing a tennis ball.
People. Pulisic should really take that one.
We’re right to question Antonee’s depth perception a bit, as the pass is almost comically high and out of reach, planting him firmly in no-man’s land when he decides to go for it anyways. He gets stuck in the middle, the Canadian RB adeptly recognizes the mis-positioning, and once again the USA is passed over.
Richards makes the somewhat uncomfortable adjustment, but we can tell from the exasperated “aargh” picked up by the sideline mics that Canada were awfully close to slicing right through the US.
Just before the half, we get one of our more delicious snippets. Kaye breaks up another soft USMNT ball into the middle, and instantly knows to find JD as the immediate outlet North of him. As Musah beelines from the left and Tyler is caught in between minds, David turns rightward and finds Tajon high once more. Buchanan has sucked Sergiño into his mystifying control now, and pokes the ball centrally to Larin. There’s so much room to work with that the ball seemingly comes as a surprise to Cyle, but his readiness enables him to collect it before any of the CBs pounce or midfielders recover. Richards knows he won’t get there, but he’s mentally programmed and presses from behind by default. The Hoffenheim defender is tugged out of position, the negative ball finds MAK, who then plays it forward into Chris’ recently-departed empty space—now occupied by Tajon who’s continued his run since he circumvented Dest. It’s lovely, and a final statement of intent before the locker room.
Returning from the boot room, McKennie plays that same slow pass right to the box’s corner, a boon that Vitória calmly accepts. The ever-involved Jonathan David adapts to the sideline situation and offers a release up the line. The move is booked, leaving Adams stuck somewhere inbetween climbing over JD’s back and sitting off entirely. The non-committal approach grants Kaye ample time to receive at the negative angle, and eventually find his #20 once again, higher up the flank.
This is the exact same pattern over and over and over. Worryingly, the US don’t appear to look any closer to cracking it. Perhaps even more cause for concern, they don’t look to be trying different solutions either. It’s the identical “baiting into intermediate positions” every single time. Typically in soccer, you either go, or don’t go. This is a consistent show of neither.
Seconds later, after one of Weston’s many, futile long throw-ins, the ball spurts loose to JD who, this time, simply busts through the opposition on the dribble. The thing to observe, here is the US’ lack of conviction to simply kill the play like Vitória did so consistently with Pulisic.
David is one of Europe’s finest young attackers, and we’re brushing up on him (first Miles, then Tyler, then Sergiño) with these bizarre nudges like we’re playing a game of playground tag. Truck the guy for once. You saw, first hand, how frustrated Christian was when it happened to him. But no, once again, the Americans don’t seem to capture the ideas prominently on display at the opposite end of the pitch, and try to reinvent the wheel instead. That outlook leads to very minimal defensive resistance.
In minute 59, the USMNT loses the ball at the box corner again, while sub Liam Fraser proceeds to pass it into a dropping JD. Musah is neither on him, nor covering in behind, so Tajon is easily found for the reroute. Adams cleans up well, but we witness the makings of the same old solution.
Another throw-in, another quintessential example. Johnston intercepts and heads to David. Rather than trying to collect it, or flick it somewhere he can’t see, the Lille striker plays negative to Osorio with Tyler engaged in the challenge from behind. After an initially scuffed clearance, Mr. Toronto takes one meditative breath and chooses to play Cycle as a dropping target, instead of just thumping it. Post-aerial duel, JD’s hit the ground running and is ready to receive the layoff.
His touch disappoints him, as Adams recovers, but the blueprint remains the same.
As the ball switches hands, Tyler tries to play Gyasi who’s hiding in Fraser’s cover shadow. The miscommunication is so evident, and the striker’s reactions are so painfully slow, that the interception is made even before Zardes turns away to ostensibly run in behind—suggesting that even if he would’ve been found in the gap, the ball would’ve likely popped off his heels. In any case, possession is carelessly given back right away.
From here, JD accepts his gift as Adams exclaims for his teammates to clean up his mess, but no one truly does. Both Robinsons and Chris Richards float around in the same circumspect, 5-meter radius, while Dest keeps everyone onside in behind. David strikes a lovely ball to Buchanan, who shamefully drags his feet before playing a mishit shot/pass to Cyle later on.
As possession recirculates, Richards wins a header that drops to Gyasi coming short (yay!). Weston takes a glance ahead and notices the potential for, you guessed it, an up-back and through, with him as link-up component number three. Pulisic is high, already dipping into the pocket to receive and eventually lay it off to the Juve kid to penetrate in behind. This is all really exciting, until Zardes pummels the ball high and wide, out of bounds, for no apparent reason (not yay). Weston and Christian are visibly displeased, as they should be.
Outlining what could have been:
Some Borjan Ball in minute 62 proposes an additional instance of US players being magically dislocated by the Canadians. Adekugbe is played wide, leading Musah to step. JD is in that open pocket again, allowing him to receive and turn. Dest, just like Antonee a few moments prior, accelerates towards him with no apparent regard for the pointlessness of his initiative. David is so far ahead, and perhaps so open due to Sergiño’s previous absent mindedness, but it’s too late to grab hold of him now. Despite all of that, he leaps, and Adekugbe is easily punched through the open space behind him.
Observe how delighted JD is when he sees that, despite being miles away, Dest is still biting the bait.
Magnetism at it’s finest. It almost doesn’t even make sense how easy this is.
A short while later, we actually see the first exciting conceptual steal from the Americans. Turner pumps one long, Gyasi drops in to receive (yay!), he gets bulldozed (not yay), but the return ball actually finds Musah instead of skyrocketing towards Gregg. Yunus keeps the thing moving 1-touch into Puli. The Chelsea winger doesn’t quite get on the end of it, but a softer interception by Johnston leaves the pass bouncing into Brenden’s feet (yay!!). It’s effectively as if another UB&T had been played, so we’ll count it. In loads of space to run with, Aaronson carries the ball all the way to the box, before he realizes that none of his buddies are within earshot of helping him. Four Ontario Obstructors coalesce, and the opportunity is nipped in the bud.
Yet, for the first time, we see how effective borrowing Canada’s ideas could have been for the USMNT. It’s a shame they didn’t think to do it earlier. Or again, I suppose.
The subsequent 30 minutes is a collection of fouling, gamesmanship, a few Arriola bikes, and other dark arts. Nothing super interesting happens until the final play of the game, in the 95th.
Here, Kellyn Acosta punts the ball into Adekugbe’s zone, who easily retrieves it and plays Junior Hoilett. The CAN #10 fools around for a bit, allowing Reggie Cannon to be duped into pressing him from behind. The negative pass eventually makes its way to Miller who bombs it on the volley up to Adekugbe, who of course, had continued his run past his initial involvement in the link-up chain. The Davies sub controls it while Dest confusedly outstretches his arm like a bird trying to fly the hell away from Canada, leaving Miles stuck marking two. Canada’s LB explodes forward, cuts across the US #12 and seals the deal with a powerful finish. What a way to end it.
For the thousandth time, after nearly 90 minutes of trying the same exact idea, Canada’s spellbinding magnetism works its charm. Their reward? A 4-point cushion atop CONCACAF.
Purification of the Message
Let’s recap the important points from all this.
To start, Canada had one simple plan. They did it over and over, causing imbalances and discomfort, until it worked. The US had no cogent method to stop it, nor did they try the idea themselves, all too much. When they did, it was almost brilliant, but the new Kings of CONCACAF reigned supreme.
The fundamentals of Canada’s approach involved a consistent presence in the middle, coming short to invite defenses high every single instance in which a ball was won. This player was found time and time again, but they weren’t alone, nor did they try to be a hero and take on the entirety of the defensive line. Hamilton’s very own made sure to anticipate not only the escape ball, but the necessary re-orientation beneath them, in order to vertically zigzag, first time. Our football’s interpretation of the hook and ladder plucked a US fellow out of his rank, enabling peripheral threats that didn’t drop to initially receive, to dart in behind. Unfailingly, the man that served as the release valve would spin and sprint with zero hesitation after their negative angle pass was played off, too. This subtle eagerness generated opportunities for third man combos higher up the field, and perpetually left the pressing defenders in the dust. This athletic initiative earned the home team with plenty of fast-paced superiority situations, which The States were repeatedly ill-equipped to handle.
The rest is history.
Final Thoughts
Heading into tonight’s matchup against Honduras, let’s all take a deep breath. Everything will likely look very different. Assuming the Americans’ feet don’t crunch right off every time they strike the ball in these abhorrently frigid temperatures, I fully expect them to take out their frustration on the already eliminated Caribbean nation. That being said, this Canada disappointment will be critical to look back on and reassess.
Teams with greater sophistication than Canada will have far more fine-tuned methods for tearing apart the USMNT. These are the sides we so desperately clamor to play on the world’s stage. If a mere understanding of magnetism suffices to trounce the Americans, things don’t look too hot for us down the line.
Yet, it’s important to note how much time we have to work with. This loss feels like it’s slammed the brakes on what could’ve been a runaway train, but it’s better to suffer that blow in January than in October. Improved coordination between the mids and centerbacks regarding who should handle these escape ball focal points that appear in between them, a better usage of wingers in the press (Aaronson and Puli were rarely featured when we discussed Canada’s progressive tactics because they were often drawn outward, where the team in black has little interest in playing), and an extra dose of both reactiveness and intensity will all go a long way.
We’d also be well advised to refine our understanding of when to press the ball from deep, and when not to. It seemed as though the defensive instructions were to never let anyone turn, but most of the times Canada received the ball and did so, they stumbled when confronting the USA head on. JD and Tajon had one or two neat runs each, but the match was chock full of moments where the US was unable to press in time, the Canadians spun, dribbled, and lost. Somehow, when the Americans were unable to execute their defensive gameplan, things tended to work out in their favor.
This refers to those no-man’s land moments for the fullbacks, too. There is absolutely no need to charge forward 20 meters to close down an opposing on-ball RB or LB, when you’ve got wingers running in behind, and shaky support to take care of them. Perhaps this is where Puli and Aaronson can be of stronger use, too—being quicker to respond and close down ball-playing threats—but we certainly must be more cognizant of this dog and tennis ball effect in the channels.
Everyone’s all about pressing like animals these days, but it’s critical to understand why you’re doing that, and when to break the rules, or even reconsider the framework entirely. Just because someone isn’t being “pressured” doesn’t mean they must be. Stay linked with your backline, and handle whatever rocket comes sailing your way, together. Don’t just delete yourself from the play entirely.
With every stinging loss comes the opportunity to improve. I can only hope the US spirits haven’t been deflated completely after Sunday, seeing as there’s still plenty of work to be done, tonight. This match was a necessary spoonful of humility for a group that has much bigger things coming in the horizon. It hurts right now, as the anxieties are coming to a boil, but I have no doubt that success is on its way.
We will qualify, and we will be better for it. Cheers to Canada for raising the level of CONCACAF this weekend. Now let’s join them in setting the standard. Bundle up in Saint Paul, folks.
’til next time.
