US soccer fans left with frankfurters, electric dance music

It was the day a columnist wrote about the U.S. becoming a force in World Cup soccer.

A quadrennial later, I was reminded of having expressed that dubious viewpoint by a German guy sitting in a Volkswagen who suggested that with the U.S. not having qualified for this year’s Cup (because the Yanks couldn’t muster so much as a tie against the juggernaut that is Trinidad and Tobago), we should cheer for Germany. Because it was Germany that gave us the frankfurter.

I also was reminded of that column on Sunday.

With England leading Panama 6-0 — the world football equivalent of 42-0 in American football — this old guy on Panama scored a goal, and Panamonium broke out in the stands and in the streets of Panama City. It was sort of like when the student manager gets into a game and scores a basket, or when Timmy Lupus caught the fly ball in “The Bad News Bears.”

Panama was just happy to be there, mainly because Panama had never been there before. Panama finished two spots ahead of the U.S. men’s national team in the World Cup qualification table, if that tells you anything. Which it should.

The U.S. also finished behind Honduras, for which O. Henry is said to have coined the term “banana republic.”

William Sydney Porter was known for writing short stories with surprise endings. Not even his pen name could have imagined the U.S. soccer team finishing behind Costa Rica, Panama and Honduras, and losing to Trinidad and Tobago, with so much at stake. Such as domestic World Cup television ratings.

Futility revisited

Four years ago, when I sat with Barry Barto in his office, the ability to beat the banana soccer republics never came up. Barto was the men’s soccer coach at UNLV, and he was quite successful. Before that, he was captain of the U.S. men’s national team, which was not as successful. This was during the era when the U.S. went 40 years between World Cups.

Barto recalled a game against Canada in Newfoundland where the balance of the team didn’t show up until halftime because their plane was late.

“The coaches changed every other game,” Barto said. “There wasn’t a true organization from the standpoint of player identification. Many played in the (NASL), many played in the amateur leagues in New York or Chicago or San Francisco. The team was always changing. We really never practiced together.

“We played a game in Mexico City, in Azteca (Stadium). Werner Roth and I were playing side by side. And just before kickoff, he says to me: ‘Who’s No. 8, playing right midfield?’

“That’s just how it was in those days.”

Werner Roth, the former New York Cosmos captain, would land a small part in the movie “Victory.” He played the German captain Baumann, whose penalty kick was saved by Sylvester Stallone, setting off a chain reaction of events that enabled Michael Caine and Pele and a bunch of other soccer-playing prisoners of war to escape.

The national soccer team for which he and Barto played gradually became a force in less dramatic fashion.

Place at the table

The U.S played in every World Cup from 1990 to 2014, seven in a row, and in 2002 the Yanks made it through to the quarterfinals, where they were beaten by Germany.

Four years ago, the U.S. beat Ghana, tied Portugal and lost to Germany again, 1-0, but still qualified for the knockout stage. Tens of thousands watched the taut matches against world soccer powers play out on TV in Chicago’s Grant Park. The optics were impressive and deserving of comment.

Barto was asked if we would see the U.S. win the World Cup during our lifetimes.

He thought about it a minute.

“Depends on how long we live,” he said with a sage smile.

Before Iran played Portugal on Monday, some Belgian guy driving a Passat or a Jetta — and his buddy, Hans — came on TV and suggested with the U.S. not having qualified for this year’s World Cup, that we should cheer for Belgium, because it hosts the world’s largest electronic dance music festival.

I can’t speak for Barry Barto, but my own mortality never seemed more apparent.

Contact Ron Kantowski at rkantowski@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0352. Follow @ronkantowski on Twitter.