Arena's magic was all smoke and mirrors
Arena's magic was all smoke and mirrors
Jamie Trecker / Fox Soccer Channel
Ex-U.S. men's national team soccer coach Bruce Arena probably owes his international legacy to the best player he never had.
U.S. Soccer in the spotlight
Arena's contract was left unrenewed today by U.S. Soccer after a dismal 2006 World Cup showing that saw his tactics, personality and selections challenged. U.S. Soccer Federation president Sunil Gulati lauded the ex-coach on Friday even as he kicked him out the door by saying Arena was responsible for "giving the sport credibility" and thanked him for making the American team a success.
Common sense says Arena leaves the job much better than he found it. When he arrived on the job in 1998, he took over a badly split team that had finished dead last in the 1998 Cup in France. Eight years later, American soccer is more respectable than ever, isn't it?
No, it isn't, and the phrases that Gulati charitably tried to bestow upon the man he was chopping today ring hollow to any observer who has closely followed this team.
Take attendance, a simple measure of attention: When Arena arrived on the scene, the national team routinely drew 50-60,000 people. As he leaves it today, it draws closer to 30,000.
Bruce Arena could only throw up his hands in despair as the USA went three and out at the World Cup. (Friedemann Vogel/Staff / Getty Images)
Can it be that Arena improved a team yet somehow attracted fewer fans to see this better product?
It is also hard to believe that American sports fans care about the two Gold Cup titles the men won under Arena (in 2002 and 2005) — it's quite clear that for most, these games simply don't exist. They weren't available on English language television unless you were willing to pay for them, and neither Cup win got much in the way of attention outside the soccer community.
No: American fans showed this year they care about success at the World Cup, and before the mythology is allowed to gel, fans should reminded that Arena did not take the team out of the first round in 2002 without some huge help.
A man named Park Ji-Sung did, and he plays for South Korea.
In 2002, on the final day of group play, the USA gained their berth in the second round thanks to the South Korean striker's 70th minute goal against a then 9-man Portugal. At the same time, the USA was busy throwing away their game, 3-1 to Poland, one of the worst sides in the tournament after having opened with a terrific win over Portugal, then escaped with a somewhat fortunate 1-1 draw against the hosts. Don't believe it: Watch that tape again see the South Koreans miss a sitter in the final minutes that would have changed recent American soccer history.
That was, in fact, a very typical American performance under Arena, who produced a squad that was capable of playing mesmerizing soccer one day, then confounding even the most die-hard fans with execrable performances the next. Arena's admittedly impressive 71-30-29 lifetime record is somewhat illusory; it obscures the fact that under Arena, the men were unable to shed their inability to win big matches in Europe or in Mexico City — arguably the places where U.S. soccer still has the most to prove.
While Arena clearly could make players believe they could perform, it was also clear that his bag of tricks was limited, and that he is not any more the psychological master of the game than the oft-derided Bora Milutinovic. Arena believed stridently that he could out-coach any team; Milutinovic was smart enough to realize that the American players were too incompletely developed to grasp tactical play and instead concentrated on putting them in roles where they could shine.
The differences were clear: When Arena got that lucky bounce in 2002, he wore it as if it were armor. And when his luck ran out, he was left to blame others.
To be fair to Arena, the coach walked into a chaotic situation in 1998 and worked hard to give the national team a different feel. His teams played hard the full 90 minutes and completely dominated weak regional opposition when they had poor teams on the run. He produced a team that could travel into Central America (with Mexico the notable exception) and the Caribbean and play its own game.
In addition, Arena's Americans could take on high quality visiting opposition and win at home. Even though the FIFA No. 5 rating was always wildly optimistic, there are few teams in the world who would be guaranteed a victory on United States soil. That's hugely different from even 15 years ago and much of that credit must go to Arena's watch.
But the reason Arena is gone today is because he could not accomplish the one mission left from 2002: He had four years to win important games in Europe to get his team ready for Germany 2006. It never happened. True, the ledger will show lots of wins on American soil — often against opposition far below the highest class — but there are no road victories over Argentina, Brazil, England, France, Holland, Germany, Italy Portugal or Spain to celebrate. Those are the types of nations the U.S. must defeat on the road if it wants true international respect.
Arena, a prickly man who won few fans in the business with his attitude, concealed a deep nervousness and insecurity about these failures with an almost laughable arrogance. That insecurity exploded in Germany this year when he ripped his club after their 3-0 loss to the Czech Republic in a way that made the players' failures seem almost as if they were a deeply personal insult. When the USA lost to Ghana, he blamed the referees, not the fact that his squad had managed just four shots all tournament.
Blame was a constant under Arena. While fiercely protective of his players, everyone else was fair game. Arena did make make some MLS players better during their times at national team camp, but he blamed the American league for all number of failings while doing little to shore up a youth system bled dry.
While he was graced with some solid talent playing abroad, he too often failed to improve them and more often than not, gave nothing back. The players that went over under Arena's watch — Landon Donovan, Cory Gibbs, Tony Sanneh, Clint Mathis — more often than not, came back swiftly.
What Arena's real legacy, however, may be is that he created a situation eerily reminiscent of the one he inherited from Steve Sampson. Whoever takes over as coach must confront a split team with retiring veterans. The advantage Arena had, however, won't likely be around for his successor.
Arena was fortunate enough to have a crop of young, quality players coming through the ranks. Donovan, Beasley and Pablo Mastroeni all blossomed on his watch in 2002 and seemed to foretell a bright future. Yet those same players failed him, badly, in 2006, and there are no replacements on the horizon.
What World Cup 2006 did show was that the American sports public is ready to embrace a national team that can play and beat the best. The media was ready to chronicle the achievement and the television ratings show that people were tuning in. All of that might be enough to lure a big-name coach with the thought that America is no longer a soccer backwater. If you can give credit to Arena for that, then he perhaps deserves the biggest thank you possible.
But it is also true that Gulati's decision to move on was a no-brainer.
In the end, Arena did do all he could. He didn't always perform with grace and a smile, but you cannot fault his effort. Unfortunately, as American fans found out this year, on the field, effort isn't enough.
