A toxic media culture, stoked by podcast-bro vibes of former players, has made the USMNT a suddenly polarizing topic
Everyone has a podcast these days. It's just what you do. Opinions need to be disseminated into the world, and all that matters is . The problem, of course, is that when everyone has a podcast, when everyone is just yelling, no one really listens. So, it just becomes a bit of a race to the bottom.
Only most outlandish opinions stand out. The silliest "takes" tend to win. But what happens if you start to believe your own propaganda? What happens if you say something so angsty that people are forced to listen – and it's so good that you may as well just embody it?
Welcome to the world of soccer punditry, where everyone has a bone to pick, and pretty much no one can offer objective analysis. In fairness, it's the media sphere we live in. Clicks are good. Opinions – even wrong ones – are good. Engagement is everything. The value of saying something intelligent is fading.
This has always been the case in the European game, where former players, in particular, disseminate their perceived injustices into the world. Roy Keane is the grumpy one. Gary Neville is the United apologist. Jamie Carragher is the scouse one. Micah Richards brings the #bantz.
In the United States, though, it's a more recent phenomenon, especially around the current iteration of the men's national team – the old heads taking to their home studios to speak their minds. And with every poor performance, every slip, every showing that falls even slightly short of expectations, the noise grows louder. Podcasts become shoutier, dissenters are dissenting more. A previous generation of footballers, the supposed embodiment of the "good old days" just becomes one ball of anger, dragging nuance out of the game.
GettyThe "old days" mentality
The United States has a curious method for going about the former player vitriol complex. As a nation, the U.S. has never quite been a power in the global game. The calling card of the United States, for so long, was its ability to beat the bigger teams, win the big games, and show the signature "American" fighting spirit.
2-0 win over Mexico at the 2002 World Cup lives long in the American soccer consciousness, not because the team beat their biggest rival – but because it was an upset. Tournament runs are remembered fondly because of the mentality that the U.S. wasn't supposed to be able to do it. Here was a plucky team of giant killers, doing that little bit extra, and outperforming expectations.
That has proved to be a dangerous thing, though. When you continue to overperform, then the expectation of overperformance becomes the norm. A win over Mexico is no longer an upset – it is now the standard. This is something that a previous generation of players helped proliferate.
Tim Howard, Alexi Lalas, Clint Dempsey, Taylor Twellman, Landon Donovan and enumerate others have been guilty of pushing an agenda. Those guys didn't just rely on talent, they relied on "grit" and they still won. This new generation, they insist, should be able to do the same.
"We would not have let Canada or Panama beat us without it being an absolute bloodbath," Donovan told after Mauricio Pochettino's side unexpectedly dropped a pair of games in the CONCACAF Nations League. "I used to hate going into training camps, because I got the sh*t kicked out of me. The competition was real. We had real players who cared about the result and were always, without exception, willing to put themselves on the line to get a result.
"I can’t talk about who was more skilled or talented, but we were always responsible for the result… I’d take those teams over this current one.”
Of course, soccer doesn't work like that. There are complexities. As men's soccer in the U.S. has changed, so too has the quality of other nations. Opponents adapt and evolve. Talent can only get you so far. Other teams won't simply fold because of the way you to play. The other variables – tactics, quality of opponent, stakes, and, yes, showing up – can all affect results on the day.
AdvertisementGetty Images SportPrivilege of the new generation
Of course, the new generation knows this. They are trying to win football matches. But they are often criticized by virtue of being "next up." The guys before them laid the groundwork. It is now on them to build on it.
And it's easy to see why that might frustrate the former players. Part of the issue is that this new generation of American talent has a platform that the old heads were never afforded. Donovan, Howard and those of a previous era existed slightly outside of the national spotlight. Soccer wasn't as popular, culturally, then. It was a hipster thing that occasionally popped into the mainstream during tournaments.
These new guys, meanwhile, have commercial profiles, and pop up in the nationwide sporting discourse. Average, everyday people have heard of Christian Pulisic, who even launched a docuseries to enhance his personal brand. FIFA, the video game, has helped proliferate soccer to a broader audience. The appointment of a higher profile manager in Pochettino and unparalleled investment into the program has seen the landscape change entirely.
The older generation did a lot with a little. These new guys – Pulisic, Gio Reyna, Tyler Adams, Weston McKennie – have been given more, and are seemingly doing less.
Howard summed it up after the loss to Panama in that Nations League semifinal, pontificating about a team that previously crashed out of the 2024 Copa America, which led to the firing of Gregg Berhalter.
“This group of players got a manager sacked, lost in the last four to Panama and have had an abysmal showing in the Nations League – abysmal. To finish fourth is a crime. And by the way, any of the current players get upset with me, I’ve gotten coaches sacked as well. I’ve been a part of groups where you don’t perform well enough, the team doesn’t perform well enough and you get your coaches sacked and it sucks."
Of course, he said that on his podcast – there it is – with Donovan.
And in some ways, they have a point. This new generation is far more talented, has been trained at top academies and is now being led by a manager who won a Ligue 1 title and coached Lionel Messi. These are all good things, worlds removed from the mid-level European talent the older generation played with.
But despite all of that, they can only do so much. This may be a more talented generation, but it is also a radically different landscape. The old heads were physical, athletic and dogged. This generation is more technical. They are better footballers, and try to play like it. There isn't really a streamlined U.S. soccer identity. These guys are playing the game in their way – and being lambasted for it when it goes wrong.
Simply reverting back to the "good old days" is a talking point, but not a solution.
AFPLowest common denominators
The problem is, nuance isn't rewarded anymore. There's so much stuff floating around that only aggravating takes cut through. Everything is content, clipped down, chopped up, headlined and blasted out on social media. This is where media is nowadays.
There isn't merit in measured analysis, or begrudging acceptance. Lalas would be less relevant if he admitted that Pochettino had a rough couple of windows, but, hey, there are some promising signs to be found. No one would listen to Donovan if he conceded that it's probably a little unfair to cast final judgement on this iteration of the USMNT, considering it has never had a full strength squad together. Bruce Arena wouldn't be as newsworthy if he suggested that tactics, not a lack of effort, undid the team against Panama and Canada.
Instead, it's a question of buzzwords and anger. Losses are "crimes." The real issues are "pride" and "culture." Breaking down the nuances of a 4-3-3 system that didn't quite work isn't as buzzworthy. This Lalas quote, spat out after the CONCACAF Nations League losses, though, is:
"But also the real question is to whether these players care? And care when they step on the field to represent what I feel is the greatest country in the world? And I think that that conversation is going to continue."
And so the discourse gets dragged down. "Rage bait" becomes the currency, while sincere analysis is a mere commodity.
Getty Images SportThe fan problem
This isn't unique to the United States, of course. It happens all over the world. Spain, France, and – yes – England, are pretty good at triggering people, too. But it does work well in America. One of the most telling moments of the USMNT's recent disappointments came during the third-place match loss to Canada. Paramount+, which covered the game, assembled a panel of U.S. legends at a pitchside desk. Chief among them was Dempsey, who picked up on the vitriol of U.S. fans.
"As we were sitting here, I had some of the [fans] sitting there, shouting to me 'Get them right, say something' and I said 'Hey y'all let them know, let them know what's going on,'" he said.
American exceptionalism, in particular, is easily capitalized on. This is a nation that likes to win things, and even when it doesn't win things, at least likes to believe it can. That is perhaps part of the reason why those early U.S. teams appealed so much. They were, in so many ways, so stereotypically American.
These ideals of "hard work", "grit", "scrappiness", and "pride" cut deep into the national consciousness. These are founding principles of the country, soccer as capitalism, 1776 reimagined as a 4-4-2 with Landon Donovan as a hardworking wide midfielder. Pull yourself up by your bootstraps, guys, and heroically lose 2-1 to Belgium.
It's what made fans fall in love with the men's national team in the first place. Losing 1-0 to Panama in games that don't matter? Boring. Defeats that end World Cup runs in a game where you are totally outplayed by a superior opponent and just about stick around due to one of the great goalkeeping performances? Make a movie about it.
Supporters like to see a team that looks like it cares. Not as good as your opponent? Try harder and you might just come away with something. Adams, a fixture of the USMNT for the last five years, gets it.
"The way that we’ve played and the way that we competed, 100 percent it looks like we don’t care. I mean how do we go out in some of these games and not have the attitude to be ready to compete? We need to show that mindset, show that we care and show the character that we have and who cares about the football anymore? Show that we want to be there and want to compete," he told .
Donovan, too, has latched onto that storyline. His post-match breakdown of a duo of USMNT losses in March offered insight into the nuances of the performance – an expert critique of what, exactly had happened on the pitch:
"There were just too many guys out there who were just going through the motions. When I watch games, sometimes it’s difficult to accurately judge someone’s ‘desire.’ But you also just see what your eyes tell you. It was obvious in these games who cared,” he said.
It has even proliferated to other nations. When asked what, exactly, he had brought to the Canadian national team, U.S.-born manager Jesse Marsch told GOALhe had "pushed some American ideals" on the team. That competitive edge, he insists – and not the fact that Canada is blessed with its best wave of talent in its footballing history – has made Les Rouges better.