Bought from evil empire, since I can legitimately expense those purchases as research for my sports-and-society class.
Narratively, a lot of fun, with amazing stories about how marginal US soccer was for years, including the time someone turned down a chance at coaching the national team because he'd worked his way up to his desired full-time gig, as maitre d' at an SF restaurant, and didn't want to risk that much better job. The US is essentially an international joke until the 1990s, that one fluke win over England in 1950 aside, and then it's alternately doing better and worse than expected, as well as running through coaches. You could absolutely make a droll indie comedy about Jurgen Klinsmann's path to vibe-based coaching of the US national team for a couple of years, during which the team (let's be British) were doing pretty well, and then...weren't. At least US players are getting better, with some eventually becoming starters in top Euro leagues. So it's sort of like the US in soccer is akin to the Dominican Republic in baseball. We end on a questioning note, as Schaerlaeckens notes we've been here before--touted foreign coach is going to bring some essential outside-of-America...something to our national team, to help it make the leap, and maybe this time it will take. The storytelling is lively, and he's talked to scads of people and interviewed, he estimates, 150, so we get insider details about why, say, the 1998 and 2006 teams imploded, as well as a recent scandal I hadn't even clocked involving feuds between multiple generations of US stars and their sons.
Analytically/contextually, I wanted something more. Consider Jonathan Wilson's Anatomy of England, about how British soccer fortunes, and thus those of the nation, are perceived as rising or falling based on a key match. What's the plotline here? I don't think he's quite worked that out. In some sense, this is a defamiliarized story: US as underdog, underestimated by its own coaches at times as well as sneered at by Europeans and South Americans, and playing a brawny, muscular, unsutble style, something maybe more akin to what the 19th-century game was before rugby and association football grew apart than modern soccer. (I remember thinking something like this while watching the US v the Dutch in 2022--the passing was not quite crisp enough to break the Dutch defense.) Which is weird, right, given the US's unquestioned global power.
Is this a story of inefficient resource allocation that we need Malcolm Gladwell to rip off someone else's research to explain, tendentiously? Should the US be doing better than it has? Or is it something where we still have essentially not devoted commensurate resources to success, and so the general mid-ness of US results is entirely predictable in a sport where 92% of club results (as noted in the last edition of Soccernomics) are attributable to payroll? Not to mention the thinness of the developmental pipeline here as compared to Europe's. (Though what's the correlation with World-Cup results, since those teams spend much, much less time practicing? Apparently Transfermarkt ratings are considered a solid proxy for quality for national teams, so maybe we're back at payroll.) Or is avoiding a US-exceptionalist model the answer? Italy has missed the last three World Cups, and England and France both missed in 1994. Wilson's whole book explores 70+years of continuous hysterical reactions whenever England doesn't do well. In other words, could the plotline be, welcome to the rest of the world's experience?
The player biographies interspersed with the team narrative start out strong (Tyler Adams and Ricardo Pepi are both interesting stories, and for Pepi Schaerlaeckens notes FIFA's schizophrenic and anxious relation to the Spanish-speaking presence in the US, such that many national-team home games against Mexico are located in very white, very northern cities to avoid the problem of 3/4 of the stands cheering for the visitors, which also points to the federation's alienation from players from Spanish-speaking households--he smartly notes that the US is gerrymandering a fan base away) and then lose focus, with the chapter on Christian Pulisic, which I assume is in there because he's the most famous member of the team, a particular challenge due to his lack of interest in public speaking. Side notes in other chapters point to this team as Trump's nightmare in particular, with players like Folarin Balogun, who scored two goals in the US opener against Paraguay, born in Brooklyn literally while his parents were visiting and later choosing the US from among a range of countries he could represent, a basic story shared by several teammates. (In that light, a pungent irony is that many of these players chose the US because their route to the starting XI was immediate, rather than being blocked by better, or equally good, players in the other countries they could represent.) We are still a backwater.
So, very much a first-draft-of-history take. Which I enjoyed, though I needed more.