The Boys of Soccer

By RICHARD CORLISS

THREE REASONS SOCCER IS NOT YET A U.S. OBSESSION:

1. Not goal-oriented. Guys run around on a field, bump into each other, run elsewhere. It's Pamplona without the bulls. And could somebody please learn how to score?

2. Not telegenic. Every successful American team sport is now made-for-TV (plenty of close-ups, replays and time-outs). Soccer isn't. The last-row aerial shots of the huge field make the action look like an infested picnic viewed from a helicopter.

3. Not ours, not interested. Let the rest of the world play this game (and call it football). Let big companies sign up to promote the sport -- and lots of cars and cameras. Let those foreigners throw their World Cup party in our backyard. We'll stay inside and watch Ken Griffey Jr. hit home runs.

And now, three reasons the sport may soon become an American obsession:

U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.!

Fevers are building, temperatures rising. Last week, before 93,194 fans at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, California, the unsung U.S. soccer team defeated mighty but flighty Colombia, 2-1. It was the Americans' first Cup victory since 1950, when a lineup of inspired nobodies stunned the powerhouse English squad, 1-0, in one of the sport's most notorious upsets. The victory over Colombia (following a tense tie with Switzerland) nearly ensures that the U.S. will advance to the second of five rounds in the 24-team bash. It also drew praise for the upstart Yanks from a skeptical world press; London's Daily Telegraph dubbed them "Team Miracle." Naturally, the spokesman for the U.S. eleven, Dean Linke, is even more enthusiastic: "We really are America's Dream Team of soccer."

$ For the players, this glimpse of glory is a dream come true. "It's been such a long road getting here," said Michigan-born Alexi Lalas, who sings bar-band rock 'n' roll when he is not playing defense. "Being American soccer players, half the time we don't know where our next job is coming from. We're all road warriors."

This summer they have the good fortune to be home warriors. The host nation automatically qualifies as one of the teams that will play in the quadrennial tournament, and no host has ever been eliminated in the Cup's first round. Home-court advantage helps: players can hear the cheers, see the ocean of flags in the stands. Then again, no host country's fans have ever been less fanatic about the sport than Americans. In 1988, when the international federation that governs soccer chose the U.S. as the site for Cup play, it insisted that a professional league be in place by '94. That hasn't happened. Soccer is still a schoolyard pastime and an impresario's fantasy.

Against Colombia, the U.S. team realized its own fantasy through luck and pluck. For starters, it was playing a stricken team: Colombia, some of whose local teams have been sponsored by drug lords. Just before the game, defensive back Jaime Gabriel Gomez was removed from the lineup because his family in Medellin had been threatened with death if he played. After the defeat, coach Francisco Maturano said, "The team played bad on purpose. I don't know why."

Actually, the Colombians scored twice, the U.S. team only once -- but the Colombians made one goal by accidentally deflecting an American pass into their own net. Yet the U.S. didn't win by default; it won by design. "The Colombians played right down the middle," says Lalas, "where we were congested. For them it was like shooting a ball through a forest -- you're always going to hit something. We'd win the ball, exploit the space and go out with fast forwards. It's like a fast break in basketball." Ernie Stewart's goal, which put the U.S. up 2-0, was the climax of fleet choreography involving seven intricate passes. Faced with this brisk juggernaut, Colombia turned dyspeptic, seemingly resigned to being humiliated by the U.S. "They deserved the win," wrote a Bogota daily, "as much as we deserved the loss."

If anyone deserved the win, it was the team's coach, Bora Milutinovic, who in previous Cups had spurred weak Mexican and Costa Rican squads into the quarterfinals. The quasi-mystical Serb disdains star quality for teamwork and emphasizes the Latin strategy of zigzagging moves over the British long-ball style. Above all, he makes his players believe in themselves against the world. "He's a mix of Richard Simmons and Yoda," says Lalas. "It requires a great leap of faith to follow him. Sometimes you have no idea what he is saying." Typical Yoda quote: "We don't know what we do, but what we do, we do good."

The U.S. has done well so far. Now it must prove it can play with the big boys: Germany, Brazil, Argentina and Italy. But getting even halfway to the final would be further than anyone but these Cinderella soccer kids expected. Today, Colombia. Tomorrow ... the World Cup?

Well, maybe not. But a professional soccer league in the U.S. would be nice. Then America might really learn how exciting the world's favorite game can be.

With reporting by Barry Hillenbrand/London, Tom Quinn/Bogota and James Willwerth/Mission Viejo