I couldn't help but feel just a bit sorry for Jozy Altidore last week while watching his Red Bulls take on Toronto. It was a nationally broadcast game, on ESPN2. There was a nice moment when J.P. Dellacamera brought out the fact that his commentary partner, John Harkes, has had great influence on the teenager's development. Harkes said all the right things about a young man he helped coach a year ago, and then the cameras subsequently spent a fair bit of the evening focused on the kid.
Altidore is also a charming guy. When he's put under the spotlight, he is composed enough to say the right things — that he's a Red Bulls player, and is focused on the here and now. This despite the chatter that Villarreal may be interested in adding him to a side headed towards next season's Champions League.
There's no question Altidore has talent. But the sound of the star machine starting up is hard to ignore. Fact is, it's premature to train the klieg lights on him. Altidore is all potential, very little of which is proven. He needs to excel at the Olympics and/or produce two or three consistently good years at the top European level before we anoint him as soccer's next big thing. And yet, there's that sound, the clanking of presses and the clicks of microphones, around Altidore already.
Thus, my sympathy for him. So many folks connected with American soccer want a true superstar, a player who can drag the sport from the side streets into the spotlight, that we have been anointing kids prematurely. Then, we turn on them when they disappoint. I am beginning to fear that Altidore is the next victim.
It's easy to blame the television people for what has become a sad cycle, but that's a copout. American sports TV, for better or worse, thrives by selling stars, and we, the fans and the media, lap it up. Even the top sports need big names to bring in big audiences.
That's why the Red Sox and Yankees show up so often on national baseball telecasts, that's why the NBA is praying for a Lakers-Celtics final, and that's why the NFL so carefully crafts its prime time schedules to maximize appearances for 'national' franchises like Dallas, Green Bay and Washington.
There are even times when the teams disappear, in absurdity. An outsider, listening to talk radio, might well have thought that Tom Brady and Eli Manning were going mano-a-mano this winter and the rest of the guys were going to remain on the sidelines.
Soccer is no different, and yes, it does need stars. We have precious few here — they're imports — and it would be nice to manufacture a few of our own. Thing is, American soccer operates at a very different pace than football, basketball and baseball. Our homegrown soccer players still do not face the rigid public scrutiny as they develop that our other athletes do, to their detriment. It's no shock that these men then have difficulties handling sudden attention.
There are plenty of examples. How about those cover boy pictures of Clint Mathis before Korea/Japan in 2002? Remember the unreasonable demands heaped on Landon Donovan's shoulders ahead of Germany 2006? And, then we come to Exhibit A: Freddy Adu. I'm as guilty as anyone in the media (if not more so) for that fiasco. In retrospect, I gave the young man far too much credit and attention, too early, simply because he was very, very good at age 14.
Now, global soccer is cruel, especially to its young. Very few good young players turn out to be stars. It doesn't matter if you are Argentinean, Brazilian, English, German, Italian or were born in the USA. The odds are overwhelmingly against you becoming a world-class player. Go take a look some time at the rosters from past FIFA Under-17 World Cups. You won't find that many 'superstars' who are still playing at the top level ten years later.
Since our best players tend to come up through the national team programs, that natural attrition gets magnified. Obviously, there are far more elite basketball, football and baseball players than soccer players here. And, yes, there are also plenty of anointed 'stars' in those sports that fail to live up to the hype.
But, when it comes to soccer, the numbers just don't work. A hundred football players can be hyped and if they fail, few people notice because there's another hundred waiting in the wings. That's just not so for soccer, where every 'flop' is public.
Right now, the most consistently effective American playing overseas is Brad Friedel. The USA is actually lucky to have several very good goalkeepers earning nice livings overseas.
Field players are a quite different story. There's Steve Cherundolo in Germany, who has held his place in the Bundesliga far longer and with greater effectiveness than any other overseas American. German soccer is top level and Cherundolo starts week after week. He may not be your idea of the best United States player, but his Bundesliga record argues that he has perhaps been the best at handling a high-pressure soccer career.
Brian McBride, surely, has also demonstrated that he belongs in the elite class. Hampered by far too many injuries, McBride has scored goals in the Premier League for both Everton and Fulham and remains worthy of his place in a starting lineup whenever healthy.
Many others have found it difficult to sustain momentum. Clint Dempsey looks like he will eventually establish himself, but it hasn't been all champagne and roses playing with one of the PL's worst teams. Eddie Lewis and (last year's Gold Cup hero) Benny Feilhaber aren't tearing it up at Derby, which is the absolute worst team in the English top flight. Bobby Convey is another American who has struggled to make a mark at Reading — another team worried about relegation.
I'd like to believe that this has been a breakout year for Michael Bradley at Heerenveen in the Dutch Eredivisie. He is a midfielder who can be the linchpin of the U.S. national team, but one season does not make a player or a star. He faces a big challenge in repeating this year's performance next season.
I hope my caution is understandable. It's just that so many Americans have had some good moments before being swiftly eclipsed. Joe-Max Moore, a player whose value to the U.S. national team cannot be understated, had such a spell in England. Ante Razov went to Spain ... then came back to MLS.
Claudio Reyna was consistent in both Scotland and England, but he's going to be remembered as a journeyman, not one of the elite. Harkes made a small mark during a brief career in England, Marcelo Balboa was very good in Mexico. Cle Kooiman (remember him?) was also very good in Mexico at a time when few Americans played outside this country. This list — brief, shining moments followed by decline — goes on quite a ways.
And what of Adu? He battles on in Portugal after failing to live up to the hype that accompanied his debut in MLS.
Make no mistake. All of the above are, or were, very good players — Americans who had the necessary gifts to get a chance at the highest levels. The fact that only a couple of them have been able to have solid careers is right in line with the huge numbers of minor league baseball players who never reach the majors, or those would-be NFL regulars who only get as far as the taxi squad. Those guys sitting on the ends of the NBA benches and the healthy scratches on every NHL hockey team are elite athletes. They just aren't the very, very best in a most demanding career field.
Understanding that — and recognizing how 'stardom' can affect our soccer players — might help change what has become a pattern abroad.
So, here's a proposal. Let's let Altidore and the other young kids coming up, grow up. If Altidore is a part of the 2010 World Cup team, how about we spare him the magazine covers and TV interviews? And if he does go to Spain, let's wait a year before judging him.
We all want American soccer stars. But we have to be patient. The worst thing that can happen is for fans and the media to try and create them.
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