In a nation bereft of any real soccer tradition, the U.S. coach has always had to be a salesman as well as a cheerleader. But what the coach has never been before is home-grown, a product of this country’s soccer-mad suburbs. “An American coach brings to this team a respect for the American player that the rest of the world doesn’t yet share,” says Sampson, 40, an assistant to Bora Milutinovic on the successful 1994 World Cup team. Now, in his second year as head man, Sampson faces his first-and if he fails, likely last-critical challenge: qualifying for the ‘98 World Cup, to be held next June in France.
American soccer has, of late, been remarkably successful. First the United States proved a worthy host for the World Cup. Then last year a credible pro soccer league was established. Not joining the world’s soccer elite in France would be “a huge setback,” Sampson concedes. This Sunday the U.S. squad can take a giant step toward an Atlantic crossing. Before a sellout crowd in Boston, the United States will play its biggest rival, Mexico, coached by none other than Sampson’s old boss, Bora.
‘Us he us’: With a mixture of new stars (Kasey Keller, Claudio Reyna) and ‘94 veterans (Alexi Lalas, John Harkes, Eric Wynalda), Sampson’s squad is a heavy favorite to be one of three World Cup teams from North and Central America and the Caribbean. “But we still aren’t good enough to beat anyone by reputation,” says the coach. Sampson has struggled to transform the team, which chafed under Bora’s defensive style, into an attacking ball club that improvises on the field. “He lets us be us,” says the brash, aggressive Wynalda, America’s all-time leading scorer.
Sampson lets them be them off the field, too. “Bora expected you to eat, drink and live soccer,” says another ‘94 holdover, Brad Friedel. “Americans just aren’t like that. Steve understands our need to get away from soccer.” Not that Sampson, who grew up south of San Francisco, appears to have that need. He began his coaching career at a San Jose junior high school and worked his way up rung by rung. At one point he was coaching four different teams while getting a master’s degree in education at Stanford University. Still, the same folks who once doubted that American players could handle the rigors of the World Cup now question whether an American coach is ready. The players proved the naysayers wrong in ‘94. Now it’s the coach’s turn to lead a chant of (upside down!) Yanqui, si!
