In 2006 we walked from the stadium after a shocking defeat to Ghana. This has been well documented in the past; no one spoke for three on-foot miles. It was living in chains. It was horrifying. We were shell-shocked. We had all spent our entire financial holdings on the trip and hadn't even seen the $6,000 bill for totaling a car. It was an ugly '06 June. Fast-forward four years and it's a slightly different cast of characters with some major additions and some major (emotional) absences. This time we generated an enclave in South Africa, survived a death sentence against Slovenia and experienced a divine Landon Donovan goal against Algeria. It's 2010 and we're drawn against Ghana again and we promise, we swear, we're going to give our very sporting souls in the breach tomorrow.
It's impossible to exactly explain the events after Donovan scored 48 hours ago, but it is useful to know where it led. We collapsed into joy in the moment knowing full well what it meant. In the velocity of the World Cup, it gave us one more game, another three days to grow our scraggly facial hair and another chance to silence critics, prove we travel and get ourselves (nay!), our team towards the promised land.
Tomorrow, against a familiar foe, against a team that reduced me to tears when Dempsey drilled the net in '06, we have a chance for greatness and a chance to think about changing our flights and trying to stay here to the end. We are on an absolutely miraculous run and one that we don't want to end. Don't look down, USA. We've run off the cliff and we swear up and down that we can walk on air. Or, at the very least, we refuse to walk home from this stadium. America, find your Delaware River, find your last fortitude, find your passport, locate Trenton and attack. You are Americans and goddammit, you are free.
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