The New Republic

Well, I'm not sure how I'm going to be able to work after that.  But why mess with the morning's workless streak? (Actually I'm at a panel discussion, where chin-tugging will hopefully calm me down.) The most exciting match of the tournament by far. Add it to the growing pantheon of courageous U.S. ties.  (I await the day when my most precious memories of U.S. soccer aren't just spiritual triumphs.)

I certainly had a bad feeling entering the second half and had already begun writing an angry blog post in my head. It would have included a vitriolic attack on Bob Bradley and his chowderheaded lineup--a lineup that I thought had been designed to yield a draw with England, not crush Slovenes. Robbie Findley is fast enough to play at this level, but not pacey enough to compensate for his poor, poor first touch and lack of chemistry with Altidore. We have a real paucity of strikers and need to push Dempsey and Donovan forward.  There's simply no other plausible option. And Altidore showed why he needs to be the target for service.  His frame was too much even for those Mitteleuropean center halves.  Bradley was always going to have to turn his lineup like a Rubik's Cube to match up against three very different opponents. It's a damn shame that it took a two goal deficit to force his hand. And that Edu goal? The U.S. has benefited from too much good fortune this tournament to wax apoplectic over getting screwed.

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