America has been swept up in a sudden interest in soccer. We generally prefer our sports to be violent and eventful, but there’s a magic in soccer that’s captivating: the most favorite sons of a nation, competing for said nation’s honor. It’s as if each country sent their own “Avengers” team to protect their sovereignty on a world stage. My own jingoism brought me to television screens and surreptitious, compulsive ALT-TABs to the ESPN Gamecasts as our team fought for glory. In was during one of these contests that I realized rooting for the USMNT was a familiar feeling; it was precisely the same as listening to Nas. In that moment, I realized we were fucked.The USMNT’s World Cup contests played like Nas’ discography: the subtle, thrilling, inexplicable brilliance of the win over Ghana was our Illmatic: An auspicious debut (“Live at the BBQ”/however many previous World Cups notwithstanding) that captured the nation’s attention and made us believe in a limitless future. What followed was a 2-2 tie with Portugal, our It Was Written. While ultimately unsatisfying and short of expectations, enough was shown to justify the attention and future hope. The USMNT then followed with its Stillmatic, or more specifically “Ether”: an obvious, brutal loss to Germany that in the end still gave all the benefits of a decisive win. The US was finally eliminated in our Life Is Good, a 2-1 loss to Belgium. A contest and album both defined by exemplary efforts, punctuated by an ultimate let-down.The USMNT roster is full of the same brilliance and barf of a Nas record. Tim Howard’s brilliance made the game look too easy, the same as Nasir’s flow at his peak powers, leaving your mind unable to conceive how the hell the guy did it. The USMNT defense and midfield took up the Bravehearts banner: often outclassed, frequently embarrassing. Michael Bradley earns the Big Horse honor; the one person so bad that you ended up learing their name via bad connotations. The USMNT manager employed Nas-ian tactics as well, often choosing the starting 11 with the same lack of logic and feel Nas displays when choosing beats to rap over. Combined, it’s a familiar set of frustrations made all the more painful when compared to the easy brilliance of Brazil’s Jay Z, the technical mastery of Germany’s (not-sober) Eminem (Brazil vs. Germany being their “Renegade,” where Germany/Eminem killed Brazil/Jay on their own shit, obvs), or the effortless creativity of Argentina’s Biggie.The truest comparison between being a Nas fan and rooting for the USMNT is also its most simple: no matter how thrilling the peaks, no matter how perfect the technique… deep down, everyone knows a loss is coming. Two pillars of excellence, Nas and the United States, inexplicably can only stay on top for the briefest of moments before crumbling into a sea of squandered talent and lost expectations. We will always try to convince ourselves it will be different “this time,” if only because the lie allows us to enjoy the moment.The USMNT can reverse its Nas-L-of-destiny, and it’s as simple as avoiding the mistakes Nasir has made in his career. (Semi-related: prenups are a good idea for everyone.) We must choose our team wisely; contributions of the past are less valuable than actual contributions. The USMNT cannot keep fielding the soccer equivalent of weed carriers if we expect to win anything significant. Finally, the USMNT must establish an identity centered in our talents: chasing trends or copying more successful teams (call it “Escobar-ing") will only ultimately do our nation a disservice.Neil McCauley's already pre-registered "Oochie Wally" as his wedding song. He's on Twitter - @the_blueprint
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