I doubt I'm first on this, but would also hate to be the last. Looks like Brian McBride has retired from international soccer.
Now I could wait a day in order to drink in every weepy, overwrought professional obit on the subject, but my thoughts on this are simple enough. McBride was a good egg and a quintessentially American one at that. He played with more eagerness and energy than grace and guile. That spirit, the belief that outright effort can compensate well enough for basic competence, has always been McBride's calling card as much as it was that of our national team.
While McBride could never be confused with the world's best players, he was certainly one of the bravest (my wife would say dumbest...eh, potato, pot-ah-to...); if the scientific community wants to look into whether soccer players can get brain damage playing soccer, they'd be well-advised to give him a call. There were times - roughly from the mid-1990s to around 2003 - when he seemed more comfortable playing the game with his head than with his feet; I can't precisely recall when I first noticed he actually had feet, but I seem to recall requiring multiple confirmations before believing he scored the second goal against Mexico in the 2002 Cup with his right foot.
It's fair to say that the U.S. Men's team won't be the same without McBride. The question of whether that's a good thing is an open one. I think I got all my mourning out of the way just after the Yanks' World Cup exit; I've been fixated on the future for a while now. McBride deserves a plaque in the Soccer Hall of Fame and I'm confident he'll get it; after all, he's already got a day named after him in Columbus (July 1, 2002, in case you're curious).
Inevitable as it was, I'll keep looking on top for some big blonde fella when the U.S. takes the field in next year's Gold Cup. Ah, well. He had his run and it was one to be proud of.
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