On Team USA and the Springfield Isotopes

Fulham’s Clint Dempsey became the latest American injury victim over the weekend after hobbling off in the 62^nd minute in a loss to Blackburn.  His club released a statement regarding the injury on their website, which can pretty much be summed up by this: Hurt knee. Out 1 day to 4 months.  “Moderate damage to a ligament”?  Returning “prior to the end of the season”?  The fact that they’re being so vague would suggest to me that 4 months is probably more accurate.  Fulham manager Roy Hodgson is a shrewd operator and will surely do everything possible to not tip his hand so late in the transfer window[1].  Simple supply and demand tells us that the moment Fulham reveal they need strikers, they will instantly get more expensive, meaning there are literally millions of reasons for such a tightfisted club to avoid transparency with their injury updates.  Cost of James Beattie with Clint Dempsey back in two weeks: practically free (provided that the manager refrains from head-butting him in the shower).   Cost of James Beattie with Clint Dempsey out for the year: £5 million.  If he was going to be back shortly, Roy would have shouted it from the rooftops.

And so continues the Confederations Curse… another American down.  Since last June, when we beat unbeatable Spain and scored Brazil-like goals against Brazil, star players have been subject to misfortune and folly that even tragedy-savvy Greeks would appreciate.  Central defender Oguchi Onyewu blew out his patella in a meaningless game with no one even near him.  This was days after striker Charlie Davies narrowly escaped death on the DC beltway.  The driver in the incident was killed, while Davies suffered a lacerated bladder, a broken leg, facial fractures and a broken elbow.  Meanwhile, Onyewu’s central defensive partner, Jay Demerit suffered from a freak eye injury while taking out a contact lens.  Said eye subsequently became infected and required surgery.  I’m not making this stuff up.  This series of pre-tournament calamities reminds me of that episode of The Simpson’s where Mr. Burns assembles a team of Major League Baseball players to compete in the local softball finals for his Springfield Isotopes, shortly before which each player falls victim to some ludicrous fate.  Roger Clemens is hypnotized into thinking he’s a chicken; Wade Boggs is punched out by Barney in a pub argument over the greatest British prime minister (Boggs advocated Pitt the Elder, Barney went for Lord Palmerston); Mike Scoscia gets radiation poisoning, Steve Sax is wrongfully arrested, etc.

What’s next for Team America?  Will Bob Bradley kick his son and starting midfielder, Michael, off the team for refusing to shave his sideburns?  Is Tim Howard going to disappear into a 4^th dimensional void like Ozzie Smith?  Hell, Landon Donovan might already be suffering from acute gigantism a la Ken Griffey Jr.  Thankfully for American fans, Donovan’s case has thus far been restricted to his forehead.

It’s not even February so I’ll stop short of declaring that we are cosmically doomed, but the fact remains that Team America are only a freak accident or two away from the guarantee of another World Cup three and out.  Sure, this team is more talented than previous sides, but the depth still isn’t there.  England  can afford a few over-zealous disputes on who in fact is the greatest British prime minister of all time.  They have the luxury of replacing injured stars with other stars (questions about Gerrard's fitness?  Play Barry or Joe Cole.  Aaron Lennon and Theo Walcott out?  There's still some guy named Beckham).  But the US?  They're soon going to be fielding players whose pay is on par with your average accountant of fictional nuclear safety technician.  Will the likes of Dempsey, Davies and Onyewu make it back in time or are we going to have to count on the Homer Simpsons of the soccer world?
We'll know in 1 day to 4 months, I guess.

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[1] The English equivalent of the trade deadline is January 31.