Mauricio Pochettino took a moment to gather his thoughts as technical difficulties with the microphone disrupted his address. After a brief pause, he attempted to engage with the 5,500 supporters who had come to Championship Soccer Stadium in Irvine, California, the U.S. World Cup training hub, for an open practice session. Eventually, he managed to deliver a lighthearted remark.
“We are in the greatest country in the world,” he quipped in his distinct Rioplatense-accented English. “But the technology does not work.”
Pochettino’s transition to the U.S. soccer landscape has encountered various obstacles. Arriving with a lucrative contract of $6 million per year—marking the largest investment in a coach by U.S. Soccer to date—his extensive experience includes stints with some of the most prestigious clubs and players globally. His mission is to guide a nation better known for its prowess in other sports toward a remarkable achievement in a World Cup they will co-host.
Throughout his 22-month tenure, the team’s performance—boasting 15 wins, 10 losses, and one draw—has not inspired confidence in a deep tournament run. The squad has displayed an inconsistent structure, oscillating between moments of brilliance and periods of lethargy, from showing great tenacity one moment to appearing timid the next. Nevertheless, Pochettino has embraced the surrounding excitement, frequently asserting that the U.S. is capable of winning the World Cup. (“We want to do this for ourselves and for our own country,”, he often poses.)
Critics argue that it is equally plausible to envision the team exiting in the group stage or the first knockout round, echoing their experience at Qatar 2022. They face a challenging group featuring Paraguay, Australia, and Turkey, and the team has struggled against the caliber of opponents they could encounter in the Round of 32 or later.
The question of what constitutes success hangs heavily over the U.S. team at this tournament. Elite teams like Spain, France, Brazil, and Argentina enter with the expectation that anything less than the championship will be deemed a failure. In contrast, smaller nations such as Curaçao, Jordan, and Cape Verde recognize that simply competing well holds significant value.
The U.S. performance will not only be assessed based on the players—widely regarded as the most gifted cohort in the men’s program’s history—but also in terms of broader implications for American soccer.
“We have really good players playing in top clubs in the world, we have a good team. We’re going to do the best we can to prove ourselves right.” Christian Pulisic, the team’s standout player, shared with reporters earlier this month. “The first gift an Argentinian gets is a football; here, it’s a baseball bat, a basketball, an oval ball,”
The coach and players are optimistic, but what will it take to earn the belief of their fellow citizens? While soccer’s popularity is growing, it remains overshadowed by foreign leagues—such as the Premier League, Mexico’s Liga MX, and the Champions League—which dominate the American sports landscape. What will it take for American soccer to claim its rightful place in the hearts of Americans? To generate a level of enthusiasm that rivals that of baseball, basketball, and American football? To attract a wave of investment that could significantly bolster a domestic soccer culture in the U.S.?
“Changing that’s not today or tomorrow. But there are almost 400 million people, 80 million Latinos, who already have that football DNA, and there’s space [for all sports]. What’s the problem? That people want results now.” Pochettino remarked. “Well, I don’t know if I could be made a better coach,”
A successful 2026 World Cup run that surpasses the previous modern record—reaching the quarter-finals in 2002—could catalyze improvements across various domains, even if results are not immediate. Equally important, however, is whether the American public can form a genuine connection with these players, from the trio of childhood friends (Pulisic, Weston McKennie, and Tyler Adams) forming the team’s core to defensive stalwart Chris Richards, and dual-nationals like Antonee Robinson, Folarin Balogun, Alejandro Zendejas, and Ricardo Pepi.
What would it take to elevate them to true household names?
This type of engagement partially hinges on events like the one on Monday, where Pochettino interacted with fans. Once the microphone was functioning properly, he expressed pride in being based in Irvine, where over 30,000 people applied for tickets to the open training session. He expressed gratitude to the fans for their unwavering support, and the lucky attendees cheered enthusiastically, creating a positive atmosphere that contrasted with the negativity sometimes surrounding the program. Fans observed the team’s drills and took selfies in the autograph line, congratulating players on their achievements and sharing stories about their journeys to see them. For these supporters, the team symbolizes hope amid challenging times.
Among some segments of the broader American soccer community, however, there is a palpable tension regarding the implications of this tournament and what U.S. success might signify. The U.S. players have not engaged in conflicts like those with Iran, nor have they enforced discriminatory travel bans that have barred a prominent referee from entering the country. They have not dispatched federal forces to intimidate citizens, nor have they systematically vilified those seeking asylum or a better life. They have not constructed a UFC arena on the White House lawn, which would serve as a provocative counter to a global event that many in the nation have labored tirelessly to support.
Still, the players’ uniforms emblazoned with the waving stripes and shimmering stars symbolize the country and government that have enacted such actions. Will any level of achievement, any unforgettable, joy-inducing goals be sufficient to overshadow that legacy? Can they move beyond it?
Pochettino has opted to steer clear of political discussions and appears to have encouraged his players to do the same. On Monday, he told the crowd in Orange County that he could not be prouder to lead the U.S. team and that the players, fans, and federation have made him a better person and a more effective coach.
“I think you can do better,” he joked—his attempt at humor fell a bit flat, at least until he later apologized for his “Argentinian humor.” He concluded his remarks with what he assumed would be a crowd-pleaser—a brief countdown and the chant “USA!” However, the audience struggled to find the rhythm he intended. He tried again. “I think you can do better,” he challenged. “1, 2, 3 …”
Finally, the entire crowd erupted in unison, shouting “USA!”
