Forget the platitudes about grit and passion and fight - Mauricio Pochettino and USMNT were undone in Nations League not by rhetoric, but familiar tactical shortcomings

The United States has a puzzling history when it comes to its men's national soccer team. Like many nations, it has a series of signature moments. There was the famous 1-0 win over England at the 1950 World Cup, the "Dos a Cero" over Mexico 52 years later, Donovan's winner against Algeria, Tim Howard's 16 saves in defeat to Belgium.

Soccer is relatively new in this country, its culture still brewing, but there are still touchpoints to be found.

What it lacks, though, is a clear soccer identity. And that is the problem. There is no recognizable game-model to fall on, or signature style to harken back to. Spain keep the ball and pass you to sleep. Germany run and press. Brazil are more technically skilled. England - also quite good at losing in big moments - are stronger.

But modern football requires a top-to-bottom set of principles as to how a team should play with the ball. Instead, the U.S. seems to run off platitudes. They are going to "fight harder" than you. They just "want it more." They have that "dog" in them. And, ironically, for some time, that was enough. The United States made a living in the early to mid 2000s off being the plucky underdog side that could dig in, win its tackles, defend the box, and hit on the break.

For a generation of players, that was a calling card. Mix that intensity with a few talented individuals playing above the level of everyone else, and it worked a charm. Donovan, Dempsey, Howard, Michael Bradley - total Champions League appearances, 10 - were treated like national heroes. These guys became known for their fighting spirit, mostly because it was the only way they could win.

The irony is, playing off emotion can only last for so long. It also relies heavily on the assumption that each wave of players thinks, acts and responds in the same way. But these are abstract qualities that don't exist in every footballer.

The U.S. was, in some senses, lucky that a group of players with similar mentalities came through at the same time. There was a collegiality here that really counted for something. Still, look at the results, and there isn't much to fall back on. The actual material stuff in the trophy cabinet holds little value.

The USMNT have won the Gold Cup - a competition that is increasingly a glorified set of summer friendlies between reserve teams - seven times. Elsewhere, they have slightly overperformed in the occasional World Cup, but always lost at the expected time (thus explaining the hunt for an elusive "signature win.") Tim Howard's performance against Belgium is remembered fondly in American circles, but came in a 2-1 loss to a vastly superior team.

Expectations, we are told, should be different now. In this generation - and no, it is not "golden" - the U.S. has its most talented group of footballers ever. Position for position, on quality alone, they would likely beat any other era of American side.

The difference, now, is that there is pressure on a manager to get it all right. And the U.S. has tried and failed for some time. That famous loss to Trinidad and Tobago that ushered out the "dog" era came with a new face in the dugout and a litany of new names worked into the mix. But even that soon turned stale.

The last 18 months of the Gregg Berhalter era felt like a sporting funeral procession. There was an understanding among many observers - often unspoken - that the former Columbus crew manager was not good enough to carry the U.S. through another World Cup cycle. He was considered, in some ciricles, fortunate to be in charge for Copa America.

And he proved as such in 270 minutes at that tournament. The U.S., of course, went out in the groups, losing to - and here's the kicker - Panama, in one of the more underwhelming major tournament performances from a host nation in recent memory. Berhalter went unceremoniously, and there were very few who felt particularly bad about it.

A new face had to come in. So arrived Mauricio Pochettino, experienced club manager, expected to play savior. The early signs were good. A win over - you guessed it - Panama opened his reign with promise.

A comprehensive defeat in Mexico was cast aside and tagged down, fairly, to a litany of injury issues and player absences. Jamaica were handily done away with in November, before January camp was negotiated with the kind of sigh appropriate for a 10-day period in which nothing of consequence ever truly happens.

The Nations League is a curious thing. For non-host nations, there are implications associated with seeding and World Cup qualification. For the USMNT, hosts of the 2026 World Cup along with Canada and Mexico, it serves as more of a pin in an imaginary board, a date circled on a calendar.

There is a vague importance to all of this, if only because there is a game to be played - and the USMNT had never lost in the tournament. This new generation had another shot to prove that it could shake off the burdens of the old.

Pochettino himself stressed the importance of defending the Nations League title, both near and long-term.

"I want to win the competition," he said earlier this week, "because that is going to help us to build our confidence and trust in the way that we are going to need. At the same time, we need to be intelligent, to try to discover the best players and to build a strong core of the team that has the possibility to fight for big things. That mentality is about now, winning."

"The objective is the World Cup, and I think we are translating the idea that we need to compete in our best way and win the tournament because I think it's important for the future. In one year, we want to compete for the big trophy: the World Cup."

And as a result, Pochettino, groovy, shouty, and all, sincerely tried here. There was a formation in place, with footballers assigned to play them. What looked like a five at the back on paper turned into something resembling a 4-2-3-1 in possession. Yunus Musah looked like a right back on the team sheet, but spent a good portion of the game playing as an extra center midfielder or floating in the high right half space. There were, to be sure, ideas.

But Panama were good - very good. Like any shrewd opponent playing away from home, they set up not to lose. Two banks of five parried away every U.S. attack with relative ease. They never really tried to keep the ball, and ensured that they didn't have it in areas where they could be pressed.

They completed 320 passes to the USMNT's 645. And when Cecilio Waterman, a 33-year-old forward who plays his football for Coquimbo Unido of the Chilean League, was given his chance in the 94th minute, he buried it. This was counter-attacking football in all of its whimsy.

Pochettino also made some questionable decisions in his roster selection. International teamsheets are always a contentious thing. Big calls have to be made in the interests of balance and chemistry. Sometimes, as is often said, the best 11 is not the 11 best.

And part of the issue here is a glaring gap in the USMNT player pool. This is a really good generation of American players - when healthy, anyway. There are hard-working midfielders in Weston McKennie, Yunus Musah and Tyler Adams. There are talented full backs in Antonee Robinson and Sergino Dest - though neither was available this camp because of injury. Christian Pulisic is a do-everything attacking star.

But what they lack is a pure creator who can break down a low block. This is a rare thing in world football. You could perhaps count on one hand the number of players capable of doing that alone. And even having them is not a guarantee of success (ask Gareth Southgate, who coached both Jude Bellingham and Phil Foden for England yet managed to lose two finals).

But the U.S. does have some viable alternatives. This was a game that would serve as a perfect test run of Gio Reyna's fitness. The No. 10 hasn't played much for Dortmund this year, a mixture of injuries and managerial decisions starving him of minutes. But, crucially, he does have that flash of quality in the final third that no one else in the U.S. side can boast.

Reyna sees the balls that few others see, measures the passes that others cannot. He can beat a man, provide an assist, and blow a game wide open. The same can be said - albeit in a different way - of Diego Luna. The Real Salt Lake product isn't the same archetype of player, but he still provides the kind of quality and ability to work in tight spaces. Neither saw the pitch Thursday. Pochettino said after the game that they were being saved for extra time - alas, Waterman ensured that wouldn't happen.

There were other puzzling choices, too. Adams and Tanner Tessmann played in the same midfield - a curious combination of two central players who like to pass the ball sideways. The introduction of Jack McGlynn off the bench seemed aimless. He has a wonderful left foot, but is the kind of tempo setting midfielder required to sort out games that are far too chaotic - not create a moment of magic when all else fails.

And then, there is the long standing striker problem. Josh Sargent has been on fire for Norwich of late, but once again failed to find the net for the national team (although he did hit the post, and had another called back for offsides.) Patrick Agyemang got his chance, but showed some shortcomings in his lack of movement and failure to find space, missing two chances of his own.

Piece it all together, and the U.S. were deserved losers against a team that tactically outmatched them, and executed better on the night. A lot of the time, that's how sports works.

Of course, as American exceptionalism tends to tarnish senses of "nuance" and "measured expectation" the rhetoric in online spheres fell back onto the harping of the old guard. Dempsey talked about "golden generations" and "steps back." Adams, Pulisic and Tim Ream talked about notions of "fight" and "Panama wanting it more."

And there is, admittedly, some truth to that. Panama won more duels on the night. They came with a plan. But this wasn't a question of 11 Panamanians wanting to win while 11 Americans watched. Nor was it a case of the USMNT being outrun, out-tackled, or outclassed. Rather, the USMNT got it wrong tactically, and were left to lament an area in their player pool that is unfortunately shallow.

They have struggled for years to beat teams who set up to defend. This was simply another iteration of that - with even a more tactically adept manager failing to solve the same problem.

So, welcome to crisis central once again. It's a curious thing. After all, that implies that there was a prosperous, pre-crisis state. Where that really was for American soccer isn't quite clear. Was it at the 2021 Nations League, when Christian Pulisic scored a late penalty to beat a bad Mexico? Was it when Howard stood on his head against Belgium?

If there never really were truly any objectively great times, what do you make of the bad? Perhaps the only natural response is to suggest that if you just try harder, something will change. Unfortunately, this sport isn't that simple.