Listen to this article
Estimated 5 minutes
The audio version of this article is generated by AI-based technology. Mispronunciations can occur. We are working with our partners to continually review and improve the results.
In the minutes after Canada’s men did what once seemed impossible — after they had won the first World Cup elimination game in their history, 1-0 over South Africa on a glorious Sunday afternoon in Los Angeles — head coach Jesse Marsch gathered his team together in a circle so tight it made its own gravity.
“You should be so proud of who you are,” he shouted over the sound of the still-cheering crowd. “You should be so proud of this game. You never lost belief. You went after it, point after point, moment after moment. You are Canadian heroes.”
For long-suffering Canadian soccer fans, the scene was surreal, as though they were watching another country’s celebrations. Instead, Stephen Eustáquio’s winner, scored on a long volley in the 92nd minute, made our own history: Canada will now play in its first Round of 16.
In some ways, it’s easy for this team to set new standards, because for decades, there were no standards.
Soccer North hosts Donnovan Bennett & Amy Walsh break down Canada’s knock out match against South Africa.
Canada’s men qualified for their first World Cup in 1986 in Mexico and lost all three games, failing even to score a goal. It took 36 years for them to qualify again, in 2022 in Qatar, where they lost all three games, though at least scoring twice in the process.
In between, they were so awful, they might have been a national embarrassment if anyone thought to care about them. In 2012 — not so long ago, as soccer cycles go — they travelled to Honduras in World Cup qualifying and lost 8-1.
“We were terrible,” then-captain Kevin McKenna said after. “It’s an absolute low for us.”
Somehow, things got worse. The team went winless in 16 consecutive games. It endured 958 minutes without scoring. By the summer of 2014, it was ranked 122nd in the world, between the Central African Republic and Guinea-Bissau.
Only 12 years later, Canada will share the World Cup spotlight with either Morocco or the Netherlands and a chance to reach the quarterfinals.
There are players on this expectations-changing team — Cyle Larin, Richie Laryea, Maxime Crépeau — who are old enough to remember far bleaker times.
The national team has come a very long way. To see where we’re at now, to win a game like this at a World Cup, to be moving on, it’s special.– Richie Laryea
“The national team has come a very long way,” Laryea said after that post-game circle finally broke. “To see where we’re at now, to win a game like this at a World Cup, to be moving on, it’s special… We just won a Round of 32 game. I’m not sure there’s anything else I need to say.”
Crépeau couldn’t speak at all, lifting his jersey to his face to soak up his tears. That’s how much it meant to him. That was his level of relief, and release.
“It took 92 minutes, but we got there,” Marsch said.
In one sense, in the immediate sense, he was exactly right.
In another, he woefully undercounted how long it took for Canada’s men to experience their moment in the sun in Los Angeles. It took years. It took a century. It took so long that a day like Sunday felt like one of those fantasies that desperate people nurse to survive their inalterable circumstances, except somehow the fantasy came true.
It might be too much to call these players heroes. It might, in fact, be unfair to them, as though it discounts their struggles and what they’ve had to overcome.
They are not an otherworldly collection of talent. Player for player, not many of them would start for most of the other teams that will play in the Round of 16. Even Sunday, some of them played hurt, a diminished version of their already second-tier selves.
They are not artists. They are not blessed. They are grinders, they are strivers, they are workers, they are dreamers.
This team is just like the rest of us in so many ways.
That’s what made Sunday so worth the wait. In the stands of Los Angeles Stadium, in the crowded streets of Toronto and Vancouver, in living rooms and bars and soccer clubs across the country, Stephen Eustáquio’s moment felt shared, and not just with his teammates.
We all got there, finally, together.
Source link
