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Tuesday, June 6, 2006
The Bruce as The New Tuna
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Associated Press
So Bruce Arena conducted a closed-door match against Angola Monday near Hamburg, with the U.S. winning 1-0. That’s about all we know, other than Brian McBride scored the goal on a header.
So The Bruce has been as secretive about his team’s preparations as an NSA official pressed to talk about wiretapping. Captain Claudio Reyna did divulge that he’s fit and ready to go for the Yanks’ opener Monday against the Czech Republic, but he wouldn’t say anything more than that.
This is nothing new. Arena’s notorious for iron-fisted dealings with the press, for closing most practice sessions and refusing to discuss strategy in any fashion.
Before the 2002 quarterfinal match against Germany, a reporter with a rather thick Teutonic accent asked what kind of formation he might employ against Der Mannschaft. The Bruce, after a bit of a pause, whipped out the classic Lon Guyland wise-guy:
“You from Joy-minny?”
“Ja, ja.”
“I’m not gonna tell ya!”
Those of us in the Yank press corps could do nothing but laugh, because this is what Arena did all the time. Nearly every day, he was asked questions like this. And nearly every day, he not only deflected them, he burnished them into the ground.
This is what The Bruce does. This is how The Bruce is. And still, despite seeing this in action, and getting smashed with the brunt end of his schtick, there are some seasoned American sportswriters who continue to push him into doing what he resolutely will not do. That is, anything he doesn’t want to do.
I happen to agree with this columnist’s points, on the merits. Yet he can’t see beyond his own fit of pique to grasp the larger picture: keep the opponents guessing.
That was the (evil?) genius of Arena Football in ‘02, when he threw out some mind-boggling lineups that disarmed foes. Remember the second round match against Mexico, which pulled influential midfielder Ramon Morales before halftime in the second round for strategic purposes? Arena had slotted Reyna in a devious, devastating, defensive midfield position, and Morales didn’t even get to play a half an hour. El Tri was a total mess and made the rarest of soccer substitutions, to no avail.
Do you expect The Bruce to be any different with a rugged Group E slate of opponents, starting with the Czechs and Italy? I’ve taken a dim view of his prickly methods myself, but he’s a complicated character, as this superb profile of a coach and a national team reveals. It’s a long read but well worth it.
So while those of us from The Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave say we despise secrecy, the infatuation over Arena’s ploys ignores the fact that they’re no different than that gridiron football coaches, and a growing number on the hoops side as well. He’s got nothing on Bill Parcells and the full range of blustery NFL and college commandants who treat workouts as if they’re war games and access to players as if they’re troops about to be deployed for combat.
What’s surprising is how scribes who’ve been exposed to far worse bellyache as if it’s a new experience. They’re simply playing into The Bruce’s hands, and ratcheting up the intrigue.
But for those of us who like a little suspense and a good mystery, we’ll see how it all unfolds on Monday.
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