Winless at the 1988 Olympics

 On This Day in 1988, a Draw with Argentina to Open the Olympics Highlights a Tough Week

The journey to Seoul had been anything but guaranteed. For the first time since 1972, the United States Olympic soccer team had earned its place through qualification rather than automatic berth, navigating through CONCACAF competition with victories over Canada and dominance in the Central American and Caribbean zone. Yet as coach Lothar Osiander surveyed the draw for the 1988 Olympics, the magnitude of the challenge ahead became crystal clear.

Group C represented what team captain Rick Davis bluntly called "the toughest draw in the competition." Argentina, the reigning World Cup champions from 1986. The Soviet Union, silver medalists from the recent European Championships and tournament favorites. South Korea, the host nation with all the advantages that entailed. For a U.S. team that had never advanced past the first round of Olympic competition, the path to the quarterfinals appeared nearly impossible.

"The Russians are very strong," Osiander acknowledged in the lead-up to the tournament. "They have six players who played in the European Nations Cup." The waiter-turned-national coach understood the reality facing his squad—while Olympic rules prohibited World Cup veterans from participating, the depth of talent in European and South American nations meant their Olympic teams remained formidable, filled with hungry young professionals pushing for spots on future World Cup rosters.

The American team represented a new generation of soccer talent, built around experienced captain Davis and featuring players like Brian Bliss from Webster, New York, and defender Kevin Crow. At 29, Davis found himself in an unfamiliar role as the veteran leader of a group whose technical skills, he admitted, now surpassed his own. The transformation reflected broader changes in American soccer—where previous national teams typically lost narrow, low-scoring affairs, this group possessed genuine attacking threat.

September 18 brought the tournament opener against Argentina at Taegu Stadium, where nearly 30,000 spectators witnessed what would become one of the most significant performances in U.S. Olympic soccer history. From the opening whistle, the Americans displayed a confidence that belied their underdog status, controlling tempo and territory against an Argentine side that appeared listless and uninspired without their World Cup stars.

The first half belonged to the Americans. Bliss and Brent Goulet delivered crisp crossing passes from the flanks, repeatedly finding Davis in dangerous positions. The veteran midfielder, twice finding himself open in the penalty area, couldn't quite convert the clear chances, but the message was unmistakable—the Americans belonged on this stage.

Argentina's struggles continued into the second half, their sloppy play and frequent mistakes allowing the United States to maintain pressure. Four minutes after the restart, Bruce Murray announced American intentions with a thunderous shot that crashed off the left post, the sound echoing around Taegu Stadium like a warning shot. Minutes later, Murray's header from a Peter Vermes cross struck the same post, the ball agonizingly refusing to cross the goal line.

The breakthrough finally arrived with ten minutes remaining, delivered by the most unlikely source. Mike Windischmann, a sweeper by trade who had never scored in international competition, found himself on the left wing as a substitute. When the ball fell to his unfavored left foot just outside the penalty area, the Queens native didn't hesitate, unleashing a powerful shot that found its way through traffic and into the back of the net.

"My dream was to play in the Olympics and then to score a goal," Windischmann said afterward, still disbelieving his fortune. The goal represented more than just a lead—it validated years of growth in American soccer and suggested that this young team might actually achieve the impossible.

For 80 minutes, the Americans had outplayed the world champions, but inexperience would prove costly. With seven minutes remaining, substitute John Harkes was called for a foul inside the penalty area, a decision that would haunt the American camp. Carlos Alfaro Moreno stepped up for Argentina, calmly converting the penalty kick to salvage a 1-1 draw.

"The game was ours," Davis reflected afterward, his frustration evident. "When you're up by a goal, you make them play. You give up nothing, but you make them play. But the American team still tends to be naive. We sit back and we don't form a shell around the penalty area."

Three days later in Pusan, roles reversed against South Korea. The Koreans dominated possession, outshooting the Americans 14-4 in a scoreless draw. Goalkeeper David Vanole emerged as the hero, making crucial saves as Korean shots struck the crossbar. "Today we got lucky," Osiander admitted, but the result kept hopes alive.

The decisive match against the Soviet Union brought devastating reality. Early American nerves led to a 3-0 halftime deficit, with goalkeeper Vanole bearing responsibility for two goals. "We made high school mistakes," Osiander said. "We were nervous with the pressure and enthusiasm." Though second-half goals from Goulet and John Doyle provided consolation, the 4-2 defeat eliminated the United States, extending their first-round exit streak.

Yet something had changed in Seoul. The performance against Argentina demonstrated that American soccer was evolving, that the technical gap was narrowing. The team that battled the world champions to a standstill had proven they belonged on soccer's biggest stage. The 1988 Olympics ended in familiar disappointment, but in that day against Argentina had shown that American dreams were no longer impossible. The quest for Olympic breakthrough would continue, but the foundation for future success had been laid in those 80 magnificent minutes against Argentina.