Finding Their Footing in the Desert

On This Day in 1992, After a Dismal Scoring Drought and Opening Loss in the King Fahd Cup, the Americans Finally Rediscovered Their Attack in Riyadh

The King Fahd Cup (now the defunct Confederations Cup) wasn't the World Cup or even a proper continental championship. But in October 1992, as the United States Men's National Team continued its relentless march toward hosting the 1994 World Cup, every competitive match mattered. FIFA had created this new tournament—officially branded the Intercontinental Cup—to bring together continental champions for the first time. North America's champion, the United States, would face South America's Argentina, Africa's Ivory Coast, and hosts Saudi Arabia in what some were calling "a small World Cup."

For a US team still searching for consistency and credibility, the tournament represented another chance to measure itself against quality opposition, with its best players available. Players like John Harkes and Roy Wegerle from English clubs, Tab Ramos from Spain, and Eric Wynalda from Germany were released from their club duties since this tournament is sanctioned by FIFA. But the optimism surrounding the expanded talent pool couldn't mask a troubling reality: the Americans had entered the tournament having scored just two goals in their previous nine matches, suffering eight shutouts in that stretch. Their 5-4-10 (WDL) record in 1992 told the story of a team still finding its identity.

The tournament began badly. On October 15, before 70,000 fans at the spectacular King Fahd Stadium—a $300-400 million facility with a translucent tent-peaked roof that left American players awestruck—the US stumbled through a second-half collapse against Saudi Arabia. After a scoreless first half, goalkeeper Tony Meola collided with Sami Ajaber in the penalty box in the 49th minute. Fahad Alharifi converted the penalty to give Saudi Arabia the lead. The floodgates opened from there. In the 72nd minute, Mike Lapper's header struck the crossbar, and though the rebound fell to Harkes, the US was flagged offside. Minutes later, Yusef Althunyan found himself unmarked in the penalty area and headed home the second. Khalid Masad dribbled through the American defense to complete the 3-0 defeat.

"We beat ourselves," defender Paul Caligiuri said afterward. "You wish you could replay these games."

The loss meant the US would face Ivory Coast—who had lost their opener to Argentina—in the third-place match on October 19. Another defeat would send the Americans home with nothing but questions heading into the final year-and-a-half before hosting the World Cup. The Coasters, surprise winners of the African Nations Cup the previous January on penalties after a scoreless final, had opened their World Cup qualifying campaign with a 6-0 demolition of Botswana just weeks earlier. Their stars played professionally in France, including Joel Tiehi of Le Havre and Youssouf Fofana of Monaco. They were no consolation prize.

But something shifted for the Americans in that third-place match. Perhaps it was desperation. Perhaps it was the weight of knowing they couldn't go home empty-handed. Whatever the catalyst, the US finally rediscovered what had eluded them for months: goals. In the 12th minute, Caligiuri—the same defender who had lamented the Saudi loss—sent a free kick into the box. Marcelo Balboa, who had played every minute of all 21 US matches in 1992, rose to meet it and headed home the opener. The drought was over.

The lead lasted just five minutes. Oumar Ben Salah's free kick struck Balboa's foot and deflected to Abdoulaye Traore, who equalized to make it 1-1. But unlike so many matches this year when conceding meant collapse, the Americans pushed forward. In the 32nd minute, Wynalda—tied for second in Bundesliga scoring with six goals and the team's leading scorer with five in 1992—embarked on an end-to-end run with the ball. Instead of shooting, he played the pass to Cobi Jones, the 22-year-old Olympic team member who was making just his second appearance for the senior national team. Jones buried his first international goal to restore the US lead at 2-1.

The second half brought more of the same attacking verve. In the 56th minute, the Wynalda-Jones connection struck again, only this time reversed. Jones turned provider, and Wynalda finished to make it 3-1. Eleven minutes later, Bruce Murray—the national team's all-time leading scorer with 17 goals before this match—struck from nine yards out to extend the advantage to 4-1. Ivory Coast pulled one back through Donald Olivier Sie in the 76th minute, briefly threatening a comeback at 4-2. But Murray wasn't finished. In the 83rd minute, Hugo Perez sent a cross into the box, and Murray met it with a header to complete his brace and seal the 5-2 victory.

Five goals. The US matched its single-game high for the year and recorded its highest scoring output in an away match since a 5-2 win over Cuba in Mexico City in 1949. "Tonight was important," captain Tony Meola said. "Before the game, we said we had to win. We usually don't say that."

"The only difference was we scored goals," Bora Milutinović said with characteristic understatement. "Goals give you lots of confidence. When you score, you have a chance to win. To score goals, you have to have speed, luck and improvisation. To score five goals is incredible. They were all nice goals." Wynalda, who had orchestrated much of the attack, deflected praise. "People will talk about my contribution, but it was a team effort. We moved the ball and took them out of position with quick movements by players."

The bronze medal was modest, but the performance was essential. With less than 20 months until the World Cup kicked off on American soil, where the US would open the tournament at the Pontiac Silverdome, the team had finally shown it could break down quality opposition. The European-based stars had proven their worth—Wynalda and Jones combining for three goals, Harkes and Wegerle contributing alongside the domestic core. The drought had broken at the right time, offering a glimpse of what the Americans could be when everything clicked.

In the desert heat of Riyadh, far from home and facing a tournament that didn't carry the prestige of a World Cup, the United States had found something more valuable than a trophy: belief that their attack could deliver when it mattered most.