Proving Ground at RFK

On This Day in 1996, Americans Launch World Cup Qualifying Campaign Against Grief-Stricken Guatemala

The two months between that August night at the Coliseum and the opening of qualifying had brought both clarity and complication to the U.S. national team's World Cup aspirations. Major League Soccer's inaugural season had concluded with unexpectedly strong play down the stretch, providing Steve Sampson with a deeper domestic talent pool than any American coach had ever enjoyed. Yet the buildup to qualifying had been marred by contentious contract negotiations that dragged into the final days before camp, with players and the U.S. Soccer Federation finally agreeing to terms that included $5,000 per qualifier and a million-dollar bonus pool if the team reached France.

Now, on a crisp November 3 afternoon in Washington, the real work began. Six matches in seven weeks would determine whether the Americans advanced from a four-team group that included Costa Rica, Trinidad and Tobago and Guatemala. Only the top two would proceed to the hexagonal final round in 1997, where three CONCACAF nations would claim their tickets to France '98. For a U.S. team that hadn't faced a World Cup qualifier in seven years—having earned automatic entry as hosts in 1994—the stakes were clear: prove that American soccer's progress was genuine, not circumstantial.

The opponent added unexpected emotional weight. Guatemala arrived in Washington carrying the grief of a nation. Just eighteen days earlier, eighty-four fans had been trampled to death in a stadium stampede at Mateo Flores Stadium in Guatemala City, victims of counterfeit ticket sales that had swelled the crowd beyond capacity. The scheduled qualifier against Costa Rica had been postponed, and now the Guatemalan players would make their first appearance since the tragedy, wearing black armbands and playing for something larger than three points.

"We have to be prepared for them to be highly motivated as a gesture to the Guatemalan people," Sampson acknowledged. "We don't take anything for granted."

The coach's lineup reflected MLS's growing influence on the national team program. 14 of his 18 players had spent the season in the domestic league, including Kansas City's Preki—the 33-year-old Yugoslav who had been sworn in as a U.S. citizen just days earlier and would make his debut. Kasey Keller, fresh off a clean sheet against Premier League leaders Newcastle for Leicester City, earned the starting goalkeeper position over Brad Friedel in what Sampson called "one of the most difficult decisions I've ever had to make." Absent was Marcelo Balboa, the acrobatic defender whose almost bicycle kick against Colombia had provided World Cup '94's most spectacular American moment; a chronic foot injury had kept him out of action for two months.

What nobody had anticipated was the atmosphere awaiting them at RFK Stadium. When the teams emerged for warmups, the sea of blue and white stopped Jeff Agoos mid-stride. Guatemalan flags filled nearly every section, waved by supporters who had traveled from across the East Coast, arriving as early as seven in the morning for the one o'clock kickoff. A marimba band played outside the main gates. Handwritten signs dotted the stands: "We Are Guatemala Plus 84. In Peace They Rest." Of the 30,082 in attendance, the overwhelming majority had come to cheer for the visitors. "I couldn't believe it," Agoos said afterward. "I looked around and saw all the flags, and I swear we were playing in Guatemala City."

The emotional energy translated immediately into physical intensity. Guatemala pressed forward with three attackers, a tactical wrinkle that caught Sampson by surprise—he had prepared for two forwards and given Eddie Pope permission to attend classes at North Carolina. The visitors generated dangerous chances, finding seams in an American defense that had suddenly lost its numerical advantage. Keller was forced into several sharp saves, none more critical than in the first half when Guatemala broke through only to see two players miss with the goalkeeper stranded.

For 55 minutes, the match remained scoreless despite Guatemala's purposeful attacks and the Americans' occasional forays forward. The breakthrough finally arrived through the partnership that had become the U.S. team's most reliable weapon. Claudio Reyna found space on the left flank and delivered a precision cross toward the penalty spot. Eric Wynalda met it with his left foot from eight yards, blasting the ball past goalkeeper Edgar Estrada for his 26th international goal—extending his own national team record.

The celebration told its own story. Wynalda sprinted toward the corner flag, desperately searching for American supporters to embrace. He found a pocket of them at the far end of the stadium, a small island in a sea of blue and white. The Guatemalan flags that had waved so furiously moments before now hung limp in disappointment. "I saw the Guatemalan flags dipped after my goal," Wynalda said, "and I raced around looking to greet the Americans I could find."

The lone goal might have been enough, but it wasn't comfortable. Guatemala continued to press, and the American defense continued to give ground. In the 79th minute, with legs growing heavy and anxiety rising, the visitors carved out another clear chance that Keller somehow kept out. Sampson paced the technical area, knowing his team needed insurance. It arrived in the 89th minute with a flourish of speed and precision. Wynalda collected the ball wide on the left and spotted Brian McBride making a diagonal run through the channel. The pass was perfectly weighted, the run perfectly timed. McBride outpaced his defender with authority and slotted the low cross into the far corner for his first international goal in his national team debut. The sigh of relief from the American bench was audible even over the crowd noise.

The final whistle brought a mix of satisfaction and concern. The 2-0 victory had delivered three crucial points and first place in Group 1, alongside Costa Rica, which had also won its opener. But the performance had exposed vulnerabilities that couldn't be ignored, with Trinidad and Tobago arriving in Richmond in just seven days. "We have to shore up our defense," Sampson admitted, the tactical surprise still fresh. "Guatemala got behind us on a number of occasions and could have scored a couple of goals. I'm not satisfied with our play at times. We have some things to iron out."

The crowd composition troubled him equally. From Sampson down to every player, the Americans were disappointed by the lack of support in their own capital. The coach floated the idea of canceling youth games in the area during future qualifiers to ensure local players and families could attend—a suggestion that highlighted how American soccer still struggled to command its home spaces, even in success.

Yet beneath the concerns lay undeniable progress. The Americans had navigated a charged emotional environment and an unexpected tactical challenge to claim victory. McBride's debut goal announced the arrival of another scoring option. Wynalda's continued reliability—his 26th goal came in his 75th appearance—provided the steady threat every qualifying campaign requires. Most importantly, the team had responded to pressure with composure, adding a second goal when one might have been enough, and Guatemala was pushing hardest.

As the players boarded buses for the short trip to Richmond, the marathon continued. Six matches in seven weeks. Trinidad and Tobago twice, Costa Rica twice, and Guatemala again in three weeks. The road to France would wind through hostile venues and hostile crowds, through altitude and heat, through the grinding attrition of CONCACAF qualifying. But on this November afternoon in Washington, playing before a crowd that felt like an away match, the Americans had taken the first necessary step. France '98 was still 14 months and countless obstacles away. For now, three points and first place would suffice.