A Draw to End 1984

On This Day in 1984, the U.S. Had a Steep Learning Curve to Close Out the Year, Which Culminated in This 2-2 Draw with Ecuador

The Columbus Cup trophy sat in some office at the U.S. Soccer Federation headquarters, tangible proof that October 11 had happened—that Ade Coker's late goal against Colombia at the Los Angeles Coliseum had delivered silverware, that the Americans had conquered a four-nation tournament featuring World Cup-caliber opposition. The victory over El Salvador three days earlier, Jeff Hooker's breakthrough, and Rick Davis's conversion from twenty-two yards felt like momentum building toward something larger. Mayor Tom Bradley had declared it "International Soccer Week." For a brief moment, American soccer felt like it belonged in the conversation.

Then came the education. Three days after lifting the Columbus Cup, the Americans walked into Guatemala City's Mateo Flores Stadium carrying the confidence of champions. They left carrying the humiliation of a 4-0 defeat, outshot 13-to-7 by a Guatemalan side that picked them apart methodically—one goal in the first half to establish control, then three in the final 17 minutes to hammer home the lesson. Eddy Albures and Eduardo Estrada each scored twice before 20,000 fans who watched their team dismantle the Columbus Cup champions with the ease of professors correcting undergraduates who'd gotten ahead of themselves.

Three days after Guatemala, Mexico City came. Neza Stadium—one of 12 venues being prepared to host the 1986 World Cup—held 27,000 for what should have been a mere exhibition but felt like an examination the Americans weren't ready to take. Dante Juarez gave Mexico the lead in the 39th minute. Perry Van Der Beck equalized with a header from 10 yards, Greg Thompson providing the service, offering brief hope that the collapse in Guatemala had been an aberration. Then Gonzalo Farfan's shot deflected off Kevin Crow's left thigh in the 65th minute, the ball rolling past Winston DuBose to make it 2-1. Second consecutive defeat.

Captain Rick Davis, preparing for the Major Indoor Soccer League season, was among the starters absent. That detail mattered more than anyone wanted to admit. The MISL—where most of America's best players earned their livelihood—had become a scheduling adversary, its winter season creating impossible choices between club obligations and national team duty. The squad would disband after Mexico until the following May, when Trinidad & Tobago and Costa Rica awaited in the second round of qualifying. Five months between meaningful matches.

Alkis Panagoulias needed to see who could play when the veterans weren't available. The exhibitions against Ecuador—back-to-back matches scheduled for November 30 at Hofstra University and December 2 in Miami—would serve as a laboratory for experimentation. Six players would earn their first international caps Friday night on Long Island. Four more would debut Sunday in Florida. The overflow crowd of nearly 10,000 at Hofstra saw promise without production. The Americans outshot Ecuador 11-to-6, creating quality chances that forced goalkeeper Israel Rodriguez into diving saves. Steve Sharp struck from inside 10 yards in the first half. Paul Caligiuri did the same. Both times, Rodriguez denied them. The final whistle blew on a 0-0 draw that felt more like artistic frustration than tactical success.

Two days later, 4,000 spectators filed into Tamiami Stadium in Miami, wondering if this young American side could convert chances into goals. They received their answer almost immediately. 44 seconds into the match, Sharp stole possession deep in Ecuador's end and struck from 20 yards. The shot deflected off defender Elias DeNegri's left leg, the change of direction catching Rodriguez completely wrong-footed. The ball skipped past his outstretched hands and into the net. The Americans had scored faster than most teams complete their opening possession.

They doubled the advantage at 3:30. Jeff Hooker's cross found Jacques Ladouceur, whose initial shot bounced off Rodriguez. Ladouceur collected the rebound and finished. Two goals in the opening four minutes. "We made things happen at the outset," Panagoulias said afterward, the satisfaction in his voice already tempered by what followed. "The problem was that Ecuador kept the ball in our end for the rest of the half, and we seemed unable to do anything about it."

The 2-0 lead became a psychological trap. Ecuador pressured Winston DuBose—the former Tampa Bay Rowdies and Tulsa Roughnecks goalkeeper—for the remainder of the first half, probing for weaknesses in an American defense trying to protect its advantage rather than extend it. In the 39th minute, Carlos Cuvi found space and finished, cutting the deficit in half just before halftime.

Two minutes into the second half, the fragility became a catastrophe. Goalkeeper Jamie Swanner, who'd replaced DuBose at the break, collided with defender Mike Windischmann in the penalty area. The defensive miscommunication left Hermen Benitez alone with an open net. He didn't miss. The match was level at 2-2, Ecuador having erased a two-goal deficit through persistence and American errors. "You cannot allow goals of that nature," Panagoulias said, the frustration evident.

Another note from this match was the international debut of Eddie Hawkins, who started in defense. He became the first American-born black player to play with the U.S. national team. Ecuador finished the match outshooting the Americans 13-to-6, the statistical disparity telling the same story Guatemala had told in October: the United States could compete in spurts but couldn't dictate 90 minutes against competent international opposition. Sharp's deflected goal and Ladouceur's opportunistic finish were gifts as much as achievements.

"We have to acquire the skill of dictating the flow of a match," Panagoulias explained, articulating the central problem. "What that means is we have to be able to run and attack when we're ready to do so, and we must learn how to slow the pace down when the attack is put to us. We didn't do a good job of that today."

The coach understood what the results demanded he acknowledge: the Columbus Cup victory had been real but limited in its meaning. Guatemala and Mexico had exposed technical deficiencies. The two matches against Ecuador had revealed tactical immaturity—the inability to manage a match psychologically, to recognize when to press and when to consolidate.

DuBose, who'd recorded three saves before giving way to Swanner, offered a more nuanced assessment. "We can easily reach the third round," he said, referring to the May matches against Trinidad and Tobago and Costa Rica. "To go beyond that, we'll need the players with professional experience. Our young guys have done well, but to reach the finals, you have to play teams more skilled than Ecuador."

The United States hadn't reached the World Cup final round since 1950, when that legendary team had shocked England in Belo Horizonte. 34 years had passed. The Columbus Cup trophy sitting in some federation office couldn't change that history, couldn't bridge the gap between American ambition and international reality.

But 1984 ended with clarity about what needed to happen in 1985. The second round awaits—Trinidad and Tobago on May 15 and 19, Costa Rica on May 26 and 31. A round-robin format where the winner would advance to the third round, one step closer to Mexico. The Americans would need Davis and the other MISL veterans available. They would need Panagoulias to solve the tactical puzzle of dictating matches rather than surviving them.

Five months remained until the next meaningful match. Five months to turn the education delivered by Guatemala, Mexico, and Ecuador into wisdom. The 2-2 draw in Miami closed the book on 1984—a year that had begun with promise, delivered both triumph and humiliation, and ended with the most dangerous thing American soccer could possess as it looked toward 1985: hope tempered by reality, ambition chastened by experience, and the faint outline of a path forward through the Caribbean heat awaiting them in May.