Adams's Heroics in Lisbon

On This Day in 2020, the American's Late Strike Sent RB Leipzig to Their First Champions League Semifinal

Tyler Adams's journey to European football had started with promise. After joining RB Leipzig in January 2019, reuniting with former Red Bulls coach Jesse Marsch, the young American quickly found his footing in the Bundesliga. His first league start came within weeks—a commanding 4-0 victory over Fortuna Düsseldorf—and by February, he had registered his first assist in German football during a 3-1 win against Stuttgart. Most remarkably, Leipzig hadn't lost a single match with Adams on the field.

But Adams' second season in Germany would test his resolve like never before. A groin injury that began in summer 2019 sidelined him for months, keeping him out of the entire first half of the 2019-20 campaign. When he finally returned for the last game before winter break—86 minutes in a victory over Augsburg—it felt like a fresh start. His Champions League debut had come dramatically during Leipzig's 3-0 victory over Tottenham in the Round of 16 second leg in mid-March, entering as a substitute after Nordi Mukiele suffered a head injury. Then everything stopped as the COVID-19 pandemic suspended German football just as Adams was finding his rhythm again. 

When play resumed behind closed doors in May, the midfielder faced a compressed schedule and an uncertain European campaign. In June, the tournament was relocated to Lisbon and restructured as a single-elimination format to be played after domestic seasons wrapped up in early August. Adams played in every match down the stretch of the Bundesliga season, mostly coming off the bench. RB Leipzig only lost once in the final nine matches, sealing a third-place finish. Now, Adams and Leipzig faced their biggest test yet.

On August 13, that test came in the form of Atlético Madrid—a club chasing their third Champions League final in six years under Diego Simeone's pragmatic guidance. What unfolded at the Estádio da Luz would become the defining moment of Adams' European career to that point. The match began as many expected it would. Atlético, true to their defensive nature, sat back and absorbed pressure while Leipzig's attacking approach struggled to find the cutting edge they'd lost with Timo Werner's summer departure to Chelsea. The German side dominated possession but lacked the clinical finishing that had characterized their breakthrough season.

Leipzig's persistence paid off early in the second half when Dani Olmo met Marcel Sabitzer's precise cross with a deft header beyond Jan Oblak. For 20 minutes, Julian Nagelsmann's side looked destined for the semifinals. Then João Félix, Atlético's £100 million substitute, won and converted a penalty to level the match at 1-1. Atlético's tails were up following the equalizer, and Leipzig faced a sustained period of pressure. Carrasco went close twice, forcing another save from Gulácsi on one occasion, as Simeone's side sensed their opportunity. Yet as the clock ticked toward 90 minutes, the Spanish manager appeared content to let the tie drift toward extra time—a calculated risk that would prove costly.

In the 72nd minute, Nagelsmann turned to his bench, bringing on Adams with specific instructions. "When I put you on the pitch, try to decide the game," the young German coach had told him. Adams, who had started the day disappointed at not being in the starting eleven, was ready for his moment. With two minutes remaining, that moment arrived through a sequence that embodied Leipzig's patient buildup play. 

Sabitzer's brilliant throughball picked out Angelino on the left flank, and the marauding wing-back squared the ball perfectly to Adams at the edge of the penalty area. The American, still searching for his first Leipzig goal after 20 months at the club, didn't hesitate. His low shot appeared to be drifting wide until it struck Savic's heels, deflecting past the helpless Oblak and into the net. 

"I'm not a typical goalscorer," Adams said afterward, but score he had—becoming the first American to find the net this late in Champions League knockout play. “The coach gave me specific instructions what to do and how to be dangerous and I went in and executed them. It’s a surreal feeling.” The goal sent Leipzig to their first-ever Champions League semifinal and wrote another chapter in the remarkable story of a club founded just 11 years earlier. Even in the dying moments, Atlético nearly found an equalizer. Álvaro Morata had a golden opportunity deep into added time, but the combination of Upamecano and Gulácsi denied the Spanish striker as Leipzig held on for their historic victory.

The victory marked a seismic achievement for Leipzig—they became the first German club outside Bayern Munich and Borussia Dortmund to reach a Champions League semifinal since Schalke in 2011. For a club founded just 11 years earlier, it represented validation of their rapid ascent through German football's hierarchy. Leipzig's European dream would end five days later in a 3-0 semifinal defeat to Paris Saint-Germain, but Adams' deflected strike had already secured his place in the club's brief but remarkable history. 

The goal also held deeper significance for Atlético, ending their hopes of returning to the final for the first time since 2016 and marking the first time they had failed to progress against a German opponent in Champions League knockout play. From Red Bulls academy prospect to Champions League goalscorer, the midfielder's journey embodied the kind of development pathway that made both New York and Leipzig successful—patient nurturing combined with the courage to seize crucial moments when they arrived. In the sterile atmosphere of Lisbon's closed-door tournament, Adams had authored one of the most memorable American moments in Champions League history.

Big Qualifying Win Over Jamaica

On This Day in 1988, Perez Led the US to a Convincing Victory in a Make-Or-Break Moment to Advance at the CONCACAF Championships

The scrutiny had been relentless ever since FIFA's shocking announcement the previous month. The United States, a soccer backwater where the sport ranked somewhere behind bowling in the national consciousness, would host the 1994 World Cup. Critics worldwide questioned the decision, and suddenly every match carried the weight of justification. For Lothar Osiander's national team, the path to credibility ran through the most unlikely of obstacles: a two-legged qualifying series against Jamaica. In this nation, soccer played second fiddle to cricket.

The Americans had traveled to Kingston in July with cautious optimism, knowing that advancement to the final qualifying round would validate their World Cup hosting credentials. What they discovered in the oppressive Caribbean heat was a Jamaica team that refused to be intimidated. Playing without injured stars Brent Goulet and Hugo Perez, the US managed only a frustrating 0-0 draw at National Stadium. The scoreless result left Osiander's men facing an uncomfortable truth: they would need to win at home in St. Louis, or risk the kind of early elimination that would give ammunition to every critic who questioned America's soccer ambitions.

"If you can't beat Jamaica, you must pack it in," Osiander had declared before the first leg, words that now carried an ominous weight. The coach understood the stakes better than anyone. A loss would not only end World Cup dreams but potentially derail the entire American soccer project. Sponsors were waiting to see results before committing to the 1994 tournament. Players were playing without club contracts, surviving on hope and the promise of a professional future that seemed increasingly fragile.

The return leg at St. Louis Soccer Park on August 13 drew a sellout crowd of 6,100, an intimate gathering that would witness either triumph or disaster. Osiander had his full arsenal available this time, with Perez healthy enough to contribute despite persistent leg problems. The coach's tactical plan was simple: overwhelm Jamaica with pace and precision, then let superior conditioning take over in the final third of the match.

The Americans burst from the gates with the urgency of a team that understood its precarious position. In the 18th minute, that early pressure yielded dividends when Peter Vermes whipped in a dangerous cross from the right flank. Brian Bliss, arriving perfectly at the near post, buried his first-time finish from eight yards to give the home side a crucial advantage. The goal energized both team and crowd, creating the atmosphere of inevitability that had been missing in Kingston's stifling heat.

But Jamaica possessed the resilience that had carried them through decades of international football on shoestring budgets. Nine minutes into the second half, with the Americans perhaps growing complacent, disaster struck. Alton Sterling stepped up to a free kick just outside the penalty area and curled a magnificent effort past David Vanole from 19 yards. The stadium fell silent as the reality hit home: Jamaica needed only this draw to advance, while the Americans faced the prospect of watching the 1990 World Cup from home.

For 14 agonizing minutes, American soccer's future hung in the balance. Players who had sacrificed stable careers for the uncertain promise of international football could feel their dreams slipping away. "There was a lot of pressure put on us," Bruce Murray would later reflect. "They were saying to us that if we didn't win, sponsorships were all out the window and we would have to wait until 1991 to play competitively again."

Osiander's halftime substitution of Perez proved to be the defining decision. The El Salvadoran-born playmaker, still nursing his leg injury, immediately began asserting himself in ways that the first leg had sorely missed. "At halftime, I told our players to find Hugo with the ball, and let him distribute it," Osiander explained. With Perez pulling the strings, the American attack gained the unpredictability it had lacked throughout the qualifying campaign.

The breakthrough came in the 67th minute through a moment of individual brilliance that bordered on gamesmanship. Perez, driving toward the penalty area with trademark determination, cut past Jamaican defender Dave Brooks. The challenge that followed was borderline, but Canadian referee David Brummitt pointed to the spot without hesitation. "Let's just say Hugo got a 9.8 on that dive," Osiander would joke afterward, though he maintained it was a legitimate penalty.

Standing over the ball with 6,100 voices urging him forward, Perez felt the full weight of American soccer history on his shoulders. "I was thinking about how this kick would change the future of the United States," he recalled. "It made me more nervous, but I wanted the responsibility." Paul Campbell, Jamaica's goalkeeper, leaned slightly to his right in anticipation. Perez noticed the movement and drove his shot high into the opposite corner, sparking pandemonium in the stands and relief on the American bench.

The penalty goal transformed the dynamic entirely. Jamaica, already exhausted from their brutal travel schedule and playing with the heart of part-time professionals, found themselves chasing a game against opponents who had discovered their rhythm at the perfect moment. The floodgates opened with devastating efficiency. Frank Klopas, the Chicago Sting veteran who understood the stakes better than most, doubled the advantage in the 78th minute with a perfectly weighted chip that showcased the technical ability American soccer was finally beginning to develop. Three minutes later, he struck again, this time converting a cross from the tireless Murray to effectively seal Jamaica's fate. Paul Krumpe's header in the 86th minute completed the rout, turning what had been a nail-biting qualifier into a comprehensive 5-1 statement victory.

As the final whistle echoed through St. Louis Soccer Park, the significance of the moment was not lost on anyone in American colors. This was more than just beating Jamaica or advancing to the final qualifying round – this was the match that kept the American soccer dream alive. "It means I have a job for two more years," goalkeeper Vanole observed with characteristic directness as he entered the victorious locker room.

The five-goal outburst represented the highest American output in 20 years, but the real victory was organizational. Within hours of the final whistle, the U.S. Soccer Federation announced a revolutionary decision: they would sign key players to national team contracts, providing modest salaries that would allow the core group to focus solely on international football. The era of hastily assembled pickup teams was ending, replaced by something approaching professional stability.

"We want most of these players to have the U.S. team as their primary form of income," declared Sunil Gulati, chairman of the federation's international games committee. It was an acknowledgment that American soccer could no longer rely on part-time commitment to compete on the world stage. The victory secured passage to the final CONCACAF qualifying round, where five teams would compete in a home-and-away round-robin format for two spots in Italy. More importantly, it validated the federation's ambitious plans and silenced, at least temporarily, the critics who questioned America's readiness to host the world's most prestigious tournament.

For players like Klopas, who had scored twice in the crucial final moments, the match represented a career-defining breakthrough. "This was probably the most important game of my career," he reflected. "If we lost this, after we played in the Olympics, the next three years would have been nothing." The road ahead remained treacherous, with Olympic competition in Seoul looming and the final qualifying gauntlet still to navigate. But on a humid August evening in Missouri, American soccer had proven it belonged in the conversation. The future that had seemed so uncertain just hours before now stretched ahead with genuine possibility, built on the foundation of a penalty kick that changed everything.