On This Day in 2004, the U.S. Survived El Salvador's Chaos to Edge Closer to Germany
The dramatic rescues in Kingston and Panama City had established a pattern—this American generation refused to fold under pressure. But Bruce Arena understood that surviving late-game chaos represented only half of qualifying's equation. The other half required navigating the peculiar volatility of Central American road venues, where hostile crowds, questionable officiating, and deteriorating playing surfaces could derail even the most talented squads.
El Salvador's Estadio Cuscatlán awaited on October 9, a concrete cauldron nestled among San Salvador's ramshackle neighborhoods where visiting players had been spat upon, pelted with batteries and coins, and subjected to projectiles far more disturbing. Yet Arena's concerns extended beyond the physical dangers. The Salvadorans occupied last place in Group A with just three points, having fired coach Juan Paredes after a 3-0 humiliation against Jamaica. New manager Armando Contreras Palma had overhauled the lineup with seven changes, making El Salvador unpredictable in the most dangerous way—desperate teams with nothing to lose.
"I expect the unexpected," Arena admitted after training at the stadium. "They have a new coach and a number of new players—it's anyone's guess what will happen."
The mathematics remained straightforward: a victory would position the United States to clinch advancement to the six-nation final round with a subsequent win over Panama. But qualifiers in Central America rarely followed script. Eddie Pope and Cobi Jones were the only Americans on the roster who had experienced the 1-1 draw here in 1997, a charged atmosphere that forward Brian McBride remembered vividly despite watching from the bench. The stadium's capacity of 40,000 might draw only between 5,000 and 20,000 fans given El Salvador's precarious position, but even a sparse crowd in Cuscatlán could generate intimidation.
"A one-goal lead isn't going to be enough," McBride predicted before kickoff. "You just have to prepare yourself for the craziest atmosphere possible."
Arena deployed an aggressive, offense-minded lineup that signaled his intentions: McBride partnered with Josh Wolff in attack, flanked by Landon Donovan and Clint Mathis, with DaMarcus Beasley and Kerry Zavagnin controlling midfield. The Americans immediately pressed their quality advantage, nearly opening the scoring in the sixth minute when McBride converted, only for an offside call against Wolff to erase the goal. Mathis squandered another excellent opportunity in the 15th minute, receiving Beasley's service but failing to connect cleanly.
The breakthrough finally arrived in the 29th minute, courtesy of the veteran presence Arena had relied upon throughout his tenure. Zavagnin delivered a pass to McBride on the left flank, where the Columbus Crew forward used his body to shield defender Victor Velasquez from the ball. What followed was a masterclass in composure under pressure. McBride faked his shot once, drawing the defense. He faked again as they recovered, causing them to overcommit a second time. Only on the third setup did he strike, beating goalkeeper Misael Alfaro to the far post for his 26th international goal.
"When I received the ball, I just tried to shield it and turn," McBride explained. "I faked the shot, and the second time I was going to hit it, but I faked again, and they fell off, and the ball set up for the third time, and I struck it pretty well."
The single-goal advantage that McBride had warned might prove insufficient held through the second half largely because goalkeeper Kasey Keller faced minimal pressure, making just two saves all evening. Playing without the injured Claudio Reyna, Donovan wore the captain's armband for the first time, shouldering the responsibility of orchestrating the American attack while managing the tempo that would preserve the lead.
In the 71st minute, Arena made a substitution that would create one of the most memorable moments in qualifying history. Eddie Johnson, the 20-year-old FC Dallas forward who had terrorized Major League Soccer defenses with 11 goals, entered the game for McBride in his first appearance with the senior national team. Just four minutes later, he delivered an announcement of his arrival.
Beasley initiated the sequence with a perfectly weighted pass to Donovan, who evaded defender Marvin Gonzalez before sending a low cross into the penalty area. Johnson, demonstrating the anticipation and positioning that marked elite forwards, had timed his run to arrive at the back post. From two yards out, he redirected the ball with his left foot into the open net, becoming the seventh player in United States history to score on his debut.
"I was lucky. I was in the right place at the right time," Johnson said, his modesty belying the significance of the moment. "I moved into the box, and Landon made a very unselfish play to pass the ball."
The 2-0 victory extended the United States' unbeaten streak to 11 matches and established an eight-point advantage at the top of Group A, three points clear of both Jamaica and Panama, who had played to a 1-1 draw in Panama City. More importantly, it accomplished what Arena had identified as essential: finishing the semifinal round without a single road defeat. The Americans could now clinch advancement with a victory over Panama on Wednesday in Washington, or even with a scoreless draw combined with an El Salvador victory over Jamaica.
For Johnson, the goal represented far more than a successful debut—it marked another step on a journey that seemed destined for the brightest stages of European soccer. His speed initially drew attention, but what made him genuinely special was the complete package: finishing ability, defensive headers, and an emerging composure in the penalty area that couldn't be taught. After dominating at the Under-17 level with 23 goals in 25 appearances and earning the Golden Shoe as top scorer at the 2003 FIFA World Youth Championship, Johnson had proven he belonged on bigger stages. European clubs had been monitoring him since his youth career, and Arena had specifically praised him as a "big-game" player when first inviting him to camp.
The 2006 World Cup in Germany loomed as the perfect springboard for Johnson's talents. If he continued developing—sharpening his first touch, improving his decision-making, maintaining mental focus—the Dallas product could become the first player the franchise ever produced for consistent national team duty. The goal against El Salvador suggested that transformation was already underway.
Yet the evening carried equal significance for the player on the opposite end of his international career. Jones earned his 164th cap in San Salvador, extending a United States men's record that would endure for years as a testament to his durability and consistency. From the 1992 Barcelona Olympics through three World Cups and multiple Gold Cup triumphs, the midfielder with the distinctive bleached dreadlocks—nicknamed "Escobillón" by an Argentine commentator who loved the similarity to the Spanish word for "swab"—had embodied American soccer's evolution from an international afterthought to a respected competitor.
His late equalizer against Panama just one month earlier had rescued the qualifying campaign from potential disaster. Now, as younger players like Johnson and Donovan assumed starring roles, Jones's final appearance symbolized the generational transition Arena had carefully managed. As the Americans departed Cuscatlán with all three points intact, they carried something more valuable than standings advantages or mathematical scenarios. They had demonstrated that their success wasn't dependent on dramatic late rescues or favorable circumstances. When required to impose their quality in hostile territory against desperate opposition, Arena's squad had responded with professional efficiency. The road to Germany was becoming clearer, one systematic victory at a time.