The United States was shown its opponents at Friday's 2026 FIFA World Cup ceremony in Washington, D.C., learning they will face Australia, Paraguay, and a European playoff qualifier in Group D.
Currently ranked No. 14 globally, the Americans appear well-positioned to advance from a group many consider manageable. Australia, ranked 26th, has qualified for six consecutive World Cups but never advanced beyond the Round of 16. Paraguay, ranked 39th, returns to the tournament for the first time since reaching the 2010 quarterfinals. The final opponent will emerge from a March playoff between Turkey, Romania, Slovakia, or Kosovo.
The draw took place at the Kennedy Center, where sports legends Tom Brady, Wayne Gretzky, Aaron Judge, and Shaquille O'Neal participated in selecting the groups. At the same time, musical performances by Andrea Bocelli, Robbie Williams, and Lauryn Hill added to the spectacle, prolonging it.
For the USMNT, expectations are sky-high. Under head coach Mauricio Pochettino, who was hired following a disappointing Copa América exit, anything less than advancing from Group D would be considered a significant disappointment on home soil. The Americans will open their campaign against Paraguay on June 12 at SoFi Stadium in Inglewood, California, then face Australia on June 19 in Seattle and conclude group play on June 25 back in Inglewood.
The expanded 48-team format means the top two finishers from each group, plus eight third-place teams, will advance to the knockout rounds. With the United States hosting the majority of matches, including all games from the quarterfinals onward, the pressure is on Pochettino's squad to deliver a memorable performance that can elevate soccer's profile in America and finally break through against non-CONCACAF opposition.
Reyna and Scally Feature as Gladbach Secure One-Goal Win
Borussia Mönchengladbach secured a crucial 1-0 victory over bottom-placed Mainz on Friday, with USMNT players Joe Scally and Giovanni Reyna both featuring in the Matchday 13 opener. The match's decisive moment came in the 58th minute when Haris Tabaković's header deflected off Mainz defender Danny da Costa and looped into the net for an unfortunate own goal. It was Da Costa's first own goal in 212 Bundesliga appearances, proving the difference in a tightly contested affair.
Scally delivered a solid 90-minute performance at center back, showcasing his defensive reliability with eight clearances and four tackles while winning 80% of his ground duels. The 22-year-old American was heavily involved, recording 78 touches and completing five passes into the final third. He also drew three fouls as Mainz struggled to break down Gladbach's organized defense.
Reyna played 69 minutes in an attacking midfield role, demonstrating technical quality with a perfect dribbling record (2/2) and an 85% pass completion rate. The 23-year-old created one chance and completed all of his crosses. He also contributed defensively with two tackles and an interception, winning five of six ground duels before being substituted.
The first half proved cagey, with Gladbach coming closest when Jens Castrop's effort was cleared off the line. They thought they'd scored from the resulting corner, but VAR spotted a handball that negated another own goal. Mainz's best opportunity fell to debutant Fabio Moreno Fell, who struck both the crossbar and post in quick succession, though the play was ruled offside.
After Gladbach's breakthrough, Mainz pressed for an equalizer, with Nelson Weiper missing several quality chances. However, the visitors' defense, anchored by Scally, held firm to secure three points. The victory lifted Gladbach to ninth place, while Mainz remained rooted to the bottom with their winless league run extending to nine matches.
Tillman Versus Banks as Leverkusen Visit Struggling Augsburg
When Bayer Leverkusen travels to the WWK Arena this Saturday, the spotlight will shine on two young American talents navigating vastly different circumstances in the Bundesliga.
For Leverkusen's Malik Tillman, momentum continues to build following a challenging adaptation period at his new club. The 23-year-old midfielder has rediscovered the form that justified his significant transfer fee, recently netting a goal in the victory at Wolfsburg. After dealing with injuries and the swift departure of the manager who recruited him, Tillman is finally demonstrating his quality. While his brother Timothy represented the USMNT during the recent international window, Malik used the break to rest in Germany—a decision that appears to have served him well. His recent performances have shown increasing confidence and influence within Kasper Hjulmand's system.
Standing in Tillman's path is Augsburg's towering teenage defender, Noahkai Banks, one of American soccer's most intriguing emerging talents. The 18-year-old has earned seven consecutive Bundesliga starts, anchoring Augsburg's backline with a physical presence and technical sophistication that belies his age and limited top-flight experience. At 6-foot-4, Banks combines imposing stature with surprising composure on the ball. His strongest showing came in the recent victory over Hamburg, where he demonstrated the defensive qualities that could make him a solution to the USMNT's mounting center-back crisis, with Cameron Carter-Vickers sidelined until May.
The contrasting trajectories of their respective clubs frame Saturday's encounter. Augsburg dismissed head coach Sandro Wagner after enduring five defeats in six matches, turning to interim boss Manuel Baum for their final three fixtures before the winter break. The hosts share the Bundesliga's joint-worst defensive record, having conceded 27 goals across 12 matches, with four of their last five losses coming without scoring.
Leverkusen, meanwhile, is surging. Hjulmand's squad has won five of their last six across all competitions, including impressive triumphs over Manchester City in the Champions League and Borussia Dortmund in the DFB-Pokal. Currently sitting fourth with 23 points, they arrive as overwhelming favorites against 14th-placed Augsburg.
On This Day in 2011, Dempsey's Late Strike Breaks Liverpool Hearts and Makes American History at Craven Cottage
The late consolation at Newcastle had proven to be just that – a consolation. In the weeks that followed, Fulham's season continued to drift in troubling directions. Martin Jol's experimental blend of youth and experience wasn't gelling, and by early December, the Cottagers found themselves languishing in 15th place, just two points above the relegation zone. What had begun with such European promise in August had devolved into a grim domestic reality: just two home wins in nine Premier League matches, a meager 15 goals scored across 13 league games, and the growing sense that Jol's revolution might cost Fulham their top-flight status.
For Clint Dempsey, the individual form that had tormented Dnipro for two goals in August remained intact, even as his team struggled. He had found the net against QPR in that anomalous 6-0 thrashing and struck again at Wigan, but those moments of brilliance stood isolated against a backdrop of draws and defeats. During the November international break, he had added to his U.S. tally with a header in a foggy 3-2 victory over Slovenia in Ljubljana, moving him level with Joe-Max Moore for fourth on the American national team's all-time scoring list. Yet returning to Craven Cottage meant returning to uncertainty, where even the experienced heads of 34-year-old Danny Murphy and 31-year-old John Arne Riise couldn't provide consistent answers to Fulham's offensive struggles.
Liverpool arrived on that cold December 5 evening riding an 11-match unbeaten streak and hunting a club record seventh consecutive away victory. Kenny Dalglish's side had banked more points on the road than at Anfield, and with the quick feet of Luis Suárez, the physicality of Andy Carroll, and the bite of Craig Bellamy, they looked capable of extending both runs. What the Merseysiders didn't anticipate was a match that would turn on controversy, a goalkeeper's error, and the predatory instincts of an American striker chasing history.
The game meandered through its opening stages like the Thames flowing past Craven Cottage, both sides feeling each other out on a freezing night. Liverpool enjoyed the better of possession, their attacking trio probing Fulham's veteran defense. Tempers flared early in the second half when Dempsey lost his composure after a challenge from Bellamy. The American pushed his face alarmingly close to the Welshman's, a dangerous provocation that could have earned him a red card. Referee Kevin Friend brought the pair together for what might charitably be called peace talks, booking both players but allowing Dempsey to remain on the pitch – a decision that would prove pivotal.
The match's defining moment arrived in the 72nd minute, though not through the brilliance anyone expected. Jay Spearing, Liverpool's young midfielder filling in for the injured Lucas Leiva, went in hard on Mousa Dembélé. The challenge was committed, Spearing winning the ball cleanly with his right foot, but his momentum carried him forward, studs raised, catching the Fulham midfielder in the follow-through. Friend reached for his red card without hesitation. The Liverpool contingent erupted in protest, Bellamy leading the charge, arguing that Spearing's tackle – aggressive but arguably not malicious – merited at most a yellow card.
The sending-off transformed Craven Cottage. What had been a tight, tense affair suddenly opened up as Fulham sensed opportunity. They poured forward toward the Hammersmith End with newfound urgency. Liverpool, meanwhile, refused to retreat into their shell. Stewart Downing bent a strike onto Fulham's post, and Charlie Adam repeatedly drove forward, trying to drag his 10 men level through sheer will.
Then came the 85th minute, and with it, the kind of error that haunts goalkeepers through sleepless nights. Murphy, drifting down the left channel, cut inside Glen Johnson and unleashed a speculative effort from distance. It was hardly unstoppable—the kind of shot Reina had dealt with countless times in his Liverpool career. But this time, inexplicably, the Spanish keeper's hands failed him. The ball squirmed free, spilling directly into the path of Dempsey, who had positioned himself exactly where a natural goalscorer should be. From close range, the American couldn't miss. He tapped home, wheeling away in celebration as Craven Cottage erupted.
The goal meant more than three points. With his 37th Premier League strike, Dempsey had surpassed Brian McBride to become the most prolific American goalscorer in English top-flight history. McBride, a Fulham legend who had captained the Cottagers and embodied what Americans could achieve in the Premier League, had set a standard that seemed untouchable. Now his former teammate had eclipsed it, writing another chapter in the story of American players conquering English football's highest level.
Liverpool threw everything forward in the dying minutes, desperate to salvage something from their evening. Adam charged upfield repeatedly, and Schwarzer was forced into a late scramble to repel a final bombardment. Andrew Johnson nearly sealed it on the counter but fired wide. When Friend's whistle finally sounded, Jol thrust his arms skyward while Dalglish stood stone-faced on the touchline, lamenting the marginal decisions that had gone against his side—Suárez's disallowed goal that replays showed was onside, Philippe Senderos escaping a second yellow card for hauling down Carroll, and Adam potentially denied a penalty.
For Fulham, the victory provided more than just breathing room in the table, lifting them to 13th and six points clear of danger. It offered validation of Jol's faith in his experienced core. The Cottagers would ride this momentum into the Christmas period, Dempsey adding another header against Bolton twelve days later before equalizing in the West London derby against Chelsea on Boxing Day.
As December unfolded and Fulham's season found steadier footing, Dempsey's winner against Liverpool stood as the pivotal moment—the night when individual brilliance, controversy, and a goalkeeper's mistake combined to make history. One tap-in from five yards might not have possessed the technical magnificence of some goals. Still, it carried the weight of legacy, moving Dempsey past an American icon and reminding everyone at Craven Cottage why he remained the player they looked to when all seemed uncertain.
On This Day in 1993, Four Goals From an Unlikely Source Couldn't Mask the Deeper Questions About American Readiness
The week after Fullerton had provided temporary relief—eight goals against the Cayman Islands on November 14, the most in American soccer history since 1885, a deluge that washed away months of finishing frustration in a single afternoon. Dominic Kinnear and Joe-Max Moore had each scored twice. Mark Chung added two more. The scoreline felt like vindication, proof that the Americans could finish when given space to operate. But the opposition—a Caribbean nation playing its first match against the United States, missing its best players, overmatched from the opening whistle—made the performance impossible to evaluate. It was goal-scoring therapy, not preparation.
The mathematics had improved marginally: 8-11-12 (WDL) after the Jamaica win, 9-11-12 after the Cayman Islands. But the pattern remained unchanged. Against organized defenses willing to concede possession and pack numbers behind the ball, the Americans struggled to create quality chances. Against overmatched opponents who couldn't maintain defensive shape, they could score freely. The World Cup would feature neither scenario exclusively. It would demand the ability to break down teams that would sit deep and force the issue. The composure to withstand pressure from teams that would attack with technical quality was something the Cayman Islands couldn't imagine.
By December, two matches remained before the calendar turned. El Salvador would arrive at the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum on December 5, presenting another opponent more interested in survival than competition. Then came Germany at Stanford Stadium on December 18—the real test, the defending World Cup champions arriving to deliver the lesson the Americans desperately needed before roster decisions hardened into World Cup reality.
The El Salvador match unfolded exactly as the coaching staff expected and secretly feared. The visitors fielded a makeshift squad featuring just two players from their World Cup qualifying team, filling the rest of the roster with under-21 players who lacked the international experience to trouble organized opponents. Before 7,618 spectators, the Americans controlled possession completely, created chances with maddening regularity, and finished with clinical efficiency that had been absent against legitimate competition.
Moore, a 5-foot-8 midfielder being deployed at center forward for just his third international start, dismantled El Salvador's loose defensive shape with four goals—the first American to accomplish that feat since Archie Stark scored four times against Canada in 1925. Moore's first two came in the opening half, capitalizing on space that simply wouldn't exist against competent defenders. His positioning was intelligent, his finishing assured, but the opportunities themselves revealed more about El Salvador's disorganization than American attacking sophistication. "I had a lot of opportunities in the box today," Moore acknowledged afterward, the understatement capturing both his performance and its limited significance. "I'm just so happy we could score seven goals. This should give us a boost going into our game against Germany."
The boost felt hollow even as it materialized. Kinnear added two more goals, continuing his recent scoring form. Hugo Perez—born in El Salvador, now representing the country that had granted him opportunity—scored once against his homeland, the personal narrative more compelling than the tactical insight. The final tally reached 7-0, the Americans registering 27 shots to El Salvador's solitary effort on goal. The statistics documented dominance without revealing readiness. "I am proud with the score and nothing more," Bora Milutinovic admitted, his candor cutting through any temptation to celebrate. "We do not play a good game."
The coach understood the trap these mismatches created. The team desperately needed to solve its finishing crisis, but scoring seven against El Salvador's under-21 squad provided no evidence they could break down the Swiss at the Silverdome or the Romanians at the Rose Bowl. The European-based players who might elevate the attack—Roy Wegerle, Earnie Stewart, Eric Wynalda—remained with their clubs, training at levels these domestic exhibitions couldn't replicate. The Americans were refining a formula without access to their best ingredients.
One genuine positive emerged from the December afternoon: Marcelo Balboa returned. The veteran sweeper, who had suffered a catastrophic knee injury on April 17 and wasn't expected to recover until sometime in 1994, entered in the 61st minute. His mere presence on the field represented a triumph over medical projections, as his 76th international appearance tied him with Tony Meola for second on the all-time American list. "It felt fine," Balboa said of his reconstructed knee. "I had butterflies, but it was fun. Great."
The butterflies mattered more than the scoreline. With Fernando Clavijo and Cle Kooiman still recovering from their own knee surgeries, with Paul Caligiuri and Peter Vermes sidelined, Balboa's return stabilized a defensive corps that had been improvised by necessity. If the Americans were going to advance from their World Cup group, they needed Balboa's experience and positioning. His return timeline, accelerated beyond reasonable expectation, provided the coaching staff one fewer crisis to manage.
The record improved to 10-11-12, a symmetry that captured American soccer's position: balanced precariously between competence and mediocrity, capable of neither sustained success nor complete collapse. Two blowout victories did not answer the essential questions about finishing against organized opponents. The injury crisis had been partially resolved, but the European-based players remained unavailable. Time was running out, and the final test of 1993 would reveal exactly how unprepared the Americans actually were.
Germany arrived at Stanford Stadium on December 18 with the defending World Cup champions determined to erase recent disappointing results against Brazil and Argentina, and they delivered the physical lesson the Americans needed. Before 52,397 spectators, Stefan Kuntz grounded Jeff Agoos with an elbow in the opening minutes, establishing terms the Americans rarely experienced in domestic exhibitions, and their legs accumulated bruises that told stories statistics couldn't capture. The Americans held through grit and German inefficiency, trailing just 1-0 through 78 minutes before two German corner kicks produced two headed goals—the set-piece vulnerability that tactical adjustments couldn't eliminate—and a late breakaway completed the 3-0 defeat. "You should see our legs," Alexi Lalas said afterward, his voice mixing admiration with resignation. "If this is what they do in a friendly game, it's tenfold in the World Cup. They were kicking us all over the field. That's why they're the best in the world."
The day after the Stanford Stadium match, the World Cup draw convened in Las Vegas, a 90-minute extravaganza featuring James Brown and Barry Manilow that would determine whether the Americans' year of troubled preparation would prove sufficient. When the selections concluded, the United States found itself grouped with Colombia—which had demolished Argentina 5-0 during qualifying—with Switzerland, which had defeated and tied Italy, and with Romania, possessing all the threat of higher-profile European teams without the glamour.
"Believe me, if this thing was fixed, it wouldn't be fixed with Colombia in the U.S. group," Alan Rothenberg admitted, his dark humor acknowledging the draw's severity. The Americans would open against Switzerland at the Silverdome on June 18, return to the Rose Bowl for Colombia on June 22, and then face Romania on June 26. Advance to the round of 16, and the year's struggles would be forgiven. Exit after three matches, and every finishing crisis, every injury, every missed opportunity for European-based players to train together would be catalogued as failure.
Standing in Las Vegas, processing the draw that would define American soccer's future, the coaching staff understood their peculiar inheritance from 1993. They had integrated European training principles at the Mission Viejo facility. They had survived catastrophic injuries that would have devastated teams with less organizational depth. They had scored seven against El Salvador and eight against the Cayman Islands, proving they could finish when given space to do so. They had held Germany to 1-0 through 78 minutes, proving they could defend when motivated by desperation.
What they hadn't discovered was whether any of this mattered. Whether set-piece reliability and defensive organization could compensate for finishing inconsistency. Whether physical resilience could overcome technical limitations. Whether a team that had spent the year preparing separately—European-based stars with their clubs, domestic players at Mission Viejo, injured veterans in rehabilitation—could cohere into World Cup competitiveness when assembled in June.
The answer would determine whether the United States merely participated in their home World Cup or actually competed for advancement. As the closing days of December approached, they reflected on a year that had stripped away the romanticism of international preparation, revealed both systematic progress and persistent problems, and left the essential question unanswered: Were they good enough? June would tell.
