On This Day in 2004, Pope's Stoppage-Time Strike Sends the US Into Qualifying on a High
The win in Plock had answered one question. Could the United States compete and win on European soil? Yes, emphatically, for the first time since 1968. But a friendly against a Polish side, however meaningful in the moment, was not going to prepare Bruce Arena's squad for what was actually coming. The real education would take place in stadiums like the one awaiting them in Dallas.
The Cotton Bowl is a football ground by disposition, its most famous afternoon every October when Texas and Oklahoma settle their annual argument across the Red River. But on the evening of April 28, it belonged to fútbol, and to a crowd that had no particular interest in cheering for the home team. Arena knew what he was walking into. "We're used to that," he said of the anticipated atmosphere. "I think it's a good environment for our players to be around in preparation for the bigger games." Josh Wolff was more direct. "You might as well be playing away," he said. "It's going to be chaotic."
The chaos was structural. With CONCACAF qualifying set to open June 13 against Grenada in Columbus, Arena had assembled a squad of 17 MLS players—a domestic-heavy group that reflected both the calendar and the injury list. Cory Gibbs, the lone Dallas Burn representative who might have drawn a hometown cheer from the neutral corner of the building, was out with a groin problem. Dan Califf's knee kept him home, too. Colorado's Pablo Mastroeni and Ritchie Kotschau stepped in as replacements. Conor Casey, fresh off his debut against Poland in March, remained the sole European-based player in the group.
The stakes, unofficial as they were, felt anything but. Mexico was still carrying the sour taste of its 2-0 World Cup defeat two years earlier—a loss that had quietly reoriented the psychology of the rivalry. Though Mexico led the all-time series decisively, the Americans had won five of the previous seven meetings, each a shutout. Mexico hadn't scored against the US in 434 minutes of football coming into the Cotton Bowl. Landon Donovan, who had been on the field for that World Cup result, understood what that kind of futility does to a rival. "We beat them at the highest point of our career as soccer players," he said. "I'm sure they still think about it every now and then."
The match itself was a study in American patience tested to its absolute limit.
Mexico created the first real alarm when Hector Altamirano found space in the 13th minute and got his head on the ball with the goal open, but steered it harmlessly wide left. The early exchanges were even enough, with neither side willing to concede the physical battle the occasion demanded. DaMarcus Beasley, who had scored the winner in Plock just weeks earlier, had predicted before kickoff that there wouldn't be much pretty football on offer. "There's going to be a lot of scrappiness," he said. He was right.
The Americans gradually seized control as the first half wore on, with Donovan beginning to impose himself on the midfield. The best chance of the opening 45 came at the 33rd minute, when Donovan tracked a loose ball roughly 21 yards from goal and cracked a shot that flew to the far post, struck the underside of the crossbar, and came back out. Four minutes later, Mexican goalkeeper Oswaldo Sanchez made a leaping save to deny him again. The Americans were creating, but the goal simply wouldn't come.
The second half brought more anxiety. Mexico's clearest look arrived in the 55th minute, when Jared Borgetti found himself with a clear sight of an empty net after Jonny Walker had come out to cut off a Francisco Rodriguez drive, but Borgetti pulled his shot wide right, and the moment passed. Walker, making his first international start, would not be seriously threatened again. He didn't need to make a single save on the night, a fact that spoke as much to the American defensive organization as it did to Mexico's attacking struggles.
Sanchez, by contrast, was working. Twellman's header in the 75th minute, arriving from five yards outside the box, required a diving fingertip save that kept the scoreline level. The Americans were manufacturing chances; the Cotton Bowl crowd, overwhelmingly partisan and increasingly nervous, could sense which way the game was tilting. The US held a 14-3 advantage in shots and a 12-2 edge in corners. The result just hadn't caught up to the performance.
It did, finally, in the third minute of stoppage time, and it came in the way of things that are both improbable and completely earned. Donovan was brought down deep in the attacking corner, earning a free kick. Bobby Convey swung the ball into the box. Twellman got his head to it. Sanchez clawed it away. And there was Eddie Pope, arriving at the right moment at the right place, six yards out, tapping the rebound into the net.
The stadium erupted, and then, in the section of seats behind one of the goals, quite literally ignited. A small fire broke out across a few rows as the final whistle blew, quickly extinguished by security before anyone was hurt. It was a fittingly combustible end to a night that had never really been a friendly. "I was glad we were finally able to get that goal at the end," Donovan said, "because they didn't deserve to tie that game."
Pope was characteristically understated about a moment that had delivered his team something it badly needed. "It was a hard-fought game," he said. "We hung in there defensively. We created a lot of chances, and we deserved to win the game." Mexico coach Ricardo La Volpe had nothing to say afterward and declined to meet the press. Former Mexican international Jorge Campos, now on the coaching staff, offered the only public response, crediting American fortune rather than American quality. "The United States had that luck at the last minute," he said. "When a team has that type of luck, they can win in any minute."
The numbers told a different story. Mexico had now gone 514 minutes without scoring against the United States. The shutout was the fourth consecutive time the Americans had blanked their southern rivals. Walker's clean sheet in his international debut was the product of a defensive performance so complete that Mexico registered zero shots on target across 90 minutes. That doesn't happen by luck.
For a squad playing without most of its European-based regulars, the victory carried a pointed internal message. The Haiti tie in March had rattled confidence in the domestic contingent. This result answered that doubt cleanly. "Our performance against Haiti was poor," Donovan said. "If we wanted a spot on this roster for qualifying, we needed to demonstrate to Bruce Arena that we could play." Consider it demonstrated.
One match now remained before the team started its road to Germany. Honduras would come to Foxboro on June 2 as the final tuneup. Then, 11 days later, the real thing would begin—Grenada in Columbus, the opening act of a CONCACAF qualifying campaign that would consume the summer and define the program's trajectory. The Americans had won in Poland. They had won at the Cotton Bowl, in front of 45,000 people who had come hoping to see the opposite. The questions were getting answered one at a time. The biggest ones were still ahead.
