Dempsey turns disappointment into inspiration

	Upset at being stuck in the States, Clint Dempsey used his anger into leading the Revolution to the MLS final. Steve Grayson/WireImage.com
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A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about Fulham striker Brian McBride and what it means to American soccer that this square-jawed kid from Illinois is enjoying a season to remember in England. But a few readers got their knickers in a twist because I wrote that he's not the kind of player fans will love. They will cheer for him, admire him, aspire to be like him. But they do not want to be him because he's a craftsman, a very fine one, but he's not an artist, and history belongs to the artists.

But like the rest of us descendents of Italia '90 -- the generation of U.S. soccer players who took came of age in the aftermath of the U.S. national team's World Cup appearance in 1990 -- McBride has been waiting for the first artist to arrive. 

Finally, he has. Clint Dempsey should get his work permit and suit up alongside McBride for Fulham this weekend. And I, for one, am finally ready to love an American player.

I'm sure this will come as a surprise to Dempsey himself. For the past two years, I've worked as the TV analyst for the New England Revolution, and I've watched and criticized every game he's played. It hasn't always been positive. I've called him out on occasions, like when he elbowed Kansas City's Jimmy Conrad, for which he earned a suspension, or when he tried to upstage or play down to his opponent. And I've wondered aloud if he was ready for the transatlantic leap he so publicly demanded.

But the scruffy, scrappy kid from Nacogdoches, Texas has proved he can be an X-factor in every game he plays. He's got all the game tools that can't be taught: size, speed, touch and the vision to see plays others can't. Plus, he's got that much-ballyhooed snot-nosed attitude, which ultimately gives him an edge because on the field he's fearless.

For me, though, there is a moment that will forever in my memory. A moment that would make anyone -- even a critic -- love the kid.

It took place in Columbus in early September. The Revolution stood at 7-7-11, by no means guaranteed a spot in the playoffs. They had won 1-0 the week before at home to the same Columbus Crew team, their first victory in six games. During the previous month, Dempsey had not played well. He was tired from the World Cup and perhaps stressed by the suddenly higher expectations for him after he scored that thunderous goal against Ghana. But in Columbus, whatever momentum the Revs had from the win the week earlier was entirely dashed as the Revs fell behind 3-0.

With 15 minutes to go and the result already decided, Dempsey suddenly found another gear. He chased down defenders, challenged for every ball, even pulled out a few stopovers. It was a lost cause but he played the best 15 minutes of his '06 season during that hopeless quarter hour.

It was as if he realized in those moments he needed to carry the team.

And he did. The Revs didn't lose again during the regular season, then went all the way to the MLS Cup final, where they lost in penalties. 

I asked him about it later, and Dempsey said he channeled his anger about not transferring in August into something positive. It's what he's been doing his whole life -- transforming his anger and pain into something beautiful. Just like any artist does.

If some beer-bellied Fulham fan came up and asked me what to expect, I'd tell him: Don't expect another McBride. Expect even more.