Complete performance brings back U.S. confidence

	Pre-penalty kick routine aside, Landon Donovan performed admirably for the U.S. AP
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OK, all you pessimistic doomsdayers out there (I'm looking at you, Jonah Freedman), you can settle down now and go back to your games of D&D. Or your oenology studies. Or whatever it is you do when you're not complaining about the U.S. national team's failure to run up the score on some CONCACAF midget.

On Tuesday night, the U.S. showed its class in an efficient 4-0 victory over an overmatched El Salvador side that packed it in from the opening whistle.

And now the Stars and Stripes are through to the quarterfinals of the Gold Cup, winners of Group B, undefeated and unscored upon. Not that there isn't a lot to say.

Let's begin with the formation. There's been a lot of chatter about what the U.S. formation is exactly. Is it a 4-3-2-1? A 4-2-2-2? Who cares? Formations these days are all hogwash, as an old English teacher of mine used to say. They're a suggestion, not really fast-and-true blueprint. Truth is, the U.S. used a modified 4-4-2 against El Salvador, the same formation Chelsea has used so well in the English Premier League.

You've got a flat back four, a central box in the midfield made up of honest players with enough talent to move the ball in transition to the attack and two strikers. It leaves a lot of space on the flanks for either the wing backs to run into or for Landon Donovan and Clint Dempsey to attack with diagonal runs. It's about ball movement and selflessness and defensive pressure.

That was the real key on Tuesday. The defensive pressure from the U.S., except for about 15 minutes in the second half, was relentless. Michael Bradley and Pablo Mastroeni did the dirty work in the middle and DaMarcus Beasley and Benny Feilhaber finessed the attacking flow.

But defensive pressure in the midfield is only as good as the marking in the back. Which brings me to Michael Parkhurst. The Rhode Island native earned just his second cap, but he was directing the defense. Honestly, he looked as composed as Italian legend Franco Baresi.

"Franco Baresi?!?" you're most likely yelling. "Get off the ouzo, Greg."

Well, sure, it's an absurd comparison. But I've watched Parkhurst a lot over the past few years, and he's got it. No matter what the level, what the competition, what the circumstances, he's got it. And the reason you probably think I'm sucking on a bottle with my over-the-top Baresi-isms is because you can't remember one thing Parkhurst did.

That's the thing. You don't see him. You don't notice him. Until you realize he hasn't been beaten, hasn't given up possession -- unlike his central defense partner Oguchi Onyewu, whose clumsy display showed exactly why he's having such a hard time finding a team -- and hasn't put any of his teammates in a bind. He's a throwback center back, and he's going to be one of the best the U.S. ever produces. Mark my words.

Then again, I wouldn't mark my words, if I were you. Because midway through the first half, I was shouting at the TV for U.S. head coach Bob Bradley to yank Beasley. Early on, his passes were as accurate as a dart from world champion Phil Taylor -- unfortunately they went straight to Salvadorean feet. He dribbled like a rhinoceros.

And then he goes and scores a brace. (Exhibit No. 451 as to why I'm not the national-team coach.)

But really, he was taking advantage of the work that Donovan and Dempsey did. They were awesome. How great to see Dempsey back and doing his cocksure, Denny Terrio dance/dribble thing at Gillette Stadium once again. He caused problems for El Salvador all night long.

And Donovan finally showed up. Then again, it is the national team. He always shows up for them. It's when he's with his MLS team that he can't do jack.

And what's with his pre-penalty kick routine? He kneels down, kisses his wrists, touches the grass, crosses himself. He looks like Nomar Garciaparra after a triple espresso. Let me quote one of my fellow SI.com writers, who called me at halftime and shall remain nameless: "Landon Donovan is the most ridiculous penalty taker in the world."

When he was lining up to take his second attempt, I tried to imagine what he thinks about: I wonder if Bianca would like some diamond earrings? What's going to happen to Alberto Gonzalez? When will Sebastian Bach rejoin Skid Row? Boy, do my wrists stink. If that's what he needs to get into the zone for one kick, what the hell does he have to do before the game? No wonder he's had so much trouble remaining consistent over his career.

But it must be said: He's pretty spot-on from the spot. In fact, Tuesday he was buzzing all over the place in the first 45 minutes, making diagonal runs behind the defense, surging into the box to attack crosses from the flanks, and playing off Dempsey.

It was nice to see Landon being Landon. He's not the heart and soul of the U.S. national team. He never was and he never will be, no matter how much the media and the fans wish it to be true. He's a scientist, almost, a clinical striker with the cold creativity and precision of an assassin. Maybe that's why he crosses himself so often. Asking for forgiveness as much as for luck.

I hope all the U.S. soccer doomsdayers out there are doing a similar thing right about now.