Why the U.S. needs Mexico to win

As the supposed giants of CONCACAF, Brian Ching (left) and the U.S. currently stand much taller than Carlos Salcido and Mexico. David E. Klutho/SI Greg Lalas's Mailbag Submit a comment or question for Greg. Name: Email: Hometown: Question: SEND

Life likes dualities: yin and yang, Democrat and Republican, Newton's Third Law of Motion (anyone remember it?). Sports does, too: Ali and Frazier, Celtics and Lakers, Lance Armstrong and the French media.

Every story needs both a protagonist and an antagonist (two words, by the way, with athletic roots, coming from the ancient Greek agon, which means "contest" -- agona is still the word for "match" in modern Greek) if anyone is going to care.

Which explains why I have become a big Mexico fan in the wake of the U.S.' 2-0 win over Mexico last week. We all need El Tri to resurrect itself.

Last week's game was the biggest soccer event in the U.S. in years, with massive media attention, fans flying in from across the country and a game that, though not a work of art, was enjoyable enough. The result, predictably, inspired a torrent of opinions. One, from a former U.S. international I spoke to, stuck out: Wow, Mexico is in a shambles right now.

I'm not sure I'd go that far, considering that five regular contributors, including three surefire starters, were missing from El Tri's squad last Wednesday. But he's got a point. Mexico was outplayed and outclassed (again), its most talented players failed it and it lacked any coherent strategy other than making sure its nemesis, Landon Donovan, didn't score. In the aftermath of the Carnage in Columbus, it's impossible not to wonder about the demise of the Mexican team.

Some would think this cause for celebration. Maybe pop a few Negro Modelos and offer an ironic toast to the end of El Tri as we know it.

But I, for one, am worried. Mexico's troubles do not bode well for CONCACAF or the U.S. The reality is, CONCACAF and the U.S. need Mexico to be good, need it to be a powerhouse, even. Otherwise, the entire region becomes the butt of a joke -- or, should I say, the bigger butt of a bigger joke than it already is -- in the eyes of the outside world. Europe and South America already consider CONCACAF weak, and if it becomes a big-fish-in-a-small-backwater, they'll view it as little better than Oceania was a few years ago.

Now before anyone gets their knickers in a twist, let me just say: Yes, I know CONCACAF consists of more than just the U.S. and Mexico. Yes, Costa Rica, Honduras and Trinidad and Tobago, among others, can be formidable opponents, especially when playing at home. But the outside world doesn't know about any of that or, frankly, care. Try telling an Italian that beating El Salvador on the road is a big win. He'll laugh and never offer you another glass of grappa.

This is all about perception, which plays into all kinds of decisions in the soccer world, such as friendly invitations and (ahem) World Cup bids. If CONCACAF is perceived as weak, then no matter how many times the U.S. -- or Costa Rica or Honduras, for that matter -- wins the Gold Cup or qualifies for the World Cup, respect will come.

Think about the example of Oceania: For decades, Australia was the perpetual king of the South Pacific, trouncing minuscule island nations by double digits (Australia beat American Samoa 31-0 in 2001). But no one took the Socceroos seriously as a soccer nation (which also might have had something to do with their nickname).

Furthermore, the Aussies weren't improving by munching on minnows all the time. So in '06, they jumped ship and joined the Asian Football Confederation, where they are now regularly tested by the likes of Japan and Iran.

This is the other danger inherent in Mexico's downfall: the competitive aspect. Since the start of 2000, the U.S. is 10-2-2 against Mexico. That's domination, people, which isn't good. The U.S. needs a strong-spined antagonist who can escalate the conflict in the later chapters, too. CONCACAF sides need to be tested consistently if they are going to improve and become more competitive on the global stage, such as at the World Cup and the Confederations Cup.

And, as I've said many times in this space, succeeding on the global stage is the ultimate goal for the U.S. national team. Every CONCACAF team, for that matter. By succeed, I mean, winning the World Cup at some point. If Mexico's troubles develop into a total collapse, that becomes as difficult as defying Newton's Third Law.

But here's the thing: I think Mexico will pull out of this crisis. This isn't new. It has a history of swirling in the muck, then suddenly finding its rhythm -- and a new manager -- and going on a tear. Plus, it has five upcoming home games, most of which will be played at Estadio Azteca, which is like a confidence-manufacturing plant for the Mexicans. Next month, when they host Costa Rica, they'll probably come out and put on a clinic, sending the Ticos back south with their tails between their legs. And when they do, I'll be cheering them on.

Extra time

If I read one more David-Beckham-to-AC Milan headline, I might hang myself with an Inter scarf. Regardless of the outcome, though, now comes the interesting second act for the Galaxy: the Donovan-to-Bayern saga. How does Beckham's departure play into those negotiations? Does Bayern even want Donovan? If so, what is it willing to pay?

The economics suggest that, if Jozy Altidore is a $10 million player, then Donovan is at least worth that and probably $5 million more. But I doubt Bayern want to plunk down that much. I'm also not sure Jürgen Klinsmann is that high on Donovan. Which means L.A. doesn't have the same leverage to demand a high price as it did in the Becks deal. This could actually be a messier, if less public, negotiation than the Beckham deal.