Brian Ching (cont.)

Last year, despite his four goals, it was the little things that made him a key asset for the U.S. "He's a great target man," says defender and national-team captain Carlos Bocanegra. "We can just lump balls to him and he holds onto it and brings other players into the game."

Take, for example, last month's friendly against Sweden in Carson, Calif. Ching did his usual grunt work of taking on defenders and holding the ball up. Without his help, attacking midfielder Sacha Kljestan probably wouldn't have scored a hat trick.

"He's a strong guy," agrees Dempsey. "Sometimes you're not able to link up [with your teammates] and you can send him that long, direct ball. He can get you out of trouble and hold it up, which allows our midfield to get up and we can build in the attack."

Whether the fans can appreciate those contributions is another matter. One of the biggest knocks on the U.S. is that it lacks a true, world-class forward who is a constant threat every time he touches the ball. And in a way, fans may have been spoiled by now-retired three-time World Cup veteran Brian McBride, who wrote the book on how an American center forward is supposed to perform.

McBride was the classic target man, able to pull down crosses and long passes and fire them into the net. More so, he was a guy who was unafraid to stick his head into a scrum of bodies and put his noggin on the ball, often with bloody results. It was that kind of selflessness, flash and lack of fear that endeared McBride to U.S. fans.

At 6-foot-1, 195 pounds, Ching is about as close in size to McBride as anyone on the national team. But to borrow a phrase from Rick Pitino, Brian McBride is not walking through that door. "Brian was a tremendously talented player," admits Ching. "Of course, you pick up a few tips here and there, try to incorporate a few things into your own game. But when I step onto the field, I try to stay in my limits and do the things I'm good at."

And those things are plentiful, according to his coach: "Brian is a player that anybody who's been on his team with him has tremendous respect for what he brings," Bradley says. "He scores goals, and because of the way he works for others, he's a guy who creates opportunities for other players around him."

But maybe more important, Ching is now an elder statesman in a U.S. player pool that is getting ever younger as the players Bradley has developed are starting to come to the forefront. At 30, Ching is the second-oldest player on the roster against Mexico (Frankie Hejduk, at 34, is the eldest) and is increasingly becoming an experienced veteran.

"We rely heavily on that core of veterans," says Bradley. "They understand what these games are all about. In the first game of the final round against a rival like Mexico, I think that kind of experience will be very, very important. We're looking to those guys to lead us on the field."

Ching won't be wearing the captain's armband Wednesday night -- that honor again will go to Bocanegra. But when the U.S. takes the field, it will do so with a handful of players who know what it means to battle Mexico and what kind of discipline it will take to shut down arguably their most difficult opponent. And the Mexicans know what kind of game they'll get.

"Difficult," admits defensive midfielder Pável Pardo. "It will be a very tight game and we don't have room for errors."

If Ching can keep doing the dirty work, Mexico's margin for error should even less, and the Americans will continue their recent domination of their archrivals. And maybe, just maybe, they can start to love the guy who is working hard to keep it that way.