Bad is good

DAEJEON, South Korea -- It's 10:10 p.m. here on the most surreal night in American soccer history, and the game in front of me -- the U.S. game, of all things -- doesn't matter anymore.

The Yanks are tanking, down 3-0 to winless Poland. For the past hour I've had one thought: With South Korea and Portugal, the co-host and the group favorite, playing at the same time, at least nobody else in the world is watching the U.S. stink up the joint. Now I'm not either.

It's simple. The Yanks could lose 12-0 and still qualify, but only so long as South Korea upsets Portugal in Incheon. And, well, that ain't gonna happen. If the Koreans and Portuguese maintain their 0-0 second-half tie, both teams qualify for the second round, so why should the Koreans risk going forward?

The U.S. is done. Cooked. Eliminated.

Unless the South Koreans win ....

So my head swivels over to the monitor beside me. The game below ceases to exist.

Brad Friedel saves another penalty kick. So what.

Landon Donovan scores his first World Cup goal. Big deal.

Clint Mathis doinks the post. Yawn.

Suddenly, Daejeon World Cup Stadium shakes with its biggest roar of the night. The place is going nuts, the Korean fans singing their lungs out. "DAE! Han Min-GUK! DAE! Han Min-GUK! DAE! Han Min-GUK!"

It means "Republic of Korea." For the Americans, it means salvation. In the 70th minute, Park Ji-Sung has struck for Korea. Left foot, a thing of beauty. Amazingly, miraculously, the U.S. is in, but only if Korea holds the lead.

So I watch. On the monitor, the news is unfolding in real time. Portugal hits the post! The Koreans clear. Sergio Conceiçao lashes a drive! The Korean keeper saves. Luis Figo shoots! Wide left. The tension is overwhelming.

Three minutes of injury time flash on the screen. It's three minutes too many.

Finally, mercifully, the whistle blows in Incheon. Another roar here in Daejeon. "DAE! Han Min-GUK! DAE! Han Min-GUK! DAE! Han Min-GUK!"

I'm suffering from sensory overload. The Portuguese are collapsed on the ground, crying. The Korean fans are holding their red scarves triumphantly above their heads. The American players are high-fiving each other on the bench.

Koreans are celebrating. Americans are celebrating. Even the Poles are celebrating. The Portuguese? Well, they're not celebrating.

"DAE! Han Min-GUK!" they roar in Incheon. "DAE! Han Min-GUK!" they roar in Daejeon. "DAE! Han Min-GUK!" they roar in every corner of this charming country, from the high-rises of Seoul to the beaches of Busan, through the cabbage fields and the rice paddies, all the way to the DMZ. If I'm U.S. coach Bruce Arena right now, I'm chanting "DAE! Han Min-GUK!" into the first Korean TV camera I can find.

It's a dark day for American soccer. It's a glorious day for American soccer.

Most of all, it's the best possible result for the Americans, better than if they had won by five goals. By losing (and having South Korea win), the U.S. gets Mexico in the second round (instead of Italy) and a possible quarterfinal date with Germany or Paraguay (instead of Spain or Ireland).

How lucky are these Yanks? Consider: They're the only team in the World Cup's Sweet 16 that goes in on a loss. In other words, every American should sing the song of Park Ji-Sung.

Some other talking points post-game: