SEATTLE — I kept thinking about the Fourth of July.
Not because of the holiday itself, but because of what it felt like.
Two nights before the United States faced Belgium in the biggest World Cup match this country had hosted in decades, thousands of American soccer fans lined the shores of Lake Union to watch fireworks burst above the Seattle skyline. They wore Christian Pulisic jerseys and Tyler Adams jerseys. Kids chased soccer balls through the park while parents debated whether this young American team could actually keep this remarkable run alive. There was laughter, optimism and excitement everywhere you looked. For the first time in a long time, soccer didn't feel like a niche sport in America. It felt like the center of the country's sporting universe.
That's what I'll remember most about this World Cup.
Not the final score against Belgium.
Not the missed passes or defensive mistakes that led to a humbling 4-1 loss Monday night at Lumen Field.
I'll remember how this team made people feel.
From the moment the United States dismantled Paraguay, 4-1, at SoFi Stadium in the opening match, this tournament took on a life of its own. The atmosphere in the stadium was unlike anything American soccer had experienced. It somehow became even louder in Seattle when the Americans beat Australia, 2-0, to clinch Group D after only two matches, the earliest the United States had ever secured first place in a World Cup group. Then came Santa Clara, where the Americans beat Bosnia and Herzegovina for their first World Cup knockout victory in 24 years, sending thousands of fans into a celebration that spilled long after the final whistle.
Every stop along the way felt bigger than the last.
I've covered enough major sporting events to know when something feels different, and this felt different. The crowds were getting larger. The belief was growing stronger. Casual sports fans who couldn't have named five players a month earlier suddenly planned their days around kickoff times. Restaurants filled with people wearing red, white and blue jerseys. Families drove hours just to be part of the atmosphere outside the stadiums. It wasn't just soccer fans anymore. It was America.
For once, we weren't asking whether the United States could win the World Cup.
We were simply enjoying the ride.
That's why what happened less than 36 hours before kickoff against Belgium felt so jarring.
Folarin Balogun had been sent off with a red card against Bosnia and Herzegovina. Everyone accepted the decision. The United States prepared all week to play without one of its most dangerous attackers. Belgium prepared expecting not to face him.
Then FIFA reversed the suspension.
It was an unprecedented decision considering both teams had already spent days preparing for the Round of 16. The story became even bigger when President Donald Trump publicly took credit for the reversal, turning what had been a disciplinary decision into an international political story.
Whether the president had anything to do with FIFA's decision isn't really the point.
Whether FIFA correctly interpreted its own disciplinary rules isn't really the point either.
The point is that, almost overnight, the conversation changed.
Instead of talking about Kevin De Bruyne against Tyler Adams, or whether Mauricio Pochettino's relentless pressing style could trouble one of the tournament favorites, everyone was suddenly debating politics, fairness and ethics. Supporters around the world denounced the decision before a ball had even been kicked. The feel-good story everyone had embraced suddenly became one that many people wanted no part of.
The magic that had surrounded this team for nearly a month disappeared.
You could feel it walking into Lumen Field.
The stadium was still packed. More than 68,000 people still waved American flags and believed this team could reach the quarterfinals. But it didn't feel like the euphoric afternoon against Australia in Seattle. It didn't feel like the celebration after Bosnia and Herzegovina in Santa Clara. There was a tension that hadn't existed before. The joy that had defined this tournament had been replaced by something heavier.
Then Belgium reminded everyone why it remains one of the favorites to lift the World Cup.
The Americans looked nothing like the team that had captivated the country over the previous three weeks. They were tentative from the opening whistle, disconnected in midfield and a step behind defensively. Belgium exposed every mistake and every hesitation. The same confidence that overwhelmed Paraguay and carried the United States through the group stage was nowhere to be found.
"I think today we didn't show our real quality like a team," Pochettino said afterward. "We were not in our level. We never connected with the game. We started in a poor way. It was a very bad day. It wasn't our day in a collective and individual way. We need to accept that sometimes this type of thing happens, but in a World Cup knockout game, when it happens, you go home."
Pochettino never searched for an excuse.
Asked repeatedly whether the Balogun controversy had become a distraction, he refused to take the bait.
"We were not good enough today," he said. "Belgium were better than us. That's it."
His players echoed the same sentiment.
"It was unlike any of the performances we've had this summer," Antonee Robinson said. "We looked like we lacked energy. We looked like we weren't as fluid as we had been. It just didn't feel like us as a team." When Robinson was asked whether everything surrounding Balogun had affected the squad, he dismissed the idea. "Everything after that is kind of just noise. Belgium were better than us on the day."
Balogun, who had already accepted missing the Round of 16 before learning he had been reinstated, also refused to blame the controversy.
"I accepted the decision," Balogun said. "My job is just to go out there and focus on my job... We were in a better team today."
Tyler Adams said the players learned about the reinstatement at the same time everyone else did.
"We found out the same time as you guys," Adams said. "I didn't even know there was an appeal. We read it just like you. I don't think that noise affected us in any way."
Adams admitted the team's first reaction after the loss was that "we let them down," referring to the millions of Americans who had rallied behind the team over the last month. But even in defeat, he believed something meaningful had happened.
"I think that was the goal, to inspire people that the sport was growing in the U.S.," Adams said. "People gravitated toward us because we were relatable, because we represented exactly what the U.S. was. Today wasn't a good day, but overall there were positives we're going to take away from it."
Tim Ream, the elder statesman of the group, perhaps said it best.
Throughout the tournament, the players understood that every victory meant more people were watching. More kids were dreaming. More families were discovering the sport. That responsibility mattered.
"We knew what kind of impact we would be able to have," Ream said. "Obviously, that all comes to a halt now, but I don't think the conversation changes. I don't think the conversation should die down. I think it should be, 'How incredible this journey has been with this group.' How can we keep the conversation going? How can we continue to inspire those boys and girls now that the tournament is over?"
Pochettino struck a similar tone despite one of the most painful losses of his coaching career.
Just a year ago, he reminded everyone, few people believed the United States belonged on the same field as Belgium. Now the disappointment came not from simply losing, but from failing to play like the team everyone had watched over the previous three weeks.
"In one year we improved a lot," Pochettino said. "I've seen this team show that we can compete. We have a lot of young players with a lot of potential and a generation coming behind them. We need to keep believing in that process."
Then he said something that may ultimately become the legacy of this tournament.
"I think we created something that is going to stay in this federation and in this country."
I think he's right.
Belgium was the better team Monday night. It deserved to advance.
Nothing about that should be disputed.
But as I walked out of Lumen Field, I couldn't stop thinking about those fireworks over Lake Union two nights earlier and the thousands of people who had gathered to celebrate not just Independence Day, but a soccer team that had captured the imagination of a country.
For three weeks, the United States Men's National Team gave America something it desperately needed. It gave people a reason to gather together. It gave children new heroes. It reminded everyone that sports can still unite us in ways that very few things can.
Every World Cup journey eventually ends.
Only one country lifts the trophy.
The challenge for American soccer isn't figuring out how to beat Belgium four years from now. It's figuring out how to preserve what this team created over the last month. Because for a few unforgettable weeks, the United States wasn't simply hosting the World Cup.
It was falling in love with it.