To call or not to call—that is the question.
Whether ‘tis nobler for the manager to face his decisions or sling them forward into the digital ether with zero accountability, to end the relentless debate by treating players with a modicum of respect, or to know you’re leaving anyway and not care a bit about who you upset.
On the eve of yet another World Cup, the anticipation surrounding this summer’s tournament has been built up with more corporate fanfare than the Three Lions’ perpetual, tragicomic chorus of “Football’s Coming Home.” Yet, right on cue, the USMNT has plunged itself into yet another self-inflicted crisis.
Well, if we’re honest, at least three of them.
It is the sort of wall-banging madness that is entirely avoidable with just a modicum of foresight.
The first unforced error was leaving Diego Luna off the final 26-man roster. This is a player whom USMNT manager Mauricio Pochettino has relied on heavily, handing him significant minutes throughout the build-up over the last year. Luna overperformed, overdelivered, and just a few short years ago made the brave career choice to represent the United States over Mexico.
It was such a monumental dual-national coup that U.S. Soccer—acting as a co-host for this summer’s historic tournament—instantly transformed him into the face of their marketing. Luna was plastered across Nike campaigns and promotional ads with the stars and stripes draped around his neck. Pundits dubbed him a one-man marketing machine. We were fed stories of his resilience, hard work, and determination—the exact attributes Americans yearn for in their sporting heroes.
If that script sounds familiar, it’s because we watched this exact movie play out in 2022. Back then, after announcing his intention to choose the U.S. over El Tri, Ricardo Pepi was immediately turned into a marketing centerpiece, only to be ruthlessly dropped by Gregg Berhalter in the final hours before Qatar. It seems U.S. Soccer has developed a nasty penchant for parading our dual nationals around to signal corporate virtue, only to cast them aside once the marketing checks clear. Future dual nationals weighing their international allegiances will undoubtedly remember this.
Establishment pundits—specifically those beholden to the whims of the Federation and the rights-holders at Fox, like Alexi Lalas and Stu Holden—have already begun parroting the company line. They will tell you that Luna’s recent form and injury record simply weren’t good enough to justify a spot.
If that’s the objective metric, then why on earth is Gio Reyna in the squad? Reyna is a player who has spent the last year chronically struggling for club minutes and perpetually recovering from injury. Before anyone accuses me of an anti-Reyna bias, I believe Reyna possesses the highest talent ceiling on the roster. But if Holden and the “Red Bandit” are going to suggest that match fitness and form dictate roster spots, then the math isn’t mathing.
Look no further than our talisman, Christian Pulisic. Much like the last ‘Great American Hope’ before him, Landon Donovan, Pulisic suffered a brutal, highly publicized dip in form following an off-field breakup. Prior to snapping his five-month drought in yesterday’s warm-up match against Senegal, he had gone a career-high 19 club matches without a goal for an AC Milan side that completely collapsed—finishing 17 points off the pace and missing out on the Champions League after being pipped for the final spot by Serie A upstarts Como. Pulisic’s spot is rightfully untouchable, but his inclusion proves that Pochettino’s “form-first” justification for dropping Luna is a convenient myth.
But it wasn’t just the fact that Luna was cast aside after dancing for the cameras. To make matters worse, Pochettino couldn’t even bother to pick up the phone. While these players are adults and professionals, basic human decency dictates that a manager should own a life-altering decision by calling bubble players to explain why their World Cup dream is dead.
Instead, as reported by The Athletic, the players who made the squad received personalized video messages. At the same time, those dropped from the 55-man provisional list were cast away via a cold, automated email. Firing an email into the digital ether to a Gen-Z player who likely rarely checks his inbox isn’t just modern logistics—it’s soft. It’s the sporting equivalent of a boss laying off a dedicated employee in a meeting with HR rather than doing it themselves.
Pochettino has aggressively pushed back on the criticism, calling the outrage “bullshit.” His full justification suggested he didn’t want to “center himself” in the players’ heartbreak. But come on. Whether you call or not, you are the manager of the United States Men’s National Team; you are the center of the story. By cowardly avoiding the conversation, Poch has amplified the drama tenfold.
However, that cold, detached corporate approach suddenly made total sense a few days later when the other shoe dropped.
Just two short weeks before the biggest sporting event in American history kicks off, news leaked that Pochettino is already deep in negotiations to take over at AC Milan. Less than two years into his lucrative U.S. Soccer tenure, he has been caught looking past the United States job toward his next European payday.
This is disastrously Lopetegui-esque—recalling the infamous 2018 incident where Spain manager Julen Lopetegui was sacked days before the World Cup after secretly signing a contract with Real Madrid. Pochettino’s impending exit explains his total lack of respect for the culture he supposedly built. Why bother calling Diego Luna and managing player relationships when you already know you won’t be around to deal with the aftermath in September?
How can we expect a manager to extract “Miracle on Ice” energy from a locker room when he already has one foot out the door? How can the players look him in the eye and trust his tactical sacrifices when they know he has already planned his escape route and can’t even keep it quiet until July?
None of this is good for team chemistry. At the very moment when the USMNT has a generational opportunity to make waves on home soil, we are saddled with a manager showing complete disregard for the players he leads and the fans desperate for a glimmer of hope.
Perhaps this hand-wringing will be for naught. But as it stands, the USMNT is entering a home World Cup with a manager who has successfully made himself the toxic center of attention. Instead of fostering a unified, hyper-focused camp, Pochettino has poisoned the well on his way out.
To win or not to win—that will be his legacy. Whether this squad can overcome the distraction is now entirely up to the players, who must tune out their manager’s boardroom shenanigans and play strictly for the crest, the country, and the fans.
David Shams is an Iranian-American writer and photographer. A former college player and coach at various levels, David has chronicled the game since high school. As a vibes-forward storyteller, he prioritizes the visceral atmosphere of the terrace over the modern game’s heavy reliance on analytics. Whether documenting his groundhopping across Europe and Asia or sharing a match with locals at pubs around the globe, David captures the romance of the beautiful game. You can find his work on Substack and Instagram. His debut novel, A Thousand Touches, is set for publication in early fall 2026.