Los Angeles delivered the spectacle FIFA needed on opening night. In a Los Angeles kind of way, under soft powder blue skies on the Pacific coast, the United States and Mauricio Pochettino's team turned a tournament that has been stretched thin and made strange into something that, at least for one evening, felt irresistible.
The pregame was pure California theater. Katy Perry descended in a silver bustle. Korean pop sensation Lisa, with 105 million Instagram followers, performed with a troupe of backup dancers. A man in a tracksuit held aloft a golden ball like an ancient deity. Then came the main event: an enormous golden FIFA sign, all four letters at least 50 feet high, winched down from the sky as if expressing the divine will of an administrative acronym. It was either the most ludicrous sporting spectacle yet, or close to it.
The US fans swept into the stadium in waves of Americana, stars and stripes dungarees, twirling flags, pom poms, straw hats. Less hard core ultras than a costume party. The stadium itself was stunning, all swooping lines and fountains, designed like something from Star Trek. Fireworks erupted. The roar of "Yoo Ess Ay" shook the stands.
Pochettino stood on the touchline in a blue grey suit and white trainers, hair rakishly long, looking like a 1980s cop from a speedboat heist film. His team started fearless, pressing high and moving forward with the kind of intensity that comes from knowing this is the biggest moment in their international careers.
Paraguay, which had beaten Brazil and Argentina in qualifying, spent the opening hour in a sullen defensive crouch. They offered little resistance. The US scored three times in the first half en route to a 4-1 victory that was never in doubt.
Weston McKennie's driving run led to an own goal from Damián Bobadilla. Folarin Balogun, the decisive presence on the pitch, scored twice more, one a finish that left two defenders splayed on the turf and sent the crowd cooing and tumbling over itself. The second showed remarkable composure, Balogun spanking the ball into the top corner with the kind of control that made the stadium erupt.
There was something worth noticing in how this team looked. A hugely mixed and diverse group of dual nationals, people with roots from Liberia to Croatia. Balogun, of Nigerian descent, was the engine of the performance. This version of America, built from immigration and exchange rather than isolation, took the pitch and modeled something different from the divisive rhetoric that has been rattling through the nation. Sport doesn't solve anything. But it does tell you something, if you listen.
The celebrity parade continued through the night. David Beckham and Tom Cruise beamed from the giant screen like a nuclear grade twin celebrity megalith. Marco Rubio sat in the seat beside Infantino, looking a little grudging and sad, like a man forced to endure a double date in Goodfellas before rushing off before the coffee arrived. Trump, conspicuously absent, left room for geopolitical drama to come later, when Iran arrives for the next US match.
But on this strange, bloated three-part tournament, California's opening act gave the next four weeks a shape and a pulse. The World Cup had its moment. The ball is magic, remember. Just keep watching the ball.
Author James Rodriguez: "A US team that looked genuinely formidable delivered the kind of dominant opener this tournament desperately needed, and they did it in front of a stadium that proved Los Angeles still knows how to put on the show."
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