It has long been a staple of sporting analysis that the last thing you saw is a terrible predictor of the thing you will see. Las Vegas is paved with the headstones of people who thought they figured out a team's future by breaking down its past.
And then there's the Belgian men's national soccer team, which takes this adage one fallacy further by being different teams within the same game, and doing it repeatedly so that the cagey analyst just walks away at the start of the national anthem and says, "Tell me when it ends." They got to this point with a tedious draw against Egypt and then doubling down on the tedium with a scoreless draw with Iran; only a mismatched victory over New Zealand allowed them to win their group and advance to last night.
Thus, it is with exhausted joy mixed with bewilderment that the USMNT prepares for next Monday's round of 16 showdown with the Belgians, whose performance in their 3-2 extra-time victory over Senegal was very late-model Belgian indeed. They were listless, bland, and seemingly too old to be bold for 85 minutes, during which time they fell behind the far more intrepid and inventive Senegalese, 2-0, and even subbed out their best-ever player (Kevin De Bruyne), and most capable attacker (Jeremy Doku) in what looked like acknowledgement of the inevitable. They were so fried with the game and each other that a second-half hydration break scuffle-ette broke out between Youri Tielemans and Leandro Trossard.
Then, with Uncle Death looming over their shoulders, they suddenly became effervescent to the point of near mania for the next five minutes in desperately tying the match at two. First it was Romelu Lukaku, now too old and too thick to offer any more than brief bursts of productive play off the bench, guiding a low cross inside the near post. Not three minutes later, it was Tielemans's head beating Senegal keeper Mory Diaw's fist to the ball, which sailed into the wide-open goal. Senegal was ultimately put out of its misery with a much-debated penalty converted by Tielemans at the ridiculous time of 124:44, the rough equivalent of winning today's game two days later.
Belgium was done, in other words, and then they weren't, and now they face a U.S team that has been striding confidently past inferior opponents (even when reduced to 10 men) while Belgium has been gasping, stumbling, but staying on its feet.
Here comes the fun part. the aforementioned rule about prior form predicting future results offers up infinite possibilities for Monday's game. USMNT manager Mauricio Pochettino must figure out how to reassemble his side without its best player in this tournament, Folarin Balogun, who will be serving a red-card suspension. Meanwhile, Belgian coach Rudi Garcia has to figure out who he is coaching, period. The difference is that Pochettino has not had to coach without Balogun, while Garcia seems to be used to living on this blind man's buff hiking trail. But after Wednesday's action he at least knows that there is still some sting in Belgium's tail, and that their consistent tendency to lean into the inconsistent means the pre-World Cup fears about the golden generation ending in pain and humiliation may have been prematurely felt. In short, the golden generation seems far more zinc-like in retrospect.
Thus, you should approach Monday's match with the greatest trepidation—that is, if you fancy yourself a soccer knower. The stakes are higher, sure, but the lack of reliably predictable form makes this a total pie fight that could be either the zenith of the sport or a colossally turgid mess with crowd noise and Alexi Lalas. Judge accordingly.
