It is crazy, for example, for him to think back to another afternoon in May, during the national team training camp in Palo Alto. After practice one day, Yedlin walked into the clubhouse and saw a player crying on one side of the room. On the other side, another player was telling teammates good-bye. Maybe they got in a fight, Yedlin thought. Maybe there had been a disciplinary issue, and now both players were going home. But minutes later, another player walked in, also fighting back tears. Now it was clear: Klinsmann was starting to make cuts. Then another walked in and announced he was heading home. After him, another. One by one, they went around the room, giving hugs and saying good-bye. Yedlin started counting. Six players had been cut. One more, and the roster would be whittled from 30 to the final 23.
In walked Landon Donovan. He told his teammates what the rest of the world would soon find out: For the first time in more than a decade, he wouldn’t be playing in the World Cup. Yedlin was stunned, but in his head, he’d done the math. Seven players gone. Twenty-three left.
He called Dylan, his uncle, the man who’d taught him how to play.
“Oh my god,” DeAndre said.
“Holy shit,” said Dylan.
“Ho-leeee shit.”
It dawned on Yedlin: His life would never be the same
