It’s a sad day in America.
The Phenom is no more.
Today, September 18, is Christian Pulisic’s birthday. Our innocent, sweet boy is now a man. Yesterday he was a soccer prodigy with the world at his feet. Dreams of nine digit transfer fees and Ballons d’Or are a thing of the past. What’s left is just your ordinary 19-year-old soccer player, spiraling his way towards anonymity.
Zinedine Zidane, after receiving a Google Alert of Pulisic’s big day, slowly wipes away his name from his dry erase board of potential transfer market targets. Copy editors around the world are forced to delete descriptions such as “phenom” or “wunderkind” from their stories. Alone sits a man in Germany, transfer value cut in half and a career spiraling towards the inevitable end.
Newspapers no longer care about the random 19-year-old soccer player. There are hundreds of them in every league. The next phenom is out there, waiting to be found, waiting to become the next clickbait king.
The future of American soccer is now the present, which looks a lot like the past. Hopes of a world-class player dissolved into the realization of mediocrity. 19 going on 35. The end is nigh.
But seriously, Happy Birthday, Christian!