A single beer on a Tuesday afternoon could never have been enough. With no food yet in my stomach since waking up with a sickening mixture of childlike excitement and unbridled cynicism, I had hoped my lager would steel my nerves. Still, watching the second half of the USMNT’s triumph over Iran was, with no exaggeration required, one of the most stressful experiences of my life; the nine minutes of stoppage time tacked on at the end of the second half may have been another 90, for all I was concerned. The American defense dropped deep and absorbed pressure from their opponents for most of the second half, and with each shot from a white-shirted player the pit in my stomach lurched to new lows until, at long last , that final whistle blew. I, like many other USA soccer fans, came into their pivotal final group stage match against the Iranians expecting my country to win based on their quality of play so far. Unfortunately, I know this team well, and so running through my mind all day wa...