Being a coach in professional soccer is not a job for the faint-hearted or weak-willed. You are subject daily to the laws of results, results, results, cruel to the point of torture when you think of all the things over which you have no control that can affect those results: injuries; petulance, intrigue or ignorance of club-owners and investors; scheduling of league games and international matches; psychology of the players; corruption and scheming of players’ agents; and the boozy culture among many top-class players. One week the team gels against a top club and you’re a genius. The next week a defeat at home and the press and fans consider you clueless.

And worst of all, any successes you have are soon forgotten. Just this week Alan Pardew, coach of West Ham United in the Premiership, was fired. He has been the guiding hand behind the club’s ascent to soccer’s top floor, and the team’s appearance in May’s thrilling F.A. Cup Final, where the Hammers lost on kicks-from-the-mark to Liverpool. Pardew lost his job after one win in the last six games, and seven defeats in the last ten matches. They are near the bottom of the league table, ahead of two other London clubs, Charlton and Watford. The problem is that the club was taken over by new investors, and the potential value of their investment depended upon being in the Premiership, not languishing in some lower division. The new major investor had already declared that the coach would (figuratively) have his throat cut if the team did not get the results they needed to stay in the top division. Pardew had been warned.

Who would want such a job? Only masochists need apply! And sadly, we have a fine example from U. S. soccer to show how tough it can be. This one has been in the works since the World Cup in Germany and the ignominious departure of first the team, and then, inevitably, Bruce Arena shortly thereafter. Who was to replace him?

The obvious candidate was Jürgen Klinsmann, who had surprised the whole of Germany with the success of his young team, and with the enthusiasm he displayed while leading them. The president of U. S. Soccer, Sunil Gulati, pursued him for many months, for not only was he an obviously successful coach (and a World Cup-winning player), but he lived in California with his American wife and their kids. For months before the tournament in Germany, he flew back and forth across the Atlantic preparing his team.

Without saying why, Klinsmann turned down whatever offer he received from Gulati, but I’m guessing that the issue was not money. I’m betting that it was control. The U.S. Soccer Federation is well-known for being filled with experts, most of whom are free with their opinions about what is wrong with our national team. And Klinsmann has lived here long enough to know that he would not be able to run the team without interference, and perhaps Gulati couldn’t guarantee him the independence he needed or wanted.

The biggest trouble he would have encountered would be with the nature of American sport. We crave victory, and accept little less, especially at the hands of foreigners. It is in our view of ourselves that we can do things better than most of the world, and let’s face it, many soccer-people have been deluded for more than a few years that we will soon be able to beat the best on the planet. Transfer that attitude into international politics, and it draws us into a quagmire in Viet Nam, and now into the parched and dangerous wastes of Iraq. Humility is not in our nature, and I imagine that Klinsmann knew he would have to deal with that. Is that where negotiations broke down? Could Sunil Gulati—an honest man—guarantee in writing to the coach that he’d be left alone to do his job? I doubt it.

But shortly after it was learned that Jürgen Klinsmann had said “Nein, danke!” another announcement declared that Bob Bradley, coach of Chivas USA of Major League Soccer, a protégé of Bruce Arena and the winningest coach in MLS history had said “Yes”. But get this: He was announced as the head coach of the United States men’s national soccer team on an interim basis (my italics).

Of course we want you, Bob, but not permanently. For months Bradley has known he was not the first choice, and now the job-offer confirms it. That’s like a father telling his daughter’s suitor that it’s OK for him to date her, but don’t expect to marry her, son.

Who’d be a professional coach, eh?