9 June 1993, Foxboro. USA 2–0 England.
By Hamish McTavish
Foxboro on a Wednesday night, a dress-rehearsal World Cup the hosts will stage and England will not reach, and a manager who had already been a turnip for a year. Oslo was seven days old. Norway 2–0. Norse Manure. The headless chickens. Now America, in a friendly tournament with Brazil and Germany, the side you beat to repair a week. Thirty-seven thousand in a stadium built for another sport. Paul Ince, first black captain of England, with the armband. Graham Taylor, in the paper before kick-off, made the rod himself.
"We would have been looking for a win here anyhow, but if we'd won last week it wouldn't have been considered essential. Now it is. Whether we like it or not, people expect us to beat America, and there is definitely more intensity about this game because of our performance in the last one."
People expect us to beat America. There it is. The inventors, forty-three years on from Belo Horizonte, still treating the other lot as a collection. The United States had one win in fifteen. They had not scored for three hundred and eighty-eight minutes. Six of their starters were not contracted to a club. Tony Meola, twenty-four, from Kearny, New Jersey, was supposed to be the night's victim. Taylor would later say Meola made four miraculous saves, and that today could have been the turning point except for him. Except for the keeper is not a turning point. Except for the keeper is the night.
Foxboro is a horseshoe that thinks it is waiting for American football. On a June Wednesday it had soccer, a word England still treat as a slight, and a home crowd that had come to see whether the inventors still invented anything. Brazil and Germany were in the same little tournament. England were the side with something to prove and nothing already booked for the next summer. The hosts were booking a World Cup. The visitors were booking a headline.
They kicked off anyway.
England had the names and not the finish. Les Ferdinand went off before the interval; Ian Wright came on to miss the ones Meola did not invent. John Barnes, David Batty, Lee Sharpe. The same occupation of a half without a goal in it that Belo Horizonte had already filed. The Americans, with John Harkes of Sheffield Wednesday and Roy Wegerle of Coventry in the side, and Thomas Dooley and Tab Ramos in from Europe, played as if they had not read the English week.
Two minutes before half-time the night became the night. Jeff Agoos down the left, a cross too far, Ramos keeping it in with a foot that should not have been enough, and Dooley stooping from six yards, a diving header past Chris Woods. One-nil, and a side that had not scored in six hours had scored against the inventors. The Independent, in the morning, would call it as embarrassing a result as any in forty years, and name Belo Horizonte in the deck. The LA Times would call it an English disaster. The Sun would not bother with the history. YANKS 2 PLANKS 0.
Wright, five yards out after the break, after a Barnes flick, put one over. It should have been the equaliser. Meola kept the rest. England lost discipline with the score. Wright went into the keeper. Ince caught Dooley with a tackle that took the scorer off. Rough justice arrived in the shirt of the substitute. Alexi Lalas, red hair, no club, on for four minutes, headed Ramos's corner in at the far post and ran off as if he could not believe it either. Two-nil. The American end found U-S-A. The English end found we're so bad it's unbelievable, and asked for Taylor to go.
Meola, after, said he did not think anybody expected the United States to score against England. He was sure it was a shock to the world. That is the American half of the certainty, and for once it was true. Taylor said they had not been that bad, and on another day would have won. Another day is the alibi you pack when this day has already gone. The Independent did not pack it. New low. Dooley and Lalas. Belo Horizonte named in the deck, forty-three years on, the same joke in a different stadium.
Ince had the armband and a night that will be remembered for the tackle and not the captaincy. Woods had two headers he will not want. Meola had the saves Taylor used as an alibi. Dooley had the first American goal against England since Gaetjens. Lalas had the second, and the guitar, and the World Cup coming to his country. Taylor had the line about a battle, and a turning point, and Meola. "We're in a battle at the moment. We've got to stick it out. There will be a turning point." There was not. Rotterdam in October finished him. Ta Ta Turnip. Resign! Resign! USA 94 went on without them. The hosts who had just beaten them played in it.
They said people expect us to beat America. They said it was essential. They said four miraculous saves. They said a turning point. If you still think it was only a friendly, a funeral is only a Tuesday.
ITV had it live, Alan Parry and Rodney Marsh. The film is still around: Dooley's dive, Lalas from the corner, Wright over the bar, Meola doing the night Taylor would later blame on him. Do not review it. Watch the planks.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0yxBi-Ur2mE
## Related reading
- [Swedes 2, Turnips 1](/blogs/the-tape/swedes-2-turnips-1) — where the Sun found the root vegetable a year earlier - [A typing error, apparently](/blogs/the-tape/a-typing-error-apparently) — Belo Horizonte 1950, the older American joke
If the nights sit right, the shirts and the wall are at [/shop](/shop).
## FAQ
What was the score when the USA beat England in 1993?
USA 2–0 England, on 9 June 1993 at Foxboro. Thomas Dooley and Alexi Lalas scored. It was a friendly tournament ahead of USA 94.
Why did The Sun call England planks?
The morning headline was YANKS 2 PLANKS 0. It sat in the same vegetable-and-insult campaign that had already made Taylor a turnip after Euro 92.
Was this the same as Belo Horizonte 1950?
No — different night, different century. 29 June 1950 was USA 1–0 at Belo Horizonte (Gaetjens). Foxboro 1993 was the rematch joke the papers reached for forty-three years on.