What’s behind the success of U.S. goalkeepers in England?

By Joe Boyle and Simon Kuper in London

“A breed of their own, and crazy,” is the considered opinion of Ian Evans, coach at Millwall FC, a soccer club tucked away southeast London. Evans could have been talking about some of Millwall’s supporters, some of whom are notoriously violent.

Instead he was talking about Americans. Well, American goalkeepers to be precise.

While the English remain skeptical of American outfield players (only John Harkes of Derby County has impressed), they are increasingly valuing the talent of American keepers. Currently four play in England, with Millwall’s Kasey Keller and Juergen Sommer of Luton Town the leading lights. Both play in the English First Division and are the automatic first-choice keepers for their teams.

In the same division Mike Ammann, who reportedly broke a hand recently, is the second-string keeper at Charlton Athletic, and Ian Feuer is second-string with West Ham United of the Premier League.

Feuer would be the first to admit that even though his club is in the top flight it is first-team appearances that really count. As yet, he has been unable to break into the lineup, largely due to the presence at West Ham of international goalkeeper Ludek Miklosko, who was on Czechoslovakia’s roster at the 1990 World Cup.

Miklosko has, however, just turned 34 and while keepers generally have a longer lifespan than outfield players Feuer feels his time may be coming. “I’ve got a lot of respect for Miklosko,” says Feuer, “but with Ludek getting older I’ve got a chance.”

Certainly West Ham feels that way and Feuer has just signed a new two-year contract with the club. “I see my future at West Ham,” he says.

Similarly Keller, now in his fourth season in England, has just extended his own contract at Millwall, which should see him at the club until 1997. “I love Millwall, its new stadium and the plans the chairman [Reg Burr] has for the club,” Keller claims.

However, the fact remains that Millwall is a comparatively small place and Keller has attracted the attention of some of the country’s leading teams. High-flying Premier League clubs Newcastle United and Leeds, which won the championship in 1992, have both expressed an interest, and a $3 million price tag has been slapped on the keeper.

Understandably, Keller speaks loyally about his current club, but he would surely have grasped a move to a higher level had there not been problems over his work-permit. “I was the second-to-last foreign player to get a permit under the old rules,” he says. “The other Americans have all got English or European passports.”

Sommer’s family is German, Feuer is married to a Belgian and Ammann is married to an Italian citizen who works in London. The risk for Keller, married to an American, is that, were he to try and change clubs, his permit could be revoked. While he stays at Millwall he is safe.

Handling holds the key

What certainly seems safe for all the American keepers is their growing reputation. Evans, Keller’s coach, puts their success down to “natural ability” but David Pleat, Sommer’s manager at Luton and a leading soccer pundit, has a more complex analysis.

“Pace,” says Pleat. “There are such high standards at speed outfield in the English game.” Pleat is unequivocal that American outfield players have trouble adjusting to the frantic speed of the English game. He cites the case of Alexi Lalas, who had a trial with Arsenal. Several leading clubs had a look at him, but instantly saw how he even struggled to cope with the speed of play on the training field.

Goalkeeper, however, is an “isolated position,” says Pleat, “which requires good ball-handling skills that Americans develop playing sports like basketball.”

It is an analysis that Keller endorses. “Ninety percent of sports played in America require eye-to-hand coordination and that helps for goalkeeping.” Keller, the son of a minor league pitcher, played four sports other than soccer, and Sommer at 6-foot-5 was also a natural at basketball.

Sommer played as a striker until age 13, when his size and accompanying lack of speed necessitated a change of position. The fact that his father had been a goalkeeper made the transition to that position a relatively simple and logical one.

It was also a well-rewarded one. Sommer won the NCAA Division I title with Indiana in 1988, and was finally spotted by Luton Town’s chief scout at a youth tournament in the Netherlands in 1990.

Certainly, Evans’ “natural ability” theory carries some weight with Sommer. He puts parts of his success down to “basic instincts and the fact that the U.S. produces a lot of natural athletes.” Keller, a Portland product, considers himself to be “athletic” and says that Feuer’s first manager at West Ham, Billy Bonds, was “impressed with Ian’s athleticism.”

Pleat is also convinced that this athleticism has a lot to do with Sommer’s impressive standard of play. “He’s good on power shots, he has good upper and lower body weight and he has his height,” he says.

The attraction of analyzing these players’ success in such a functional way, however, is limited. The position of goalkeeper is, after all, a colorful, unique one, one that has been filled by more characters than any other in the game: Pope John Paul II, Vladimir Nabokov and Julio Iglesias, to name but a few. Charmingly, the French novelist Albert Camus even attributed some of his existential theories of life to his experience as a goalkeeper.

Learning pro tricks

With Camus in mind, perhaps, as Ian Evans suggests, you do need to be a bit crazy. If so, Feuer’s achievements are hardly surprising. At the age of 16 he left California on an impulse and went to Belgium. Without any recommendation he turned up at the door of FC Bruges, one of Belgium’s top clubs, and brazenly asked for a trial.

He ended up staying for five years. His time there included a loan spell at RWD Molenbeek, where he made most of his first-team appearances, and he only returned to the U.S. to play for the APSL’s L.A. Salsa after a contractual dispute with Bruges.

Such confidence is the minimum requirement for survival as a keeper in the English game“The English league is the most demanding on keepers without a doubt,” says Keller. “The ball is in the penalty area so much.”

Keller, no naif, has learned to cope, as was nicely illustrated in a game against rival promotion contender Sunderland two seasons ago. Millwall went 2-0 ahead, before Sunderland got into the game. Keller, playing brilliantly, could not prevent Sunderland striker Don Goodman from getting a goal back with 20 minutes left to play. As Keller went to pick the ball out of the net, Goodman rushed to grab it from his arms so as to prevent any time-wasting.

Keller lightly cuffed Goodman on the head. Goodman then threw his elbow at Keller’s face, but missed. Knowing that the referee had turned in time to see Goodman’s retaliation, Keller showed his nous by dropping to the floor, clutching his face.

“I’ve always said I should have been sent off with Don,” admits Keller. He wasn’t, Goodman was, and Millwall beat its deflated opponent. Keller has become an astute professional.

All the Americans seem to enjoy the aggression in England. “The big difference,” says Feuer, “is that you can’t just call for the ball at corners and expect everyone to stand back.” That is no negative assessment, however. Feuer likes England. “This,” he says, “is the place to be.”

Sommer agrees: “The speed of the English game and the enormous desire to win suits the U.S. mentality.” Where better, then, to show your desire to win than in the last line of defense? It’s a harder theory to prove than the one based on physical attributes, but it has that convincing hint of the gut emotion that gives soccer its unparalleled appeal.

That said, when things aren’t going so well the demands off the game take some getting used to. Pleat says Sommer is “still coming to terms with the harsh realities of tough post-match language.” Keller, hardly a delicate blossom himself, also comments that “the fans and players are very critical”.

Keepers are highly exposed to the stream of verbal abuse that opposing fans and, on bad days, their own fans can hurl in their direction. “They’re right in back of you,” says Keller, “and they don’t miss anything.”

Soccer is still a strongly blue-collar sport in England, with intense rivalries. Crucial mistakes by goalkeepers are appallingly obvious, the results often critical. It requires a certain mettle to deal with such pressure.

Yet the reward for success is cult status. The English public is likely to continue admiring American goalkeepers as long as the American keepers continue to admire the English game. “English football has skill, talent, aggression, great fans and tradition,” says Feuer. Talk like that and you endear yourself to your supporters.

The only surprise is that the keepers haven’t endeared themselves to the bosses of the U.S. national team. Keller has just eight international caps, Sommer two, and Feuer has merely been on the bench twice.

Not surprisingly, Feuer is critical of the U.S. authorities. “The English-based keepers have been overlooked,” he says, “which is ridiculous as this is the toughest league for keepers.”

Keller is more reserved. “The keepers in England just don’t get the exposure back in the U.S.,” he explains.

For all his exposure, Alexi Lalas was soon exposed as a lightweight in the daily demands of the full-time game. Keller, Sommer and Feuer, on the other hand, have now proved their professionalism, technique and consistency in one of the most exacting leagues in the world. If the U.S. is to build on its success at the World Cup, it had better take a closer at these mad dogs playing among Englishmen.

by Soccer America correspondents Joe Boyle and Simon Kuper