If one man’s heaven is another man’s hell, there’s no question where the latter would be for most soccer players. Sited in a valley nearly a mile and a half above sea level, surrounded by mountains, and smack in the middle of one of the world’s thickest smog belts, Mexico City has been the bane of many soccer nations. England and West Germany have lost here, and so have Brazil and Argentina. At the foreboding Canedo Stadium, site of the 1970 and 1986 World Cup finals, players cough and hack in a poisonous brew of smog, heat and altitude. When facing a good Mexican team — like the current one crafted by former U.S. head coach Bora Milutinovic — in a match that matters, the obstacles are nearly insurmountable. “Mexico comes at you in waves,” says goalkeeper Brad Friedel, who will start for the U.S. Nov. 2 while Kasey Keller recovers from a dislocated thumb. “At the start of the game, and at the start of the second half, they always come out flying.” A result is not essential for the U.S., but it must avoid a blowout, and cannot afford to incur yellow cards. Claudio Reyna will miss the match through suspension after picking up a second yellow against Jamaica. Among those with one yellow are John Harkes, Ernie Stewart, Eric Wynalda, Mike Burns, Marcelo Balboa, Roy Lassiter, Tab Ramos, Joe-Max Moore, Alexi Lalas, and Friedel. In other words, more than half of the probable starting lineup. In its home matches during the final qualifying round, Mexico has routed Jamaica 6-0, thumped Canada 4-0, and drilled El Salvador, 5-0. Mexico needs only a point to clinch the spot in France ’98 that the other five CONCACAF finalists conceded to it months ago. That’s all the American players are conceding to their southern neighbor, though. The U.S. began training Oct. 15 at altitude and in smog to better withstand the noxious conditions in the Mexican capital. Head coach Steve Sampson brought all his available players to the Southern California mountain resort of Big Bear Lake, which sits 6,800 feet above sea level, 18 days before it plays in Mexico. The team will also scrimmage and train in smoggy conditions. Mexico isn’t invincible in its national stadium; it only seems that way. During its hosting of the 1970 and 1986 World Cups, Mexico was held to ties in Mexico City during first-round play, and subsequently was knocked out when it had to move to other cities for its quarterfinals. It has lost a handful of friendlies over the past few decades, and Costa Rica earned a 1-1 tie in the 1993 CONCACAF Gold Cup when the teams traded own goals. Of course, 10 days after tying Costa Rica, Mexico blasted the U.S. 4-0 in the championship match. The U.S. and Mexico have met seven times since then, but all seven matches were played north of the border, and not in the stadium formerly known as Azteca and renamed this year in memory of Guillermo Canedo, who organized the 1970 and ’86 World Cups and was a force in FIFA politics for more than two decades.

A tendency to fatigue quickly

Although the U.S. has won three of the last seven meetings with Mexico, its all-time record in Mexico City for games U.S. Soccer recognizes as full internationals is 0-17. Dozens of teams have gone into Mexico City prepared and motivated, only to drag themselves home with their eyes and pride still stinging. “The challenges of Mexico City have been felt by all athletes going down there,” says the U.S. team doctor, Bert Mandelbaum, who was on the trip to Mexico City for the 1993 Gold Cup final. “I remember looking at Roy Wegerle in ’93 and just seeing what a horrible time he had breathing, and I was actually feeling the same way with the altitude, and more than that, the intense smog with high carbon-monoxide levels and who knows what other pollutants in the air. “You really get a tendency to fatigue quite quickly. It puts a lot of pressure on the athlete physically and psychologically.” Several members of the national team were on the Olympic squad that won 2-1 in Mexico City during qualifying for the 1992 Summer Games, but that game was played at night in the Azulgrana Stadium, not Canedo. It also rained, which cooled and cleansed the air somewhat. Former Olympic head coach Lothar Osiander did not prepare the team at high altitude for that qualifier. He kept the team in Southern California for 10 days of rigorous, intense training sessions. “Basically, he just killed us the whole time,” recalls midfielder Chris Henderson. “We just trained really hard, and then took it easy for two days before we left. We went in [to Mexico] 72 hours before [the game], stayed in a hotel right near the airport, played the game, and left. So it was in and out.” Cobi Jones played all 90 minutes in the Olympic qualifier, but could only last a few minutes into the second half the following year in the Gold Cup. He was replaced by Dominic Kinnear in the 52nd minute. “I remember coughing up a lung at halftime, and coming out,” he says. “It was tough that time.” The U.S. midfielder occasionally suffers from breathing difficulties, which he says are a lingering aftereffect of a bout with walking pneumonia during his college days at UCLA. “I thought I had the flu or something, so I played with it for a couple of weeks,” he says. “Then I got checked out. It damaged my lungs a little bit. Ever since then, I’ve been really sensitive to smog. It’s gotten better in the last four years.”

‘We have to play our game’

Searing temperatures as those the U.S. suffered through in 1993 aren’t likely this time. The ’93 Gold Cup final was played in late July with temperatures in the high 90s. Normal temperatures for early November are in the low 70s. That leaves only the smog and altitude and 120,000 roaring fanatics to deal with. “One thing we can’t do is let the crowd get into the game and try to force us to do things by booing and whistling,” says Jones. “We have to play our game and keep our minds on what we need to do. Most studies state a minimum of three weeks is required for full climatization to take place. Mandelbaum does not question that assertion, yet feels any attempt to adapt is preferable to no preparation at all. “If you have no choice, you have no choice,” he says. “It’s best to have some climatization rather than none. “The pollutants in the air tend to cause broncho-spasms, and so the airways just don’t function fluidly and people feel like they can’t get a deep breath.” As for the altitude, Mandelbaum says, “You don’t have the efficiency of oxygen delivery to the tissue. As a consequence, your aerobic potential is much diminished.” According to Jones and Friedel, the players began to feel changes after five days of training at Big Bear. At altitude, the body gradually produces more red-blood cells and also develops more of the component that facilitates the carrying of oxygen. “It’s a lot easier to run around now,” said Friedel. “The first couple of days, you’re gasping for breath. You’re not used to it, sometimes you feel a little dizzy. We finally adapted to it. We’re at about the same [level] as Mexico City, so we’ll be used to it.” Jones says, “When you’re on the wings, running up and down, it makes it extremely difficult. We [Los Angeles Galaxy] play in Pasadena, close to the San Bernardino area, where it’s always smoggy. That’s still not good enough preparation for Mexico City.”

Harkes to replace Reyna in the middle

The U.S. task is complicated by the absence of Reyna, one of the few American players capable of holding the ball under hard pressure. Sampson plans on deploying the team in a 4-4-2 formation and will slide Harkes from the left flank into the middle. Conceding an early goal, as the U.S. did in the 12th minute of the ’93 Gold Cup final, would further lessen its chances to scrape out a result. After Ignacio Ambriz opened the scoring, nearly 20 minutes of constant Mexican attacks yielded an own goal by Desmond Armstrong, and the U.S. had no chance to rally in the second half. “I think everybody will be ready to go into Mexico,” says Jones, “and also just to leave here.” By Soccer America Senior Editor Ridge Mahoney