He's just a kid, spindly and lean, his flailing arms and churning legs only slightly scrawnier, or so it appears, than his narrow torso and hips.
He's always smiling, or seems to be, and the engaging grin and infectious laugh offset the gold chain that curls around his neck and hangs down to mid-chest, where dangles an attached golden ''7'' the size and heft of those seen on the fronts of houses.
He's only 20, but already he's played three professional seasons and dazzled foreign scouts as an under-17, under-20 and full international. (He sat out the 2000 Olympics but is eligible for 2004.)
He's the Beez, the son of Henry and Joetta, the brother of Jamar, the pride of Ft. Wayne, Ind. With Landon Donovan locked up by MLS for at least two more seasons, Beasley is a leading candidate to go Euro later this year when his contract expires.
Yet he's also the type of exciting performer MLS desperately needs to attract fans, the slashing, daring, hip young dude who can spin defenders off their feet or tear past them on the dribble.
Beez is on the beam to go abroad. Some day.
''I'm not worried about going to Europe right now,'' he said during training camp in Florida for U.S. matches against Argentina and Jamaica. ''I'm worried about this [U.S.] team. There's a lot of games coming up and with the Fire I've got a lot of bigger responsibilities than I did last year with Peter [Nowak] gone and Hristo [Stoitchkov] gone and Dema [Kovalenko] and Josh [Wolff]. Those are four top players.''
At 20, DaMarcus Beasley is entering his fourth pro season and has one World Cup under his belt. For all his flashy moves, his coaches admire most his defensive work. The rebuilding Chicago Fire will need all of Beasley's talents in what could be his last MLS season before heading to Europe.
A move overseas nearly happened last summer. Beasley got a bit steamed at MLS for turning down an offer from Middlesbrough while awaiting a richer deal with Ajax. Neither got done, yet he insists he's put away the disappointment.
''But that's business,'' he says. ''Europe is a dream of mine, and I want to go at some point, but I'm not in any rush. I want the right situation at the right time with the right team.''
ONE YEAR AGO. His odyssey to World Cup starter began a year ago at the Gold Cup. He scored a stunning stoppage-time winner to beat South Korea in the opener. As the weeks and games unfolded, his value increased.
When the team convened for its final domestic training camp in Cary, N.C., last May 1, Beasley's slight (5-foot-8, 140 pounds) frame had yet to wilt.
''I can't recall the moment when the light bulb went on but I remember a year prior to the World Cup saying playing young guys in the opening game of the World Cup would be a long shot,'' says Dave Sarachan, who was the U.S. assistant coach last year and left that job to mentor Beasley with the Fire. ''We went through the Gold Cup and the friendlies, and each time the consistency remained high with DaMarcus and Landon. Each time at the end of training and games, they stayed strong, and we realized not only are they surviving but they're helping. Throughout that period and in Cary, it was pretty clear they were going to be a part of things.''
Beasley's rise to this rarefied level is not a surprise to someone who sent him on the path.
Mark Wellington saw Beasley playing as a 7-year-old in the McDonald's Youth Select Soccer League (MYSSL). Beasley resembles a missile when he launches himself into attacks but that's not what Wellington noted at first sight.
''He was tiny, and, frankly, there were several kids on his team that were faster than he was,'' recalled Wellington, who coached Beasley from age 8 until he left Ft. Wayne to join the U.S. under-17 residency camp in Bradenton, Fla. ''Speed was not his primary weapon back then. It was genuinely more a matter of touch and finesse and understanding and vision.
''From Day 1, you looked at him and said this was a kid who could really be a player. He always had good vision of the field, he always made good decisions on the ball, and defensively he pestered the crap out of you until you gave up the ball prematurely, just like he does now. In some ways, he's the same.''
This is the Dichotomy of DaMarcus. Fans marvel at his speed and attacking abilities, but coaches and teammates laud his tracking and tackling.
''DaMarcus is a very good defensive player,'' says U.S. national team coach Bruce Arena, who started Beasley in the most important game of Arena's career, the World Cup 20002 opener against Portugal. ''He's so alert and sees everything on the field. In just about every game, he's made a pretty good play at that end of the field.''
One of the critical moments of the 1-0 loss to Argentina in the Orange Bowl was Beasley's sliding block of a point-blank shot by Ariel Garce.
''Not too many people talk about his defensive abilities,'' says Carlos Bocanegra, a teammate for club and country. ''He shuts down the right side of the team not only with his offense but he gets back on defense really well.''
U.S. midfielder Richard Mulrooney says, ''If you take the ball away from him, most likely he's going to poke it back away from you or you're going to make a bad pass because he's pressuring you so much. Unbelievable, just unbelievable, the way he's developed.''
ATTACKING MODE. Ever since he and his older brother Jamar started playing soccer, the onus was on offense. On the basketball court, DaMarcus played point guard, always with an eye on taking it to the hoop.
''I loved to be scoring goals,'' he says. ''Me and my brother were always confident, always competitive and hated to lose. That's just how we were.
''My brother and I just had some God-given talent. We'd always find ourselves leaving basketball or football practice to go to soccer practice. We just had a love for the game. It's never stopped, and I don't think it ever will.
''I just wanted to be me and play like me. Go at people, get crosses in, shoot, dribble, be myself. That's my game, use my speed and quickness to get around defenders.''
Donovan jokes about Beasley growing up ''in the hood,'' but, in truth, his successful parents raised DaMarcus and Jamar in a nice Ft. Wayne subdivision. It was, however, not the soccer section of town.
''My school friends and all my boys I grew up with, none played soccer,'' says Beasley. ''None. They didn't even like soccer. They said it was a girls sport, why play soccer?
''I played basketball and I had to give that up my sophomore year. They didn't like soccer, and none of my boys came to any of my games.
''They come now. They call and say, 'Beez, what's up? I saw you on TV.' But it's cool. I see where they're coming from. Soccer wasn't big back then, and MLS was just starting.''
Arena and Wellington agree that Beasley sees crevices and openings his teammates sometimes miss. The opportunities triggered by Beasley at the World Cup haven't been as plentiful in the four friendlies played since then.
''I think at times he's looking to get played in, and his teammates don't see it,'' says Wellington. ''He's great with the ball at his feet, but there's more to his game than that.
''There's something going on in his brain that other folks don't have and they're never going to have. Sometimes you see kids who are 8 or 9 and they've got the spark, they've figured it out.''
Beasley had a lot to figure out last season with the Fire. He played all over the park. Injuries decimated the team, and on ample occasions he drew on his savvy and sense of space.
''At the beginning of the season last year, I played left back and I played everywhere,'' he says of a season in which Chicago nearly missed the playoffs for the first time. ''I played center mid, up front, left mid, left back, right mid, just about every position except goalie.''
Sarachan may move him around in a quest to produce goals with four attackers gone. For all his brio and boldness, Beasley's three goals and four assists in 19 games last season are the high marks of his MLS career. He's a young veteran but a veteran nonetheless.
''We've grown up pretty fast,'' he says. ''Me and Landon have been through a lot, and it helps to have a lot under your belt at such a young age. I'm still a young player and I've got a lot to learn.''
Older U.S. teammates like Mulrooney, 26, don't relish facing him in league matches.
''I hate to go up against him,'' says Mulrooney, who has done just that often enough. ''Like they say on ESPN, you just hope to contain him.''
MLS just hopes to retain him.
by Soccer America Senior Editor Ridge Mahoney