Another lopsided defeat in the Confederations Cup.

Brazil 3, the United States 0.

Difficult to be angry with anyone after this. Some guys played a bit worse than others (DaMarcus Beasley, good luck in your future endeavors, whatever they might be), but after this match, a comprehensive defeat, and the Italy match (a 3-1 defeat) it’s time to concede …

1. Forget that “No. 14 in the world” ranking. The American side isn’t remotely in the same neighborhood as the planet’s elite.

2. The American side may, actually, be weaker right this moment than it has been in two decades.

So, yes, the “weakest in two decades thing.” That takes us back to what is now almost the pre-history of U.S. soccer, when the college all-star team that was the U.S. squad in the 1989 World Cup qualifying … scraped into the 1990 World Cup thanks to a miracle goal at Trinidad. They then were severely outclassed in three consecutive matches, in Italia 1990, and hurried home.

The childlike (and almost universally held) notion in the U.S. soccer community, since 1990, is that the Americans are on a steady march forward in terms of First XI ability and depth of national talent. Remember, back in 1998, when Project 2010 was created? The premise was this: The U.S. was going to win the 2010 World Cup. Well, sure. The increased professionalism of the U.S. national team, the emphasis on age-group coaching and competition, the creation of Major League Soccer … all that had to ensure a steady, inexorable climb in competence. Of course it did.

Well, it did not. And why should it have?

Why do serious soccer nations such as Portugal, Hungary, Sweden, even France and England, talk about (and admit to) “a golden generation” — that 3-4-5 years when a surge of talent comes through the national team for reasons that defy planning or rationalization? Yet the United States was somehow immune from fluctuations in the talent pool?

The U.S. appears to be in a talent trough, right now. Unless the coaching staff is so incompetent (and I do not believe this) that gifted soccer players are floating around the country but have not been identified. That might have been possible,  maybe, before MLS. But not since. Anyone who can play is snapped up by the talent-hungry MLS and is out there to be seen by the national team.

When the national team does badly (and it has not been impressive for more than a few minutes at a stretch in all of 2009),  soccer fans begin to criticize the selection of the players on the field. Then they turn to the coach and question his tactics and formations.

But, eventually, rational observers have to strip this subject to its basics and ask some hard questions:

Does our current group of (allegedly) elite players have some sort of obvious advantage over top-tier opponents? Are we bigger? Faster? Technically better? Tactically superior? Better organized? Better conditioned? Mentally tougher?

For a time, the U.S. did have a few advantages, even on an international level (and not just in the guppy bowl that is CONCACAF). The Americans generally were bigger, conferring an advantage in restarts; generally better-conditioned and, yes, mentally tougher. How do we know that? Because of the high ratio of restart goals scored by the U.S. throughout its modern history. Because almost inevitably it was the opposition dragging through the final 10 minutes while the Americans still had some life in their legs. Because the Americans — and they gained a global reputation for this — never gave up. Never. They played hard till the end, bitter or otherwise.

Now? The U.S. has decent size,  but not enough to make a difference against large chunks of the world’s elite. To wit: Italy and Brazil, who gave up little or no size in the box on restarts in this tournament.

Meanwhile, the U.S. advantage in conditioning seems to have evaporated. Against Brazil today, the Yanks seemed exhausted by the 25th minute. It was no accident that the Beasley whiff on the short corner kick from Landon Donovan led almost instantly to a 3-on-1 break (and Robinho goal). It was a length-of-the-field dash, which only Jonathan Spector was able to match, and it came just after a series of brutal sprints. The Americans not only weren’t going to catch Ramires and Robinho, they couldn’t keep up with them, and American torpor thereafter was at least as much about being flat exhausted as it was being down 2-0 to Brazil.

And mental toughness? Still a bit of it out there, as shown by the last-10-minutes rally at El Salvador in a qualifier back in March, but it is fading, that iron will.  It is going away. Which may say something about the current crop of players, in terms of character, but also may indicate that, as our players become more fully professional (and cynical) that they understand when they are in a hopeless situation … and, as Latin teams famously do, essentially give up.

So, let’s name names. Who on the current U.S. team is someone who clearly should be in the starting 11 and could, perhaps, start for other competent (but not great) international teams?

It is a short list. Tim Howard and Landon Donovan. (And Donovan makes the list only because we assume he would be in a supporting role, not asked to assume a starring one, in some solid international side.) After that? Carlos Bocanegra and Oguchi Onyewu. Perhaps. The Clint Dempsey, version 2006.1.

And we are about done. Notice the lack of finishers in that list. Notice the lack of numbers.

After those five, the U.S. is running out there guys who are 1) nothing special in MLS, 2) reserves or role players in top Euro leagues or 3) just regular guys in lesser Euro leagues.

And collecting them together means they can hang with Italy and Brazil? Well, of course not.

When was the U.S. Golden Generation? It has happened, sort of, twice.

The first was the 1994 team, when the college kids of 1990 had grown up and the U.S. had gone out and found some quasi-Americans who could get U.S. passports.  That was the team that got to the second round of the World Cup (albeit at home, yes, and with the aid of a famous Colombia own goal) and included Eric Wynalda, John Harkes, Tony Meola, Paul Caligiuri, Marcelo Balboa, Cobi Jones, Dutch-American Earnie Stewart and German-American Thomas Dooley. Plus two guys who were, pretty much, American, but had been born in Uruguay, Tab Ramos and Fernando Clavijo.

Those guys weren’t world-beaters, but it was a team that had at least one of everything. One strong forward up top (Wynalda),  an attacking midfielder (Ramos), a holding mid (Harkes),  two decent, offense-oriented wingers (Stewart and Jones), a couple of decent inside defenders (Balboa and Lalas), some competent outside defenders (Dooley, Caligiuri and Clavijo). There wasn’t much depth, but the First XI was solid. Decent.  And established the U.S. reputation for mental toughness and aerobic capacity. (Perhaps because many of them had no club team and saved all their energy for internation soccer.)

Then there was the 2002 team. With veterans Claudio Reyna, Brian McBride, Frankie Hejduk, Eddie Pope, Brad Friedel,  Jones and Stewart … suddenly augmented by a batch of frisky and fearless kids: Donovan, Beasley and Clint Mathis. It was a nice confluence of talent, with a clear leader in the middle (Reyna), competent strikers up top (McBride and Mathis), two speed-burner wings (Donovan and Beasley) and an outstanding keeper (Freidel). They got to the World Cup quarterfinals and deserved it.

Since then, however, how has the U.S. team improved? Who has broken into the squad in the seven years since then who is a difference-maker? Onyewu? Conor Casey? Sorta, but they are the same age as Donovan and the fading Beasley. Bocanegra already had appeared with the U.S., as had Brian Ching.

So, who?

Freddy Adu? An overhyped bust. Jozy Altidore? He’s had a couple of good matches, but he probably won’t break through as long as he remains nailed to the bench with his Spanish club team.  Michael Bradley? Sacha Kljestan? Jonathan Bornstein or Jonathan Spector? Heath Pearce,  Juan Francisco Torres? Ricardo Clark? Maurice Edu?

None has been a consistent difference-maker or, aside from Bradley, a regular presence in the starting lineup.

So, we take the historic technical and tactical shortcomings of U.S. teams, which has never gone away, and fuse them with an aging core, waning willpower and a proliferation of teams as big as the Yanks … well, now we’ve got issues.

And another beating could be only days away. Egypt defeated Italy today, 1-0, and can advance to the Confederations Cups semifinals with a defeat of the (no doubt) spent and demoralized Yanks. We could have another ugly match ahead, unless this team summons some skill and will we haven’t seen in a year or five.

What can be done? Well, we can start with avoiding red cards against elite opponents. In three matches vs. Italy and Brazil going back to 2006, the U.S. has accrued four red cards. Two of them in the first half, the other two shortly thereafter. Hey, when you’re playing a great team, don’t fly into tackles after the ball has gone, right?

Also, the U.S. needs to get back out there and start recruiting the semi-Americans. This generation of Thomas Dooleys and Earnie Stewarts.  Sure, you would rather win with guys born and raised here, but the talent there is lacking, for now. If veteran midfielder Jermaine Jones of the German Bundesliga wants to take advantage of his American father, well, go bring him in. Stat. When you can’t grow your own, go out and find someone else’s. There have to be more of them out there.

And the U.S. has to do a better job of nailing down talented kids born here — but now playing for other countries. To wit, Italian midfielder Giuseppe Rossi and Mexican defender Edgar Castillo. For starters.

That is how you plug the holes created from a decline in talent from your traditional sources.

At least the scales have fallen from our eyes. What the U.S. national soccer team is about, right now, is a solid team in its region, but an overmatched one on the world stage. This team will qualify for the World Cup but, barring some freakish luck, will not survive the group stage. That is where U.S. soccer is right now, and it’s time for realistic onlookers to realize it. There really isn’t a point in excoriating these guys. It’s not like they’re not trying. They’re just not that good.