Sometimes I feel I’m at the far end of the Jurgen Klinsmann must go spectrum.

I believe the German coach of the U.S. national team is an ongoing disaster who is actively making the team worse by denigrating American players and the country’s domestic league … and who continues to bring in faux Yanks, insta-Yanks, especially from Germany, to man many positions in the first XI.

And I believe Klinsmann should be dismissed … yesterday. But not everyone seems as concerned about this as I am.

So, it was a bit fun to run across a writer who seems at least as agitated that Klinsmann is still hanging around, doing a whole lot of nothing.

The new critic on the scene is a fellow named Aaron Timms, apparently an Australian who now lives in New York, who over the past few days has written for The Guardian newspaper of England a pair of Jeremiads against Klinsmann.

This is the big one, a 2,000-word nuking of Klinsmann’s time as coach.

The author’s focus is, foremost, on Klinsmann’s failure to instill a coherent playing style in his five years in charge of the national team, after pledging at his opening press conference, in 2011, to do just that.

Timms writes: “What, exactly, is the style that Klinsmann has given the national team? Thankfully, we can answer that question with some clarity. The U.S. men’s national team is tactically chaotic, inconsistent, frequently embarrassing, and lumbers along as if borne by the force of America’s size and the public’s expectations alone, constantly threatening to fall apart at the seams, flirting with disgrace on a semi-annual basis, its heavily conditional successes a pure function of demographics and scale. In this sense, Klinsmann is right: the style of the U.S. team is a reflection of messy America itself. The USA is the DMV of national football teams: It’s functional in spite of itself, and stays alive because there’s nothing else to take its place.”

Timms says the source of this failure to identify a U.S. way to play is the arc of Klinsmann’s playing career.

He writes: “There are clues to the German’s own drift as a manager in the way he approached the game as a player. Klinsmann was a classic gun for hire, a goal-scoring mercenary who played for seven clubs during his decade-plus at the top in Europe. His whole approach to the game was non-systematic: he was spontaneous, not disciplined, and got by on the strength of his individual skill and virtuosity, rather than playing for the collective according to a rigorously defined plan. His signatures were the spectacular overhead kick and the long-range strike, not the astute combination play or the tap-in produced by clever movement off the ball. A born natural can never turn himself into the type of tactician a successful manager needs to be, probably; planning runs against the grain of Klinsmann the footballer’s innate improvisational intelligence. It’s arguable, in a sense, that the US never should have expected more, and that Klinsmann’s success with a talented and young Germany squad in [the World Cup of] 2006 was a fig leaf for other, more durable failures (such as at Bayern Munich 2008-09).”

I disagree with several points the author attempts to make.

A “playing style” is interesting, in my opinion, but overrated. Brazil’s vaunted “samba” style was a lot more about players than some semi-mystical groupthink that led to all those championships. No one is quite sure what style Brazil plays now.

Timms is correct in claiming the U.S. has never really had a playing style, unless “hanging on for dear life, running hard, sticking together and counter-attacking whenever possible” (my words) is a style.

And, actually, it is, and it served the U.S. fairly well, with knockout-round appearances in three of the past four World Cups, including the quarterfinal run at Korea-Japan in 2002.

I differ more strenuously with Timms’s scorn for previous American coaches, whom he dismisses as a “collection of tracksuit journeymen and weekend hope-for-the-besters who managed the men’s national team before Klinsmann.”

Aside from Bob Gansler, a fine man with a slender resume who took a bunch of college kids to Italy 1990, the U.S. has had coaches who worked out reasonably well. Timms cannot be including Bora Milutinovic, the shaggy Serb who led teams from four nations to various World Cups, including the 1994 U.S. team.

No, he must be referring to Steve Sampson, Bruce Arena and Bob Bradley, the three Americans who preceded Klinsmann.

I would argue that the latter two, in particular, are very astute soccer coaches who understood quite clearly what sort of players they had and got as much as could be expected from teams that never contained more than a handful of world-class performers.

Arena has been the leading coach in Major League Soccer history and masterminded the 2002 World Cup push to the final eight. Bradley’s 2010 team escaped a tough group to get to the final 16 before losing to Ghana in extra time — and a month ago he came within an inch of leading Le Havre to promotion to France’s top flight, Ligue 1, arguably the most significant performance by a U.S. coach in Europe.

But Timms’s opus is worth a read, as is his subsequent “the end is near” analysis of the U.S. position in the 2016 Copa America, for which it is the host team, after a 2-0 defeat at the hands of Colombia.

This second piece includes a link to a Wall Street Journal question-and-answer session with Klinsmann that gives added insight to what the German cares about and values in players.

If Klinsmann’s team does not get at least a draw from its game with Costa Rica on Tuesday, the host team will be out of contention for the eight-team quarterfinals.

Would that sort of face-plant be enough, finally, to get Sunil Gulati, president of the U.S. Soccer Federation, to see the error of his ways, when it comes to the hiring of Klinsmann?

Probably not, but it would certainly heat up the discussion.