British sports journalists use the word “brave” a lot, cheapening it, in the process.

If you are an underdog and don’t get blown out? “Brave.”

If you fall behind early but hang around? “Brave.”

“Brave,” however, almost always refers to a loser. “Thanks for not going belly up” is the conceptual undertow.  Which isn’t brave at all.  It’s being professional.

Which brings us to today’s score from Johannesburg: United States 2, Slovenia 2.

This game was a legitimately brave performance by the U.S., down 2-0 at halftime in a World Cup where a one-goal deficit is enormous … and specifically by the littlest guy on the field, captain-without-portfolio Landon Donovan, who may have played the greatest match of his career.

A recap to get us to 2-0, Slovenia. A Slovenian guy, Valter Birsa, stands over a ball from about 25 yards out, the U.S. back line watches him like curious bystanders, Birsa shoots and Oguchi Onyewu not only doesn’t get a piece of the ball as it whistles past him, he actually moves his head out of the way so as not to be struck by the ball. Which is the normal human reaction, yes, but don’t professional central defenders get paid money to stick their heads in there? That goes down in the 13th minute. One-nil.

Then, in the 42nd, the U.S. gets caught on the offside trap (a tactic I have always, always despised because 1) not getting it right just once in a match probably will beat you and 2) depending on linesmen to call offsides correctly is putting your career in the hands of some random linesman from Outer Mongolia who may not being paying attention). Turns out “Gooch” was the closest defender to the guy, Zlatan Ljubijankic, who went in alone to score on Tim Howard, and now it’s 2-0, which is tantamount to a death sentence, at a World Cup.

Second half, and a curious thing occurred.

If you watch Landon Donovan play … watch him in particular, follow him with your eyes around the field, even when he is off the ball, and I do, because I have covered him since he was 16 and he lived about five miles from me … if you watch Landon Donovan play you saw him shift into American soccer’s answer to Michael Jordan.

Even as the smallest guy on the field (unless it’s Cherundolo) … Landon seemed to impose his will on the match. He went all Kobe Bean Bryant on us.

It’s harder to see, in soccer, particularly when a guy is out on the right wing, as Landon was … but he was a berserker for the final 45 minutes. He must have run four miles. He chased every ball, every play … but intelligently. Even before the 48th minute, whenever the TV camera caught his face, you could see a cold fury in his eyes. I am not a mind-reader, but I have been around the kid enough to be convinced that he had decided, and was communicating (both verbally and by example), “we are not losing today. Not here. Not now. Not today. Not to these guys. I am not meant to go out like this, and you can watch me save the day or you can help me do it.”

(And suddenly I am reminded of the playing of the national anthem, before the match, when the camera panned down the U.S. team, and most guys were singing, which Landon usually does, too, but this time Landon’s lips were sealed, and he was glaring into some middle distance, a look that said to me, “I don’t know about anyone else, but I am going to get a result today or die trying.” Just now remembered this.)

Then came the first goal. Even as pundits were cogitating on Why the Yanks Failed Again.

Cherundolo lofted a ball forward to Landon, streaking up the right flank. Slovenia’s left back went for the steal … and missed. And now Landon is going in alone on goal with the ball at his feet, a sight that has made the blood of many a keeper run cold.

Slovenia’s defense scrambles to catch up. A central defender has an angle on him,  so Landon cannot take the ball into the middle of the field.  Meanwhile, the U.S. offense is not keeping up with him. He is on his own. As Landon approaches the touch line, when he should have had the option of a cross to an onrushing (and probably unmarked) teammate … he is still the only blue jersey in the picture.

Which means he has to shoot and, by God, that is what he is going to do.

But the angle is, at this point in his run, extremely steep. Acute. Landon is maybe three yards from the end of the field. He is moving. Fast. The goalkeeper is properly stationed, at the near post, hands spread out and down, further reducing the real space Landon can shoot into. And a defender is closing fast from his left, which he must have seen in his peripheral vision.

I remember thinking, while watching on the TV in the sports department here in Abu Dhabi, “He can’t score from there; there isn’t enough space.” But Landon Donovan has gone in unmarked on lots of keepers, and he always has a plan. This time? He will get slightly under the ball, maybe an inch lower than usual, and lift it as he crushes it … and at worst will put a hard-struck ball in the keeper’s face … and at best will lift it past him before he can react in the blink-of-an-eye that covers the entirety of this action.

You saw the video (and you can see it here) about halfway through this longish video clip) … and what Landon did was fire a soccer ball through a mail slot, hitting the top of the net. It was that narrow an opening, that steep an angle, right to left as well as up and down.

And his “celebration” was far more a display of seething anger than selfish joy. It was aimed at his teammates. Not at Slovenia. Not at fans. Not for the cameras. It was for the other guys wearing blue. “I just created something out of nothing, and you all saw it. Are you with me?!? Or are you all a bunch of whimpering, sniveling quitters?” I took it as a challenge/warning to everyone else in a blue jersey. “Do not let me down! I am not going through 2006 Germany again! This is my effin’ legacy here!”

Given a ray of hope by Landon’s goal, the U.S. turned up the pressure. Which wasn’t easy, because Slovenia is a very solid side. We can mock their tiny (2 million) population and lack of soccer history, but those guys can play. They are big and athletic and know what they are doing and how to do it within a coherent system. (Something U.S. soccer has never, ever had, but I digress.)

So, even while continuing to chase the game, which is an exercise in pushing to exhaustion and then past it … the U.S. had to deal with the Slovenes coming forward, holding the ball for six or seven passes,  spreading the field, and threatening to score.

Slovenia’s coach apparently got raked over the coals in Ljubljana for not bringing home a victory that would have clinched a second-round berth for his team, but I believe Slovenia tried to kill the game by using the most effective tactics available — holding the ball, coming forward, pressuring the other end. Bunkering in, 10 men in front of the ball, boot it downfield but don’t chase it … maybe only Italy can do that for a full half with any expectation that they will succeed. Slovenia actually made it harder on the Yanks, because the Americans not only had to push, push, push for the second goal … they had to chase, chase, chase to win it back and keep Slovenia from scoring a third goal.

Meanwhile, Landon was everywhere. And here I pause to give Bob Bradley some credit and, yes, I know, it is considered amateurish and even unprofessional for a sports journalist ever to give a coach credit after anything but a victory. But Bob Bradley, three years ago, realized that one of the mistakes of the 2006 World Cup … was about Bruce Arena asking Landon Donovan, his best player, to be at the top of the attack. Right there in the middle of the field. Where he was dealing with imposing central defenders, often lost among them, and easy to double-team, beat up and knock around.

Bradley saw that and realized what had happened and grasped it, and he soon had Landon moved over to the right side of the midfield.  I questioned the move at the time because, to me, it seemed as if Bradley were taking away half the field from the greatest scorer in U.S. soccer history (that’s 43 goals now, by the way) . Instead, what Bradley did was allow Landon to go head to head with another (usually smallish) winger … and then attack up the right against a lone defender, in space, where Landon’s speed and pace and ability to deliver pinpoint passes (unparalleled among any American-born player, by the way) made him a far more dangerous attacking player. And, as an extra added benefit, left him deep enough on the field to work back in defense, which Landon does far better than anyone seems to have noticed because he is the closest thing (along with Frankie Hejduk, who isn’t in South Africa) to a perpetual-motion machine on the U.S. side.

Bravo, Bradley pere.

So, Landon is dropping nice passes in front of people, most of whom are being mugged by Slovenian defenders, and it isn’t working out because the game is hardly being officiated at all by some poor amateur from Mali, (yes, Mali; seriously) who probably never even saw a world-class soccer match until a few years ago. But more on that gentleman in a moment.

In the 82nd minute, Landon has the ball near midfield, right touchline. As always, he knows how many of his teammates are ahead of him, chased by how many defenders, and has done the calculus and picks out the most likely target of the guys pushing forward: Jozy Altidore,  approaching the box. Landon swings in a pass of at least 35 yards, and it lands on Altidore’s head, allowing the play to unfold. Altidore knocks it down, not to the first guy streaking past, but to the second — Michael Bradley. Did Jozy intend this? Let’s be kind and say “yes”. Bradley fils, it turns out, is unmarked, and at about the penalty spot he also aims a hard shot at the keeper’s face — who seems to duck as the ball flies over him, but stays under the bar … for a goal.

It is 2-2, and the Americans — who really have been “brave” — have just become the first team in this World Cup to come back from a two-goal deficit.

Then we move on to the horrendous officiating decision that kept the U.S. from winning, 3-2. Another perfect Landon service (on a restart) ended up on the foot of Maurice Edu, emerging from a 12-man scrum in front of the net, and Edu poked it into the net … only to have the goal waved off by this Malian amateur (Koman Coulibaly, for the record).

We probably all will go to our graves without any idea of what the referee thought was an infraction (offsides, holding,  following too close?), since nearly all of the grabbing and yanking and tackling in the box was perpetrated by Slovenes … because the ref didn’t tell the players on the field or anyone else alive. Far as we know. So, 2-2.

And this may seem weird but … I am not particularly stressed by this. What really mattered was the comeback from 2-0 and the Yanks putting themselves in position to make the second round (and even win the group) … if they can defeat Algeria on Wednesday.

Algeria is no joke (ask England; full time: England 0, Algeria 0), but if the U.S. can’t defeat Algeria, then it doesn’t really deserve to be in the second round. Which seems fair to me in the unfair, unregulated, unstructured world of international soccer.

And now to one small concept which has bugged me for several years now … about who should be the U.S. captain.

I like Carlos Bocanegra. Solid soccer citizen. Hard worker.  Handsome guy. A physical presence.

But the real leader of this U.S. team is Landon Donovan. Period. Anyone who watches the team knows it. I don’t know if he’s the most popular guy on the team (he probably isn’t), but he is this team’s leader. He is the man who sets standards and expects everyone else to live up to them. Landon is 28, and this is his third World Cup rodeo. He has won MLS titles, and played with Beckham, he has suffered in Germany and had a great winter in Everton going against the lights of the Premier League. He has the miles, he has the experience, he has the chops, he has the results, he has the drive and passion to be the leader of this team. Which he is. So why not make it official?

Bocanegra may wear the armband, but Landon Donovan is this team’s leader. Which he demonstrated, anew, on Friday when he decided his team was not going to lose, that it would not be eliminated after two matches. Not this time.

He imposed his will on a game involving 22 professionals and one amateur (the man from Mali) … and led the U.S. to a “brave” result in harsh conditions in South Africa. On a day when several of his teammates (Clint Dempsey, foremost, but also Onyewu and Robbie Findlay, to name three) basically didn’t show up … to a tie that keeps them alive for a spot in the second round.

I believe it was Landon Donovan’s greatest match, given the circumstances, the degree of difficulty and his leadership, both emotional and physical.

If you taped the match, watch it again a month from now.  A year from now. Watch No. 10 killing himself intelligently by working from one touch line to the other. See if you don’t come to the same conclusion.