It’s that dreary, old American rhythm: build somebody up; tear them down.  And then once they’re down, demand a comeback. No comeback, no legend. No ticky, no laundry. 

And who better to tear down these days than “Landy Cakes” Donovan, in 1999 the doe- eyed wunderkind at Bayer Leverkusen, now a decade later, a 29-year-old divorced white male who said recently after his latest return from Europe, and his decision not to return to Everton:  “I need to rest and recover…. I’m tired.”

Tired?  Why the hell is he tired? After all the accolades, after all the bowing and scraping to his princeness, after that hail-mary-mother-of-god goal in South Africa, why you’d think he’d still be running on Nitro.

Or has he had enough of European foul play?  Was it just too tough in the end….

Hey bartender, get me another Rooney. Or better, have you got some Zidane?

If Zidane is at one end of a spectrum, Donovan is at the other. 

Hence the argument that if you want to win a World Cup these days you don’t need babies found floating down the Nile in Adidas bags, you don’t need prodigies, you need boys from immigrant back streets, fatherless relentless boys, dead-eyed boys and always a little grumpy, boys who, come to think of it, enjoy violence.

Donovan is old school.  A great player perhaps but from a past era.  It’s the difference between Jane Austen and Lady Gaga. He comes from that period when a trip or a shove brought soccer moms out of their fold-up chairs in a rage.

On the other hand, what a life it’s been. Over 11 years in his senior career, Donovan has scored 203 goals in 471 appearances.  And look at the individual honors, which include among others: US Player of the Year:  2003, 2004, 2009, 2010. MLS MVP, 2009. Everton Player of the Month, January 2010. And, ESPN SportsNation Awesomest Dude of 2010.

Awesomest Dude?

In an interview with the New York Times last March, Eric Wynalda, noted, “If he is the best we’ve got, you would hope he would try to be the best he can, in Europe, and not take the easy way out in MLS. We have tended to put him on a pedestal and say, ‘Look how great a player we have in this country,’ and then Landon shies away from proving it.”

When could you start to see this coming? 

After the World Cup in 2006, we began to see Dr. Donovan and Mr. Landon: the timid Donovan who was nearly invisible against the Czech Republic, but the dominant midfielder against Italy. 

Asked that year whether he would return to Europe he was quoted as saying, “I’d probably become a better soccer player just from the day-in, day-out grind of it there, but I wouldn’t be a better person. I wouldn’t be a happy person. I’d be pretty miserable.”

Does that sound like someone who wants to be a better player?

The truth may be that Donovan never liked Europe, on any level. He once called the food “crappy” and talked about how much he missed Americana: the hamburger, the beach and the women. 

And then there was that little business with Beckham, when Mr. Spice guy arrived at the Galaxy and Donovan claimed to Sports Illustrated that Beckham didn’t like the quality of play among his teammates and wasn’t subtle with his condescension. 

I, for one, remember that very first game with the two of them. Donovan had always taken the corner kicks and the free kicks.  But with the very first corner kick of the game Beckham explained that were some changes.

And in body language he added, “and little Landy Cakes if you’ll just go stand over there everything will soon become apparent…”

Here’s some psychobabble:  In 1999, on a Florida golf course, Donovan mistook an alligator for a rock.  But for his coach he would be playing in the wheel chair Olympics. 

So shall we forgive the kid who maybe just wants to go back to Manhattan Beach, walk down The Strand, watch the girls volley with the balls, reconsider a life.

But wait a minute, there’s one other thing.  From the yellow press:  Donovan, whose salary for 2010 was $2,127,778, which is eclipsed in the MLS only by David Beckham, is suing his ex-wife for spousal support and attorney’s fees.  His ex-wife, Blanca Kajlich, is an actress.  No doubt you saw the ever memorable, Halloween: Resurrection.

What kind of man is that?

It’s head-butt time, folks.

My prediction for 2011: Landon Donovan, always the object of bipolar desire, you love him when he scores and hate him the rest of the time, will begin to fade from view. There will be no comeback.

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