Kyle Beckerman was a considerate kid, the kind who would leave his mom a note whenever he left the house.
He could be playing soccer or be going swimming or just be on his way to see a friend, but the handwritten words closing each letter always remained the same — Beckerman’s autograph, followed by “USA #15,” representing his future number on the U.S. national soccer team.
“He’s been thinking about it all his life,” older brother Todd Beckerman told The Post Saturday afternoon, fresh off a plane from Brazil, where his entire family went to watch the U.S. advance to the Round of 16 in the World Cup. “He did that an early age, so we didn’t know what to think, but the best athletes, they set their goals and strive for them until they get them.”
There was no foresight, no Nostradamus or Namath-like vision foretelling the future. There was the wishful thinking of a prepubescent boy in suburban Maryland, the thinking shared by countless kids who have yet to discover the inherent athletic limitations that eventually turn such fanciful notions into nothing more than fun ways to pass the time.
Though his international career started fast, including key goals in a surprising fourth-place finish in the Under-17 World Cup in New Zealand in 1999, he didn’t make his first appearance with the senior team until 2007.
Three years later, Beckerman was an MLS All-Star and contributor to the national team, but when the U.S. advanced to the World Cup’s Round of 16, on Landon Donovan’s unforgettable goal against Algeria, Beckerman celebrated like most of the country — as a spectator.
Left off the roster, the kid had quickly turned 28, and would be 32 and probably past his prime when the next opportunity arose. The dream was just about done.
“I felt mentally as if my national team career was really done,” Beckerman told ESPNFC. “I told myself it had been a lot of fun. … And I rationalized it away by saying at this level, everyone is good, so it comes down to coaches’ preference and I was not a preference of [coach Bob Bradley].”
Jason Kreis, his coach of eight seasons at Real Salt Lake, understood Beckerman’s plight, as another domestic star who never received a similar opportunity in international play.
“We talked about it quite a bit,” Kreis said. “I know that it was a very frustrating situation for him. I give him a lot of credit for sticking with it … all the credit goes to him and his character and his fortitude to fight through what has not always been a smooth sailing, upward trajectory in his career path.”
A new coach changed everything. A new face meant a new opportunity.
He’s just a guy who always is in the right spot. Maybe for the casual fan he can go unnoticed, but he doesn’t go unnoticed to us. He’s a smart player, he knows where to be. He knows the game.
- U.S. defender Matt Besler
When Jurgen Klinsmann took over in 2011, Beckerman became a mainstay in a crowded midfield, though one far from assured a spot on this year’s World Cup squad, as he essentially auditioned in every appearance during qualifying.
His game doesn’t widen eyes, and most often his mane is known before his name. Sporting dreadlocks that haven’t been cut in nine years, the intertwined hairs sloppily fall past his shoulders and hypnotically swing from side to side, a handshake to strangers.
Having played every minute of the competition thus far, Beckerman’s defensive-minded, physical play has been vital in shutting down the middle of the field and creating space for teammates to move forward. He stops attacks from becoming chances, slams doors before keys can be removed.
“Kyle is a security blanket for us,” U.S. defender Matt Besler said in Brazil. “He’s just a guy who always is in the right spot. Maybe for the casual fan he can go unnoticed, but he doesn’t go unnoticed to us. He’s a smart player, he knows where to be. He knows the game. It might be the time to take a foul, it might be the right time to kick the ball out of bounds to play smart, and it might be the right time to keep the ball. He just always seems to make the right decision.”
His first big decision may have been the biggest of his life.
Raised by two teachers, Margaret and Paul, Beckerman always followed his brother (four years his senior) around, playing soccer because he did. Starting as just another 4-year-old coached by his parents, Kyle Beckerman quickly excelled, even against his brother’s friends, and evolved into an 8-year-old mesmerized in 1990 by his country’s first World Cup appearance in 40 years, making his mother search through the channels to find the games and tape them, which he would then repeatedly watch.
He played football, baseball and lacrosse, and was a gifted wrestler, having won a state title as a freshman at DeMatha High School.
But there never really was a choice. There was a calling.
In eighth grade, Beckerman left an all-day wrestling tournament and forfeited the semifinals of the state championship to attend an Olympic Development Program soccer tryout.
“It kind of came to that point, where he had to decide what route he wanted to go,” Todd Beckerman said. “He just had a passion for sport. He just loved playing.”
While his brother — currently the wrestling coach at Brown — had become an All-American at Nebraska, an 18-year-old Beckerman skipped college to join the fledgling Miami Fusion of the much-maligned MLS.
After two seasons of minimal action, the team folded and Beckerman was picked up by the Colorado Rapids, where his game began to grow, as he transitioned from an attacking player to defensive midfield. In 2007, he was traded to Real Salt Lake, where he was named team captain the next season and has been ever since, becoming a five-time All-Star and winning the 2009 MLS Cup.
Intense on the field, the heavily tattooed 32-year-old reverts to a laid-back Jekyll off the pitch. A fan of reggae music and fly fishing, Beckerman plays guitar and skateboards, and has created a high-end line of T-shirts. His lack of higher education inspired him to become a voracious book reader and history enthusiast.
“He’s a unique individual in that if you meet him, you’d have thought you just met some guy who’s been hanging out at the beach all his life, playing some music on his guitar and just hanging around,” Kreis said. “But when you talk about the game, you begin to realize very quickly that he cares about it very much and doing everything he can for his team.
“Some of his calmness carries over to the field. When he’s focused and in the right frame of mind, he can be an extremely calming influence out there when things are all hectic around him.”
Former teammate and coach Andy Williams often laughed when recounting memories of the curly-haired teenager he met in Miami, whose work ethic and desire to win earned him universal respect among teammates, as he controlled the locker room stereo before games and played the ukulele.
“It’s like an on/off switch when he steps between the lines. He turns into someone completely different,” Williams said. “He has a no-lose attitude, even at practice. It’s just the way he plays. It rubbed on all of us at Real when he got here. He’s a guy that scratches and claws and wants to make everyone else better. He doesn’t need the glory and he brings an edge. You can tell the difference when he’s out there, the national team has a completely different way they play.”
And he will play at least one more game, in his first, and likely last, World Cup — wearing No. 15.
“To be there with him and see him enjoy it, he’s just soaking it all in,” Todd Beckerman said. “[Kyle said], ‘I have to pinch myself after the games,’ It’s almost like an out of body experience.
“It’s unbelievable, just to see his dreams true.”