It’s not the bleach blonde hair, flowery sleeveless sweater, or Comme des Garcons shoes that mark Matuesz Klich out as the coolest footballer in the world as he arrives at DC United’s stadium ahead of their MLS game against Nashville. It’s the grey t-shirt. Grey! In a heatwave! There’s not a bead of sweat on him and I wish the same could be said for me, but only one of us is cool enough to defy the sun.

????#DCvNSH | #AudiPartner pic.twitter.com/Rsa5EFatg8

— D.C. United (@dcunited) July 13, 2024

The problem is, I’m worrying about Klich. It’s not him, it’s me. I arrived in the States a week ago to follow Uruguay in the knockout stages of the Copa America. They’d topped their group, winning all three games and scoring nine goals while doing so. Then I turned up and they failed to score in both games I attended, eventually losing to the ten men of Colombia in the chaos of Charlotte.

DC United need all the luck they can get. They’re bottom of MLS’ Eastern Conference, without a win in two months. They’ve had four players sent off in their last four games. In their previous match against Orlando, they were beaten 5-0. The last thing they need is a Leeds United supporter cheering them on, bringing with them over a century’s worth of bad juju. I get to my seat in the block next to their ‘ultras’ section just in time to witness Klich warming up with a couple of practice shots on goal. He misses the target both times. Mateusz, I am so sorry. It’s not your fault.

It’s a strange build up to the game. The Washington Nationals baseball team are playing across the road against the Savannah Bananas, baseball’s equivalent to the Harlem Globetrotters, whose gimmicks include using bats that have been set on fire, pitching the ball while standing on stilts, and a ‘dad bod’ cheerleading team. The bar before the match is full of fans wearing banana-print shirts that even Klich couldn’t pull off. The TV screens are showing live coverage of the American Cornhole League, in which a middle aged man is getting far too competitive with a teenage lad wearing braces whose mum is cheering him on while he tries to throw a beanbag into a hole in a plank of wood.

In comparison to the baseball, which has sold out, the atmosphere at Audi Field, DC United’s home ground, is subdued. It’s a half, maybe two-thirds full at best. The Scotland rugby union team played there the night before against the USA — please don’t tell Marcelo Bielsa — leaving some bare patches of grass dotted around the pitch. The first twenty minutes explain DC’s league position: they miss the first chance of the game within the opening thirty seconds, then concede a goal straight from a rugby union lineout — a long throw is hurled into the box, Nashville’s striker leaps into the air and flicks the ball on, allowing unmarked winger Tyler Boyd to tap in at the back post.

DC’s ultras respond with an Icelandic thunderclap that coincides with their team contriving to give away a corner with a dodgy back pass all the way from Nashville’s half. Klich stays calm in the middle of it all, shuttling from touchline to touchline so his teammates always have an option to pass the ball to someone who can look after it. He no longer covers ground with the intensity Bielsa demanded of him but his brain is as sharp as ever, rolling the ball underneath his studs while waiting for attackers to run into a space where he can feed them, like he’s back pulling strings at Elland Road. Old habits die hard, though, and after he receives a big round of applause when he goes to take a corner, he fails to beat the first man. You can take the boy out of Leeds, et cetera et cetera.

While Klich controls midfield, there’s an issue ahead of him. Former Aston Villa and Liverpool striker Christian Benteke is playing up front, captaining DC. Benteke averages a goal every other game since moving to MLS, but tonight he either can’t move or can’t be arsed to move, the ball bouncing off him and into the feet of a Nashville player whenever it’s put in his direction.

After going into the break 1-0 down, Klich solves the problem at the start of the second half, placing a corner onto Benteke’s head so he doesn’t have to move an inch, and he nods the ball down into the six-yard box. It falls into the path of winger Cristian Dajome, who has been waiting for a goal even longer than DC have been waiting for a win and was one of the players recently sent off. He can’t miss. The PA pumps out Zombie Nation as the DC ultras finally have something to celebrate.

Klich wins the ball straight back from the restart, and within minutes of the equaliser DC are attacking on the break. The ball rolls across his path and into the feet of Dajome, dribbling towards the edge of Nashville’s penalty area. I’m screaming for him to give the ball to Klich next to him, but Dajome looks up and arrows a shot into the top corner. The stand shakes beneath my feet as the ultras start bouncing in unison.

Bangers only ????

Cristian Dájome scores his second goal in four minutes. pic.twitter.com/lB5PdTN1Jl

— Major League Soccer (@MLS) July 14, 2024

Dajome is the hero, but the remainder of the game is Klich’s chance to thrive. With Nashville preparing to take an attacking set-piece, he winds up an attacker, goes down off the ball, and the ref blows for a DC free-kick as soon as the cross is swung in. DC later win another free-kick and he blocks the Nashville player trying to return the ball quickly, dribbling off with it in the opposite direction. Throughout it all, he’s a safe haven for possession, making sure anyone who seems slightly panicked can pass to him and he’ll look after the rest. He barely misplaces a pass all night. No wonder Jesse Marsch didn’t have a fucking clue what to do with him while Brenden Aaronson was falling over, Marc Roca was meditating, and Weston McKennie was comfort eating.

The full-time whistle confirms a much needed win for DC and Klich casually mills around at the back as his team salute the home support. Just as I’m leaving a fan on the row behind me celebrates Canada taking a late lead against Uruguay in the Copa America’s third-place play-off. He’s watching the game on his phone and shows it to his friend: “Wow! Jesse Marsch is pumped!” I bite my tongue not wanting to ruin the good vibes of a long-awaited three points and head for the underground Metro station back to my hotel, telling myself that Marsch beating Bielsa in a meaningless game doesn’t prove anything.

At the other end of the line, I return to surface level, check my phone, and laugh at the news that Uruguay equalised in stoppage time — seriously, where were Canada’s defenders?! — and won on penalties. Marsch is still lauded as a success, having won one game in eight since he was appointed Canada manager. For all we convince ourselves Leeds United are cursed, football’s harbingers of doom, it feels like a night when fortune is smiling upon us. Even the DC United fans seem to agree. Klich doesn’t get much of a mention in the reaction online, but they’re thanking another former Leeds name for their change in luck: Lloyd Sam was in the commentary box, and everyone knows that DC always win when Lloyd Sam is in the commentary box. ⬢