Right. I've had my tea. I've had my biscuit. I sat down in my chair, opened the laptop, and the first thing I see is Mauricio Pochettino telling the world that the United States are "not far away" from being a top side. After losing two nil. To Portugal. At home. In front of their own fans. In Atlanta, which is apparently a football city now. Don't get me started.

"Small details." That's what Poch said need sorting out. Small details. You know what's a small detail? The garnish on a steak dinner. The font on a matchday programme. The colour of your socks. Conceding two goals and failing to score is not a small detail, Mauricio. That's quite a large detail. That's the whole detail. That IS the detail.

In my day, if I lost two nil at home and told the chairman we were "not far away," he'd have had me far away. Far away from the ground. Far away from the training pitch. Far away from the car park. I'd have been managing a pub team in Skegness by Thursday.

And Pulisic is apparently going through a goal drought now too. Christian Pulisic. The lad who was supposed to be the American Messi. The poster boy. The one they call Captain America, which I always thought was a bit much for a bloke who plays in Milan. He's not scored in how many games now? But apparently that's just a small detail as well. Everything's small when you don't want to face the big picture, isn't it?

Look, I'm not having a go at American football fans. They're passionate. They turn up. They make noise. They've got the stadiums, they've got the money, they've got the World Cup coming to their front garden next summer. But telling them they're nearly there when they've just been outclassed by Portugal is like telling someone who's just failed their driving test that they're "not far away" from Formula One. Technically true if you squint hard enough, but deeply unhelpful.

That's the problem with modern football. Nobody loses any more. They "learn." They "grow." They "take positives." I once lost four nil to Hartlepool on a Tuesday night and my assistant said, "Gaffer, at least we created chances." I sacked him on the bus home. We hadn't created a single chance. Not one. The closest we came to their goal was when our centre half went to shake hands at full time.

Pochettino is a good manager. I'm not disputing that. What he did at Tottenham was remarkable, mainly because doing anything at Tottenham is remarkable. But this constant drip feed of "we're nearly there" optimism is dangerous. It sets expectations that reality can't cash. You're hosting a World Cup. Your fans think you're going to compete. And right now, on current form, you're getting done by Portugal's second string without laying a glove on them.

Here's what "not far away" actually means in football. It means far away. It means you know you're far away but you can't say it out loud because you'll get the sack. It's the managerial equivalent of "I'm fine" when someone asks how you are and you've just reversed into a bollard.

The U.S. have got talent. I'll give them that. But talent without results is just potential, and potential is a word that follows you around like a bad smell until someone finally asks why you've never actually won anything.

Small details. Honestly. I've heard it all now. I'm going to make another cup of tea and pretend I never read that quote. Not far away. They were two nil away. That's exactly how far away they were.