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IT'S WONDO TIME, BABY

Chris Wondolowski has been called up to the United States Men's National Team.

You already knew that, though, like how you knew about gravity and the earth being round and evolution. That statement just exists, in permanancy.

Everything that can be said about Wondo has already been said. He's the American Olivier Giroud, or Edinson Cavani before he caught fire this season, or Gonzalo Higuain in an international match of importance. We've all had it out about Wondo and been frustrated with him but he keeps coming back. He keeps scoring enough goals in the MLS to wriggle his way on to the USMNT, and if he doesn't do enough someone gets hurt and he's in. We will never be rid of Wondo.

The same way Christian Pulisic is a glimpse of what American soccer could become. Wondo is a reminder of what it has been. Wondo is scrappy. Wondo is maybe not as skilled as he could be. Wondo is those ugly denim uniforms. Wondo is the 2002 World Cup quarterfinals. Wondo is lumping the ball forward and hoping for headers.

Wondo is back. Wondo is here. Wondo will never leave. Long live Wondo.

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