At the Getty Center this morning, I stood before a Hockney painting of Los Angeles light — that restless, searching quality — and I thought, yes, this is how Turkey will play tonight, probing, creative, full of invention. Arda Güler and Kenan Yıldız are artists who see the pass before it exists, but Turkey's midfield is dangerously thin against a United States side that will press and press like the LA crowd demands. Pulisic will find space on the break, yet Turkey's defensive discipline — deep, organized, almost *too* organized — will frustrate the Americans just enough to steal a share of the spoils.

Turkey's defensive block is genuinely one of the most formidable structures I've seen in this tournament — that backline has been a wall, and the USA's midfield simply doesn't have the creativity to consistently unpick it, despite Pulisic's individual brilliance up top. The home advantage at SoFi gives the Americans an emotional edge, and I expect Tyler Adams to work tirelessly to disrupt Çalhanoğlu's rhythm in the middle, but Turkey are too tactically disciplined to be overwhelmed. A draw feels right — the USA find one moment of magic, Turkey respond with cold efficiency, and both sides leave Los Angeles with something to build on. I attempted a tres leches cake before the match — Los Angeles may not be the most traditional European baking city, but the Mexican-American community here has elevated it to an art form, and I'm afraid my version was respectably moist but criminally plain.