Yes, I enjoy watching soccer — go ahead and shoot me. But now that both Team USA and the Netherlands have been eliminated from the World Cup and I have lost all interest in said tournament, it’s time for some cultural reflections instead.

As devoted fans of the beautiful game will know, my country of origin has somewhat of a famous past when it comes to soccer. Ajax Amsterdam won the European Champion Clubs’ Cup in 1971, ’72, and ’73, and this string of successes culminated in the Dutch national team making it to the World Cup finals of 1974 and 1978. (The 1980s and 90s saw great successes too, both on the club and national levels.)

This was the era of Johan Cruyff, the greatest Dutch player of all time. Cruyff’s fame was not confined to within the Dutch borders. In 1973, he was transferred to FC Barcelona for the eye-watering and record-breaking sum of $2 million, and he was key in bringing glory back to that club. After his retirement from the game he became Barcelona’s manager, winning 11 trophies during his 8-year reign there. Cruyff is revered there to this day, and his legacy lives on in his protégé Pep Guardiola, the legendary Barcelona player turned manager whose teams have consistently played the same Dutch style of soccer. In 1999, Cruyff was voted European Player of the Century in an election held by the International Federation of Football History & Statistics, and he came second behind Pelé in their World Player of the Century poll.

The foundation of the Dutch soccer successes in those days was a concept called “total football,” a system based on a 4-3-3 formation in which every outfield player was interchangeable and capable of playing any position. This enabled a fluid, shape-shifting collective that dominated through relentless pressing, intelligent movement, and sustained ball possession to suffocate and disorient the opposition.

Underpinning this system and its consequent successes was the classic Amsterdam brawn. Never known in other parts of the Netherlands for their modesty or humility, people from Amsterdam possessed an arrogance and confidence unseen anywhere else in the country — a quality both mocked and resented where I grew up. These boys with their blond hair and blue eyes felt ready to take on the entire world with their dominant approach to the game. And so they did.

I share this to juxtapose it against the Netherlands soccer team of today. Led over the past three years by former defensive star Ronald Koeman — who resigned the day after his team was eliminated in the round of 32 two weeks ago — the team seemed to be “Orange” in name only. Gone were the dominance, the pressing, and the confidence that wins matches and entertains spectators. Defensive tactics paired with counter-strikes were the name of the game, culminating in an extremely lackluster performance against Morocco, an objectively inferior squad that the Dutch should have handily beaten. And in this fact lies, perhaps, a deeper cultural truth.

If the Dutch were beholden to this irritatingly conservative approach, Team USA might be accused of having been somewhat naive. It fought each and every World Cup game with passion and a confidence — explicitly verbalized by most involved — that it really could win the tournament, only to be eliminated — indeed humiliated — in the round of 16 by a Belgian squad that was simply better in terms of technical skill, stamina, positioning, goal scoring, and more. The Americans were hit on the nose by reality, but their endearing optimism and high-energy games, with equally enthusiastic fans, is what has stuck.

In contrast, on the night of the ignominious Dutch elimination, Director of Football Nigel de Jong of the Dutch soccer association had this to say: “The objective was the semi-final and the ambition was to become world champion” — thereby expressing his disappointment with the outcome and, presumably, Koeman’s performance. Disregarding the flagrant self-contradiction within this statement, De Jong was essentially saying he would have been satisfied with a finish in the semi-finals.

Combined with the departure from total football, a concept so ingrained in Dutch culture it would be difficult for Americans to appreciate it, this fact makes for a radical shift from the 1970s.

What happened? Well, for one, the Netherlands and the Amsterdam of 1970 are long gone. Both have become a salad bowl of dozens of different cultures, and along the way the unique Amsterdam brawn was drowned out. This is not to say that the current players, many of whom are of foreign descent, are inferior to their predecessors, but rather that the culture underpinning the Dutch approach to soccer has been hollowed out. Optimism left the building. Cultural relativism — and indeed even guilt about its native culture — took its place.

At the same time, the game of soccer has globalized. When I grew up, countries like Croatia and Morocco, let alone the U.S., were not forces to be reckoned with. And it’s probably true, though I can’t prove it, that interest among Dutch boys in playing soccer at a high level has waned relative to the 1970s. Johan Cruyff famously learned to play on the streets of Amsterdam. Kids these days — yes, I’m old — prefer their PlayStations and smartphones. Dutch soccer fans are paying the wages of wealth and decadence.

The U.S. suffers from many of these same afflictions, needless to say. But the flair on display during this World Cup was nevertheless inspiring, reflected in the attacking play, the confidence off the pitch, and the enthusiasm of the fans. It was a great thing to watch.

Perhaps the difference is that expectations based on historical performance are radically different between the two countries: the Netherlands is still running on the fumes of past successes while the U.S. has never come close to winning anything and therefore had little rational basis for its optimism — but perhaps lacked a reality check for that same reason.

But the main reason for the difference between the two countries is that the U.S. has retained some of its innate optimism, born from a culture built by immigrants who risked life and limb to reach these shores. Early Americans self-selected to be adventurous, risk-taking, and forward-looking. This attitude has become part of our cultural DNA, and it was on full display during this World Cup.

By contrast, whatever adventure once drove the Dutch has long been relegated to the dustbin of its rich history. It’s sad but true.