n a bar full of Africans, my BlackBerry screen lit up Friday night with messages from appalled American friends oceans away. What a dirty, rotten, cheating play. Seconds from the end of a stalled 1-1 game, Uruguay's Luis Suarez threw up his hands to stop Ghana's guaranteed game-winner. No goal, a red card for Mr. Suarez, penalty for Ghana.
For the first time, an African team was about to reach the semifinals of the World Cup. Then it wasn't. An exhausted Asamoah Gyan's shot—improbably, unjustly—ricocheted off the crossbar. Mr. Suarez, who sulked off the field with feigned upset after the red, was caught on camera sneaking a peek at Ghana's miss, then joyfully bounding off into the locker room. Uruguay got the mental edge in the ensuing penalty shoot-out, and it went through in Ghana's place to face Holland here today.
A crime perpetrated in plain sight called for stiff drinks and shared bereavement. If a Ghanaian mob burned down the Uruguayan Embassy in Accra, who could blame them? Yet television scenes from Ghana showed a calm, proud nation swallow hard and applaud their Black Stars. Around me, in response to my indignation, came resignation. "That's soccer." "The rules were followed." (The rules stink—how about instituting a goal-tending rule, as in basketball?) "At least the referee spotted the foul," went one line of argument, "many times he would've missed it."
True. Especially at this World Cup, phantom calls stole several key goals. For a change the referee wasn't to blame for Ghana's tragedy. Still, what crazy sport lets a clear win turn, poof, into defeat? After the U.S. went down to Ghana in the previous round, Landon Donovan, the hero against Algeria, noted, "Soccer can be a cruel game." Add to that corrupt, infuriating and ugly—with scarcely any room for honor or fair play.
No wonder Americans have a hard time with soccer. Goals are so rare, yet the decisions of fickle and unaccountable men so easily sway the outcome. Name another sport that counts an act of utter deceit—Diego Maradona's "Hand of God" goal against England in 1986—as one of its greatest moments? (After Friday's match Mr. Suarez said, "Mine is the real 'Hand of God.'") Our professional athletes may be arrogant and overpaid, but football, baseball and basketball are models of evenhandedness and transparency compared to the world's most popular sport.
To boot, soccer is ruled with impunity by its governing body FIFA and powerful boss, a Swiss man named Sepp Blatter. Picture the United Nations (smaller, in fact, in terms of national membership and revenues than FIFA) overseen by a petty Third World tyrant. A T-shirt in South Africa rhymes FIFA with a common f-worded expletive. A newspaper cartoonist here depicts a "Blattersaurus"—a relic who refuses to bring his game into this century by introducing a helping "Hand of Technology" to make sure a ball over the line counts as a goal, for starters. The lack of such technology cost England dearly against Germany last week. Out of love for the sport, the world puts up with FIFA's oppressive ways.
The world's oldest democracy is wired differently, including on the soccer field. Knocked out in the round of 16, the U.S. team won over many new fans here for its clean play and can-do spirit and its coach, Bob Bradley, for his stoic reserve—all rare characteristics in the sport. Sadly, the U.S. lacked a star striker and a competent back four on defense to make it into the tournament's final week.
Perhaps it was not an accident that no nation, not even Ghana, suffered from the injustices of the game as did the Yanks. Coming back against Slovenia, the U.S. scored a remarkable winner minutes from the end. The Malian referee, Koman Coulibaly waved it off for a foul invisible to the naked eye. The draw forced the make-or-break match against Algeria, won by Mr. Donovan's last-minute goal, but not before another U.S. score was erased by a bad call. Spent mentally and physically, America came in flat against Ghana and fell 2-1.
Maybe Americans will find soccer too unfair, hidebound and exasperating for the game to take off at home. Or maybe not. Team USA's dramatic run, though prematurely ended, gave Americans a taste of the awful, exhilarating feeling that comes with bleeding for your national team at a World Cup. Traumatic soccer memories only fester, never fade.
Consolation is that the better side usually does win. Saturday night, at Cape Town's beautiful new Green Point stadium, a festive and civilized crowd saw a squeaky clean outcome courtesy of a nation that, per stereotype, plays by the rules.
Germany's counter to Argentina's penchant for dives and a divine handball here and there? With Diego Maradona now the coach and looking on haplessly, they dismantled the Argentines with Teutonic cruelty (4-0) and set up their semifinal date tomorrow with Spain. The Germans gave no opening to the whims of soccer fates.
But we can all still cry for Ghana.
Mr. Kaminski is a member of the Journal's editorial board.
