No, he is no longer a Metro; but then again, who truly is? So as we enter this weekend void of meaningful Metro Red drama (for the upcoming friendly with Bayern Munich is anything but) let us ponder the situation of Michael Bradley, who today got his first cap for the U.S. national team, two months before his 19th birthday. And what an amazing year it has been.

Just a year ago, the vultures were circling Michael, both on the message boards and among local writers, calling for his head and calling out his father and Metro coach Bob for nepotism, for playing his son week in and week out. They saw the trade of Ricardo Clark, conveniently forgetting that he was traded for an allocation necessary to sign Youri Djorkaeff. They saw the benching of Gilberto Flores, forgetting that the defensive midfield job was his to lose coming into the preseason. They saw the name on the back of Michael's shirt. And oh, was nepotism an easy card to play!

Did Michael struggle early on? Truthfully, it took him some time to adjust to the league at such a tender age, but he did turn in some good performances early and then picked it up even more as the season went forward. No, he was not a true defensive midfielder (and was thrust into the role opened by Gilberto's ineptitude), but he was solid in the position, winning tackles, distributing the ball with ease (perhaps his greatest improvement as the season went along), showing poise, leadership, and understanding for the game so uncommon at his age. And who can forget his game-winner in the season finale at Chivas USA? Of course, that came two weeks after his father was fired and the naysayers who yelled nepotism were amazed that Mo Johnston, no relation to Michael, somehow kept him in the lineup.

And then, the offseason came. Heerenveen, with whom Michael was on trial early in 2005, came calling, and Metro answered. Alexi Lalas, who was trying to rid the team of as much Bradley residue as possible, was happy to oblidge. So Michael became the youngest MLS player in history to be sold. But when MLS players are sold by the league, their former team gets an allocation to compensate for the loss. Metro got nothing. Somehow, Lalas let that pass.

So move forward to Holland and Heerenveen, where Michael took some time playing with the reserves and sitting on the bench, before getting a start in the regular-season finale. Meaningless game, the naysayers cry. But not so; after that, with results needed to get into the UEFA Cup, Bradley starts every game, drawing rave revues from the staff and supporters as his club advances through the playoff system. In the process, he becomes if not the youngest, then one of the youngest U.S. players to earn a starting spot with a team in one of major European leagues.

And then the call from Bruce Arena comes to practice with the U.S. team as it prepares for the World Cup, and again the naysayers scream that Michael is getting preferential treatment because of Bruce's connections with his father (although it is interesting to note that Arena was anything but complimentary of Bob when he was fired last year). But slowly, positive reviews from neutral parties start creeping in; it looks like Michael, 18 years and all, is holding his own with the U.S. men. And now, the one player on the roster with no chance to play in Germany, he gets his first cap, getting onto the field in the waning minutes of the win against Venezuela.

One cap, the naysayers will say. Even Billy Walsh got one cap! It's funny, it really is. The naysayers can say whatever they want, and nothing is stopping them from making fools of themselves once again. Somehow, Michael doesn't seem to care. Somehow, he just keeps on proving the naysayers wrong. And no, he is no longer a Metro. And no, we don't know what the future will bring. But it is nice, for once, to revel in the success of one who was once ours, isn't it?