The sea of black outside the airplane window — save for the flickering light of a distant, small town — is comforting in its tranquility. The murmurs of a Canadian team beat down by an earlier training session in Florida heat give the plane’s slow descent an equally tranquil soundtrack.
That is until the plane takes a turn. Not one that feels like part of the program, either.
The team’s staff shoot awkward glances back and forth. The lights of the town disappear. Prepare as diligently as possible, but every single member of the team is still entering the unknown.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the flight captain says in a tone that doesn’t scream relaxing weekend getaway. “There was a drone reported in our flight path. So we have to take a different path into Suriname. Apologies for the delay.”
A chorus of groans and laughter breaks out.
The antiquated notion of who Canada’s men’s national team is still lingers over them. Even though they are 35th in FIFA’s world ranking (their second-highest ever after an impressive Copa America semifinal appearance), it is still too easy to associate Canada with past failures: consistently missing out on qualification for World Cups because Canada Soccer could not find talent and capitalize on the sport’s rising popularity. In 2022, they crashed out of the World Cup despite so much promise.
And, of course, there is the nagging scandal involving possible drone usage and cheating. An independent report released the day before this flight suggested former Canada coach John Herdman could have played a role in the use of drones.
The flight to Suriname lands safely, but staff still shake their head in disbelief at the end of their flight as they head through customs.
Jesse Marsch and his Canada squad arrive in Suriname (Canada Soccer)
Now, as a successful 2024 comes to a close, they are a team caught between two stages of their climb. They are still playing games reminiscent of their past, which require arduous trips to sometimes hostile surroundings in unfamiliar CONCACAF countries. And then there are games against the world’s top teams, such as the ones they played earlier in the summer. These are the sides they want to be compared to more consistently.
In this international window, Canada travelled further south than any of their CONCACAF peers, to play Suriname, ranked 136th in the world by FIFA. Canada’s return flight presents roughly the same flying time as Frankfurt, Germany, to Islamabad, Pakistan.
To document Canada’s climb, The Athletic was granted access that was never previously allowed: on planes, buses, in meetings, and pitchside. This is the story of their journey south to a place no member of the national team has ever been before.
“Cyle, what time are we going?”
Canada’s men’s national team’s all-time leading goalscorer, Cyle Larin, looks up from his plate of food to acknowledge head coach Jesse Marsch’s question with a sly grin. Despite their recent success, it’s worth remembering Marsch’s tenure as Canada boss is still only six months old. Canada finished a training session less than an hour earlier and most have only just sat down for lunch. They are scheduled to board a bus to take them to the Fort Lauderdale airport in three minutes.
Larin, part of Canada’s leadership group, asks Marsch for five minutes’ grace.
“OK,” Marsch says, shooting a smile back at his centre-forward before looking at his watch. “You’ve got eight minutes… seven now.”
During this international window, Canada are without their captain and superstar, Alphonso Davies. The Bayern Munich left-back is out with fatigue.
“It was a straight conversation,” Marsch said of the dialogue between him and Davies. “Right now, the demand on world footballers is too much. They don’t have any downtime.”
Marsch said he, Davies and Canada’s leadership group came away from the setback with a focus on “how we have to challenge each other at a high level”.
“They are all understanding, but they also understand that we need to stick together,” Marsch said.
This will be Canada’s first international without Davies since he was named captain in June. He is their leader. Travelling to Suriname will be an opportunity for others to stake their claim within the group’s evolving culture.
Larin is hardly the most outgoing figure, but the experienced forward knows how to make his mark behind closed doors. He has been part of a long list of past national team failures and wants the culture to change. Canada’s fines system for being late was devised by the leadership group, and Larin in particular; there is a collection of gift cards for the equipment staff. Players who are late must pay into the fine fund, which allows one member of the equipment staff to grab a gift card of their choice.
As 12:50pm hits, no one wants the dishonor of being the last on the bus. A crowd of players sprints downstairs out of the Inter Miami stadium, happily pushing each other over to board a waiting bus.
The last player to walk out of the meal room is a young one. With a sandwich for the flight in hand, he shakes his head.
Canada board their flight to Suriname (Canada Soccer)
If that player is briefly the focal point of conversation on the players’ bus, there is only one driver of conversation inside a smaller coaches’ van: the 51-year-old Wisconsin-born Marsch would run away with the title of most gregarious member of Canada’s men’s national team — and it’s not even close.
In Marsch’s close company, chatter is constant. Be ready to share specific anecdotes from places around the world you’ve visited, and be equally ready to hear his. Be prepared to drop movie quotes from Top Gun — the original, of course — just as quickly as thoughts on world football. For nearly every hour of the day, anyone from the van driver to his third-choice center-back will hear his midwestern charm and his throaty laugh.
Marsch reflects briefly on his childhood. He didn’t have many heroes as he came up as a player and a coach. Diego Maradona was one, naturally. Another, out of left field, was Rudi Voller. He had a recent chance meeting with Voller through an old colleague, and he lets his coaching staff hear about it.
“That’s me and Rudi,” he proclaims proudly to coaches, showing off a photo of him with his thumb raised high beside the former Germany head coach. For a brief moment, he is not a general, but a lowly sergeant, happy to remember his brush with fame.
Around Marsch, it’s hard for players and staff not to feel that international soccer is a gift, and the experience is something they should strive for. And after years of falling short, Marsch’s ambition and (mostly) positivity is a welcome change within the men’s national team.
“So, what can you tell us about Suriname?”
The number of countries Marsch has spent time in, owing both to a career in a global sport and the years he took off from work to take his family travelling the world, is well over 80. But Suriname is a first. And so he peppers the driver of a van taking the coaching staff on the bumpy one-hour trip from Paramaribo’s airport to the team hotel with questions.
What are the national dishes of Suriname? What is the country’s relationship with nearby Venezuela like? Who is the leader of the country?
Marsch’s relentless mix of curiosity and conviviality is potent.
Suriname is a developing country in South America that competes in the North and Central American region (CONCACAF) and speaks mostly Dutch, a European language. The former Netherlands colony is a melting pot of a country; Hindu mandirs dot the roadside as much as large Chinese trading companies.
Towering palm trees provide shade from the sun. They are a reminder that Suriname is the most forested country on the planet. The humidity of the rainforest is an obstacle the Canadian players, many of whom have finished their North American seasons in chilly temperatures, will face.
“The humidity drains you quicker than usual. In games like this, you have to be smart,” says midfielder Jonathan Osorio.
The following morning, the humidity has already left the windows at the team’s hotel streaming with condensation. Alistair Johnston and Jacob Shaffelburg are often side by side in the Canadian camp. They arrive together ahead of schedule for the team’s breakfast a little over 36 hours before kickoff. They peer curiously over what’s available and provide early scouting reports to teammates who arrive afterwards.
Johnston’s natural leadership is a constant around the team. He is their pace car: first onto the training pitch, first into team meetings and meals and first into hard-nosed tackles.
In a little over three years, the “aw shucks” Johnston has gone from being a virtual unknown Nashville SC defender to leading the crouched huddle as Celtic captain in the Scottish Premiership.
“I was most nervous about (the huddle),” Johnston said of leading it for the first time. “(Teammates) know I’m a big talker. I didn’t want to be the one captain who had one loss.”
His approach was to lean over, stare his teammates in the eye and shout to drown out raucous fans at Fir Park in Motherwell: “OK lads, let’s just get this over the line.”
“An out-of-body experience,” Johnston says.
Players spend their mornings seeking physical treatment and enjoying downtime before that afternoon’s training session. But for the coaching staff, the morning is anything but relaxed. Meetings to prepare for that afternoon’s training session and the game the following day reflect who Marsch is: equal parts demanding and open-minded. He polls his coaching staff to weigh the risks and rewards of players on the bubble of the next day’s starting lineup. Marsch stops a training video to point out how a player went heavy into a challenge to win a 50-50 ball.
“I told him that was the best play I’ve ever seen from him,” Marsch says proudly.
Marsch stresses the need for verticality and intensity. He calls out players who drifted in their movements on video. Meanwhile, the coaching staff grapple with unreliable cords between their laptops and TV screens cutting out every few seconds. As Marsch breaks down his aims, he simultaneously explains to new assistant coach Jason Bent why Canada is trying to move the way they are. As part of Marsch’s hire, there will be different “Canadian Coaching Community Representatives” joining the staff for each window.
The former Canada international and longtime Toronto FC and Los Angeles Galaxy coach is this window’s representative. He chimes in when the group discuss a set pick-and-roll play off a throw-in they have previously brought up with players. They share how they tried to make the analogy between the pick-and-roll they want to see and the pick-and-roll NBA ’90s legends Karl Malone and John Stockton would run. They quickly realize they might have dated themselves.
“Wait, do they know who Malone and Stockton even are?” they say in unison.
As they continue to review videos both of their own team and the ones they’re about to face, their aim crystallizes. To beat Suriname and to continue their ascent, Canadian players must be asked not just to do one thing repeatedly in the game, but consider two to three things with every movement: move to the right position off the ball and press. Don’t just sprint once, but hit top speeds repeatedly during the game.
The vision of how Marsch and his group can challenge some of the best athletes in the country has taken shape. But before they exit, a dragonfly that would devour any dragonfly in Canada in one bite flies into the room, audibly bouncing off the whiteboard.
“We’re in the Amazon, baby!” Marsch exclaims.
When the Canadian team arrive at the 3,500-capacity Dr. Ir. Franklin Essed Stadion for that afternoon’s training session, they make a beeline from the mini-bus to the dressing room, barely stopping for a second to take in their surroundings. If they had, they would have seen a stadium pitch that feels like a different planet from the towering Ahmad bin Ali Stadium, the venue for their opening World Cup game in Qatar less than two years earlier.
The sun radiates off the unforgiving turf. Players collectively kick a dead beetle the size of an adult thumb off the field as they warm up.
There are stands only on the east and west end, with a scoreboard one staffer compares — earnestly — to a minor league baseball scoreboard. Instructions from coaches are interrupted by low-flying planes overhead.
But as quickly as players look to the sky, they turn away: the afternoon sun is fierce. Johnston asks for the highest factor possible from a rotation of sunscreens. A Marsch training session begins quickly.
“Don’t be sloppy,” he shouts at players.
By the end of the session, Canada have adapted to the heat and put in an effort Marsch is proud of.
Tajon Buchanan is among those who showed especially well. The winger was arguably Canada’s best — and certainly their most dynamic — player at the 2022 World Cup. Since then, he has moved to one of Europe’s biggest clubs: Inter of Italy’s Serie A. But a horrific injury — he fractured his tibia with Canada during a training session at Copa America — forced him off the pitch for five months
“All you think is, ‘Why me?’,” Buchanan reflects on that freak injury. He is one of the more independent and steely members of the team. No one expected him to be here in Suriname.
“Everyone thought I wouldn’t be back until 2025,” he says.
His return ahead of schedule is a product of rare determination and quality not always seen in Canadian male players of the past. Buchanan is a lone wolf. But as he prepares to return to the pitch, he’s fine with that. On this day, his directness in training makes him stand out.
“Throughout my career, I’ve always been super independent,” Buchanan says. “If I put my mind to something, I can work towards it.”
As Buchanan exits the training pitch, he leaves behind a group of French-speaking players who represent the light-heartedness within the squad. The chatter and smiles between Moise Bombito, Jonathan David, Ismael Kone and Mathieu Choiniere often lift the spirit of the team. When Bombito loses a training warm-up game, players cheerfully gather around him to flick the back of his neck as punishment.
Every team has a group of players who provide the vibes. Any group of children playing the sport for the sheer love of it would find a kinship with this group. Their mood, paired with a constant desire to play as long and as loudly before and after training sessions, almost makes you forget this talented group is likely worth over $100million (£79m) in transfer fees.
Johnston begins to head to waiting buses. He shouts for all of Paramaribo to hear: the bus is leaving at 5:45pm.
Assistant coaches have to quite literally take the final ball on the pitch away from Kone and Bombito so they can board before the bus heads into a sea of Paramaribo traffic.
At the team hotel after training, the friendship within this Canadian squad is revealed. Players bolt to the pool for a game of Marco Polo. Once again, Bombito is literally in the middle of the action. But he can catch teammates even with his eyes closed, and with laughter loud.
At dinner, any perceived sense of hierarchy disappears. Players sit at completely different tables from where they were for earlier meals. Those who compete against each other in MLS and Ligue 1 mingle comfortably. The effects of Herdman instilling a culture of brotherhood — a word that was used more than any during his five-year tenure — are evident. Laughter often picks up amongst teammates who would seemingly have no connection otherwise.
Players move and hover over tables with iPads showing a game with opponents they want to be playing: a World Cup qualifier between Venezuela and Brazil. The memories of their Copa America quarterfinal win over Venezuela — their defining performance just months earlier — come flooding back.
As dinner concludes, the clang of cutlery on plates gives way to a growing chorus of stomping feet in unison beneath tables. Players shoot grins around the room, knowing full well what’s coming.
The rules for newcomers with the national team are simple — and not unlike what you might find in national team camps taking place around the world.
The Canada team that lined up to play Suriname (Canada Soccer)
Initiation into the Canadian men’s national team means standing on a chair in front of the team, grabbing a water bottle to mimic a microphone and baring your soul and your voice by singing a song of your choosing. For new coach Bent — aka DJ Scoops, as he’s called by the team — that’s easy. Black hood flipped up, he smoothly knocks his rendition of Mobb Deep’s Shook Ones, Pt. II out of the park.
Canada Soccer CEO Kevin Blue is on his first CONCACAF away trip outside of the United States with the men’s team. He knows the rules and has a confident take on You’ve Lost that Lovin’ Feelin’ by The Righteous Brothers — made famous by Top Gun. There are moments when Blue even bears a resemblance to Tom Cruise’s Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell. By the end, Blue doesn’t get many red, balled-up napkins thrown at him. (It might be a testament to his confidence with a water bottle as a microphone, or it might be out of respect for his efforts to take this program to new heights.)
Blue has promised more transparency in the organization. By not being afraid to sing in front of the men’s national team, he is trying to provide just that to players.
Afterwards, half of those players step over any napkins to make their way into an adjoining room. It is time for a game that has developed into a tradition that does deviate from the norm within the men’s national team: the psychological card game, Mafia.
Canada ended up spending longer hours than anticipated together during Copa America in hotels. The collection of new faces meant there were layers of divergent personalities to unpack.
Mafia is a game that puts players into different roles — the Mafia, the Sheriffs, the Doctors and the civilians — to try to eliminate other players. A narrator tells players to close their eyes at points throughout the game so they can make Survivor-style decisions about who should be eliminated.
Kyle Hiebert first introduced the game. At first, only five players would gather in meeting rooms across the United States. Liam Millar became the narrator.
“I’m not great at playing, so I’d rather just talk about it,” Millar says. “It was quite difficult because we always had to close our eyes, so we said, ‘I think the whole team would enjoy doing this.”
They have.
“You can see with some young players, they’re a little bit shy to speak their opinion. But as you keep playing, they become more vocal through playing Mafia,” Millar said.
The game became so popular that a separate group chat was created just to let players know when and where games would take place. The entire team noticed them becoming more talkative the more they played.
“That’s the best part: you see guys’ different personalities come out,” Joel Waterman says. “I try to keep my voice the same throughout the game. Because if you’re acting as Mafia one game and your voice changes, guys are going to know.”
Players are forced to make judgements about a player’s character without knowing their specific roles in the game, not unlike a game of poker.
“There are lies, deceit, trust issues,” Waterman says with a smile.
“I might throw one person under the bus to earn trust from everyone else,” Dayne St. Clair says. “I try to play differently, because people said, ‘Oh, you normally smile when you play Mafia’.”
Richie Laryea — known for his cunning on the pitch — uses those same skills to be one of the strongest Mafia players off the pitch. David, as one of the quieter players on the team, uses that unpredictability to his advantage.
“Mafia is a game that can go with you or against you. Sometimes people want to eliminate me just because it’s better to get me out. It’s hard to read me, so it’s hard to trust me and get me out of the game, even if I’m just a civilian,” David says.
“It gets pretty serious. We love to compete, we all want to win,” Waterman adds, nodding his head.
One newcomer to the game is Junior Hoilett.
The 34-year-old suffered a hamstring injury at the start of Copa America preparation that kept him out of the tournament. The injury compounded Hoilett’s lessening role in the team through the end of 2023.
When the opportunity arises to spend even more time around a group he considers close friends, Hoilett does not hesitate. He skips out on a physical treatment session to play the game.
“I’ve got a good poker face,” Hoilett says. “Everyone is underestimating me.”
Hoilett gets the last laugh, being one of the remaining survivors and winning the game. After a lengthy layoff from the national team, there is more harmony in his life and within the team itself. There is a feeling of mutual admiration and friendship among players that good teams need. It’s a part of the equation Canada has mastered.
“When everybody gets involved,” Hoilett says of being together with his Canadian teammates playing Mafia, “it becomes a family.”
Johnston is making his 50th appearance for Canada. And so with loud reggae blaring from speakers directly beside the field, Marsch has him make the pre-game speech to the group.
“This is going to be a fight,” Johnston tells his teammates. “We have to make sure we land the first punch.”
Everything during the game is indeed a fight against the elements.
The music draws quizzical looks from players during warmups. The smell of cigarette smoke from fans standing behind green bars just 20 feet away drifts onto the field. Players’ feet quickly begin to ache as they pound the taxing turf. The referee makes questionable call after questionable call, including penalizing Waterman with a yellow card for inadvertently bumping into a Surinamese player. Suriname sits back and swarms Canadian attackers when they get close to goal.
Canada has failed to score consistently under Marsch: just seven goals in his 11 matches in charge before the Suriname game.
Tani Oluwaseyi is sprung for a chance close to goal in the 33rd minute. His low shot bounces off both posts, bringing the crowd off their feet and also bringing a brief pause to the band playing in the stands. Once again, Canada struggles to finish chances. The likelihood of a 0-0 draw — typical for CONCACAF matches of this kind — rises with every passing minute.
Canada hardly plays their most inspired soccer. They press well but are hardly effective with set pieces. Marsch goes to his bench for a spark.
Jesse Marsch talks tactics on the sidelines (Canada Soccer)
His most crucial substitutions are players itching for a return: Hoilett, the veteran on the squad, and Buchanan, making his first appearance for club or country since June. Buchanan looks like he had been shot out of a cannon.
Finally, with under nine minutes remaining in the match, Canada lands a punch. Hoilett uses his presence to expose a weary Suriname back line, dart towards goal and finish off an exquisite David pass.
“Watching this squad and how well they performed at Copa America inspired me to work endlessly to get back. This is a special team,” Hoilett says.
The 1-0 win is ugly, sure. Postgame, there is a feeling shared among the group: they have the capacity to go into unfamiliar surroundings, rely on each other and fly home with the desired result.
“It was actually one of the easier CONCACAF games we’ve had,” Hoilett says.
But that’s also the point: they will need to start putting in better performances to match their results. That’s what it will take to match the best teams in the world, landing those punches earlier and more often.
And so the victory is also a reminder of how long Canada’s road to their first trophy in a generation is.
As the team take their seats for dinner, Marsch stands in the centre of the group. There were positives, he tells them, singling out specific players for their performances.
But there were negatives, too. Those are the parts not just of their game, but the culture they are trying to create, that must improve: with more than a few curse words littered in, Marsch calls for more internal discipline amongst players. More accountability for errors. More of a focus for veteran players and staff to educate young players on how to properly treat national-team duties.
“OK,” Marsch says, clapping his hands together in a quiet room reflecting on how much more they’ll need to do to reach their goals. “Good game.”
After their 1-0 away win, Canada will face Suriname on home soil on Tuesday (Canada Soccer)
The path out of Paramaribo is long and winding. Coaches fight back feelings of motion sickness, with the driver’s approach to single-lane roads unforgiving.
To distract themselves, they pull out their lists of countries the game has afforded them a chance to visit. They spell out Suriname on their phones, adding another one.
“You’ll notice my list has flags beside it… and yours does not,” Marsch says in a playful jab at his staff.
Just before Canada board the flight home, members of the team’s leadership group ask for a meeting with Marsch. Most wear far sterner looks than you would think considering it’s an off-day in tropical heat. Players want the next level of their ascent just as much as anyone else.
Even with a win, the lasting impression in the Canada team is that they are on a march towards that trophy — and nothing should be easy for them.
The odds of most of this Canadian team returning to Suriname are low. If that means more games against the world’s best, few would likely complain. Canadian teams of the past might have just been happy to get out of a trip south of their country unscathed. Their trip to Suriname is a reminder of how much has changed for this team in 2024, and how much more has to change in the future.
One by one, players step out of the terminal towards their flight to Toronto. They look up towards the sky, unable to shield themselves from the blistering sun.
(Top photos: Canada Soccer; design: Eamonn Dalton)