There is hope, and then there is expectation. For Team USA, the latter was most definitely the case as it embarked on a quest to claim the gold at the FIBA World Cup in China over the last fortnight. No matter that its talent pool dwindled in the last year; 31 of the 35 players it originally named to be part of the selection process dropped out for one reason or another. And forget that two of those who actually made the squad wound up missing games due to injury. The bottom line remained: It still had the deepest, most skilled, and most athletic roster in the tournament. There would be heady challenges en route, but, in the end, it saw itself retaining the crown.

As things turned out, the US wasn’t simply dethroned. It wound up a poor seventh following successive losses to France and Serbia. And there were no extenuating circumstances leading to the setbacks. No referees with bum whistles to point the finger at. No poor playing conditions to blunt advantages. No wanting accommodations to disrupt preparations and biorhythms. On the court, where anything mattered and everything needed to be settled, it was just outshot, and, yes, overmatched. For all its individual brilliance, it proved unable to keep pace against collectively superior competition.

In retrospect, the US’ sputtering finish in China shouldn’t have come as a shock. However disappointing its performance may have been, nothing could have prepped it to exceed itself. In the face of opposition that boasted of continuity, its pick-and-scramble method of coalescing for a singular purpose no longer works. And the signs have been there for a while now. Even as it posted a pristine slate in the 2016 Rio Olympics, for instance, it suffered from scares against familiar foes. Serbia, France, Spain, and Australia already gave it fits then, when it had an All-Star lineup and was thus devoid of an excuse.

Which, in a nutshell, is why USA Basketball managing director Jerry Colangelo’s pronouncement that he will remember those who shunned playing for the red, white, and blue moving forward more a show of anger than a reflection of reality. At the Tokyo Olympics next year, the US will need all the big names to show up. The good news is that the prospect of being part of another Redeem Team should appeal to the stars’ egos and spur them to action. The bad news is that the level of competition in the international scene has progressed to a point where getting together on the fly will no longer be enough to overcome it.

Unfortunately, knowing the answer to the problem is merely the first in a long series of steps the US needs to take in order to turn its fortunes around. For wholly understandable reasons, its hoops heroes see playing for flag and country as less than paramount. With much of their time already spent shuffling between demands of the National Basketball Association and of their families, they are compelled to consider the costs of devoting what is otherwise left of their free time to the cause. And, really, theirs will be a thankless cause: They’ll be doing no more than what is anticipated if they win, and subjecting themselves to derision if they lose.

How the US will pick up the pieces from here on is anybody’s guess. It’s fair to contend that, fresh off its failed World Cup stand, it will be at its best in the Summer Games next year. Nonetheless, all and sundry would do well to begin adjusting their prognoses for international completion. There is hope, and then there is expectation. For the longtime king, the former is now a much, much more suitable sentiment.

Anthony L. Cuaycong has been writing Courtside since BusinessWorld introduced a Sports section in 1994. He is a consultant on strategic planning, operations and Human Resources management, corporate communications, and business development.