From the arsenal of fancy Italian sports cars to an ever-changing haircut to his miraculous ability to "bend" free-kicks, David Beckham epitomizes what it truly means to be an international sports celebrity. And at the end of a stunning career in the Euro leagues, he has made the decision to cross the pond and play Major League Soccer for the Los Angeles Galaxy. But does "Becks" have what it takes to lift football (aka "soccer") in the United States to the international level? Given the sport's dismal track record Stateside, his move begs the question of whether anyone can make soccer an American sport.

On January 11th, it was confirmed that Beckham had signed a 5-year deal for $10 million per year in direct salary. Yet with endorsements and profit-sharing, he is expected to make upwards of a blistering $250 million during his stint with the Galaxy. Also with the Los Angeles squad is Landon Donovan, previously the highest paid pre-Beckham MLS footballer at just under $1 million per year.

Although profits will be made, they will be short-lived, reflecting the star rather than his sport.

Even Donovan is an exception; the average yearly MLS salary hovers around $100,000. Seventy-six of the 322 players signed to the MLS in 2006 earned less than $20,000 a year. At $28,000, the senior roster minimum is not much of an improvement, while players signed to standard developmental contracts make $11,700, $16,500 or even hourly rates previously as low as $5.635.

At those pay grades, bringing the former England national captain to the U.S. would seem an impossible feat. Low and behold, the MLS created a unique new provision for the 2007 season, the "Designated Player Rule," and for obvious reasons, it has been nicknamed the "Beckham Rule." Suspected of being fashioned in the hopes of enticing the Brit, the rule now allows for each MLS franchise to sign one player beyond the $2-million-per-team salary cap.

For the sake of comparison, the G14 group, which includes eighteen of Europe's top teams (two of which, Manchester United and Real Madrid, have owned Beckham), limits a club's salary ceiling to 70% of its yearly revenue. When pocketing upwards of several hundred million dollars a year, these franchises have a little more flexibility for attracting talent across borders.

Deflecting criticism, both Beckham and the Galaxy franchise are defending the deal as an opportunity to provide a newfound vigor for American soccer, enlarging the fan base and attracting previously lost talent.  However, attempts to spark American interest in soccer are not new.

Most notably, international football celebrities, such as Edson Arantes do Nascimento ("Pele"), were artificially imported to the North American Soccer League (NASL) during the 1970s. Spearheaded by the New York Cosmos, this notorious experiment rode an ephemeral high and suffered a disastrous collapse, resulting from alcohol, drugs, egos and spectators' lack of interest in the sport. Not only did the greatest players of all time depart in the most scandalous of ways, they caused a vacuum that resulted in the complete annihilation of the league. In 1984, the NASL closed shop.

Not for another nine years was the U.S. able to convince FIFA, the international governing body of association football, to grant acknowledgement of a professional soccer league, the MLS. This privilege was in exchange for U.S. Soccer's guarantee to play host to the 1994 FIFA World Cup tournament.

The simple fact remains that for whatever reason, Americans do not enjoy watching soccer. Unfortunately, it seems that the ability to move this mountain is beyond even the mystical powers of Becks.  Skepticism abounds as to whether an American men's capture of the FIFA World Cup is capable of inspiring the red, white and blue.

So when Beckham heads to the City of Angels next year, he will continue to remain a spectacle to the overwhelming majority of Americans. Traveling from city to city, "fans" of the opposing teams will show up merely to get a glimpse of the Brit rather than cheering for their own squad. Although profits will be made, they will be short-lived, reflecting the star rather than his sport. And David Beckham, just like his predecessors, will fail at luring Americans to "the beautiful game."

For those Yankees who genuinely enjoy the spirit of football, I can only hope for the best—that MLS recruits new American talent, generating serious competition while refraining from the transitioning into a luxurious retirement ground for dwindling international footballers.

Jonathan Bronitsky is a Researcher in Foreign and Defense Policy Studies at the American Enterprise Institute.

Image credit: "David Beckham" by Flickr user Brian Harrington Spier