The U.S. women have just won their third world championship fulfilling their self-described boast as “one of the best teams ever”. This is a huge accomplishment and something to brag about to your friends around the world. They will say it’s not the real World Cup, and they’re basically correct. (They’re correct the same way that you can say eating chocolate covered raisins isn’t candy because it’s dried grapes. It’s true, but wrong. I think the broken English phrase, “Same, same, but different” is slightly more fitting.) Although it does require the qualifier “Women’s” World Cup, the excitement and national pride exists just as passionately in this tournament. Carli Lloyd’s midfield shocker in the final, Abby Wambach’s flying kick against Nigeria or Kelley O’Hara’s game sealing goal against the talented German squad let us know that these ladies are magic. And yes, now that you asked, they are attractive. Their appeal comes from both thrilling athleticism and robust beauty.
There are haters. My dad told me a direct quote from one of his friends as, “If you’ve got time to watch women’s soccer, you’ve got too much time on your hands.” Well, if being the best team in the world isn’t reason enough to watch, then maybe you just don’t like soccer. (Either way, bugger off ya wankah.) The reason women’s soccer is as good as men’s is because it’s a finesse sport with just a hint of chaos. There is plenty of physicality, so these girls are tough, but the difference between a male or female cross into a header is negligible. Though I’m no connoisseur of fútbol, I think that’s a fair comparison. The American men’s team is making changes and looking more competitive but even their coach acknowledges they are far from winning a tournament. The American women are the best side in history! 3 of 4 Olympic titles and 3 of 7 World Cup titles have been won by USA. They dominate, and I’m happy to call myself a fan.
In 1999, I was living at the Jersey Shore, partying and preparing my stomach for the upcoming four years of outrageous university life. Those games were on in the background of many blurred memories, including the memorable Brandi Chastain Cup winning sports bra incident. In 2011, I was unemployed and watched every minute of every game of that tournament. I shaved my hair into a glorious mullet in an inexplicable gesture of solidarity and support for our girls. They came up short to the tsunami-ravaged nation of Japan who probably needed that win for the country’s collective sanity. But this year, this team, looked really different in the knockout stage. They were cool but fiery in attack, shrewd and swaggering in defense, a formidable foe for any team. Carli Lloyd played out of her head in the final three games scoring five goals and Hope Solo and the back line were able to avert most challenges.
In the years to come, U.S. soccer will continue to improve until both the men and women are perennial challengers for the Cup. One day, in my lifetime, the American men’s team will crush the machismo of South America, stifle the diving masses of Europe and sprint past the speed of Africa to their first World Cup title, thus ruining the sport for the world. Until then, the American girls are running it again. Let’s celebrate their accomplishment and be happy in the victory.
**(Also, let’s hope the U.S. Justice Department’s investigation ruts out the corruption in FIFA, so we can continue to enjoy these amazing tournaments without worry of systemic bureaucratic corruption.)