by Alex Morgan
A week after that loss, we were still trying to get out of our funk when one of the worst things a team can go through happened. Neil just up and left us.
We were in the locker room at halftime during a game against Sacramento State, and no one was happy. We were down 1–0 against a team we were expected to beat, and despite taking more shots than our opponent, we just couldn’t get on the board. As we were staring at the whiteboard waiting for halftime instructions, Neil came in the back door and just stood there for a split second, looking as if he had no intention of moving to the front of the room.
“This isn’t working for me. I’m out,” he yelled. And without further explanation, he turned his back on us and left.
To say we were shocked would be an understatement. We were in utter disbelief, and we were crushed. I looked around the locker room and saw mouths wide open, and I felt tears of rage coming to my eyes. A few of my teammates burst into tears. I thought, How could he do this to us? Why is he leaving?
What made me so upset, in part, was that he didn’t offer any explanation. In my family, you talk things through and stick together. You don’t just leave. We were a team, and we’d just started to feel that Neil was part of our sisterhood. And now he was leaving us when we were at our lowest?
I was a team leader, and I felt I had to hold it together, especially for my younger teammates. We needed to win this game, so I disguised my fears and attempted to motivate my team. We had to move on. We still had another half to play against Sacramento State.
But we couldn’t get past our anger and grief. We lost 1–0 in a stinging, painful defeat. We were just too overcome with emotion to play our best soccer.
I went back to my room and logged on to Twitter. My fingers were flying as I typed:
You turned your back on us once. we can and will turn our backs on you for good.
You are not welcome back.
I’d always been so mature and so diplomatic, but what Neil had done was beyond the pale. I wanted to scream and cry, and I needed to let my emotions out. I wanted everyone to know how hurt I felt—and how devastated my whole team was.
We live in the social media age, when it’s really easy to post every single one of your thoughts online. It makes you feel better for a little bit because you get lots of immediate support from other people—thumbs-up and comments on Facebook or retweets on Twitter—but it may not make you feel better in the long run. Even if you later delete something online, it lives on. My tweet was later published in the school paper and talked about quite a lot on campus. People were surprised that I’d lost my cool, and their image of me changed. I regret posting it. I could have talked with my teammates or called my parents. I didn’t have to send my feelings out into cyberspace.
The day after I posted that tweet, after a restless night’s sleep, I woke up and went to Saturday-morning practice. Things weren’t normal, but we had a game on Sunday, and practice Saturday was vital.
Kelly Lindsey was there to greet us in the locker room. She’d joined our team as a volunteer assistant coach midway through the season—in fact, only two weeks before—but she was stepping in as our head coach. I was relieved. I liked Kelly, and I thought she could provide us with the leadership we needed.
We needed a pep talk, and she was ready to give it.
“I know yesterday was terrible,” she said. “But you’re a team. Your first few games were so strong, and that was because you played as a team. Just remember that teamwork is what’s going to carry you through this. I’m looking around and seeing some smiles out there, and that’s terrific. Your maturity through all of this is what’s going to carry you through.”
Our cocaptain, Brianna Bak, summed up our feelings pretty well when she talked to the school newspaper. “We’re the ones that play anyway. A coach is a coach; players are what make a team.” While she was more laid-back than I was (as if you couldn’t tell from my tweet), I saw the truth in what she said. We had to hang together—it was all we had.
The following day, just two days after Neil quit, was our last non-conference game, and we played our hearts out. All we had were one another in our game against Santa Clara, ranked #11, and we worked as a team the entire time. Regulation ended in a tie, but after two fifteen-minute overtimes, it remained a draw.
We were disappointed, but I knew we’d be back. We’d start winning games, and we’d do it together, as a team.
Be Careful on Social Media
I’m incredibly active on social media now, and I always try to put my best foot forward. When you’re going after your goals, the world needs to see that—and the world is watching you on social media. Even if you’re feeling terrible, try to post something positive, like an inspirational quote (if you feel you have to post anything at all). People will see that you’re trying to put something happy out into the world, and you’ll get support for that. Remaining positive will also help you keep your head clear as you set goals and work toward them.
CHAPTER 16
* * *
We got the shock of our lives two days after the Santa Clara game. We were walking onto the field, ready to practice, and who was standing there but Neil. My jaw dropped.
What is he doing here? And what can he possibly have to say?
He called the team together, and believe it or not, he was apologetic.
“I’m so sorry I put all of you in this position. I had some personal issues I had to deal with last week, but I’m recommitting myself right here and now to this team. I love being a Cal Bear, and I want to do everything in my power to make this team win. Last week I put myself above our ideal of program, team, individual, and I’m sorry for that. It was wrong, and I owe each and every one of you an explanation and apology.”
I was in disbelief. I’d been so upset at being abandoned so suddenly and under such mysterious circumstances. But now we had our coach back. Was I supposed to be happy? I just couldn’t be. I was so angry with him, and I knew it would take a long time to fully accept his apology. We’d had a good relationship, and he’d helped me grow so much as a player. But that was in the past. He lost our trust the moment he walked out, and I wasn’t ready to let my anger go. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. Nobody had ever given up on me.
But I knew I had to think beyond myself. I was considered a leader on the team. I wasn’t captain, but my commitment made people look to me for guidance.
I took a deep breath and cleared my mind, and I decided at that moment to do what Neil had suggested—put aside my own personal feelings for the good of the team. There was no way we could change the past, and Neil was here to stay. We had to stop thinking about our problems and move on.
And while I didn’t realize it at the time, the drama with Neil was a good life lesson. We were adults now, and we had to learn that sometimes people let you down and sometimes they surpass your expectations. You never know; it’s always a surprise. I’m not saying you shouldn’t trust people, but you should be aware that sometimes they won’t behave the way you expect. I think it’s important to remember this, no matter your age.
In this case, I didn’t have too much time to dwell, because the regular season began that very week. We had no choice but to move on with Neil as our coach. We had games to play, and we wanted to win them.
On Thursday morning, I took to Twitter, this time with a totally different tone than I’d had just days before.
Leaving for oregon. ready for the bears to kick some (butt)!
I had decided to think positive, and that had changed things for me. I was fired up and ready to start Pac-10 play. We were going to show the soccer world that we were united as a team, and we were going to win our first game against Oregon.
And we did.
Our 2–1 victory wasn’t just a relief; it was exhilarating in many ways. We had just gone through something incredibly emotionally draining, but we hadn’t let i
t defeat us. I’d also tied my college career high of nine goals in the season. At this rate, I was going to score at least sixteen that year, and that felt nothing short of amazing.
• • •
The rest of the season was up and down, but we held tight as a team. We had some amazing wins and some troubling losses, but I really felt like we’d tried our hardest. And finally, we’d found it in our hearts to forgive Neil. It had taken a few weeks. We’d even gone to Cal’s athletic director and said that we didn’t want to play with someone who’d given up on us.
“I understand your frustration, but he’s not going anywhere,” she said. “You have to deal with it.”
So finally, we did. We started to trust him again, and things got better. Over the course of the season, Neil put in the effort to gain back our respect, and we learned to trust him, 100 percent. Eventually, what had felt like a major moment began to feel like just another bump in the road.
At 10-8-1 overall and 4-5-0 in the Pac-10, Cal earned an at-large bid in the NCAA tournament, meaning we hadn’t won an automatic spot, but we’d been invited in by a panel of judges.
Our first game was against Auburn, and we won it fair and square in overtime. I scored the first goal; then Auburn came back to tie it up. We went into overtime, but Bears senior forward Lisa Kevorkian netted a beautiful shot at ninety-seven minutes, and the game was ours.
I was so happy for Lisa. Scoring a goal in overtime in the NCAA tournament was probably the biggest goal of her soccer career, and when she said her heart was “full to the point of bursting,” I could tell. She was our hero for the day.
We were set to play #1-seeded Florida State in the second round, and we knew it was going to be a tough match. Florida State was one of the strongest teams in the nation, and for the seniors on our team, it was going to be a repeat of their freshman year, when they’d played FSU in the second round of the NCAA tournament. While we held them off till the thirty-fourth minute of play, they ended up scoring three goals in the second half, and they won it, ousting us from the tournament. It was a tough game, and they’d simply been better than us.
But I’d been so proud of our season, and getting to play in every game was an honor. No injuries and no national team commitments meant that I was with my team from start to finish, and I couldn’t have been happier about that. My team was my family, and we’d been through so much that year that togetherness was everything to us.
Plus, there was always next year. . . .
Learn to Forgive
I’m very close with Neil and his family. Over the years he has helped me so much and been one of my biggest supporters. We talk and text all the time, I’m involved with the Cal team and community, and Neil was even recently a guest at my wedding! When you learn to forgive, accept that mistakes happen, and move forward, you can build an even stronger relationship, like the one I now have with Neil. People are human and make mistakes, and those errors can affect more people than intended, especially in team sports. But if you let them back in your life, your relationship can blossom in profound new ways, and they may even help you achieve your goals.
CHAPTER 17
* * *
I love Thanksgiving. I get to be with my family, eat great food, see old friends, and be thankful for all that life has given me. I’ve been so lucky, and I always reflect on that at Thanksgiving.
The phone rang Thanksgiving morning during my junior year, when I was still in my pajamas about to help Mom with the cooking. I didn’t recognize the number on my phone, and besides, who calls on Thanksgiving? But I picked it up anyway.
“Alex, this is Cheryl Bailey,” said a voice on the other end of the line. Cheryl was the general manager of the women’s national team. Hearing her voice on the phone made my spine tingle.
She was brief. “We’d like you to come train with us. I hope you’re healthy—you need to be prepared to play every day.”
“Yes! Thank you! I’ll be there!” I was practically breathless. “Thank you so much, Cheryl. I’m honored. I can’t wait.”
“Great, Alex,” she replied. “I’m looking forward to meeting you.”
When I hung up the phone, I had to contain my screams. This was it. This was the moment I’d been waiting for. Unless I really messed up at the camp, I’d soon be playing competition and friendly games with the national team, which might take me to the World Cup, the Olympics, and to a professional soccer career. I’d thought I’d probably get this call someday, but it had come much earlier than I’d expected. And on Thanksgiving morning, too!
I ran to tell my parents immediately, and the joy I could hear in their voices made my excitement level triple. I remembered all those days with Dad in the backyard, shooting goals. I remembered his patience and how he’d never put pressure on me, always letting me decide how seriously I wanted to pursue soccer. Mom had driven me to so many practices and so many games, and she’d never once complained. I was so thankful for them, and at that moment I felt like the luckiest girl in the world to have them as my parents. And to feel this kind of gratitude on Thanksgiving, too—it couldn’t have been more fitting.
The US national training camp was going to start in December, so I had to get ready quickly. The camp was at the Home Depot Center in Carson, California, which was where I’d watched Mia Hamm, Joy Fawcett, and Julie Foudy’s retirement game five years before. That game had been so personal to me—it was where I’d decided that I’d do everything in my power to become a professional soccer player—and going there felt like a homecoming to me. Plus, while I’d be staying in a hotel, I’d be close to my family, so I could see them every few days.
The team’s head coach was Pia Sundhage. Remember her? She’d been sitting in the stands the previous year, watching me play the U-20 World Cup final. She’d replaced Coach Greg Ryan, who’d received a lot of criticism after a miserable loss for the team in the 2007 World Cup. Pia was a legend in her native Sweden—one of their national team’s all-time best forwards—and she was very well liked in the United States. My idol Kristine Lilly had briefly played for her in Sweden and loved her so much that she said she wanted to play for her again.
Pia had a reputation as an easygoing and fun coach who also commanded respect. She was an authority figure, but a kind and sensible one. I liked that. Swedes have a reputation for being even-keeled and very professional, so it made sense to me that Pia would be a steady influence. But I realized I’d be standing in the company of giants with my other teammates, and that was intimidating. Forward Abby Wambach was one of the best players in the game, and Hope Solo was a goalkeeping legend. I was also going to be the youngest person there. Would they think I was a baby, or that I lacked the maturity to be there?
I was full of fear and had a million questions, but I couldn’t let that hold me back. I remembered what happened when I went to the U-20 training camp, and I vowed that I wouldn’t let nerves get the best of me. So I gathered my wits about me and got ready to go to training camp with the women’s national team.
Camp was going to be ten days long. And believe it or not, it was smack-dab in the middle of finals. Thankfully, my professors were very understanding, and they worked with my schedule as far as year-end papers and tests went. Looking back on it, I think it was a good situation that I had so much to do then. When I got back to the hotel after days of training, I had to study immediately, and that took my mind off all the mistakes I’d made on the field. It also helped that there were a few other college-age girls there going through the same thing, so I didn’t feel alone.
I’d been so nervous before going, but camp couldn’t have been more productive or more fulfilling. We had one practice a day and played two friendly games, and we ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner together as a team, which gave us time to reflect on how we’d played.
Camp was also incredibly intense, both physically and mentally. This was a whole different level of play. My teammates were j
ust better than anyone I’d played with before. And everything felt like it was on a bigger scale—it was as if my field of vision grew as I became more technical and tactical. Pia was so positive, too. Everyone felt optimistic and excited to be out there. And while she was unlike Neil in a lot of ways, they’re both European, so they brought a different style of play to the field.
Camp was only ten days, but I learned so much. When I completed my finals and went home to celebrate Christmas, I felt like I didn’t even need any gifts because I’d already gotten the best one of all—a spot on the US Women’s National Soccer Team.
Don’t Let Fear Hold You Back
I was so nervous before going to camp. I’m always a little fearful before big events, but this was a whole new level. You’ll probably be scared before a lot of the big tests you’ll undertake while striving to reach your goals, but you can’t let fear stand in your way. There’s a saying that goes, “feelings aren’t facts,” and this is true. Just because you’re scared doesn’t mean there is actually something to fear. So be bold and dive into the challenge. It’s okay to be nervous, but don’t let it hold you back—you can do it!
CHAPTER 18
* * *
After camp was over I quickly got word that another national team training camp was going to be held at the Home Depot Center at the end of January and beginning of February. Twenty-six players were called up, and the purpose was to let Pia get one more look at the team to decide which nineteen players would be selected to attend the Algarve Cup. The Algarve Cup is one of the oldest and most important soccer tournaments of the international scene, and it’s held every year in Portugal. It one of three championships in women’s soccer, along with the Olympics and the World Cup. It’s not as prestigious as those, but it’s still a big deal.