Breakaway

by Alex Morgan

  With that we were tied 2–2. Overtime ended, and we were going to penalty kicks.

  Shannon Boxx was up first. This was Shannon’s second World Cup, and while I knew she must have been nervous, she was a veteran and a professional. We could depend on her.

  She shot, and the Japanese goalie dove to the left, deflecting the ball off her foot. We’d missed. This was not a good start.

  But remember, things can change in an instant, and it was Japan’s turn to kick. They set the ball down, ran for it, shot . . . and scored. We were down 1–0 in penalties.

  It was our turn again, and our hearts were in our throats as Carli Lloyd went up to the line. C’mon, Carli, I thought to myself. She paused for a moment and moved toward the ball. Her kick was high . . . and it sailed over the top. Carli put her hand over her wide-open mouth, like she was either shocked or was going to be sick. We knew how she felt—this had gone from bad to worse.

  But again, things can change in an instant, and while we were down 2–1 in penalty shots, Japan could still miss, and we’d have a chance to climb back. It was still early.

  The Japanese player put the ball on the penalty mark, backed up, ran toward the ball, kicked . . . and as it sailed toward Hope, I saw her dive for it. She saved it! We were back!

  Then it was Tobin Heath’s turn. Tobin has become one of my closest friends, and she’s a powerful presence on the field. But she was subbing for Megan Rapinoe here, and she was feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders.

  She put the ball on the mark, ran toward it, and kicked it right into the goalie’s hands. Tobin looked to be in utter disbelief. As the player next to me gripped my hands harder, I realized we were all in utter disbelief.

  This was so uncharacteristic of us. We never missed kicks in a shoot-out, and here we were, having missed three in a row. Carli’s kick had been completely off, and Tobin’s had just been weak. What had happened?

  There was no time to think as the Japanese kicker came to the line. She shot, the ball sailed toward the goal, and Hope dove for it. She got her hands on it, but she couldn’t keep it out. Japan had scored. Our spirits sank lower.

  Now, at this point we had to score or we’d lose the game. Abby was up next, and looking like she’d done this a thousand times, she put the ball down, kicked, and scored, making it all seem so easy. She ran back toward us with a serious look, then pumped her hands, as if she’d forgotten to celebrate. That was right. It wasn’t over.

  Hope took a bit of time getting back to the goal for the next penalty kick. The Japanese player was ready, but Hope was making her wait. If Japan got this in, it was over. I knew she needed time to collect herself.

  The ball sailed high, and it was a beautiful shot, spinning just slightly as it went over Hope’s head. I heard Japan begin to scream and saw their sidelined players run onto the field, and I knew it was over. There was nothing Hope could have done. The game was all Japan’s.

  We had lost the World Cup in penalty kicks, and it was time to go home.

  • • •

  I can’t describe the sadness and disappointment we felt. We’d worked so hard, and we’d come so far. Losing in a dramatic fashion like that is a shock to your system, and everyone feels responsible.

  I walked to the stands, where my parents, my sister Jeri, and my aunt were waiting for me. I was crying, hugging them, and just looking for a little comfort. There was nothing they could say to change what had happened, but being with them made me feel just the tiniest bit of peace.

  It would take me days and weeks to process it all, and in many ways I still am. But all you can do is pick yourself up and move on to the next game. Which is what I planned to do. We’d learn something from this, and we’d be back.

  Don’t Blame Yourself

  Losing or failing is the most difficult thing in the whole world. When you work so hard for something, not making your goal feels like a death. There’s no satisfaction, only pain. It’s easy to blame yourself for the mistakes you made—and believe me, we made a lot in the World Cup—but kicking yourself isn’t worth it. Blame gets you nowhere. Just try to learn something from the mistakes you made and try to do things differently next time.

  CHAPTER 34

  * * *

  After the World Cup I hadn’t expected to feel as mentally drained as I did. I knew I’d be physically tired, but the emotional side was a whole different thing. I gave myself time to let that pass, and eventually, it did. I didn’t embrace the pain—I just let it be—and it finally went away of its own accord.

  The press was very kind to us, and we got a lot more support than I’d expected. I thought we’d receive criticism from some people and sympathy from others, but instead the press and fans were proud of us. I wasn’t happy to come home in second place, but our fans didn’t turn against us, and I was grateful for that. I’m sure there were some people who were critical, but I missed it, thankfully. We couldn’t have fought harder than we did in the World Cup, and most people saw that.

  It also seemed like people were pretty happy for Japan. Even President Barack Obama sent Japan his congratulations, tweeting,

  Congratulations to Japan, women’s World Cup champions.

  Thankfully, he added that he couldn’t be prouder of the women of the US national team after a hard-fought game.

  He was right, and I had to remember that. We had fought hard. We had played hard. And we’d played as a team, with each and every player contributing to the beautiful goals we’d made, the heroic saves, and the next-to-impossible assists.

  My goal for the World Cup had been to win, and that didn’t happen, but I quickly realized that it wasn’t the end of the world. Goals can be missed—on the field and in life—and it’s what you learn from it that counts.

  Plus, I’d met lots of my goals along the way—score a World Cup goal (I’d scored two!), make a World Cup assist, and prove that I wasn’t just some twenty-two-year-old kid fresh out of college. Well, I was a twenty-two-year-old fresh out of college, but I wasn’t a kid. I’d shown real maturity on the field, and I wasn’t just Baby Horse anymore.

  “I think she’s a stallion now,” said Megan Rapinoe.

  • • •

  When I went home, I went back to playing for the Western New York Flash. In fact, I had a match within three days after the final against Japan! I was tired but ready to get on the field again. Maybe it would help me forget what happened at the World Cup final.

  Day by day, it did help. And at the end of August, I felt really good because we were set to play the Philadelphia Independence in the championship Women’s Professional Soccer game. There were more than ten thousand people in attendance, which showed how much women’s soccer in the United States had exploded since the World Cup. While it might have been a fraction of the number of people who were at the World Cup final, it was a record for a Women’s Professional Soccer final.

  I played for 104 minutes, and we went into overtime. It seemed like a theme in my life at this point! We were so evenly matched with Philadelphia—both offensively and defensively—and it was a lot of back and forth the first half, with no one scoring.

  The hilarious thing that happened early in the first half—much-needed comic relief, since we were all a little jumpy—was that a squirrel ran onto the field and wouldn’t get off. It ran in a little circle in the penalty box, just going around and around and at one point dragging its stomach and back legs along the ground. Finally, an official had to come onto the field with a box and drag it off. You can watch it on YouTube—it’s got more than three hundred thousand views, in fact.

  Christine Sinclair—our captain and one of Canada’s best players—finally scored for us in the second half, and we thought for sure we’d won until Amy Rodriguez, my teammate from the national team, scored for the Independence with two minutes left in regulation. You might remember that Amy was the forward I kept subbing for dur
ing the World Cup. She’s a great player, and even though I wish she hadn’t scored, I was impressed by what a good goal it was.

  After two sets of extra time during which no one scored, we went to penalty kicks. We scored all five of our goals, though I didn’t shoot since I’d been subbed out at that point. Philadelphia had made four out of their five when their last kicker went up. She shot . . . and she missed.

  The Flash won! I think even the squirrel was excited.

  • • •

  My first year of professional soccer was wonderful in so many ways. I played with international players, I learned a tremendous amount from a new coach, and I loved training every day.

  Unfortunately, the WPS folded in May 2012. We were incredibly disappointed, but we weren’t surprised. There were a lot of mistakes, bad decisions, and unfortunate events that had happened throughout the WPS’s short history: One of the team owners filed a lawsuit against the league; some teams were paying players much higher salaries than other teams, so owners were seeing big losses at the end of each season; and many teams kept switching owners, which would cause the team to have to rebrand itself. All of these issues led to major financial troubles.

  This was a blow to all of us. The WPS had been the second US women’s soccer league to shut down, and we all wondered what the future held for professional soccer. We were an international powerhouse. Why couldn’t we be one in our own country? And ten thousand people had shown up for the championship. Didn’t that mean something?

  I made a promise to help advance professional soccer for women. I’d do everything in my power to help elevate it to the place it deserved. People should be watching it on TV every weekend! I could help them by playing my best with my teammates and winning games. The more exciting the games and the higher the level of play, the more people would attend games and the more money would flow into the sport. Soccer was too important to too many young women to let it fall by the wayside.

  Distractions Can Help

  Returning to the United States after the World Cup loss was hard, but I began to feel better when I joined the Western New York Flash again. Playing with them distracted me from the pain I was feeling from the loss. I didn’t forget what had happened, but at least I was able to focus on something different. If you’ve missed a goal or experienced a loss, try to actively engage in something, if only for a little bit. If you didn’t get a part in a play, dive into another school activity. Or if you failed a test, try to study extra hard in another class. Doing well at something else may just lift your spirits.

  CHAPTER 35

  * * *

  Sometimes when you have so much going on in your life your relationships can fall by the wayside. I think this is okay if those relationships are destructive or don’t add much to your life, but you can never, ever forget the people who’ve been wonderful to you along the way. Remember: You didn’t get to where you are by yourself—those relationships helped get you there!

  It had been hard being away from Servando so much. We hadn’t lived in the same city for more than a year. He’d been at Cal while I was training for the Olympics, and then he’d gone to Seattle to play professionally for the Sounders. We talked all the time, but it wasn’t the same.

  What was especially hard was that while we were both playing soccer, doing what we loved, we were in different places in life in many ways. We just had so much going on that didn’t involve each other—him a professional career and me the World Cup. Our day-to-day lives didn’t consist of the basic things that keep couples on the same page—from going out with the same friends to grocery shopping together.

  There was tension in our relationship. We’d always been so close, and suddenly, our lives had diverged. What was happening to us?

  The worst thing you can do in a relationship is not talk about something that’s causing problems. When you don’t talk, the problem just gets bigger, and you start feeling tense or fighting. So one day we decided to have a conversation about it, and it made things much better. We realized we both loved each other and wanted to support each other no matter what—if we were in different cities, if one of us was more famous or making more money than the other, whatever. We just wanted to be together. And ultimately, that was what was important!

  Little did I know that Servando was also campaigning to get me to come to Seattle. He didn’t just want us to stay together; he wanted us to be together. When the WPS folded, I’d been left without a team. But the Sounders had a semiprofessional women’s team, so Servando began to talk to the general manager about bringing me over. She loved the idea, and one day she called me.

  Of course, I accepted immediately.

  Servando and I would be in the same city for the first time in more than a year. We could wear the same jerseys, we could go to each other’s games, and best of all, we could go on dates like a normal couple. No more late-night phone calls in different time zones, no more missing each other every second of every day. We could be together for real. It was wonderful for both of us.

  Going to the Sounders was also a reunion with the national team—Hope Solo, Megan Rapinoe, Stephanie Cox, and Sydney Leroux played for them. I had missed these women terribly, and playing with them again felt like going home. It also gave us the chance to remember what made us such a good team and work out some of the kinks that had held us back in the previous year.

  And Seattle is a terrific sports town—they love their soccer teams. Even though I got to play in only three games that year because of my commitments with the national team, the Sounders women sold out nine out of their ten games, and attendance at the games was four times higher than the next team in the league. We felt supported and loved, and all in all, it was a perfect bridge to the Olympic qualifying tournament.

  Surrounded by people I loved, I headed toward the next goal in my life. . . .

  Protect Your Relationships

  I can’t stress enough how important it is to keep good relationships in your life as you make your dreams come true. But you have to nurture these relationships—they do take work. If I hadn’t talked to Servando about our problems, we would have had even more issues. Take time each day to think about the people in your life you love, and tell them how much you need them. They will appreciate it—I promise.

  CHAPTER 36

  * * *

  My big goal at the beginning of the national team season in January 2012 was to get on to the starting lineup, and I was ready to work as hard as I needed to get there.

  The season started off with another CONCACAF qualifying tournament, this time for the 2012 Olympics to be held that summer in London. If we qualified for the Olympics, Pia would name the Olympic roster in late May, a little more than a month before the games.

  Being back with the national team was wonderful. Most of the bad feelings from last year’s World Cup had passed, and we were all feeling bullish about the games ahead. And it’s funny to say, but we were just a better team. Maybe going through such a tough time had made us stronger. Oftentimes, that’s the case.

  The tournament was occurring over ten days in Vancouver at the end of January. Like at the World Cup qualifying tournament, there were eight teams, and the first- and second-place winners were guaranteed a spot at the Olympics.

  I won’t go into too much detail about the early games except to say that it was some of the best soccer of our lives, and we were playing completely as a team. We had grown so much since the World Cup, building from our mistakes and becoming even stronger. We steamrolled the competition in the group stage, beating the Dominican Republic 14–0, then defeating Guatemala 13–0! We shut out Mexico 4–0 in the last game of the group stage, which felt particularly sweet in light of our loss to them in the World Cup qualifying tournament. But it wasn’t about redemption. We just wanted to keep winning.

  Then we dominated Costa Rica 4–0 in the semifinals, which secured our spot in the Olympics.

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p; We hadn’t doubted that we’d be going to the Olympics, but to do it so decisively felt great. We were a scoring machine, and we didn’t give up a single goal in those early games, showing that our defense was stronger than ever. I was so proud of the way we’d played, and I was honored to be in the company of such powerhouse players. As for going to the Olympics? While I wasn’t guaranteed to be on the roster, all indications were that I would be. The thought of it was a dream come true.

  But despite how dominant we’d been, I still hadn’t been named a starter, and I was getting antsy. Did Pia not want to change things around since we’d been playing so well lately? Or was I just too important as a late-game weapon? Either way, the decision was out of my hands, so I vowed to be patient. I knew I’d get there.

  The day before the next game, the final against Canada, I had one of the best practices of my life. Every shot I took went in, and every play I made was perfect. I began to have the strangest feeling. I sensed a voice deep inside me whispering that tomorrow could be my first-ever start with the team.

  And then Pia pulled me aside after training and started talking to me.

  “Alex, you’ve been working really hard, and you’ve proven yourself on this team. I’m proud of all that you’ve done.”

  I began to smile. Pia hadn’t exactly said that I’d be starting, but her words fueled my hope.

  Sure enough, when the starting lineup was named the night before the game, there I was.