by Alex Morgan
We decided to send her off in style. Her farewell game was a friendly match against Australia, and we beat them handily, 6–2. After the game, Pia ran a victory lap around the field, hopping and high-stepping, and we serenaded her with “You Are My Sunshine.” The fans went crazy. As a good-bye present, we gave her a guitar signed by each of us in a color that couldn’t have been more fitting: gold.
Pia had helped balance us, had taken us through some incredible ups and downs, and most of all, had been our friend and our coach. She had basically shaped my career on the national team, taking me off the bench during strategic times and putting me in as a starter at a time the team and I needed it most. I had always been able to be honest with her, and she’d appreciated that. Pia gave me a chance with the team. She believed in me, and for that I’ll be forever grateful.
• • •
Our new coach was a former Scottish player named Tom Sermanni, who’d coached around the world, most recently in Australia, where he’d led the women’s national team to the World Cup quarterfinals in 2007 and 2011. While Pia had been a benevolent dictator, Tom was a little more laid-back. We liked him. He was a good person with tremendous experience under his belt. It was different not having Pia at a major tournament, but we were happy with Tom.
And here we were in Portugal for the Algarve Cup, about to play against Sweden, Pia’s team. We had advanced to the semifinals after winning the group stage, and we were literally staring across the sidelines at Pia as we played her team for a chance to go to the finals. It was kind of surreal.
We played hard in the beginning, but Sweden had struck first, going up 1–0 by halftime. If they won, we’d go to the third-place match, and we’d always advanced to the Algarve finals. Doing anything less would be a disappointment. So when the second half started, we were on the attack. In the fifty-sixth minute, Megan made a great corner kick that I got my head on, and the ball went in. We were tied 1–1!
Because we’d won the group stage ahead of Sweden, a tie would take us to the finals, so that was all we needed. And we got it—when the whistle blew, we were still at 1–1. We were off to the finals against Germany.
Germany was ranked #2 in the world, right behind us. But we were confident, despite Megan Rapinoe being pulled off the roster at the last minute because of an injury. My good friend Tobin Heath would replace her in midfield, which would be a little reunion since we played together on the Thorns.
The game was tough, but we played beautifully. I scored in the thirteenth minute and then again in the thirty-third off an assist from Tobin, and we won the game 2–0. We were again Algarve Cup champions—for the ninth time!—and we’d sealed our rank as the #1 soccer team in the world. Under a new coach, this was especially thrilling. We’d shown we could remain strong and stable in the midst of change.
Saying Good-Bye
Sometimes you have to say good-bye to a coach or a mentor who’s been instrumental to your goals and dreams. For me, that was Pia. Having her leave the team was devastating, but it was what was best for her—it had nothing to do with us. Try to be strong when you move on from someone you’ve looked up to and remember that the lessons they taught you are what’s most important. What you’ve learned from them will help you as much or more than their presence. And you’ll probably get a different kind of guidance from a new mentor! Try to stay positive—every new person in your life will provide a new learning experience.
CHAPTER 47
* * *
A return to the United States after the Algarve Cup meant going back to the Thorns and the beginning of our inaugural season. Our first home game was against the Seattle Reign, and more than sixteen thousand people were in the stands to cheer us on. Can you believe that? That’s more people in attendance than any WPS game or any Seattle Sounders game. Walking on the field and seeing that many people there to support us gave me the chills. I thought, Maybe we’re getting there. Maybe a professional soccer league is going to work in the United States.
People showed up for our away games too. I could hardly believe it—at one point we had seventeen thousand people up in the stands cheering, maybe not entirely for us, but definitely for women’s soccer! This was such a promising start.
We did so well that first season, playing in twenty-two games with a 10-6-6 record. I saw almost all of my national teammates at various points on the field, and while they were now my opponents, it was always fun to go against them. Because I’d played with them, I knew so many of their tricks, and playing against them always taught me something new.
We were just about to wrap up our season, with only three games left, when I received a nasty wake-up call in the form of a knee injury. Now, I hadn’t hurt my knee since my ACL injury when I was seventeen, so when I collided with a Boston Breakers player and felt a sharp pain in my left knee, it was terrifying. I was carried on a stretcher to the locker room for a preliminary evaluation, and after they put a brace on, I went back to the sidelines to watch the rest of the game. A full diagnosis would have to wait.
Thankfully, we found out later it was medial collateral ligament strain—one of the ligaments of the knee—and a few weeks’ rest and rehab were going to help me get back on the field. And believe me, I was dying to be out there. The Thorns had qualified for the NWSL championship playoffs, and I thought we had a real chance of winning it. I had to think positive. I wanted to see us win.
I was sidelined during the last few games of the season. But at that point in my career, I knew I had to force myself to be patient when I was injured. At times it killed me not to know my fate, but I rested and did physical therapy, and slowly I got better.
Unfortunately, though, I wasn’t well enough to play in our semifinal match against Kansas City. I was healthy enough to be an available substitute, but just not so healed that my coaches and I felt comfortable putting me in as a starter. So when I suited up and got ready for the game, it was with the knowledge that I was probably going to be cheering on my colleagues from the sidelines.
But what a game it was. We went down 2–0 early on, which was heartbreaking. But as halftime loomed, Tobin netted a great goal—her first for the Thorns! And we went into the second half 2–1.
Then, in the sixty-fifth minute, we scored another by an assist from Christine Sinclair, and when the whistle blew to signal the end of regulation, we were tied 2–2.
I still hadn’t played, and I was itching to get on the field. But sometimes watching someone you love get a goal is as much fun as getting your own, and that’s what happened in the 103rd minute, when my roommate, Allie Long, captured the ball and took a shot from eighteen yards. It went in! We’d come back from two down, and if we could make it fifteen more minutes, we were going to the finals.
And we did. The game ended with a 3–2 final score. We were headed to the NWSL championship!
• • •
I had thought the semifinal game was exciting, but the championship was nail-biting for a whole new set of reasons.
The Western New York Flash were a tough team. Abby Wambach and Carli Lloyd played for them, so they had the same kind of national team strength that we did. But we had some iffy players going into the game—Tobin was playing through an injury she’d sustained in the semifinals, and I still wasn’t 100 percent.
Despite our injuries, the game was incredibly physical and aggressive. There were seventeen fouls in the first half, and Tobin got shoved by a Flash player. Then she got fouled again, which led to a free kick from twenty-five yards back from the goal. She shot, and it was high, long, powerful . . . and right in the goal!
Then early in the second half, our player Kat Williamson fouled Abby Wambach and got a yellow card. Minutes later, she got a red card for taking Abby down just outside the penalty area. Kat was out of the game and we were down to ten players.
I still hadn’t gone onto the field, and I was getting antsy. If I can get a goal, we can
seal our win. But remember, soccer is about teamwork, not about glory. Even if I wasn’t playing, we could win.
I finally came on the field in the seventy-first minute, but it didn’t change much. We just didn’t get to the ball, and the Flash controlled the field. But still, we defended against them. They didn’t get any of their shots in.
Then stoppage time came, and I captured the ball off a throw-in. I passed to Christine Sinclair, who was wide open at the top of the box. We caught them in transition and capitalized on it. She took one touch to set up her right foot and made a perfect, easy shot right past the Flash’s goalie. GOAL! Christine had put one away, putting us up 2–0, and soon the whistle blew.
We had done it! In the championship game of the inaugural NWSL season, we had won. I was so proud, not just for us, but for women’s soccer in general. What a thrilling end to a beautiful year.
Thank Your Supporters
I couldn’t believe how many people showed up to cheer on the NWSL teams that first season. People loved watching us, and fans waited at the end of the game for us to sign autographs. I appreciate the support of each and every one of my fans, and their encouragement pushes me to be a better player. I grant every autograph request and answer all of my mail, thanking all my fans for their support. If you win a speech team tournament or win an award, you might remember to thank your family and friends, but thank everyone who claps for you when you walk onto the stage to claim your trophy. You may not know them, but their applause signifies their support, and that’s helping you reach your goals.
CHAPTER 48
* * *
Summer ended with me still riding high because of the NWSL championship. But soon it was time to return to the national team.
In the fall and winter of 2013, my teammates and I were training for a series of friendly games, and we were feeling great about being back together with our new coach. We’d had one game in September, and before that we hadn’t played since June. But in October we had three games scheduled in quick succession: one against Australia and two against New Zealand. We’d beaten Australia 4–0 and were looking forward to doing the same against New Zealand.
But on a closed-door scrimmage against Australia—an unofficial, unpublicized game—something happened to my left ankle. Abby and I had entered the match in the seventieth minute when we were down 2–1. We had made a pact while warming up that we would get that goal back. So we went in, and with time draining in the match, I took on a defender and lost the ball. I tracked the defender down and went in to tackle her, but when I went for the ball, I sprained my ankle—badly. I immediately knew something was very wrong, and soon my ankle swelled up larger than a softball.
“Well, we’ll do an MRI just to make sure everything’s okay, but I’m fairly confident it’s just a sprain,” said the team doctor. Whew. I’d had ankle sprains before. It’s a three-week injury. No big deal.
I knew I wouldn’t be playing against New Zealand in the next game, but maybe I’d be back for the following game.
Sure enough, the MRI confirmed what the doctor had said. It was just a sprain. Rest up, do a little physical therapy, and I’d be back in no time.
I sat on the sidelines and watched us beat New Zealand in our next two games, and pretty soon I was back on the field practicing. I still didn’t feel 100 percent, but I attributed that to having been out for a little bit. I was just rusty.
And just like that, I was playing again on November 11 in a friendly game against Brazil. Tom was pretty cautious and decided to put me in as a second-half sub, but I promised myself I’d be patient. Don’t be impatient, Alex, I told myself. He’s looking out for you, and a little rest never hurt anyone. So I took it easy, then went into the game in the sixty-eighth minute and helped our team beat Brazil 4–1.
Believe it or not, we were already starting to think about the World Cup qualifying tournament, which was going to be held the following fall. I couldn’t believe it had been almost four years since I burst onto the international scene—I felt like I’d known my teammates all my life. We’d gone through so many highs and lows—a devastating World Cup defeat, an exhilarating Olympic win, the loss of our coach, the gaining of a new one. Abby and Tobin and Sydney and everyone else were my family, and we were all counting the days till we could go to the World Cup again. Nothing was going to stop me, least of all an ankle sprain.
But as I continued training, something just didn’t feel right. My recovery had plateaued at about 80 percent. The doctors were telling me that I was fine, but I knew I wasn’t. You should always trust yourself—nobody knows your body better than you. I wasn’t getting better, and that wasn’t like me. My injuries had always healed with the proper treatment, but I kept feeling pain. What was going on?
Feelings of dread were coming over me, but I pushed them away. When things aren’t going well, you just can’t imagine the worst—it’s not going to help. I told myself to think positive and continue talking to my doctors, and I decided to get another MRI.
“Well, the news isn’t as good as we hoped,” my orthopedist said with a look of concern on his face. “You’ve gone backward instead of forward. It looks like playing on your sprained ankle caused a bone bruise, and you’ve got a stress reaction. You’re going to need to be on crutches for a few weeks.”
I knew what a stress reaction was. It’s the first stage of a bone injury, and if it accelerates, the bone will fracture. Essentially, when you have a stress fracture, you’re repeatedly injuring your bone faster than it can rebuild itself. The only cure is to put no stress on the bone, allowing it to heal.
Crutches? I was in disbelief. And I was so, so angry. The doctors and trainers had thought I could play, yet working out had made it worse. How could this happen to me? I had to keep training. I’d be going back to the Thorns soon, and the US team would be training for the Algarve Cup, and then there was the World Cup qualifying tournament. A few weeks of lost training could put me back months. So much was at stake.
In utter despair, I went back home. Nothing seemed right in my world anymore, and nothing was going to fix it at that moment.
Trust Your Gut
I knew my injury was worse than the doctors thought, so I pushed hard to get a new diagnosis. I know my body, and believing in that helped me finally find the reason for my injury. Trust your gut—you know what’s best for you. If you feel something’s wrong, don’t be afraid to speak up. You might be wrong, but at least you’ll know. If you don’t act on your instincts, though, you might never get the answer you’re looking for.
CHAPTER 49
* * *
There are few benefits to having your dreams pushed aside. It’s incredibly hard having to change directions and pursue other goals, but I promise you, if you just open your heart and let people in when things are bad, they just might make you feel better.
My teammates couldn’t have been nicer to me. I got texts and calls and e-mails all the time, and people stopped by just to see how I was doing. My parents called me almost every day, and my dad constantly reminded me that I’d had it worse when I injured my ACL—I’d had to go in for surgery back then! And look what I’d done since—I’d only gotten better. Abby had broken her leg a few years back (right before the Olympics!) and she was a stronger player than she’d ever been. This could make me stronger, and I just had to tell myself that again and again.
And then there was my boyfriend. With nonstop training and different schedules, Servando and I hadn’t had any downtime in the last few years. He was now playing for the Houston Dynamo, and it had been hard not to see him as often in person.
But with me off the field, I could spend more time with Servando. I moved to Houston, and it was great for our relationship. In all our time together, we’d always had totally different schedules. Now it was nice to spend so much time in each other’s presence, not having a long-distance relationship. Plus, it was great not living out of a suitca
se!
So even though I was miserable being on crutches, I had happiness in my life—a lot of it. That’s the funny thing about being down and out: It makes the bright, happy moments feel even better. It’s like when there are clouds filling the sky and the sun pokes its way through—it’s almost prettier than a sunny day.
• • •
On a beautiful night that December, Servando and I got engaged. We had been talking about getting married for a while, but it was still a perfect surprise—one that I got to celebrate with family and friends. It also happened at a time I needed it most. I’d felt vulnerable and at times miserable, but I was growing as a person despite it all. When you’re feeling low, just know that glimmers of happiness are out there somewhere. People may be kind to you when you’re feeling your worst, and something unexpectedly wonderful may happen, bringing a smile to your face.
Be Optimistic
See? Sometimes when things are at their worst, great things can happen. Happiness often shows up when you least expect it. Even though rehab and being on crutches was difficult in so many ways, I got to spend valuable time with my boyfriend and start to plan a life together with him. We grew stronger despite what I was going through. So always be optimistic—good things might be just around the corner!
CHAPTER 50
* * *
As 2014 began, I still wasn’t physically where I needed to be. I’d gone through several doctors and had more MRIs, but the source of the problem was still a mystery. I was on crutches for three weeks, and when I went to see my doctor, I expected her to tell me I could stop using them. She rescanned my foot, said there had been little improvement, and told me to stay on crutches for three more weeks. I didn’t think I’d be able to take it. Six full weeks on crutches? I thought.