by Alex Morgan
After those additional three weeks, the doctors finally discovered that I had a partially torn ligament in my ankle, which meant I was going to have to wear a protective boot for several weeks. Thankfully, I wouldn’t have to have surgery, but I was going to have to stay put and let myself heal some more.
The US national team was going to a training camp from January 8–15, then playing Canada on the thirty-first, and I wasn’t going to be there. My heart was broken, and things were starting to seem more and more hopeless. I hadn’t been off the field this long since my ACL injury in high school, and so much less was at stake then.
What was hardest was that it was difficult to set goals while I was injured. As you know, I’ve been setting goals since I was a kid—get a scholarship, get to the World Cup, win the Olympics—but now all of my dreams were dependent on getting better. Then I realized that was my goal. I had to do everything possible to heal myself.
Sometimes, in order to get where you want to go, you have to turn inward. Your goals are probably all about reaching certain milestones, but oftentimes, your goals need to be much more personal. They may entail one thing: taking care of yourself. If you can do that, then you can conquer the bigger obstacles in front of you.
Taking care of myself paid off. Sometime that winter, I started to see the light at the end of the tunnel. The final diagnosis seemed to be the right one, and stabilizing my foot in the boot had actually started to heal it. My coaches on the US team and on the Thorns were patient, which meant the world to me. They believed that I’d be back where I’d been three months before, which helped me believe it too.
In late February Tom Sermanni announced the roster for the Algarve Cup, and I wasn’t on it, but I wasn’t surprised. I was in consideration, but given that I’d hardly trained with the team and was still touch and go, Tom didn’t want to risk reinjuring my ankle. That had been the whole problem to begin with.
In the meantime, I decided to set realistic goals for myself. I knew I had to be conservative in order to prevent further injury. I couldn’t take fifty extra shots after practice, for example. I’d be patient and work hard, but work smart. My goals were simple: try to make every shot as good as possible so I could take fewer and build up my speed slowly. Going too fast too soon wasn’t going to help me at all. If I could master these two fundamentals, I knew I’d be playing again soon.
Don’t Set Only Big Goals
When you’re sidelined, in sports or in life, setting smaller, realistic goals for yourself is probably the best thing you can do. You might have felt the sky was the limit before your dreams took a wrong turn, but that doesn’t mean that accomplishing small tasks can’t be satisfying. Just remember that as you accomplish small things, you’re on your way to doing bigger things in the future. No goal is too small—it’s accomplishing them that counts.
CHAPTER 51
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Being away from the national team was hard. I hadn’t missed a tournament with them in three years, and not being at the Algarve Cup—especially after our big win again Germany last year—didn’t feel right. It was so cool to see new players on the Algarve Cup roster, though. Morgan Brian, Samantha Mewis, and Sarah Killion were all still in college, and in fact, Morgan was turning twenty-one the day she arrived in Portugal! I felt like a veteran compared to them, but of course, I had been in their shoes so recently. Having new faces on the team—combined with fifteen older players who’d been to Portugal before—was a good omen for us. We’d always thrived on a mixture of experience and energy.
But it didn’t work for us. In fact, it didn’t work at all. I checked in from home regularly and was so disappointed to see us finish last in the group stage with one tie and two losses. That meant we didn’t advance to the finals, and we had to settle for a seventh-place match against North Korea. Thankfully, we won 3–0. It was Heather O’Reilly’s two hundredth appearance in an international game. On the one hand, it was a celebration for Heather, but on the other, no one expected us to get seventh place. We were the best in the world—Olympic champions and the winners of last year’s Cup!
I couldn’t stop feeling terrible about the whole thing. If I’d been there, would it have been different? Would we have advanced to the finals, like we always had? I had to push those feelings aside. A team is not about one person—or it shouldn’t be. The US national team was most certainly not. We had Tobin and Abby and Megan and Hope and every other player who’d made us the strongest team in the world. It wasn’t about one person who scored a lot of goals. We were great because we had excellent goalkeepers, strikers, midfielders, and defenders and because we played our hearts out together. Wins were group efforts, and unfortunately, so were losses. And I was feeling it even though I wasn’t on the field.
The press was throwing around the word “disaster” when they referenced our seventh-place finish, and I know we felt like that at times. But we just had to keep moving forward. This was a misstep, but it wasn’t something we couldn’t fix. We had the World Cup qualifying tournament in the fall, and I knew we could dominate it. It was all about confidence, hard work, and teamwork. We’d mastered those things before, and we could do it again.
You always have to remember that there are things in life that are out of your control. Decisions are often made that you can’t do anything about, so while you may have strong objections—or quite the opposite, think it’s the greatest thing in the world—there’s nothing you can do. You just have to let go.
That’s what the US team had to do when our head coach was fired in early April. You heard it right—Tom Sermanni was released from his contract with the national team after less than a year and a half. Just a few weeks after the Algarve Cup and hours after we’d won a friendly game against China while I was still sidelined, Tom got the news. And the next day, we received it too. He was gone, just like that.
The announcement from US Soccer was succinct. “We felt that we needed to go in a different direction at this time.” Tom admitted publicly he was shocked, and to be honest, so were we—coaches just aren’t fired that suddenly. But we weren’t surprised because there had been some issues. Many of the experienced players felt they hadn’t been pushed enough, and they thought the coaching staff’s expectations of them had noticeably dropped. It was as if Tom thought there was enough talent on the team that we didn’t have to keep fighting. Being too relaxed and not nurturing that ultracompetitive, hard-driven culture had caused us to drop games and perform badly in the Algarve Cup, and that’s when US Soccer decided they had to do something. It was now or never: If they didn’t fire him then, it would be too late to salvage our chances for the World Cup.
Tom spoke to the team after he was fired, and I had so much respect for that. He could have just walked away, but he felt he owed us something, so he gave us one last pep talk and said good-bye. Abby spoke for all of us when she said, “I wish he was a jerk in some ways because it would be easier. But that’s just not the case. He’s such a good guy. He treated us all with the utmost respect and we wish him nothing but the best of luck.”
We couldn’t dwell on the firing, though—there just wasn’t time. We had to look ahead to the 2015 World Cup, and we had had to start training hard.
Face Sudden Change with Courage
Sudden change is hard, but it’s part of life. When it happens, don’t think it’s the end of the world. Just focus on your goals and stay strong. If you have people you can talk to who are going through the same thing you are, do so. Talking to my teammates was so helpful after Tom was fired. I had been away recovering from my injury when it happened, so speaking with them helped me understand what had transpired. Have courage—you can make it through whatever life throws your way.
CHAPTER 52
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I had been dreaming of my first goal after getting back on the field. Literally having dreams about it. I wanted to play so badly, and by the beginning of summer, I thought it mig
ht be possible: My ankle was doing much better.
I’d been practicing and scrimmaging pretty regularly with the Thorns, but never straining myself too hard. Then one day during practice, Rachel Buehler tackled me. I went down, and amazingly, I didn’t even think of my ankle. I didn’t feel a thing, and no fear crossed my mind.
And then I realized: I was ready to play full-time.
I had one final MRI just to be sure, and what’s so funny is that I read the report myself! I’d had so many MRIs that I felt like an amateur radiologist. I knew my ankle backward and forward and checked every bit of the scan just to be sure it looked right. And it did.
On June 7, I returned to the field in a game against Western New York. I was so happy. I hadn’t played in seven months—the longest stretch I’d ever been away from soccer—and being back on the field was going to be a celebration for me. We lost to Western New York 5–0, which didn’t make any of us happy, but just being there reminded me of how much I’d missed playing.
Just a week later I got to play with the national team too. Jill Ellis was serving as our interim coach, and things were going well with her. She was a familiar face—she’d been an assistant coach under Pia, then the interim coach after Pia’s departure in 2012—so having her with us felt like a smooth transition. And being back on the field was natural for me too. I was subbed in during the forty-sixth minute and helped our team win 1–0 against France. It was so much fun being back!
There’s always so much pressure when you return after a long hiatus. And it’s mostly internal. When you’re a forward, you have extra tension because everyone expects you to score, but I actually like that. It motivates me, so I embrace it. If you feel pressure to perform, especially after being away from something for a while, don’t let it intimidate you. Just view the stress as something that can help you forge ahead.
Unfortunately, I got a big scare in mid-July in a game against Kansas City. Everything was going well, and then I was hit on the inside of my right ankle. That was my good ankle! I went down and noticed immediately that everything was numb. No pain, just numbness. A stretcher was brought onto the field, and the trainers carried me off.
Thankfully, it was nothing serious. I’d just hit a nerve, and soon the feeling came back. But it was a wake-up call. I’d been so excited to be back, and suddenly I was faced with the prospect of being injured again! It just goes to show you can never take anything for granted, especially your health.
• • •
The season was as rocky for the Portland Thorns as my health had been. Our hearts were in it, but we just weren’t as strong as we’d been in 2013. We lost games we should have won (like the 5–0 loss to Western New York Flash) and didn’t come together in ways I wish we had. Still, the fans showed up: We broke our attendance record when more than nineteen thousand people watched us in a game against Houston.
We did not finish on top that season. We made it to the semifinals after a thrilling win against Seattle—Allie Long had made a corner kick in the sixty-eighth minute, and I headed it into the goal right past Hope Solo—but then we lost to Kansas City in the semis. Of course, we were disappointed, but we had played hard. And there was always next year.
For my part, I was just happy to be playing again.
Don’t Take Anything for Granted
If the first half of 2014 had taught me anything, it was never to take things for granted. Life can change at a moment’s notice. My right ankle injury was terrifying, and I’m so lucky it wasn’t worse. And the failure of the Thorns to make it past the semifinals was hard—after all, we’d won so decisively the year before. Always be thankful for successes, good health, and everything else you’re blessed with in your life, and never assume that you’ll just always have them.
CHAPTER 53
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The CONCACAF World Cup qualifying tournament was the first thing on everyone’s minds at the end of the summer. We were so ready and so confident. Jill Ellis had officially been named head coach, and we felt like we’d found some stability with her. She was a modern coach, utilizing video analysis and statistics in a way that Tom hadn’t. She also strongly believed in communication, frequently meeting with us one-on-one to let us know where we stood. And she’d been around the team so much before she was named head coach so she knew our culture. It was a great fit, and our play would prove it.
We won all our friendly games at the end of the summer, and as we headed into the fall, Jill named the CONCACAF qualifying tournament roster. There were twenty of us on the list, and eleven of us had been to the World Cup before. That meant there were a lot of newcomers! But I loved this team. There was depth in every position, the play at the training camps had been excellent, and all in all, we were mentally and physically strong.
This was going to be an interesting tournament. First off, Canada wouldn’t be playing since they were guaranteed entry into the World Cup as the host country. And second, we’d be playing on US soil—four stadiums across the United States—so we’d be in front of our own fans. We were always better when the twelfth player was on our side, so this would be great for us.
Our first game was against Trinidad and Tobago. They were playing under an American coach who was doing it strictly on a volunteer basis, and they had been sent to the United States with only five hundred dollars given by their national soccer federation. They spent three hundred dollars on meals during a stopover in Miami, and then the remaining two hundred dollars to get from the airport in Dallas to their hotel. By the time they arrived there, they had no money to actually pay for the hotel, no equipment, and nothing to eat. They had to solicit donations from the local and international community just to get lunch. Thankfully, their coach’s tweets helped them raise enough to cover everything during their stay, and the Dallas Trinidadian community hosted several dinners for them.
Trinidad and Tobago played better than anyone expected, but for us, the game was nerve-racking, all too close, and we felt nothing had gone our way. Thankfully, we pulled it off in the second half. I crossed the ball to Abby in the fifty-fourth minute, and in her signature move, she headed it right in. We just squeaked a win out with a final score of 1–0. It wasn’t our best start to the tournament.
Despite that, I loved being back with the national team, and one of the best parts was being reunited with Abby. We hadn’t played together for much of 2014, and we’d really missed each other. We always thought about each other when we plotted out our strategy on the field, and we consistently made better plays together.
We headed into our October 17 game against Guatemala feeling great. If we won this match, we’d be guaranteed entry into the CONCACAF semifinals. Guatemala was coming off a disappointing loss to Haiti, so we predicted it wouldn’t be a tough game. We were hopeful, positive, and full of steam.
And I was feeling strong. My ankle was stable, and my performances on the field had been terrific. I was looking ahead and thinking positive.
But unfortunately, it’s times like that when life decides to test you again. . . .
We’d all woken up that Friday morning so excited. Like I said, if we beat Guatemala, we’d be going to the semifinals. We were playing outside of Chicago, in front of an enthusiastic crowd, and we knew we were poised for victory. Sydney and I were set to start as forwards, with Abby on the bench for a possible late-game substitution.
This time we were dominant from the moment the whistle blew. Tobin shot from inside the goal box in the seventh minute and scored decisively. And for much of the rest of the first half, we took over the field.
In the thirty-seventh minute, the Guatemalan goalkeeper punted the ball into a crowd of players. We secured it, and then a midfielder passed the ball to me as I sprinted toward the goal. While gaining control, I was flanked by two defenders who were doing a pretty good job of slowing me down, but I kept going. I began leaning toward the right, as if to shield my body between the ball
and the defender. At that moment, I stepped wrong, and my ankle turned in ninety degrees. I felt an excruciating pain shoot through it.
It was my left ankle. The one I’d spent seven months rehabbing. The ankle I hadn’t put any weight on for six weeks while I hobbled around on crutches. That same ankle had me on the ground, writhing in pain.
I was terrified. What had I done? Could this really be happening again? I couldn’t afford to be out for the next seven months. I couldn’t afford to be out for three months! I was getting married later that year, and what was I going to do—walk down the aisle on crutches? But more immediately, I wanted to play with my team throughout this tournament and see us advance to the World Cup. I’d spent months and years working for this, and one bad slip had jeopardized that.
Of course, I hadn’t seen myself fall, but if you watch it on YouTube, it looks terrible. My ankle twists inward in a pretty gruesome fashion, and watching it, I’m surprised I didn’t break it. When the stretcher took me off the field, I was so upset I felt myself struggling to breathe. How can this be happening again?
Of course, the doctors tended to me immediately, and the first few things they said were a big relief.
“It’s not broken.”
Well, at least there was that, and that was huge.
“I think it’s just a sprain. But we’ll find out tomorrow when you get an MRI.”
I was hoping against hope that it wasn’t a torn ligament or worse, and when the MRI came back the next day, it was good news. It was a sprain. There was absolutely no evidence of any other damage.
Still, I was going to be out for four to six weeks, which meant missing the rest of the CONCACAF tournament. We had beaten Guatemala decisively the night before, 5–0, so we were advancing to the semifinals against Mexico—the team who had given us so much trouble in the last CONCACAF tournament. I longed to be there, but I came to peace with the fact that I wouldn’t and that my team would be fine without me.