A Pyrrhic Tie
There are few institutions left in this country that haven’t been soiled by the oil spill known as Donald Trump, but one of them is the United States Women’s National Soccer Team. Its coach is Emma Hayes. She is British. But her heart is also here. Emma Hayes took charge of our national team after it had fallen flat in the last Women’s World Cup, left toppled in the sands around its empty pedestal.
In 70 days, Hayes took her team to Olympic gold. Olympic gold was merely Emma Hayes rolling up her sleeves. She is embarked on a vast project. By the end of her tenure, whenever that may be, she will leave US Women’s Soccer on every level re-built, souped up and humming. Most recently, in preparation for the 2027 Women’s World Cup in Brazil, she matched the U.S. women against Spain, the team that has dethroned them as the indisputable world №1.
I attended the first of the two recent so-called “friendlies” in Washington. As I made inquiries around the hotel lobby, there was no other conclusion to be drawn than that all the pre-game buzz had only to do with an upcoming appearance by the Savannah Bananas — whoever the fuck they are — and that no one had a clue about the USWNT and its game down the street in a few hours.
Be that as it may, in that first game, Spain cuffed the Americans aside and won, 2–0.
In the second game, three nights later outside Philadelphia, Spain again went up 2–0 in no time and might be said to cock its head almost tauntingly as if to ask of the reeling Americans, would you like some more of that or should we just call it a day.
Try to imagine those minutes in the U.S. dressing room at halftime. Try to imagine the post-match world facing the U.S. Women should they fail back out on the field in the next 45 minutes.
Hayes made some lineup and tactical changes.
The U.S. came back to tie Spain 2–2. The way they did this bears mention. Ashley Sanchez scored the first goal of the second half. I’d watched her play for UCLA before she turned pro. A silky, prolific scorer who makes defenders jumpy when she bears down on them with the ball at her feet nearing the top of the box. Prolific with her club but consistently left off the national team because she failed to deliver goals at an elite level. Presented in the 49th minute with her last chance at earning a plane ticket to Brazil, Sanchez took her shot with cunning and extraordinary accuracy, showing a quality of markswomanship Spain had not yet seen from the U.S.
In the 86th minute, Mallory Swanson ran onto a feed from Michelle Cooper in the box, took the ball on the roll and in one motion with her right foot chided it to hop up off the turf in the same way she had no doubt teed up innumerable balls in so many playgrounds and schoolyards over the years. Taking it in the air, she volleyed it home.
The U.S. pressed for a winning goal that did not come. Nevertheless…
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I couldn’t help thinking back to a men’s National Football League game nearly 20 years ago when the New York Giants played the New England Patriots. It was the last game of the regular season. The Giants had already qualified for the playoffs. Their coach Tom Coughlin had been urged by some to rest his starters for the knockout games on deck. But he refused. He sent his best players out against the unbeaten Patriots and Tom Brady. The Patriots eked out a win, 38–35, completing their undefeated regular season.
I was in the Giants’ locker room after the game. The losers sat at their stalls, not downcast but wild-eyed through their drying sweat. Call it a Pyrrhic loss.
Yes, there was the scoreboard. But the team had won something after all and maybe bigger — the belief they could beat the champions if they went toe-to-toe again. Which they did in the ensuing Super Bowl.
Nobody thought they could win that game.
Except them.
After the women’s game that night in Philly I wasn’t in the locker room, of course.
But I feel confident there were no sloped shoulders in there.
Nobody believed the U.S. women could match up against №1 Spain and beat them in next year’s World Cup if it came to that.
But now the U.S. Women’s National Team believes it can.
Enough cannot be said about Emma Hayes’ coaching. In preparing her team for a brawling tournament yet eight months away, she has brought them to this all important step. Yes, there are injuries and yes big, glaring holes in the lineup to sort out. But foremost, Emma Hayes wanted to get the team to a point where they wouldn’t be walking into a dark alley in Brazil next summer, not knowing what they’d come face to face with. They had to know that if, when they walked down that alley and came face to face with Spain, they could lick them. And now they do.
Call it a Pyrrhic tie.
