I have been brought to tears on the sidelines as the stands around me burst into cries of joy, the players on the field running to leap over barriers in their craze to celebrate an Open Cup quarterfinal victory. I have stood teeth chattering in the net on the field after being anointed with ice-cold water from a bright orange vat of Gatorade for synching playoffs. Fresh out of my first season marketing for my home state's pro-soccer team—who made a notable run at the Lamar Hunt U.S. Open Cup and made playoffs in their premier year—I am fortunate my first brushes with soccer were in the home stands among the largest record-breaking crowds in the United Soccer League (USL) Championship or the away section of Major League Soccer teams. Even such historic matches, however, pale in comparison to watching my lavender/pink-haired heroine play on my favorite soccer team.
I think one of my favorite days at the office was the 2019 FIFA (Women's) World Cup Final. The entire front office huddled around a lopsided projection on the wall of the team store that our box office manager rigged as an alternative to all of us watching it separately at our desks with overlapping audio and erupting in downstairs/upstairs celebrations with every goal (an experience we had all suffered the rest of the tournament through). Sitting there campfire style in an array of office chairs working on our laptops we collectively experienced the exhilaration as Megan Rapinoe extended her arms victoriously in the face of France. I have watched every US Women’s National Team (USWNT) match since on varying televisions at local soccer bar watch parties or my own home screen. If you follow women's soccer at all, you will know how hard it is to locate a stream of matches even at the highest level of competition, but I dutifully filled out every FOX Sports trial to see them play.
Anyways, I was working out one day in early January and, during a breather, I looked at my phone (which you should never do in the middle of a work out because it totally breaks your focus). I opened a soccer buddy’s text from our local team's supporters group.
"Concaf WOQ Semifinals...it's happening! Get your tickets...if you want tickets with the Outlaws let me know."
There was no question in my mind whether I wanted tickets—only eight hundred and one miles now stood between the lens of my Canon EOS Rebel T6 and Megan Rapinoe's cleats on the grass of Dignity Health Sports Park in Carson, California. Without a second thought I said yes, sent my friend the money and within minutes had my spot reserved for the USWNT Olympic Qualifying semifinal and final matches before they even went on sale to the general public. I had no way of getting there or anywhere to stay, but I had tickets to see Rapinoe play!
A month passed and, as the date approached, I debated whether I should return the tickets or book a flight. My budget, if I had one, was $400 tops round trip for travel and lodging. Southwest Airlines really came in for an assist on this one. I was able to get plane tickets a couple of weeks out totaling around $170, but only if I stayed seven days since the two bordering dates (leaving on a Wednesday and flying out on a Monday) were the least expensive tickets. This gave me the even greater conundrum of finding somewhere to stay in Los Angeles for five days. At first, I thought I might stay with a cousin in San Diego, but with the matches so close together the transportation to and from did not make sense logistically or financially. I downloaded all the apps to scout the Air B&B market, but at best those stays alone were $400+ which was my entire budget. Then, the brilliant email marketers at Southwest Airlines sent me a communication prompting me to book a hotel with one of their partners. My professional curiosity paired with desperation had me clicking into the email where the first option, for the reasonable price of $188, ended up being a hostel. I’ve heard about hostels but never stayed in one myself. It was the only option in my price range, though. I would also have access to the amenities of a pool and gym since it was at a hotel. I booked it with shaking fingers and did not look back.
I do not regret this decision, though a tired Dorian later that week might have challenged this, I retain that it was worth the sleepless nights if only to see that queen on the pitch.
Albuquerque > Los Angeles
The day arrived and, after some friendly TSA pat-downs and minus a small container of pomade (RIP Groom Premium Quality Hair Product Styling Fiber High Hold), my jerseys and I were boarding the early flight out of Albuquerque to LA. I hopped on the metro to Santa Monica as soon as we touched down, where I spent the rest of the day lounging on the beach near the pier. I do not often get to experience the ocean, hailing from a high mountain desert, so I enjoyed soaking in every minute of it.
With sea air in my lungs and sand pretty much everywhere else I hailed a Lyft to Freehand in downtown LA. My bunk bed was exactly as depicted on their website and my hours-long Instagram posts stalk. Not five minutes into settling in, an unexpected companion for the week swept through the door. He saw my USWNT hat, did a double-take and immediately exclaimed: "I think we are here for the same reason!" He rifled through his luggage and emerged holding up a red and white beanie bearing the Canadian badge. We shared a good laugh, talked some serious soccer stats, took a couple of rivalry selfies and agreed to arrange transport to the stadium together.
One of many sleepless nights later...
Match Day 1 - USWNT vs Mexico
I like to start my match days with an early workout (as if my less-than-athletic person would be subbed in). I mixed and ate my protein powder oatmeal and headed down to the hotel gym where I lifted some free weights, happy to have more than 44lbs combined to work with. I hit the showers and donned my gear for the match which featured my #15 of Nike’s highest-grossing jersey ever with a gold FIFA 2015 patch and both sleeve sponsor patches I ironed on myself with varying levels of success. (I plan to film a DIY tutorial on 'How Not to Burn a Hole in Your $75+ Jersey,' a fate I was unable to avoid despite my semi-pro cosplay career.)
I missed a couple of metro stops on the way to the stadium in my excited haste. (I’m not a city boy and I feel it is a confusing system even if you are.) So, I hailed a Lyft which got me there just in time to buy a commemorative match scarf with ‘Pinoe’s likeness from the Outlaw’s tailgate and enjoy the interactive social media experience of Concacaf’s ‘We Belong’ photo and GIF stations.
I claimed my front row spot right behind the net, ready for the match of a lifetime with my first red, white and blue soccer scarf tightly wound around my neck so that you could still see the gold patch at my collar accented by two gold chains (another shameless nod to ‘Pinoe fashion). Standing in a loud supporter’s section is nothing new to this card holding member of the USL Championship’s biggest and craziest supporter’s group. In fact, I would prefer singing, cheering and jumping loudly in unison to any other experience in the stadium. That is to say, I was underwhelmed by the capoing and chanting of the Outlaws. I realize that these groups are coming from all over to convene in support of our team, but for the World Champions I would hope we could muster up a bit more gusto. This did nothing to dampen the experience, though, the fragile LA Galaxy supporters tried all of our patience. They could not deal with the thought that their newly built supporter’s section might first cheer on the USWNT, so we were all relocated behind the other goal dangerously close to kick-off. This demand was paired with free concessions coupons and a refund of our tickets, though, so I wasn’t exactly complaining as I settled in to watch the match with beer, fries and a churro.
Nourishment lost all meaning the second lavender hair graced the pitch, though, wildly amiss among the other blonde and brunette heads bobbing out of royal blue jackets as the USWNT filed out of their locker room. I jumped to my feet and joined in on a hearty National Anthem led by a capo wearing American flag pants. Our team met Mexico in the middle of the field, tossed the coin and the match was off to the one-sided start I’d hoped for and been led to believe by many soccer fortune tellers would occur.
Megan came out banging with three shots on goal—one of which we all swore was in, including the brilliant forward, but was called offsides leaving Megan hanging on the back of the net staring up at us in dismay.
Lavelle finally found that elusive white fiber of the bottom right corner, netting the first goal of the match at the 5' mark. The stands erupted into celebration as Megan hoisted Lavelle into the air with the rest of the team surrounding her. It was an exciting first of four live goals I witnessed that day from the world champions. I shouted, chanted and sang through three more goal celebrations, many off of set-pieces by Megan Rapinoe, with some of the best USWNT supporters around (including sports personality, Samantha Miller).
Rapinoe was awarded a free kick on a foul at the beginning of the second half, but the ball came up short of the net. She made some crosses that very nearly resulted in goals, but alas it was not to be in this match. Fortunately, Mewis netted her first goal of the match at 40' and another in the 67' through a tight conglomeration of both sides in the box. Christen Press followed in the 74' with a beautiful scoop past Alvarado giving the USWNT a total of 4:0 by the final whistle and earning our side a ticket to Tokyo 2020.
Sitting at a metro station in Compton late at night you may start to ponder what terrible errors in judgment you made in life to bring you to such a state. My highlight reel began to play in my head. Armed with only the high of watching my ladies beat Mexico to claim their Olympic spot, I was untouchable or so I hoped. One uncomfortable and likely dangerous run in on the metro later—where Canada and I were unceremoniously and seemingly without cause untied in matrimony by the entertainment you can only find on the nightly metro in LA—we returned to Freehand unharmed.
Rest Day
I spent my day between matches in Santa Monica at my cousin’s restaurant where I was given the VIP treatment. I enjoyed a mimosa that never ran dry throughout my long lunch visit. The first course was a goat cheese and beet salad which was absolutely to die for, followed by the best turkey burger I have ever had in my life and accompanied by delicious garlic shoestring fries. This divinity was topped off with a chocolate ganache and a big hug from my dear cousin. If you find yourself hungry in Santa Monica, do yourself a favor and grab a bite at Margo's. I scootered down to the pier for a couple more hours of sea breeze before heading back to the heart of LA. I freshened up at Freehand for a Saturday night on the town in West Hollywood (affectionately referred to by the local populous as WeHo) with my buddy from high school. It was a fun, flagrant and festive reunion where I toured the best gay bars the city had to offer.
Match Day 2 - USWNT vs Canada
Yes, I still got up early to work out and enjoy my usual dietary routine at the hostel. Honestly, did you think a night in West Hollywood would prevent me from being in top form for cheering on my ladies? This trip had one purpose and nothing would get in the way (including Canada). Roomie and I got to the stadium with time to spare, took some more rivalry selfies and parted ways wishing the other luck with crossed fingers—may the best women win. I snagged one of the last seats in the second row of the supporter's section right behind the net and enjoyed a pink lemonade before the match was off.
The USWNT took on their regional rival on a considerably colder morning, which made us all glad that scarves are a fandom item of choice in this sport. Both teams already qualified for the Olympics making this final match more of a friendly with only the Concacaf title to win. It was anything but friendly, though. I think this match had some of the most contact I've ever seen in women's soccer. I became used to men rolling around the pitch like babies coming from a USL background (to which my home supporters section often cried 'pobrecito'). This is one of the many reasons I love women's soccer so much more. I will always remember Beck Sauerbrunn in the 2019 FIFA Women's World Cup final running right back onto the field, still bleeding from underneath her pink headband but she insisted on playing. You do not see such valiance in men's soccer I assure you.
Our hearts stopped in the 77' when one of the beloved royal couple was taken down as she went for a header by Sinclair's elbow. Ali Krieger was grounded for an agonizing couple of minutes, her wife watching in horror from the sidelines as medics rushed to her and were even bringing out the stretcher.
Krieger got back on her feet, to our collective relief, and played the rest of the match, unlike the unfortunate Panama goalie I'd watched in similar horror from my bedroom screen earlier in the tournament.
The two teams battled hard with the score still 0:0 at halftime. Rapinoe was not in the starting lineup for this match but, as with more lineups in this tournament than not, Vlatko saved her to re-energize her side. The match changed as soon as she was subbed on in the second half for McDonald. Lynn Williams broke the tie at 60' with a strike after multiple attempts on goal. The bar acted as Canada's best defense against the USWNT for most of the match. Lindsey Horan followed up quickly at 75' with a chest to touch goal, securing the USWNT lead.
'Pinoe pink Nike exclusive cleats finally found the back of the net for the first time in 2020 at 87'. She recovered quickly from a face plant immediately inflicted by Canada's keeper and hopped up, running towards the stands in celebration. The forward glanced back over her shoulder towards her team mischievously with a gleeful gleam in her eye before turning with a wide smile. She thrust her arms out wider than ever in victory to a deafening roar from the stadium. This was the crowning punctuation on a tournament well fought by the USWNT with their new head coach.
Fireworks flew high with white and red confetti overtaking the air above Dignity Health Sports Park as the World Champions took the stage. Christen Press walked away with the Golden Ball and Pinoe joined in on some confetti angels centerfield with her teammates, medals hanging from red ribbons around their necks.
Goodbye LA, Until Next Time
I returned to walk the streets of WeHo in daylight on my final day in LA where I enjoyed a nice meal at Hamburger Mary’s before returning to Freehand. I spent the afternoon basking in the Hollywood sun on the rooftop pool enjoying all the luxuries Freehand had to offer and reflecting on the trip of a lifetime.
Bright and early the next morning I boarded a plane back to Albuquerque on a promise I would see Megan Rapino play in person again. What worldly stadium seat would my #15 jersey grace? The answer eludes even me at this moment—perhaps a #SheBelieves Cup match or some greater venture entirely. The only certainty is that this is just the beginning of an exciting soccer sojourn.
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