Women's World Cup postmortem

Given that this blog has been exclusively dedicated to the Women's World Cup so far, it may seem out of place that I haven't yet gotten around to opining on the way this year's tourney ended. Rather than do that, however, I'm going to paste in excerpts from two blog posts I wrote four years ago -- the first after the U.S. women's team was stomped on by Brazil in the World Cup semifinals and the second after we pulled out the bronze-medal win.

September 27, 2007

I still remember my brother's away message after his Knights got killed by my Gators last year. "Mourning the massacre." Well, I can relate. Earlier today, the greatest team you've never heard of was upset in a big way.

I'm mourning for Brianna Scurry, and for Shannon Boxx, and yes, I'm even mourning for Greg Ryan (the stupid bastard). But really what I'm mourning here is soccer in America. ...

Nothing has ever succeeded in energizing Americans like wild, unadulterated successes. There was an explosion of interest after the '99 World Cup; Chastain's was the modern shot heard 'round the world. It sparked a following like no women's sport had ever before (or ever since) received, and Sports Illustrated bestowed its grandest honor on not any individual but the entire team that year.

Yet, as the latest iteration of the tournament was approaching, endemic skepticism seemed to sweep across the land. Sure, the country seemed to say, the hype was awesome while it lasted, but no American team can possibly hope to capture the cup, and the imagination of the world, without Foudy and Fawcett and Akers and Hamm...

Can they?

The bottom line was, these girls had one chance to reignite this country's nascent passion for the greatest sport the world has ever known, and just one way to do it. They had to at least earn a championship berth, and in the process take the world by storm. They had to win, and do it big, making household names of Solo, Tarpley, Osborne, Lloyd... they had to, they had to, they had to, and they didn't.

This morning, bad coaching and worse officiating extinguished our hopes of bringing home title number three. One hell of an impressive 21-year-old named Marta led Brazil to a 4-0 rout of the United States and left me mourning the massacre of my all-time favorite game.

September 30, 2007

Eureka, we're alive! A couple closing thoughts:

• Despite Germany's unprecedented eleven-nothing win in the tournament opener, and their clinching of the Cup this morning, Marta of Brazil still managed to walk away with the Golden Boot. They're already calling her the best female player in the world -- right up there with countryman Ronaldinho for the men.
  

• Power striker Abby Wambach scored six goals in six consecutive world cup games. What a feat. That's the kind of thing they used to look to Mia for. She is widely considered to be the heart of the U.S. team, and at 27, she'll be around to lead us on to victory for many years to come. Keep an eye out.

• Hats off to captain Kristine Lilly. I knew this was to be her last World Cup; something I didn't realize is that she's the only person to have appeared in all five, having made her international debut some -- count 'em -- twenty years ago. She stepped off the field in the 88th minute of the third-place game to deafening applause by an audience that seemed to understand instinctively the weight of the event. I was reminded in a powerful way of Michelle Akers's historic exit from the title game in '99, when the world stood and cheered for someone they recognized as the greatest women's player of her time.

The more things change, the more they stay the same, eh?