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Share the Soccer Love, Kristine!

By Bill Zahren
(Posted 09/26/03)

U.S. Women’s World Cup soccer team midfielder, Kristine Lilly, I think you owe me a visit to my tony West Des Moines, Iowa, residence.

It’s the least you can do after being responsible (albeit indirectly) for traumatizing my dog and putting Andres Cantor in my head.

It was your frozen-rope, 60-foot goal in a Sept. 21 World Cup game against Sweden, Kristine. I’m sure you didn’t think there would be any consequences from such a nationally televised display of raw leg power and precision accuracy. This is the age of accountability, you know.

When you roped it into the upper 90 (upper corner), I screamed so loud I spooked my dog. And ever since then I’ve had Mexican soccer announcer Andres Cantor screaming "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL" in my head.

More specifically:

"GOOOOOOOOOOL
GOL-GOL-GOL-GOL
GOLLAAAAAAA!!!!
Kristine Lilleeeee, Estados Uneeeeeeedos!"

So, like so many Americans these days, I feel I should be compensated. I can’t sleep at night due to the lingering agitation. I can’t look at a soccer goal during the kids’ games without getting weepy. And frickin’ Andres is setting new records daily for holding onto the one-syllable GOL (Spanish spelling!) in my head.

But, I’m a huge fan of yours and your team, Kristine, so I’m willing to let the whole thing drop if you’ll bring the entire Women’s World Cup team to my house. It’ll be fun. We’ll drink bottled water and make bets on which team members can hit the satellite dishes of neighboring houses with soccer balls. My money is on Shannon "The Cannon" MacMillan.

And, if you came over, Kristine, it would give me a chance to give shout outs to warrior forward Abby Wambach who passed the ball to the mega-striking Mia "Female Elvis" Hamm who dished it to yourself (5-foot-4, 32 years old, 88 international goals, pride of Wilton, Conn. -- striking) for the one-timer. See, I got chills just now thinking about it.

There is the issue of where the satellite trucks will park and what I’d do with the 45,932 10-year-old girls who would descend on my house once they heard "MIA IS HERE." But we’d figure something out.

I even testified to your wonderment with my daughter’s 8-year-old soccer team during practice on Sept. 22 as they worked on kicking the ball as far as possible. For 8-year-old girls, that’s about 12 feet.

"Kristine Lilly," I said, "Smashed a shot into the net from 60 feet away. SIXTY FEET, and it was sa-weeeeet. GOOOOOOOOOOL, GOL-GOL-GOL. Estados Uneeeeeeedos."

The nine 8-year-old girls on the team looked at me like I was an odorous, unshaven stranger offering them unwrapped candy. A few of them actually edged away from me.

"SIXTY FEET," I repeated, sure that if the girls just comprehended the distance from which you had cranked it home they would suddenly share my excitement. If any of the 8-year-olds kicked the ball 60 feet I’d pass out on the sideline and wake up in an ambulance with a tube of ringers lactate in my arm.

Oh, it’s not all fanciful fun down here in the junior leagues, Kristine. It can be kind of brutal, what with parents constantly screwing up the game by pushing kids to win at an earlier and earlier age. By age 11 the "elite" teams are practicing four days a week.

"You gotta bring your war face."

"You gotta WANT IT MORE."

Blah, blah, blah. Lots of banging going on out there. Lots of "physical play."

I know you got all that going on in the World Cup. Anyone who thinks soccer is a non-contact sport has never watched a game. But the thing that makes the women’s World Cup team stand out is your motivation.

I know you’d prefer this wasn’t true, Kristine, but there’s no pot of gold at the end of the women’s soccer rainbow. Sure, Mia and a few others will score some huge endorsement deals. But for teammates like Siri Mullinix, Shannon Boxx, Jena Kluegel, Joy Fawcett, Aly Wagner -- probably 80 percent of the roster -- participating in the World Cup is likely as good as it gets.

No multi-billion pro deals. The women’s pro league, the WUSA, just folded, as a matter of fact. But even if it was still going strong, the best players could hope to make in the WUSA was about $50,000 per year. That’s entourage money for pro football players.

There are no LaBron James-level shoe or endorsement deals waiting at the end of the World Cup. I suspect that helps you focus on each minute of each game, since it will probably never get any better than this.

What really blows me away, Kristine, and what I try to draw my daughters’ attention to, is that you all appear to play the game because you love it, and because you love each other. Correct me if I’m wrong here, Lil.

Witness Brandi "Abs of Steel" Chastain, who scored the winning goal in the World Cup final in 1999, ripped off her jersey and then screamed, "I love you guys!" as the rest of you mobbed her.

I certainly wish you all could make $1 million a day off soccer, Kristine, but forgive me when I admit I’m kind of glad you don’t. Women’s sports remain largely free of the corrupting force of huge cash. Mongo dollars have already made every male pro sports league most about the benjamins and least about the love of the game and teammates.

The lack of almighty dollar worship in women’s sports also means I can afford to take my family of four to watch the local college women’s teams play. Going to a big-deal football game would cost me about $175, minimum. College women’s soccer, volleyball, basketball game? $40, max.

So please keep giving Mia those big hugs of thanks for the sweet assists, handing out those very high fives for 6-foot scoring weapon Cindy "CP" Parlow and giving those points and nods to my main defensive squeeze, Kate Sobrero.

Let me know when I can expect ya at the house. We’ll go to the park down the road and kick it around a little. It’ll be fun. Just promise not to hurt me. And, on behalf of millions of fathers of soccer girls, thanks for keeping it real on the field, Kristine. It’s all love, love, love out there. And you can’t do any better than that.

GOOOOOOOOOL!

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