By Ridge Mahoney, Senior Editor
A decade or so ago, they would have settled for recognition along with the competition. Soon enough came the acclaim and the attention. At some point during that time they were transformed into subjects of adulation and admiration.
Another chapter in the saga of American womenÆs soccer concludes tonight when the USA marks the final international appearances of Mia Hamm, Julie Foudy and Joy Fawcett by playing Mexico at Home Depot Center. Together, they have earned more than 700 caps, scored nearly 200 goals, and won two World Cups and two Olympic gold medals during careers that encompass more than half of their lives.
On hand will be families and friends and officials and VIPs and thousands of fans. Each has mirrored one of the personas imbued in the squad: Fawcett is the zealous worker and ultimate soccer mom; Foudy is the heart and soul and mouth; and Hamm is the icon, the symbol, the face of the team and tireless evangelist of a remarkable camaraderie.
It has been reshaped and revamped and reworked since winning the inaugural womenÆs world championship in 1991, and long ago it became a self-proclaimed sisterhood. Despite schisms with U.S. Soccer over contracts and bonuses and a dispute between veteran players and Coach April Heinrichs prior to the 2004 Olympics, the American women have bonded sufficiently to win four of the seven major championships contested since Æ91.
For more than a decade, as outstanding players like Michelle Akers, Carin Jennings, April Heinrichs, Shannon Higgins, Tisha Venturini, Carla Werden and Mary Harvey have retired, theyÆve been replaced by Abby Wambach, Cindy Parlow, Lindsay Tarplay, Heather OÆReilly, Shannon Boxx, Cat Reddick and Briana Scurry.
Hamm, Foudy and Fawcett have been through it all. Debutants in the mid-1980s, they are about to bow out, leaving only all-time caps leader Kristine Lilly (290) and defender Brandi Chastain as holdovers from Æ91.
Not every facet of this womenÆs movement has gone smoothly. There have been squabbles over player selection and style of play. Giddy with the packed stadiums and impressive TV ratings generated by the 1999 WomenÆs World Cup, investors plunged resources into the WomenÆs United Soccer Association, which collapsed in 2003 after three seasons and staggering financial losses.
Yet WUSAÆs demise did nothing to stem the fascination lavished on the womenÆs team. By winning with a conquering, swashbuckling style, by signing autographs by the thousands after playing games in dozens of American cities, and by being personable, articulate ambassadors, they punched home their messages of sacrifice and strength to the consciousness of a nation.
Roll your eyes if you will at the tales of love and friendship and trust and belief. You may not believe it, but they do. The pettiness and bitterness inevitable when ambitious athletes congregate dissipates at crunch time. They make it work.
Years ago came the mantra that the womenÆs game is more technical and tactical. Absurd and illogical: the game might appear more technical because it is slower, and ditto for the tactical.
By logic, then, Hamm would be more technical than Ronaldo, Foudy would be cleaner and sharper on the ball than Patrick Vieira, and Fawcett could tackle and move and jump and pass better than Paolo Maldini. And Jose Mourinho would be no match for Heinrichs.
Ask any player of either gender what is the severest adjustment to a tougher tier of play, and unanimously they cite speed of play and thought. Those players who retain their skills while withstanding more hardship in less time succeed; those who donÆt inevitably drop out.
But weighing the menÆs and womenÆs games against each other serves no purpose. They are similar, of course, being proscribed by the same rules, yet vastly different. If the menÆs game is faster, more athletic and spectacular, it is also more cynical and calculated.
Both sexes can play a fascinating fusion of the athletic and the cerebral, battles waged by disparate individuals within a collective. When Hamm hurdles a lunging defender or Landon Donovan jets away from a floundering tackler, when the U.S. midfield smothers an opposing attack and kicks its own into gear, when Abby Wambach or Brian McBride crashes a header into the net, the game is the same, only the details differ.
When the Æ91 team gathered at the White House the following year to be honored by President George H.W. Bush, he cited the players and staff and coaches as practitioners of a favorite American pastime: Winning.