Sway

Women’s soccer in the US was a relatively short history, but a great and decorated one. Home to many of the “greats”, the USWNT had seen the rise and fall of many players that would be talked about for decades to come — the revolutionary few, the frontrunners, those who set the records, and those who broke them. Mia Hamm. Brandi Chastain. Michelle Akers. Christie Rampone. Abby Wambach. Hope Solo.

These were players who would go down in the history books for their goals, their saves, the World Cups they’d won, the gold medals they had. It was an honor to be mentioned in the same sentence as them. It would be an even greater honor to be lauded just as highly as them.

“Can you believe this, Ash?” Whit asked, her voice quiet. They were laying in their respective beds. Ashlyn was staring at the ceiling through the darkness and she suspected that Whitney was doing the same. It was nice, familiar. They hadn’t had a midnight roommate chat in such a long time. “We’re at the World Cup.”

“Together,” Ashlyn added. She let out a sigh and shifted under the covers, wrapping herself up more fully and allowing herself to sink further into the pillows.

The two of them had been on the wild ride of ups and downs, being called into camp and being left off of the roster, wheedling their way into the senior National Team the difficult, circuitous route. Thinking back further, Ashlyn couldn’t help but smile as she reflected on their days together at UNC. Whitney was always the ever-present, positive, responsible friend. Ashlyn was the rebel who made her come out of her shell. They had had their share of ups and down then, too — mostly because of Ashlyn. Still, they always pulled together in the end.

Together, they had conquered the world of college. Now, they would tackle the Women’s World Cup.

Ashlyn flipped back through the pages of her journal with mild amusement and maybe a little embarrassment on behalf of her younger self.

I’m going to try to get more playing time.

Did well in training today. Should be rewarded with some time.

I don’t understand why I couldn’t have started this game. Hope could’ve been knitting a sweater back there. Why does nobody trust me to do well?

Ashlyn knew that she wouldn’t get a chance to play before she even hopped on that flight to Canada. It was no slight against herself, but merely an observation rooted in hard fact. There was no way Hope would be kept out of a game. She couldn’t change the fact that Hope Solo had been born an American and had risen to become the best goalkeeper, maybe in the world. But Ashlyn also didn’t want to change that. She loved Hope, trusted her, and knew that, with Hope in between the posts, their team would have a great shot at winning.

Jill gathered everyone together for a team meeting once they’d landed. They were all still in their travel clothes — all sweatpants and sweatshirts. Moe’s hair was frizzy from her in-plane nap. Tobin was starting to kick off her shoes. Ali somehow looked amazingly good and her mascara wasn’t even a little smudged even though she’d fallen asleep on Ashlyn’s shoulder.

“Ladies, I just want to remind you that this World Cup will not be won easily,” Jill started. “It will be a hard fight no matter who we have to face to get to that final. No matter who we have to face in the final. But it will not be won solely by the starting XI, or the three subs. It will be won only with the hard work and dedication of all twenty-three players.” She looked around at all of them as individuals. Ashlyn shifted as Jill’s gaze fell to her.

“Each one of you has earned the right to be here. You have an important part in this journey and this fight, and I have complete trust in all of you that we will bring the trophy back with us.” There was a short pause as everyone took in her words before a cheer went up from all the players, led by Pinoe of course.

Jill had inspired a lot of warm, fuzzy feelings between the teammates as well as a hunger for the big win, but there was still a whole heck of a lot of fear to be felt amongst all of them. Already, the press was spewing off stories pitching that this was the year in which the US would get their redemption. The tournament had hardly started at all. They’d come into the tournament with that great pressure on their shoulders to succeed this time, but that didn’t make it any easier to handle. And then the criticism started pouring in in waves.

When one part of the team was criticized, the whole team felt it. Everyone was a bit on edge from the comments that flooded in from every which way. While the US’s defense was being lauded as the best in the women’s game, the offense was being torn apart. The fact was, the US forwards and midfielders weren’t connecting and they definitely weren’t scoring. Everything looked and felt a bit off. None of the attacking players felt very good about themselves.

“We’ve just got to keep our heads down and make it through,” Abby insisted in her speeches. “Push through. We’ll find that rhythm.”

So they continued fighting hard for their wins; waiting on that click.

For Ashlyn, things were less about the fight on the field and more about being the best teammate she could possibly be. The only spot she had locked down firmly was her butt on that bench, next to Whitney and Alyssa and HAO, so she was determined to be as supportive and helpful as she possibly could.

“I’ll be cheering for you,” Ashlyn promised Ali before each game, kissing the side of her head before she had to walk out with the rest of the subs. On the sideline, she held out water bottles for her teammates, but it was always Ali who gravitated towards her. They’d share a look and nothing more, but just seeing each other there served as a comfort to the both of them.

A light knock sounded on the door to her room before it was pushed open. Most of the doors on the team’s floor were kept propped open and people came and went as they pleased. Ashlyn looked up from her phone to see Ali. She was wearing compression tights and a t-shirt and her glasses were perched on her nose. Ashlyn brightened as she came in and made herself comfortable on Ashlyn’s bed.

“Hey, pretty,” Ashlyn said. “What’s up?”

“Just wanted to spend some time with you,” Ali replied. She rested her head on Ashlyn’s shoulder, draping her arm over her waist.

“How was your recovery session?”

“Good. The pool stuff felt really good. I’m all achey and old.”

“You’re not,” Ashlyn promised, kissing the top of Ali’s head.

“Have you been doing okay?” Ali propped herself up to look Ashlyn in the eyes. “I know we haven’t had a lot of time together. I wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Ashlyn replied honestly. She was missing Ali a little — they trained at different times and with different groups and they hadn’t slept in the same room in weeks — but she was doing alright. “Don’t worry about me, babe. You have to think about bringing the heat against Germany.”

Ali frowned a little. “You can still talk to me about anything you’re feeling, you know,” Ali said. “It’s not a distraction. If anything, I’ll get distracted worrying about whether you’re holding anything back from me.” Ashlyn moved to sit up against the headboard of the bed and beckoned for Ali to follow. She did, pressing her side against Ashlyn’s. “If you’re feeling down because of anything, we can talk about it.” Ashlyn knew what she was getting at.

“Honestly, I didn’t come into this tournament thinking I’d get on the field at all,” she said honestly. “I think I’d accepted that since the roster was released.” Ali didn’t look too convinced. “I’ve got a lot of other goals I want to work towards.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was thinking about what I want to leave behind, you know — a legacy of my career. Like, for example, you will be known for that amazing PK, your bravery for going to Germany to play…your bun.” Ali laughed a little against Ashlyn’s shoulder and she thought she could hear her mutter, “That damn bun!”

“What do you want to be remembered for?” Ali asked.

“Doing the best with what I’ve been given. Being a good person, a loyal friend and teammate. Making a real difference in the world and people’s lives. Maybe I won’t ever play in a World Cup game or an Olympics, but I’ve still got this opportunity — this platform — that I can use for good, you know? To get a message out there.”

“Ashlyn, thats…really, really beautiful.” Ali rewarded her with a gentle kiss.

“I guess what I didn’t realize when I was younger is that there’s no way I could control which direction my career would go. I can’t put myself in games. I can’t make coaches change their decisions. Sometimes even working my hardest still won’t ever be enough. But I can control what kind of person I am. I guess I’d like to be remembered for that.”

Ashlyn watched the semifinal game against Germany from the sideline, but she hardly sat in her seat. Every one of them on the bench jumped up and sat back down with each turn of the game, each call. Then Germany had earned that free kick, and everyone held their breath. Somehow, they had made it out of that game on top and, as soon as the whistle blew, everyone was out on the field to celebrate their entry into the final match against Japan.

“You did so good, baby,” Ashlyn said as she pulled Ali into a tight hug, hardly minding that Ali was soaked through with sweat. “You were owning that right side. Germany didn’t know what hit them.”

“Thanks, babe,” Ali replied. She was beaming. Ashlyn really was impressed; Ali had a great game. “Let’s go say hi to my old teammates?” Ali suggested and Ashlyn followed her across the field to greet Nadine and Dzsenifer.

“It’s this field again,” Ali murmured to Ashlyn in the locker room before the final game. Ashlyn had already finished dressing out and was hanging around Ali’s locker instead. She was sitting in her chair, her boots on but laces untied. A couple lockers down, Alex was curled in on herself, headphones on and eyes tightly shut. Everywhere, their teammates were practicing their pregame rituals with a new intensity that hadn’t been seen throughout the rest of the tournament. In the background, the top 40 pop that was being blasted through the speakers was drowned out by the thoughts in everyone’s heads.

“Don’t be afraid of it,” Ashlyn replied. She knelt down in front of Ali and rubbed her hands down her thighs. “It’s just a field, like any other field. You’re going to go out there and kick ass, just like you always have. And you’re going to be amazing.”

Ashlyn let her hands drift down to Ali’s right knee. Her white socks were already pulled up past the knee, but Ashlyn pulled it down gently, almost reverently, to reveal the faint white scar that ran down the middle. She traced the line with her thumb before leaning down to press a kiss to it. Ali gasped and when she looked up at her, her lip was wobbling slightly.

“Hey, you’re going to do so good, baby,” Ashlyn promised her. She pulled Ali’s sock back up and patted her leg again. Ali reached out to clasp her hand around the back of Ashlyn’s neck and bring her closer to her. She pressed a kiss to Ashlyn’s lips that lingered long after their lips parted. Eyes shut lightly, they breathed in each others’ breath. Ashlyn’s heart thumped. Normally they were never near that affectionate in the locker room, each of them preferring to get themselves focused before the game. But this day was different. Ali needed this.

“Thank you,” Ali whispered against her lips.

“Alright, you need to get your head on right, missy,” Ashlyn said with a slight grin. She pulled away, but their fingers found themselves entwined. “I’ll be cheering for you, remember.”

Ashlyn waited with bated breaths, toeing the white line as she waited for the seconds to tick up. On either side of her, Whitney, HAO, Alyssa, Lori, Syd, and the coaches were all doing the same thing. On the field in front of them, the US players were just trying to hold things down and keep their focus. The seconds ticked up and up.

And then finally, like trumpeting from heaven above, the final whistle rang out through the air and the screams grew louder and louder — chants of USA! USA! USA! over and over again. Ashlyn didn’t know where she was running to, but her feet would not stop. She yelled and pumped her fists in the air and crashed hard into her teammates as they formed a great group hug.

Laughing and yelling and clapping her hands to her teammates’ backs, Ashlyn turned and spotted Ali with Syd, wiping at her eyes. Her celebration was quiet, but all Ashlyn wanted to do was run around and scream. She pulled the both of them into a tight hug before going off to hug Graeme and the rest of their teammates and coaches.

The celebration afterwards was a whirlwind and she seemed to run circles around the field without actually doing a victory lap. The flags came out and waved from teammates’ hands and teammates’ backs and Ashlyn’s heart was filled with so much love and so much pride. In the midst of the crowd, she turned and saw Ali in front of her.

Lord, she looked beautiful like that, tired and sweaty from all the work she’d put in, but beaming from ear to ear. Tears still clung to the edges of her lashes. Ashlyn rushed to her, overwhelmed by the pride in her girl that was rushing over her. She reached out to cup Ali’s cheeks with her hands and felt Ali’s run up her chest, a familiar warmth.

And that’s where they stopped. All Ashlyn wanted to do was kiss her, but they were in the middle of a crowd of over 50,000 people. Cameras circled like vultures. Ashlyn found she could hardly even say anything. She was too overwhelmed.

“Ashlyn, I love you,” Ali mouthed at her.

“I love you, too,” she returned.

There was no joy like it. There was no feeling that could compare. They’d done it. They’d really done it, and Ashlyn had done it with some of the people she loved most. They all raised the trophy with a cry and danced to the tinny music piped in through the speakers, barely audible over the screaming crowd.

The trophy was a good, hefty weight. It was the kind of weight that made everything seem that much more real. She held onto it tightly as she and Ali walked around the field together, occasionally bumping shoulders together.

“I’m so proud of you,” Ashlyn said to her. “Look what great memories you have of this field now.”