It didn’t take long to get me hooked on soccer. One play did
it for me, as a matter of fact. The sequence is unforgettable—Rapinoe to
Wambach to Goooaaaaalllll!
That’s all it took.
Now, sure, I’m a late bloomer when it comes to footballing.
I still don’t understand the game fully. The whole idea of “tackling” is a
puzzle to me. Isn’t that essentially tripping your opponent? If so, isn’t that
just downright rude? I still don’t know how soccer players are able to overcome
the fear of getting kicked in the face. And you know that whole foot-eye
coordination thing? Yeah, I did not inherit that gene.
But, I digress.
Anyway, my newbie fan status shouldn’t render my fanaticism
moot. As a life-long Cubs fan, I know what it means to stick. I have not, nor
will I ever, abandon my teams, even in the wake of defeat. Thankfully, I happen
to be a fan of the US Women’s National Team, so abandonment in the wake of
defeat is not an issue. Yes, I said the US WNT. You know—the Olympic Gold
Medalists. That team. This same team brought women’s sports to the
international stage when they almost clinched the 2011 Women's World Cup.
While the loss was heartbreaking, the wins on the home front
were immense. Finally, the US got excited about women’s sports. Our young
female athletes now have adult athletes who look like them to look up to. Girls
do not have to file that dream of becoming an elite athlete under “G” for Glory
Days upon high school graduation. A lot of hard work, a little bit of luck and maybe they
can become the next Abby Wambach, Hope Solo or Christie Rampone.
After watching each match of the 2012 Summer Olympics, I was
drawn even further into this vortex of soccer/futbol. This was, in large part,
a major contributing factor to my post-Olympic withdrawal. So when the US WNT
came to Toyota Park, south of Chicago, on October 20th, I jumped at the chance to see
the team in action.
What an experience that was. The energy. The spirit. The
never-say-die resilience. And that was just the crowd. When the team took the
field for pre-game warm ups, we were all on the edge of our seats trying to get
a closer look at our world champions. This wasn’t easy to do from the second
level. During the anthems and team introductions, it was almost impossible to
distinguish each player from the other. (Sorry girls, but from that far up,
and facing your backs, y’all look the same to me.)
The only exception to this blurred sight for sore eyes was
Megan Rapinoe. That head of blonde, wild hair is unmistakable, even from a
distance. Everything I’ve read about Ms. Rapinoe suggests that she is one of
the best soccer players alive. The technical skill, intuition and the swagger
with which she carries herself on the field is unmatched to my rookie soccer
fan eye. As a bonus, all accounts point to her character being defined by wit, a sense of humor, good-natured
spirit and dedication to her team and fans. Sounds like good people to me.
Each player on the US WNT is remarkable, but Ms. Rapinoe
appears to be a leader on the field—nailing corner shots and landing crosses
squarely on the invisible bullseye on Abby Wambach’s forehead of steel. It is no wonder
that she was granted a spot on the Olympic team. We only send the best to these
games, right? We tell our teams to make us proud. We tell them that they
represent their country, and in turn, all the greatness therein. We tell them
that as the American Olympians, this greatness has been found in them.
Standing there with the rest of the crowd, my hand on my
heart as the National Anthem played; I could not help but think that the US was
spot on in picking the right women to represent our country. I thought, “Wow.
These girls deserve our utmost respect.” And then it dawned on me—Megan
Rapinoe, as a lesbian, has not been granted the same level of respect from
her country as she has shown us.
What a crock of bull.
Ms. Rapinoe has not been afforded the same rights and
protections that my husband and I have. We could have been married in any state
of the Union. She cannot. When my husband and I move across state lines, we do
not have to wait for the citizens of our new residence to validate our
marriage via ballot measure. As a heterosexual married couple, recognition and validation are a given.
Ms. Rapinoe would not be so lucky. Back up 16 some odd years, and let’s pretend
my betrothed and I decided we didn’t want to get married. We would have had the
privilege of making that decision and doing so because it is our choice—not
because some law said we couldn’t, or that views on straight marriage are still evolving.
If something should happen to either of us, God forbid, the
other would reserve the right to survivor benefits—and without penalty, too. In
the meantime, as spouses, we can add each other to our medical benefits to
prevent the God-forbidden occurrence of something happening. If we’d like to
adopt a child, the hoops to jump through would be immense, but not as immense
as those Ms. Rapinoe would face.
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| Megan Rapinoe perfects her seal impersonation at Toyota Park. |
Now, I will never be an Olympic champion. I’m an average
Jane Q. Public. My big patriotic contributions are voting and paying taxes. I
will never be sent by my country to be the face of the US with the instructions
to make my country proud. I will never have the flag draped around my shoulders
as I fall to my knees in tears after winning the Gold medal match. I will never
stand proudly, and respectfully, with my hand on my heart as the world watches
and my national anthem is played after the medal has been hung around my neck. I will never do all of that and then come
back to a country that does not show me the same level of respect as I have shown her.
But Megan Rapinoe has. And Megan Rapinoe deserves the same
rights as me.
She doesn’t deserve them because she is an elite athlete.
She doesn’t deserve them because she has a gold medal. She doesn’t deserve them
because she is witty, or a nice person, or a reportedly good friend and
teammate. And she definitely doesn’t deserve them because her hair has its own
twitter account.
Megan Rapinoe deserves the same rights as me for the pure
and simple reason that she, too, is an American. I think it is about time we
give them to her.