Dear Pinoe,
I was there on Saturday in Snapdragon Stadium. My wife, son, and I had come to see one of the greats' last game. We sat in stunned silence as you were carried off the field after just a few minutes. Then we cried when we realized that was it. Your career was over.
Hell, I cried before the game when a random content creator came up to me to ask about the significance of you and Ali playing each other in what would be your last professional soccer games. Two queer women. Two world cups each. One final between two unlikely teams. Both retiring. I couldn't really get the words out during the interview. My wife was making fun of me for getting emotional.
But it IS emotional. You changed how I see myself. How I relate to sports. You helped me find a community, an identity. How do you say goodbye to that?
Well, the script was certainly scripting. And instead of a long, heartfelt goodbye. We were left with the brutal reality of sport. There was no classic big-game Pinoe brilliance like we had seen so many times before, just an injury a few minutes into your last game. It's fucked up. But also sort of fitting? A brash ending for a brash athlete.
Remember when you said, "I'm not going to the fucking White House."
Remember the cross to Abby? THE cross?!?!
You weren't out then, but, like, we knew.
We. Knew. Two queer women making an absolutely incredible play when it mattered most. Two women with short, gay ass hair (who were dating each other at the time?! Does it get any gayer than that?).
It was 2011. There were basically zero out professional athletes (we see you Abby 👀). There weren't many out celebrities. Gay marriage was not legal. Don't ask, don't tell was still a thing. So for two gay women to have such a heroic moment for their country? It matters.
To hear straight peers, friends, and family discuss that moment and the two of you by extension with such reverence and awe. It was cathartic. It was safe.
No one cares if you're gay if you do epic shit.
But you are gay. Like, gayyyy gay. And once you came out, you never hid that.
Being gay, particularly early on, can feel so lonely sometimes. You are often discovering yourself- who you are and what you want- completely on your own. You might be afraid to confide in the people around you. You might feel they can't relate. So sometimes you turn to people you don't know for comfort. People like a soccer player, who publicly comes out, and then a few weeks later- scores the first Olimpico in Olympics history.
To know that Megan Rapinoe existed. That she was so good at her craft. She was outspoken and unapologetic. She made the world feel a little smaller and a little safer.
Remember 2019? Just, like, that whole year? Golden Boot. Golden Ball. Gladiator pose. Ballon d'or. Bud Light in the locker room. Insta stories --- a mile long. Ticker tape parade. All in pink hair. 👩🎤
Remember when you missed your penalty? At the freaking World Cup. A lot of people thought you shouldn't be there. You were too old. That we needed a changing of the guard. Maybe they were right. But this was your first penalty miss in five years. Like your final exit in Snapdragon, this was a reminder that sports can be cruel.
As much as 2019 was a romp, 2023 was a slog. Frustration and heartbreak wrapped into one tournament. As someone who was enraptured with both the 2015 and 2019 runs, I was in disbelief during that tournament. We don't lose. How is this happening? I've been watching the USWNT since the 99ers. While we don't always win, we don't lose like that. So cruelly, and so early in a tournament. It just didn't fit with the story of this program. As a fan, it was hard to reconcile. Simultaneously upset we didn't play our best- disbelief at the outcome (still staring at the picture of the goal line)- just generally pissed we lost- and having to say a final goodbye to "my" generation of players. You, Alex, Becky, Syd, Alyssa, Kelley, Tobin, Christen, Ali. The Gals.
Not all of you were there, but you represented the team my generation fell in love with. This was it. Your time was officially over now. We were never going to see any of you at a major tournament again. We had to learn new names. New faces. New stories. New ponytails on the pitch.
Remember when you knelt?
Remember when you fucking knelt?
It was September, 2016. Reign vs Red Stars. No other professional athlete had been in solidarity with Kaepernick at that point. But along came Megan. Gay Megan. Kneeling in solidarity.
Three days later, the Spirit moved the national anthem to before the players took the field. How typical of a man to try to shut a woman up. Then you knelt in your USWNT jersey. They really did not like that: Jill did not like that. You were left off the SheBelieves roster for "fitness" reasons. Then they passed a kneeling ban.
A national sporting institution banning something that one person was doing. You did that. You pissed them off so much they implemented a policy. Did you ever just revel in your power?
Remember equal pay? You sued your employers right before you started a tournament that is the pinnacle of your sport. That's bonkers. Like, really really batshit. It wasn't even the first time you had sued them! But this time, there were 28 of you. And you were on soccer's biggest stage. You shut all the haters up in spectacular fashion.
Imagine if the USMNT scored 13 goals against an opponent? Not a single story would have been about it if it was "too much." No one would question Landon Donovan doing a tea celebration or Clint Dempsey a gladiator pose. You went out and did what you do best. You played great soccer and you won. All the things. With really gay and really pink hair.
So, how do you say goodbye to Megan Rapinoe
You don't.
You take your son to the NWSL Championship. And a lot of other women's sports events. So he values Marta as much as Messi. A'ja as much as Lebron.
You stand up for trans kids in sports.
You don't shut up about equal pay.
You keep watching.
And you always remember that you can't win a championship without gays on your team. Because that's just science.
Thank you for being you, Pinoe.
Love,
Natalie