Behind The Band.

Stockholm's Cherry Blossoms.

[THE PITCH] When I listen to a song on the way to practice, or a match, or just hanging out, I hardly ever contemplate the hours of hard work that went into making the music. I simply roll down the windows, turn up the volume, and cruise. Although there is a perceivable transformation in my disposition, it is driven by a blind devotion to attractive melodies. However, when I watch a live performance, in which the musicians, singers, instruments, and electronics blend before my eyes, the power emanating from the stage triggers a deep emotional reaction, as well as a greater appreciation for the art. Watching football is a lot like that… entertaining, exciting…emotional!  Franklin Foer, who wrote, How Soccer Explains the World said, “Soccer isn't the same as Bach or Buddhism. But it is often more deeply felt than religion, and just as much a part of the community's fabric...” I’ve always felt a link between music and football, but I really haven’t taken the time to try and connect the dots...

Two things sparked my exploration of the correlation between soccer and song… the first was an interview I had with Christian Brookes, whose blog covers both music and football. The resulting article, which I thoroughly enjoyed reading, can be found here. 

With my cousin Clark and my father.

Also, last week I met with my cousin Clark Gayton in Stockholm. (It’s always amazing to see someone close to me in this foreign, foreign land). Clark, a talented musician, is one year into a four-year world tour with Bruce Springsteen and was in town for a show. I appreciated chatting with my cousin about working with two superstars, (first Sting and now Bruce), as I’ve been fortunate to play with a few superstars myself. Our conversation was the second thing that really got me to thinking about the similarities and differences in great bands in music and great teams in football.

There are several similar qualities required for a successful band and a successful team: talent and skill, practice and dedication, tolerance for and management of a nomadic lifestyle, pursuit of harmony, and acceptance of the occasional sour note. Great music is considered Fine Art…and we call a well-played match, “The Beautiful Game.” Although there are some obvious differences (like the fact that I’ve yet to see the conductor sub-out a violinist because he was playing too slowly), one or two stand out the most to me. 

Clark told me that there is a major characteristic that Sting and Bruce have in common: super-sized EGOS. (Well, they don’t call the latter “The Boss” for nothing.) Both these mega stars dictate their bands as well as entertain their audiences. Rumor has it that The Boss has said, “I hate a @#$%! with an opinion.”  And, my dad claims to have witnessed Sting strutting around backstage after a show in L.A. wearing a silk smoking jacket with his nose in the air. The music industry is very much star driven. Great singers are center stage. Headliners are “the show” and everyone else is “back up.” In contrast, football is team driven. No matter how much football’s superstars—even Messi and Ronaldo—stand out, no matter how big the impact they have on the game, they never go “solo.”

In football, team captains are usually the inglorious center-backs who connect with the coach and orchestrate the team. Successful teams accept these reciprocal roles; as cooperation and a “team first” mentality are paramount to winning.

Ahhhh winning…that’s a big differentiating factor in music and football. Although often played in football stadiums, concerts are rarely competitive. As an athlete I have to admit, I love that part of the game…the chance to win! And as soundtracks go, I wouldn’t be the least bit opposed to hearing a tune like …We are the Champions playing after our final home match of Damallsvenskan!

[Stoppage Time] After our most recent 1-1 tie against Damallsvenskan newcomer Mallbackens IF, my teammate wrote on Twitter: “The war is long and you don’t win or lose until the end.”

It’s almost inevitable that during a 22 game season, every team will hit a little slump. It’s not so usual that that slump happens right in the beginning of the season. There is a good and bad side to this story. The bad side is: well, it’s really frustrating.

The good side is that the process of rebounding from these slumps is what builds team character. And for us to get that chance early on will be a clear advantage, in my opinion. It’s ironic that we’ve been struggling to play as a cohesive unit on the field, when I feel the team is quite in stride in every other way. We all feel it’s not good enough. We all are a little frustrated... with ourselves, and with the team. We all expect more.  And most importantly, we all trust it will get better. I have faith…and it’s better to sizzle like the Memphis Grizzlies than to fizzle like the LA Clippers.

Final Score:

TFF 1 – Mallbackens IF 1

[Off The Post!] My dad has an affinity for self-proclaimed nicknames. I have written before about how he has spent my 24 years of life trying to get me to call him Big Daddy… Well, during his most recent visitation, he was at it again. Big Daddy was all too excited for his visit to Sweden when he realized my Spanish roommates gave him an excuse to practice his insuppressible and excruciating Español. After failing to convince everyone that back home he is known, like Bruce Springsteen, as El Jefe… he switched gears and told them that his golf club members nicknamed him “The Fresh Prince” because he was the first African-American member of Bel Air Country Club. Little did he know that las Españolas had taken one look at him and immediately recalled the TV series… So, for my team here in Sweden, he will forever be known as “Felipe!”

RFL,

10. Games, Changes and Fears.

HoH Family Portrait.

[THE PITCH]

“Games, changes and fears

When will they go from here

When will they stop.”

Last year, when my family and I visited Stockholm during a break in the season, we made a point to see The Changing of The Guards at Sweden’s Palace in Gamla Stan. Official uniforms, a band, and synchronized movements are all a part of this ritual, celebrating national pride. A large crowd of tourists come together to, quite simply, watch the guards switch shifts. I’ve seen the Changing of the Guards in Oslo, Norway and London, England as well. It happens in many different countries throughout the world. And so it seems that I am not the only one to make a big deal out of change. To gain perspective (but mostly to make my case for being melodramatic) I have enlisted the wisdom of those far more astute than myself to play the role of provocateur.

TFF v Vittsjö

So many of my blogs have referred back to that moment when I decided to move to Sweden. In that instant, I changed my career path, relationships, and home. It seems to be the pivotal point in my life. After years of developing a style of play that I was both comfortable with and proud of, I was forced to change my style in order to fit a new role. Ugh!!! Noted neurologist, Viktor E. Frankl might argue, “When we are no longer able to change a situation - we are challenged to change ourselves.” Good point… While all that changing happened to me, something changed within me.  To find happiness in Sweden, I had to change my perspective. I’m not sure of which I am more proud: taking the leap or growing the wings.

And then, I changed teams again. New job…Bang…New relationships…Bam…New home…Boom! One might think that after I’d garnered all the benefits of change so many times before, the process would get easier. But it isn’t. I continue to miss. I continue to resist. “Change does not roll in on the wheels of inevitability, but comes through continuous struggle.” You’re right, Dr. King so I better stay tough.

TFF @ HoH

My head coach Tony has made a point to tell me that he doesn’t want to cut off my edges to fit me into the team. “No need to change you,” he says, “we can find you in our system.” Hmm… But with these new players, this new system, and a totally different style around me, I’ve started to see the steadfast truth in life: “Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time. We are the ones we've been waiting for. We are the change that we seek.” Truth President Obama! If I am going to grow, I have to change.

No, I’m not saying that I have to force this “square peg” into a circle,—getting away from my strengths as a player—would be a mess. But I am not opposed to a little nip and tuck…here and there. (I am an LA girl after all!!) They say that football is a game of inches, and the small adjustments in timing and positioning transform the game entirely. If so, then maybe my role last year and my role this year are not so far apart…or perhaps they are colossally different.

In the past, it seemed as if change was something that happened to me. I, in turn, had to change to survive. But now as I look toward the season ahead of me, I can make the choices myself. I can choose to change; I can, for the first time, actively seek out the adjustments that will allow me to thrive. As of now, I don’t know much for certain: not what these changes will look like or when I will make them. But to that end, I think I’ll just let Winston Churchill have the last word here. “To improve is to change; to be perfect is to change often.”

[Stoppage Time] The season is underway. It feels good to be in the swing of things. Preseason is long, hard, and here in Sweden…a liiiitle bit chilly. We are the favored team to win the league. So, automatically, that makes things ten times harder. We are the only team to have three wins in our first three games. But all three games were …well… hard.

To finish at the top of the table, we are going to have to find all sorts of different ways to win games. Our last two games are prime examples.

After squeaking out a 1-0 premier win against Umeå, we traveled down to Vittsjö. We played the game against, (arguably) Damallsvenskan’s most physical team, on (arguably) the worst grass I’ve played on in quite some time. In light of the pitch conditions and to minimize the risk of “bad field bad luck,” we changed our game plan to a very direct style, similar to how our opponents played. Our 2-0 win meant more to us than the box score, however, because we had to step outside ourselves to beat them at their own game.

And, then, this past weekend at home in our game versus Linköping, it was one of those games…one of those games… where you are playing really well, but can’t score. One of those games… where you are doing everything right… but can’t score.

Just moments before the end of the match, when the emotions of the game started to swell up in the stadium, I let out a deep breath and tried to remind myself, for the 1000^th time, that I was sure that we were going to score. A teammate looked over to me and said, “you’re going to have one more chance” but I could see in her eyes she meant, “you’re going to score.” While the media would comment about another close game for a team that, perhaps, should be winning by larger margins (c/o Google translate and their oh-so-doubtful intonations,) the steadfast faith demonstrated by my teammates seems remarkable to me.

To remain unwaveringly confident when you’re playing against a strong opponent is no easy feat. To remain calm all the way into the final minutes of a match in spite of all of the pressure and expectations is no simple task. To ignore the soft whispers of self-doubt that grow louder as every scoreless minute passes is something of which we can be quite proud. And to score in the 88^th and 91^st minutes, snatching all three points… well that’s just fun!

Highlights here.

[Off The Post!] #ThatAwkwardMoment on the field when…

@knowles1313: getting sniped, missing the ball, and getting a turf burn on my face... see picture (i'm in white) http://bit.ly/107XjKo

@CaitlinKyaw: scored a goal and went to hug my teammate, and both of us didn't know which way to face, and ended up kissing. Awk

@rootchino: Broken thumb, had a metal splint. Ref tied 2 big shinpads on my hand. Ran around for 90mins with a giant ghetto oven mitt :(

@dquicky: tried2 intercept a pass, foot rolled on top of th ball n i smacked myslf in th face wth my own knee, tried callin 4 a foul...

@megkuch: getting caught off sides 14 times in one game #notpayingattention #oops

@joenooft: scored my 1st career goal as sweeper the proceeded to high knee/sprint back to my spot arms in the air, holding up duces.

@suth: I was about 4 years old. While taking a breather I ended up standing in fire ants. Coaches had to strip me down on the field.

-only because I picture this happening to max. and then him running around naked.

@ANNA_gram: Corner kicks gone wrong (I'm in white) http://bit.ly/ZDvhdh

RFL, 

Body Language.

[THE PITCH] “And don’t underestimate the importance of body language.” –Ursula, from The Little Mermaid

In Offenbach, Germany, a 16,000 standing-room-only crowd roared so loudly in the echo-intense arena that those of us sitting inches apart on the bench could hardly converse. The 22 American and German players on the pitch stood no chance at communicating at all. Four days later, Holland’s Kyocera Stadium was filled  with an orange sea of 8,000 enthusiastic fans partaking in a spontaneous wave so strong, I seriously wondered why the Dutch had not yet abandoned the use of windmills for energy... Needless to say, my 90-minute in-game conversation with myself was completely unheard, as well as all of my other attempts at communication with my teammates: calling for the ball, setting the press, cheering…

Back at the HOH...

Jenni is here. Tyreso's newest acquisition and Spanish international finds herself between a rock and a hard place as she speaks neither Swedish nor English. So, for the time being, Meghan Klingenberg (my fellow American companion, housemate, and USWNT + Tyresö teammate, more popularly known as Kling) and I speak English and some Spanish. Vero speaks Spanish and some English and we all smile awkwardly and point a lot....trying to communicate. 

Acclaimed management consultant Peter Drucker says, "The most important thing in communication is hearing what isn't said." Ironically, for me, this rings louder and truer everyday as I often find the most expedient form of communicating is body language. 

Minutes before the start of the game vs. the Netherlands, Heather O’Reilley ran over to me amid the noisy stadium. She had to shout for me to hear her, making her point that much more clear. She said something to the extent of… in a stadium where we can’t hear any verbal communication, the way we carry ourselves becomes that much more important. As strikers, the rest of the team will be looking toward you throughout the game, and it’s imperative to exude energy, positivity, and good body language for the rest of the team to feed off.

I've gotten used to reading players' body language and waiting for their cues on the field. In fact, forwards spend the whole game deciphering codes based on teammates approach and set up to the ball to determine when and where to make runs. But now, since playing for both Tyresö FF and the US, I’ve noticed that the player on the ball often waits for me to signal them where to pass the ball. So I have to keep that in mind. While I'm reading them, they are reading me! It is a fluid exchange of signals that neither starts nor ends with the match.

There is a whole series of nonverbal cues before the game: tons of energy is created through the exchange of high fives, pregame dancing, and smiles. Sometimes the pre-game music plays so loudly the inevitable sing-a-long is drowned out completely (and in my case that's a good thing!!), so all that's left is an amped up scene of hearts pounding and fists pumping.

In time we become, though sometimes subconsciously, aware of one another's manners, styles, and cues. For example, Kling has a unique cross that very unexpectedly bends speedily behind the defensive line. As a forward running into the box, I wouldn't know to run in front of the defender to the near post or fill the space in behind unless I could read her body language. Her approach before playing this ball is atypical, which makes it deceptive for both the defender and the other attackers, but now I’ve learned her "tell" and can react before she kicks the ball. Every time we train, I become more fluent in our only universal dialect: body language.

On the other hand, we quite consciously try to crack our opponent's body language codes, which can make our job easier in the match. For example, defenders use their body with the intent of dictating what you do with the ball. It is the job of an attacker to pick up on that body code and exploit it to your advantage. You can do exactly what they don’t want you to do, forcing them to readjust and possibly gaining that invaluable extra second, orrrr not. I’ve noticed that if a defender “gives” Marta one side, she explodes past them right through it...hmmm...how do you say "See ya sucker!" in Portuguese? 

I am happy to report that communications are improving all around. Right before our first game in Damallsvenskan, I made a point of trying to encourage our new teammate and friend. So, in slightly botched Spanish, I asked Jenni how she was feeling. Un poco nerviosa. I tried to tell her not to feel alone on the field and that we are all in this together. We ended up laughing at my misused cognate, but her thumbs up let me know she got my intent. After the match—a win and a great premier—she ran over to me and gave me a big hug and a smile. I couldn't help but smile too. Message sent...message received.

USWNT 3 – Germany 3

Highlights

USWNT 3 – Holland 1

Highlights

Tyresö FF 1 – Umeå IK 0

Highlights

RFL,

Invictus

Invictus

By Willian Earnest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the Pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find, my unafraid.

It matters not how straight the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll.

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

6. X.

[THE PITCH] The past two weeks marked the Quarter Finals of UEFA Women’s Champion’s League. Due to weather issues, the Swedish league season runs opposite to the central European leagues, starting in spring and ending in the fall. Which means that to qualify for Champions League you have to place in Damallsvenskan 9months before the tournament begins. In order to play out a Champion’s League season with a Swedish team, you have to sign for two seasons. Switching clubs last winter meant missing out on the CL quarter final this spring. So, over the past two Thursdays, I watched from my couch as Malmö and Göteborg, my rival and former club, took on their French opponents in the biggest club soccer tournament in the world.

Playing about 30 games with Göteborg last year and four times against Malmö (as well as watching the latter on TV several times), I feel quite familiar with the level of play of which these teams are capable when at their best and, also, when they are not at their best. And, while I know that the usual elements of travel, the away crowds, and playing on a grass fields put both Swedish teams at a disadvantage for the first leg, there seemed to be something more missing from their play both away and at home.

While I can’t put my finger on exactly what was missing, I could see it in the timing of their passing. It’s hard to describe precisely what went wrong, but I could feel it as I observed the familiar Swedish faces.

To put it simply, it appeared that neither Swedish team looked “played in.” Some may argue that Lyon is the top women’s club in the world because of the talented roster afforded by a considerable financial advantage in the club.

While of course, individual talent and economic benefit are huge components contributing to the team’s success (did I hear something about 100 game no-losing streak?), there is something more to the story here. Lyon’s cohesiveness and singular mindset, or “x” factor, give them the true edge. If a team is a sum of the individual players’ ability then, the addition of the “x” factor puts the beauty in the beautiful game for the fans, and the play in the game for the players. The presence of the “x” factor differentiates a great team from merely a team of great players. Like the sixth man in basketball, this variable is often the deciding force in the outcome of games as well. So, where can I find this “x”? 

In the case of Lyon, the majority of the team plays together on the national team and a large number have been a part of Les Lyonnaises for years. Unlike many women’s soccer environments today, the club is stable and established, so the players do not have to live with a lingering fear of instantaneous disintegration a la WUSA/ WPS. That being the case, players and the staff certainly know each other, and they understand each other’s goals and football philosophies. With that valuable information, they are better able to make each other look good.

On the other hand, both the Swedish teams were playing with significant roster changes for the new season and on a two-month ‘training-only’ preparation for these important CL matches. And in the case of Gothenburg v Juvisy, a match up of arguably equal rosters and resources, the more cohesive, unified, organized side won.

As the season progresses with matches and trainings, teams fight together, celebrate triumphs big and small, and commiserate failures both minor and colossal. With each training session, players learn their teammates’ tendencies, triggers, signals, weaknesses and preferences. As a result, the teams that have been together longer exhibit more confidence and are more consistent.

The benefits from this type of bonding has the potential for providing even more benefits. Research studies using virtual reality have demonstrated that mother’s can run faster/ jump higher when trying to save their babies compared to when they simply put forward their ‘personal best effort.’ The same phenomenon can be found in football too. I’ve noticed that players seem to move faster and work harder when they know their teammates are counting on them. A simple example of this can be found in training for fitness tests. No matter how many times I ran the “beep test” alone in preparation for preseason, I always ran it better with my teammates at my side. Yes, perhaps it was the heat of a little inter-squad competition, or perhaps it was something else: the feeling that when your goals include more than just yourself, you can be bigger than yourself, too. And through the mutual and consistent flow of blood, sweat, and tears...a team of reckoning is born. .

Taking things one step further, playing on a team of players that you know well and know you well creates a unique and advantageous training environment. This atmosphere can cause the most successful moves in a game can become the least successful moves in training. As your teammates learn your style and moves, it becomes increasingly more difficult to wield those “bread and butter” techniques and tactics during training sessions. Individual predictability is a game killer. You must learn that counter move and push yourself that much further to excel. Therefore, through training with familiar players, the individual’s arsenal is forced to expand and the player, quite naturally, grows.

When it is all said and done, the bigger the stakes, the bigger advantage a seasoned team has over their opponent. Knowing your teammates well is like getting the answers the night before the test: it is easier to stay one step ahead of the play, read the game faster and make moves more quickly. I mention these factors, as an observer from the outside looking in, not as excuses for the results in the CL Quarter Finals.

As the semi-finals edge nearer and nearer for the 4 remaining teams, Tyreso’ opportunity to play for this title sits idly. The start of the 2014 CL is months away in the fall. And, perhaps, even in those early rounds, we will possess the “factor” we might lack today.  The time spent waiting… just might be exactly what we need to prepare for this championship. Suddenly, it is clear…every touch, pass, sprint, every match, every practice, and every meeting… we have an end goal, and I, a sense of restored purpose.

RFL,