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At The Moth, we're using the power of storytelling to connect teachers with their students. Once a student develops their story and voice, they can show up more authentically in the classroom, their relationships, and beyond. Which is why we developed The Moth Teacher Institute, an annual conference that brings together educators who want to use The Moth storytelling techniques in their classrooms and communities. The programming features live storytelling, panel discussions, and hands-on workshops to help find, shape, and tell your own true personal stories. To learn more and apply, visit themoth.org slash edu.

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Hi there, and welcome to The Moth. I'm Tierna Davidson. I'm a soccer player for the U.S. Women's National Team and Gotham FC. I'm a World Cup winner and Olympic gold medalist. And today, I'm hosting this episode of The Moth Podcast. And I'm actually hosting from our national team training camp. So if you hear any shouts or whistles in the background, that's why. With the Men's World Cup in full swing, we wanted to celebrate the shared excitement, the feeling that so many people are invested in one long cross, one sliding tackle, one bicycle kick. That's actually one of my favorite parts about soccer, that it's so global. Whether it's through your club team or playing in international tournaments, you gain so many people in your corner from all over the world. And when you have a World Cup, you get that really intense national rivalry, but you also get this passionate feeling of solidarity because a World Cup only happens once every four years. As a fan, you wait and anticipate it for what feels like forever. And as a player, you prepare for it for so long, so you get that camaraderie and shared experience across teams. So to celebrate this special moment, we're sharing three stories about soccer, but about everything around soccer too. The competition, the sense of community, and the feeling of discovery you get when you push yourself. Our first storyteller is Patrick McGraw, who told this at a Twin Cities story slam where the theme was pride. Just as a note in the story, Patrick quotes a homophobic slur that was directed at him. Here's Patrick, live at the Moth.

My relationship with sports is a fairly typical one for an effeminate kid growing up in the 70s and 80s. Short story, I grew to hate them. And being a painfully shy kid didn't make things easier. The first time I was called a faggot was in fifth grade. It was because of how I walk and talk. So gender policing at its finest. When I went to junior high I almost instantly stopped eating in the cafeteria because it was just easier for me to eat alone by my locker than navigate so many people.

But my locker in seventh grade was just down the hall from the gym. And the tenth grade boys, their gym class ended during my lunch period. They had to wait in this long hallway of the locker room behind the door until the bell rang. But one day a few of them crossed the threshold. They grabbed a fire extinguisher and started spraying me with it, calling me a faggot. To me these were the people who played sports, so why would I want to play sports with them? I quit tennis, I stopped golfing. Football was a non-starter. Later when I came out, sports would creep back into my life. Running in my 20s, hiking in my 30s, but these were things I could do on my own. Team sports, they didn't re-enter my horizon until I moved to Portland in my 40s. The cafe I used to go to to read played all the European soccer matches. And after months of sitting amongst the fans as they watched their favorite teams, I got addicted. And then the strangest feeling, I wanted to play. So I bought a soccer ball. Instinctively, I made soccer a solo sport. I used to go down to the garage of my building early in the morning when no one could see me to kick the ball around. So at this point, I'm still shy, hardly butch, and incredibly insecure. And now to boot, I discover I have no coordination, and I flinch. Even just kicking the ball against the wall, so my own kick. As it came back to me, I flinched. Meanwhile, I had started going to the Portland Timbers soccer matches, And during one game, after a spectacular goal I turned to the stranger next to me To give him a high five I had never initiated a high five in my life I took that as a sign that I was ready to join a team So I set about to find a club That would welcome me as I am A middle-aged man, overweight Who's never played soccer and flinches when the ball comes towards him. So I decided on the Netreppers, an inclusive soccer club, because, one, they were unlikely to call me a faggot, and two, their website said they welcomed everyone of all abilities. So I secretly scouted them out first, casually riding my bike past one of their practices. Men and women of all ages were playing, but they all looked too good. So I emailed the team asking if they really welcomed everyone, even beginners who had never played. Instantly I got messages back to reassure me that they

did. So with butterflies in my stomach I went to my first practice. One of the players hearing that I had never played before took me aside to show me some of the very basics before we joined everyone else in the drills. And then the second half was a scrimmage. My first time playing a game. They put me in as defender the big guy who probably can't run I wanted to yell didn't they tell you I flinch but they discovered that on their own pretty quick and I whiffed how do you miss a soccer ball and half the time it was stationary and I got winded just running onto the pitch. But I also took a ball to the chest, blocking a cross shot, and I sent a forward flying to the ground just by leaning slightly. That was advice from my fellow defender. He said, you're a big guy. They're going to bounce right off you. And they did. after a practice I thanked the captain and said my goodbyes and to me he said great job today, we'll see you next week he was talking to me I was so ecstatic as I biked away already looking forward to next week's practice only later did it dawn on me this was an experience I deserved decades earlier thank you

That was Patrick McGraw. Patrick is a writer and editor living back in Minnesota, where he grew up. Patrick is a former wild goose chase clogger. If you're wondering, that's Appalachian-style dancer and a current birder. What stood out in Patrick's... story is how starkly different the experience of queerness and community is across women's and men's sports. Women's sports have historically functioned as one of the safest harbors for queer people. And that's held true in women's soccer specifically. It's something I've lived. Soccer is where I found my people, where I felt genuinely welcomed, and ultimately where I met my wife. So when I hear stories like Patrick's, they resonate in a real way. It's been a space where people can explore their identity and show up as themselves, whether they're competing at the highest level or just playing in a Sunday rec league. There's something almost organic about that. Soccer is a sport built on freedom, on creativity and self-expression, and the license to develop your own identity within the game. The culture and the sport reinforce each other in a way that feels rare. Our next story is from Monique Van Reynen, who told this at an Ann Arbor a story slam where the theme was go team. Here's Monique live at the mall. My first love was

soccer. I did not really have a chance to love anything else because my dad came to the US from the Netherlands to play soccer and so it was in my blood and I was really excited when I made varsity my freshman year in high school. I worked my ass off because I wasn't the biggest, I wasn't the strongest, but I was the fastest, and I had a killer left foot. And so I was really excited, and first couple games, I got off the bench, I got onto the field, and I played, and started a couple games when we played some of the weaker teams, and had a really solid start. So my sophomore year, my goal was that I was going to be starting on that field every single game. I did all the summer workouts, went through the tryouts, breezed through it, and we get into the season. I was fast. I had good foot skills. I was by far the smallest girl on the field, and so I wasn't quite the toughest, and oftentimes if it was a bigger girl that was marked up against me, she could push past, and I'd lose the ball. My coach was kind of tough, and she didn't like that I was getting knocked around. And so she told me, Mo, you've got to get mean. You've got to knock them around back. And I thought, I don't know how to do this when girls are twice my size, but sure, okay. And she threatened me. She said, I'll bench you if you don't foul a girl in the first five minutes. I'm pulling you out. I'm not someone who would go in for, sure, I've thrown a couple elbows. Who hasn't? You pull a shirt every once in a while. You know, you slide a little late. But I wasn't going in there to go take other people out. That wasn't really how I played. And some of the other girls were just kind of scary. Usually I was afraid that if I hit someone, they'd hit harder. But I got nervous because my coach was true to her word, that if I didn't hit someone and get a whistle, I saw my sub on the center line, and I thought, well, shit, now I have to sit the rest of the game. And the thing I hated most was sitting. And so I tried really hard. I would sit there anxious if I didn't get a chance to throw, like, a subtle foul in the first five minutes. And I'd see my subs start warming up, so I'd just go over and shove a girl. Because I wanted to stay in. And my nickname went from Mo to Mellow Yellow, because I got a lot of yellow cards doing that. And it got to the point where my dad pulled me aside, and he was never my coach, but he had such a love, an eye for the game, and he said, what the fuck are you doing? I said, Dad, I just want to play. That's all I want to do, and if I got to foul a girl, I'm staying on the field. Well, it got to the point where that wasn't enough, and I got benched anyway, and I was really frustrated. So I was especially excited when word came out

that our coach was transferring to another school because she thought our team, quote, wasn't going anywhere. Caused a lot of drama, so it was especially exciting when we made it to the semi-finals of the state tournament and we were playing her team. It was a really scrappy game because she taught all of her girls to play mean. They're sitting there, they're kicking at shins, they're pulling shirts, there are girls that are getting kicked out of the game left and right and for my team too because we'd also been trained to be mean. And so it's down to the final moments of the game, we've got probably 15 minutes left and it's tight. It's tied. Tensions are high. Nerves are high. And I get the ball. And I know that this girl that is at least twice my size and has been knocking me around all game, that if I get one touch past her, I'm gone. And so I get the ball, do a little fancy footwork, and I lose her. And I'm booking it down the field. I'm cutting in towards center. I know I can go for goal. I'm bypassing the forward who's calling for the ball.

because this is my moment. And I get taken out from behind by this damn girl who's chasing me, right in the middle of the penalty box. I don't like penalty kicks, because that's a lot of pressure. And it's a lot of pressure when it's down to the wire in the semifinal game, and it's that bitch of a coach who's been benching you all season. So I go up there. My heart's beating a mile a minute. I set the ball down on the marker. And I'm watching the keeper, and she's jumping around on the line. I can hear people yelling, I see my dad in the bleachers, and I know that if I miss a penalty kick, it's going to be bad at home. It's going to be bad with my team too, but I go up there, and I see that coach, and I see that damn smirk on her face. And I can think of her just telling me, you're not mean. You're not mean enough. You're not mean enough to play. And I took that ball, I ran back, and I buried that ball so far into that corner of that goal. And then we lost the game because they got the ball back and they scored. So that was disappointing, but afterwards, it didn't matter to me because that ball was in the back of that net. And because I was sportsmanlike and I wasn't mean, we went up and we shook hands with everyone afterwards and I went up to that coach and I shook her hands. And she goes, Mo, that was an okay game. And after that, we did go on to win the state championship the next year, so that was good. But I never played mean, but I always played to win.

Thanks.

That was Monique Van Reynen. Monique is a PhD candidate studying anthropology at the University of Michigan. She played soccer competitively for 20 years before trading her cleats in for running shoes. Monique comes from a long line of Dutch footballers and roots for the Orange during the World Cup. What resonated in Monique's story was that tension between embracing who you are as a player and deliberately expanding your game. At the elite level, you're surrounded by exceptional talent, but there's a pull to match everyone in every facet. But eventually you recognize that the player who dominates in one area is usually making trade-offs somewhere else. The real question then becomes, How do you lean into what makes you special while adding enough to complement it? With a lot of the elite athletes that I come across, there is this insatiable desire to be excellent. For example, my U.S. and Gotham teammate Emily Sonnet and I always talk about how, as defenders, we are so passionate about passing the ball to attackers. And that is truly my passion. I love feeding the ball to the machines. Let me give the ball to Megan Rapinoe. Let me give the ball to Rose Lavelle. Let me give the ball to Sophia Smith. I desperately want them with the ball at their feet because I know something great will come of it. Developing that part of my game took years. Growing up, I played slightly further up the field as a defensive midfielder or a six in soccer terms. My club coach was Spanish and he ran real film sessions with us. We had a dad on our team who would tape our games on a camcorder and we'd sit down, watch and do homework on ourselves. Our coach showed us a lot of Barcelona, so we were growing up studying the likes of Sergio Busquets, Andres Iniesta, Carlos Pio. You start to internalize things. Reading space, checking your shoulder, the weight of a pass, first and second touches, the details. And that's part of what makes soccer so compelling. The small things, the quiet work, and how far it can carry you. Maybe all the way to a World Cup. After the break, a story about getting excited for the World Cup from the perspective of a fan. Back in a moment.

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This summer, Prime Video takes you back before Legally Blonde, before law school, and into the world of Elle Woods in high school. Set in 1995, this Gemini vegetarian knows exactly who she is, until her family moves from Bel Air to Seattle. Packed with iconic fashion, 90s nostalgia, and a throwback soundtrack, Elle proves one thing — law school was hard, high school was harder. From the world of Legally Blonde, watch Elle, a new original series only on Prime Video July 1st. Welcome back. Our final

Anno's story is about the World Cup itself. It's from Franco Catalano, who told this story at a Milwaukee Story Slam, where the theme was vices. Here's Franco, live at the Moth. In Argentina, soccer is a religion. When the match plays, no one already speaks, aside from the broadcaster, as mass has just begun. It doesn't understand logic, and we are very superstitious about it. We sit in the same spot on the couch, wearing the same clothes. We used last time the national team won as lucky charms, just so we don't jinx it. But not me. Don't get me wrong. I love the sport, but I hate the feeling of excitement that comes with it, especially during the World Cup, where for one month, my dear hometown of Buenos Aires falls victim to the opium of the masses that is soccer. But this World Cup 2022, it's different for me because it's the first time I will not watch it in Buenos Aires, but actually in the city of Chicago. And I cannot be happier because I will not be a victim of the excitement because, let's be honest, you don't give a fudge about soccer. so the first match of argentina and the group stage is against saudi arabia on november 22 2022 surprisingly argentina loses that match and i get to know this in the newspaper because i was sleeping while the match was going on because i mean it was 5 a.m in the morning what i am supposed to say to my boss if i watch the match and they go to work looking like that like oh sorry i look Like, crap, I got the fever, the workout fever. I mean, I'm really glad that I'm not in Argentina right now because a loss like this makes everybody go moody or crazy or crazy moody. But case in point, I talk to a friend and I tell him I didn't watch the match. First thing he tells me, oh, then that's why we lost. Because you didn't watch the match. Don't you ever think about not watching another Argentinian match during the World Cup? He's one of five different persons that give me the same speech, which makes me think, hold on, what is this crazy moon talk? Are you implying that Messi plays like crap because somehow he knows I'm not watching him play? But I still love the sport, so during the next two matches against Mexico and Poland, as they occur in a normal hour, I watch them. And even though a loss means that Argentina is getting kicked out of the World Cup, the fact that nobody is reminding me that between matches in a nervous manner

or shouting at the TV while the match is on makes me enjoy them. And Argentina actually wins both matches and they go to the knuckle stages where we play against Australia and the Netherlands in the round of 16 and quarterfinals. I plan to watch the matches with my wife. Nothing can break the calmness, but something feels different. An example of that and something that proves it is the fact that Argentina scores an own goal against Australia in the match 2-1 in Argentina's favor. And I watch, I look at my wife and I tell her, without thinking too much, Honey, you were in the kitchen when Argentina scored twice, right? is it too much to ask if you go back to the kitchen and you watch the rest of the match from there and as she answers me with a dirty look I tell her oh sorry I don't know where that came from Argentina wins both matches in nail-biting moments and during those moments I am a mess Strong emotions overwhelm me I am sitting in the edge of the sofa About to cry Shouting at the TV Why can't we have nice things Without having to suffer for them? My wife cries with me Not because of the match But because she thinks I'm about to have a stroke At any moment during those matches So when my colleagues from work My American colleagues from work Invite me to have a watch-along party In my honor for the semifinal against Croatia, I accept because the pressure of being in a social environment with my co-workers make me think that I will not fall to my emotions, which is correct for the first goal. Because for the second one, I shout in a low voice, I don't know how that exists, but it occurs, while clenching my fist, and by the third Argentinian goal, I just shout my grip, while my colleagues laugh at me and celebrate with me. The final is on a Sunday while I'm here.

here in Milwaukee. And the first thing I think when I notice this is I watch all the matches in Chicago. If Argentina loses, I'm going to blame myself for the rest of my life. I have to be honest, I have caught the World Cup fever finally. So I ask a friend that lives in the city what are his plans. He tells me he is going to watch the match with our first and second-generation American Argentinians in a sports bar. I go there, and when I get there, what I see is unbelievable. Everyone has Argentinian, flax Argentinian t-shirts. Everyone is drinking mare, our national drink. And it hits me. I miss this. It's true that I hate some of our national traits, like making everything about life or death, a matter of life or death, but it is part of who I am, my identity. And instead of thinking about the things that I hate, about my country, I should shift focus and think about the comforting facts around it, like that we are passionate about everything. So I get to watch the final with them, and as I leave that sports bar after the match, I understand two things. In first place, that no matter how much I deny it, my culture will come back to me, and the best thing I can do is represent it the best way I can. And in second place, France. Thank you

That was Franco Catalano Franco is an Argentine storyteller writer and performer based in Buenos Aires He hosts La Mosca a live storytelling show and creates intimate, funny emotionally honest stories about love, nostalgia and the strange ways we become ourselves Franco's story got me thinking about some of my fondest memories growing up. The World Cup in all these different time zones, and my brother and I waking up to soccer and just watching all morning. Men's World Cups, women's World Cups. Soccer was constantly on in our family room during those coveted summers. Then we'd reenact what we'd watched in the backyard, or go to our club practices and play the World Cup game. Two players for a team, and it's every team against each other. Pure chaos. I loved that in the summertime. I'd be wearing my little cotton Mia Hamm shirt into the ground, washed a hundred times, stickers baked into the fabric, mystery stains that had long since become part of the design. That shirt was basically a second skin, and I was not taking it off for anyone. And that's what sports do. They create core memories. When I was a kid, I'd go to Stanford Games and stand shyly at the fence to wait for autographs from players like Kelly O'Hara and Kristen Press. Then I became the player at Stanford signing girls shirts and posters. Then I was lining up alongside those same players I'd looked up to on the national team. There's something surreal about morphing into your own role model, but it's an honor and I don't take it lightly. Getting to hear how my teammates and I have touched people's lives, the stories that find their way back to us, that never gets old. I'll leave you with this. In 2015, I was watching the World Cup final from home when Carly Lloyd had her hat trick and the US won. A friend of mine called and left me voicemails narrating every big moment in real time. Four years later, I'm in Paris. My coach pulls me aside before my first World Cup start against Chile and says, this is just another 90 minutes of soccer. How many times have you played 90 minutes of soccer? You hold on to that. You tell yourself there's nothing new here. And then you walk out for the anthem and you're standing in Park de Prince next to Allie Krieger and Kristen Press, and all of that goes out the window. I ended up with two assists that game, both to players my friends and I had watched so closely in that 2015 final. To be part of that history on that stage, and then to be celebrating on the field like a giddy kid, I'll never forget it. That brings us to the end of our episode. Thanks so much for joining us. We hope that you have a wonderful, goal-filled week.

tierna davidson is the captain of gotham fc and a world cup winner and olympic gold medalist with the u.s women's national team a special thanks to jeff greer of gotham fc and matt buckman of the women's national team for all their help in putting this episode together this episode of the moth podcast was produced by sarah austin geness sarah jane johnson and me mark sollinger the rest of the Moth's leadership team includes Gina Duncan, Christina Norman, Marina Cloutier, Jennifer Hickson, Jordan Cardinale, Caledonia Cairns, Kate Tellers, Suzanne Rust, and Patricia Ureña. The Moth Podcast is presented by Odyssey. Special thanks to their executive producer, Leah Reese Dennis. All Moth stories are true as remembered by their storytellers.

For more about our podcast, information on pitching your own story, and everything else, go to our website, themoth.org.

Spring just slid into your DMs. Grab that boho look for that rooftop dinner, those sandals that can keep up with you, and hang some string lights to give your patio a glow up. Spring's calling. Ross, work your magic.

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