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PERSONAL -- Losing More Than A Match: Misogyny Within The Beautiful Game

6/11/2017

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My fellow twitter followers and blog readers, thank you once again for always interacting with me. Although it is only a few of you, I am always overwhelming grateful for the views and the follows and those that accompany me on my journey within the soccer world.

For those few people that actually pay attention to me (and it is a few), you might have noticed I post about my Friday Night League games. For a quick summary, for about a year and a half, I have been playing in a co-ed league in Redondo Beach for the past three seasons. First season, we were completely terrible. We tied one game. The second, we got a little better. We advanced to the playoffs but were eliminated in the first round. This season though, the third time was indeed the charm.

With the help of my three brothers, my team was able to remain almost undefeated. The connections and the passes made me really learn to love the game again and as a mother of two children, being able to score during matches helped me realize I might still have it. I might not be as fast as I once was and my hips are certainly much wider (haha), but the feeling of the ball at the feet still mattered. Up until the final, I had scored every game. For the sake of leading up to the topic of misogyny, I should mention a woman’s goal is worth two points but sometimes it helped our cause on the field and while I understand the cultural implications it means, it is not as bad as what I and my female teammate faced during the match.

We won the semi-final match at 7:00 PM (where I scored a goal), but lost the final 3-0. Our league works where the semi-final and the final are played back to back. The fatigue definitely caught up to our team but there were other factors that went into the match that left me feeling terrible after the game. And also dirty.

Throughout the final match, the other team talked. We have all been exposed to “the talk.” Some of us have been guilty of it ourselves. It is a final match where a championship for moral or a possible trophy is at stake. You do what you have to do. I would have accepted that if that was what had stayed consistent throughout the entire match.

But it was not.

It was foul and disgusting.

And demeaning.

For starters, the team came in with a lot of confidence. With it, came very eager mouths prepared to speak their minds with no regards to the consequences. This included flopping and complaining and then complaining about when the ref would mark a foul for us. Again, I know; It’s part of the game. But things began to get out of hand. It was not the typical smack-talking where it is about the performance on the field. It began to get personal. Then it began to target my teammate and I: the only women on the team.

It started subtly first.

“You sound like my ex-girlfriend...”

“Tienes a estas ninitas..”
(Translation: “you have these little girls..”)

Then it started getting worse. 

When I went to go speak to the referee about what was happening at halftime, it began again. I said the word “misogyny”. The boys (I dare not call them men even if they were of age) on the other team looked at me puzzled. “Do you know what that word means?” I asked.

“No, would you like to teach it to me? Can you show me please?”

Ladies know the tone. They recognize the implications. Women are servants. Made for society to serve and only serve. Things got so bad they had to switch referees. When they added the new referee, it was time to play the victim. “Both of their girls are saying they’re going to trip me during the game.” Those words never came out of my mouth.

By the second half, they had already decided. My teammate and I were toys and they were going to use us for amusement. One particular player on the other team began to get extremely close to my other female teammate. And not the close where you’re playing and running on the field. This was deliberate closeness. Where he’s circling around her to make her feel uncomfortable. There was also a moment for me as well. The ball was nowhere near me and yet when I turned to make a run, he was right next to me and I stumbled.

“I guess you’re falling for me.”

When they scored the first goal, it only validated their authority towards us. When my female teammate and I stepped up to the midfield line to kickoff the ball after the goal, this same player did not stop.

“Tiene estas viejas...” The direct translation of that is “older ladies” but in this case, it is derogatory. It is not bitch but it might as well be.

I was not a saint during this game. I made comments to him. Judged his masculinity and made one remark I should not have regarding the size of his “member.” At one point, when I went to get the ball for a corner kick, this same player intentionally tapped the ball away from me. I had had it. I pushed him and he pushed me back.

(For the record, I know that violence is NEVER EVER okay. Both from men AND women and it was wrong of me to do that. I had reached my boiling point but I did not have any right to do that to him.)
They scored a two more goals and more players got cards and they continued to talk.

I had a chance close to goal and completely missed it. This same player laughed and the other male players on his team also jeered about my sloppy performance. For a playing standpoint, I was mad at myself. I was giving them what they wanted. Women athletes are insignificant. My clumsy shot on goal--not even a shot cause it managed to completely miss my foot and went through my legs--only further proved that point.

When I went to challenge the ball, it ricocheted off both myself and sexist player B and bounced out of bounds.

“You should be careful. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m just looking out for you. You don’t need to challenge the ball.”

“I don’t need anyone looking out for me,” I told him. “Much less you.”

I did not shake their hands. I did not want more contact than I had already had from them. I felt gross.

It is not even about the loss. The loss still hurts, don’t get me wrong, but it is about so much more than that. A game is a game. But the rhetoric that continues to be made regarding co-ed leagues and the treatment with female players needs to change.

It is about the fact that I was fully-clothed, wearing a long sleeve under my jersey and jogging pants and still felt like I was exposed. It is about the feeling that no matter how many showers I take and how many times I scrub myself with soap, I will still continue to feel dirty.

My performance was sub par and my team’s was as well. Was the other team better? No. But soccer is not fair sometimes. And ugly wins get championships sometimes regardless of the team’s behavior or moral beliefs. That team and those male players would go get their trophy and their league shirts with the words “CHAMPION” on it and feel like all the actions they made this night were okay.

What happened after the game was equally as revolting. When I went to speak with the director of the referees for the league, explaining to him the harassment my teammate and I had faced throughout the match, the following responses actually came out of his mouth:

  • “I didn’t hear what the other team said”
  • “Sometimes the game gets excited and tension is created”
  • “Those people come from a culture where what they say is harsh and cruel... what can I do”
  • “If the slurs were in Spanish, unfortunately I can’t understand it...”

Afterwards, I went to fetch my Adidas bag and put on my shoes. My son came up to me, calling “Mom” with a beautiful smile on his face and I got tears in my eyes.

I am raising two boys and to still see something like still happening on soccer fields hurts me. No women in the sports industry is a stranger to it though. Day after day we are exposed to the sexism within the sport. I myself am partially involved. I do not watch women’s sports or women’s soccer as actively as I watch men’s. The hypocrisy I carry does not take away the absurdity women must face just for wanting to watch, talk about or play the sport.

But we must continue to speak to the referees, our teammates, our children and our colleagues to help clean off the stains that lie within the beautiful game.

I'd also like to dedicate this blogpost to my teammate, Jenny. You endured so much more than I did that game and held your own with double the strength than I did. I'm sorry you had to deal with that.


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PERSONAL: Espera o Esperanza -- Univision Deportes’ Gift to Mexican-Americans with Facebook Live Stream

2/21/2017

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Univision Deportes used Facebook’s live stream to do their first English-language broadcast of the Clasico Nacional match America vs. Chivas on Saturday. The game started at 7 pm so naturally, I remembered at 6:45 pm. Just kidding, twitter and everyone on it reminded me.  
 
Mind you, since I am no longer in charge of making graphics for the Mexican Soccer Show predictions (yes, it was me behind the curtain the whole time), my dedication to watch the league has not been as consistent. But this game was something I could not miss.
 
For now, let’s disregard what it means to the people I work with and love and forever indebted to and focus on just the cultural significance of this and I’ll start it with another one of my very fun stories.
 
When I’m not interning or raising my children, I work as a call center associate for a non-profit that does dental work (aka, I’m a reception in a dental office). The office is in Inglewood, which means a vast majority of our patients are people of color and also Spanish speaking.
 
My Spanish isn’t great. It’s probably less than great. And sometimes, I get words mixed up. Alongside my job of community outreach, I also handle day-to-day appointments. Right now, we have a waiting list going on for patients that need orthodontic work (fancy way of saying “braces”). This past week, as I was talking on the phone to a Spanish-speaking patient, I said: “Ahorita tenemos una lista de esperanza…” I have been saying this for weeks now. So it made me feel weird when my coworker started laughing at me. Apparently, esperanza means hope whereas, espera means waiting or to wait and it is definitely not the only word I have gotten mixed up. And I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels this way.
 
Take the broadcasters for Univision Deportes and how they mistakenly called Chivas (which means “goat”) “sheep.” As I sat there watching the game, listening to them discuss whether it was flock or herd, I did not even realize they had made a mistake. Obviously, I know Chivas’ mascot is goats, but listening to them speak in Spanglish while watching Liga MX felt so therapeutic the error completely escaped me.
 
Don’t get me wrong, Spanish-speaking commentators are great and the legacy one feels when watching soccer in Spanish feels right. It feels custom. Whenever I talk to people who do not like soccer, they always mention how much they love to hear the game in Spanish without even understanding it. And I partially can relate to that. I’m a first-generation Mexican-American that speaks Spanish so I can understand most of what they are saying during the games.
 
But every once in a while, the commentary begins to feel like that one Aunt that speaks Spanish really fast when she is mad and the translator inside your head is working as fast as it can while simultaneously watching the game and suddenly you’re literally lost in translation and you have lost focus on the game and you realize you might not be as Mexican as you realize (or is that just me?).
 
But during this broadcast, my brain did not feel the need to work harder than it had to. It was therapeutic in the sense that I felt like I belonged. I was finally in a bubble that understood me and people who identify themselves like me. The people that sometimes mess up words in Spanish or might not speak Spanish at all. And it felt really validating. My identity finally felt like it was being recognized not as some “other” demographic, but as an inclusive part of the discussion taking place when it came to Mexican soccer.
 
Which brings me back to the career side of my excitement and the realization that I’m Katniss or Harry Potter. I’m not as cool as Katniss or Harry Potter but I mean in the sense that I felt like I was starting a revolution or had this grand radical idea when really there have been other people around me who have been plotting and paving the road for people like me to follow. People have already been talking about Mexican soccer and Liga MX in English for years but had not received the recognition they deserved when they first started. It’s really a beautiful thing to see take place.
 
They might get modest when the spotlight is on them and I’m totally not just saying this because I work for them but the guys at The Mexican Soccer Show and FutMexNation are like my Order of the Phoenix or my Plutarch Heavensbee. They literally are pioneers when it comes to where the recognition for our identity being noticed started. They are the journalists who said, “I’m not solely a Spanish speaker and I’m not necessarily an English-only journalists. I’m somewhere in the middle and I want to be THAT journalists.” The Spanish-English fusion is slowly happening and has been happening for years in different part of journalism and to see it slowly happening in soccer, specifically with Univision Deportes—an entity that most people have grown up watching Liga MX on—is incredibly validating.
 
So, I might mistake my words sometimes and be laughed at for my Spanish-speaking mistakes. I might also sometimes get frustrated by where I fit in the spectrum of Mexican soccer and journalism. And as Edward James Olmos once said in the movie Selena:
 
We have to be more Mexican than the Mexicans and more American than the Americans, both at the same time! It’s exhausting! Nobody knows how tough it is being a Mexican-American!
 
It has been tough. But it looks like people are beginning to understand the struggle and they are starting to make things a little easier. And they are understanding that Liga MX fans are not just Spanish-speaking. Get ready guys, good things are going to happen.

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PERSONAL: ON The Eve of Inaugurating Hate, Be Proud of Your Identity

1/20/2017

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When I started work on Monday, I was sad. Not because it was Monday. But because I knew eventually Friday would come. And this Friday wouldn’t be routine as usual. It was bringing change… or rather, a lack of change.

Because on January 20, 2017, the United States of America will swear in Donald J. Trump as the 45th President.

In case you’d forgotten, sorry folks. It’s really happening.

And I still can’t believe it.

But just as most things in my life, when things suck and feel gross, soccer somehow makes its way back into appearance.

It was there after the election results back in November, when Mexico faced the US in the Confederations Cup playoff game and ended in the 2-0 streak in Columbus, Ohio. Both teams joined together to get one photo. A show of solidarity that made me feel somewhat better, particularly after Rafa Marquez scored the game-winning goal.

That happened today, too. As I was sitting at my desk, only half joking with my coworkers that I would be wearing all black tomorrow to mourn the loss of a family member (the United States), I was reminded by Wiso to apply for a press pass for the Mexico-Iceland game in February.

Back in November following the Confederations Cup game, I had saved a document for a blog post I never got around to writing but only left the title. It read: “PERSONAL: World Cup Qualifiers and the Election – My Week of Self-Identity.”

I feel the same thing now as I did then. This inescapable need to evaluate myself, of determining who I am and what I stand for in terms of the country that I live in. And of all the things that I am that Trump hates, I keep focusing on my race. A Mexican-American who was once referred to by the soon-to-be president as a partial “drug and rapist” who can be assumed to be a good person. I also keep focusing on what life will feel like in two and half weeks of having Trump as our president and being at a Mexico game in a city that exploits capitalism, heavy spending and luxury living, particularly as a fan of El Tri.

Not only that, but what it feels like to swear in a man who has been victorious by singling out the “others” and projecting that he will somehow “Make America Great Again” by slowly doing away with them? How coincidentally there was an argument just last week all over twitter in regards to the US soccer media (in a sense, I might also just being saying this for correlation) have spent years metaphorically building a wall around its Hispanic viewers? About this weird limbo Mexican-Americans live in where we aren’t part of the “US soccer culture” that some are trying to establish but we also don’t really fit in with our Mexican aficionados? Some of us speak only English but wear the colors proudly. Some of us speak a combo-Spanglish fusion. And some of us speak Spanish but have lived our whole if not most of our lives in the US. We sort of fit but not really.

What do we do? What will become of us? And to that, I look back again at my old Instagram post:

I've been trying to make sense of this week. Ive cried. Argued. Been angry. Angry at what has happened. Angry at what's to come. And like always, soccer helped me get through it. My friends. Family. This sports. It's players. Today history was made: in a great way. And Mexico, they needed it. Even if it was inspired by the political atmosphere we live in, what a victory. I'm still scared. But damn it, I'm proud to be Mexican-American. Proud to be part of a country that I don't know from living there, but that exists in my heart. I'm scared to think that in a few months, being proud of my background might be a dangerous thing to proclaim. But I won't stop. And I hope you all keep fighting. Keep fighting the good fight. And for those of you who don't vote or say voting doesn't matter, politics and engagement exist more than just the polling booths. You're upset? Get educated. Don't just post shit on social media. Learn. Be informed. And unite. And then, you'll remember you have a voice. So tonight, for the first time all week, I fall asleep proud and with a smile. □□⚽️❤️ #ElFutbolEsNuestro #AbrazosPorElFutbol #OneTeamTwoNations We're going to tear down your wall. #NotMyPresident

A photo posted by Amelia Lopez □□⚽ (@aztecaameliaaa) on Nov 11, 2016 at 11:24pm PST

I’m reflecting in my self-identity and I still come back to my same conclusion: I’m still proud to be who I am. And this might solely be focused on what it feels like to Mexican, but it goes for everyone.

Be proud to be Mexican.
Be proud to be a woman.
Be proud to be disabled.
Be proud to be a Muslim.
Be proud to be Black.
Be proud of being LGBQT.

It’s going to be a long four years. And it’ll feel like we’re being isolated and targeted and discriminated every chance he and his posse (a posse, by the way, that fails to have a single Latino in the cabinet since 1988) get to talk. But just remember this: on February 8th, you can bet your ass that Sam Boyd Stadium will be full of Green, White and Red.

Because we’re here and we’re proud.

Es tu tierra pero es mi casa.

Keep fighting the good fight, guys. I’ll be right there with you.

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Picture taken on March 3, 2010 at the Rose Bowl for Mexico vs. New Zealand. #MIKA
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PERSONAL: Being a Mom And An Aspiring Journalist is Hard

9/18/2016

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A few weeks ago I did the worst thing a journalist could do: I forgot to turn in an article .

It was in no way intentional but I also did not have it as a top priority.

When I graduated from college, I seriously thought there would be jobs lining up for me. I thought it was going to be a breeze finding something right out of college. I went to a prestigious school, had a decent amount of internships under my belt and I had children. What could possibly stop me? I ignored all the post-grad people around me who said it might take a while to get a job. I chuckled. Piece of cake, I thought to myself. But that was not the case.

I wish I could have been like all other post-grads struggling to get a job. Take a “gap year” or explore myself for a while. But I couldn’t.

I have two children.

I’ve settled for jobs since I graduated. I’ve worked at bowling alleys, been a towel lady at a gym, was a cashier for a cafè in Santa Monica.

In an ideal world, I would have had my children at a much more “maturely-appropiate age.” But then again, those kids would not be the children I see and engage with every day of my life. They would be some other version of Amy’s kids and that would just be weird.

But this is not about my children necessarily but the integration of missing an assignment and trying to be a mother all at once.

As mothers, we’re expected to do everything while simultaneously critiqued for doing absolutely nothing.

Even writing this is completely frustrating. Mostly because I haven’t had time to write it. I’ve stopped periodically to work on it when my children are sleeping, when I’m on lunch from my job, or whenever I have a spare moment to collect my thoughts together to write something of merit.

Because that too is the part of the struggle.

It is not simply being a journalist, but aspiring to be a great journalist. Trying to make sure that what you write or send in isn’t complete crap (and trust me, people will notice when your work is not up to par). And wanting to make sure that you’re also not ignoring or depriving your children of your attention.

It is hard, guys.

It’s not impossible but damn, is it hard.

It’s a daily struggle of finally putting your kids to bed at 8-9 pm and then slowly trying to keep your eyes open because I have such a great idea for a story and I need to write it now as you crawl next to your children and your eyelids slowly start weighing 30 pounds each.

This post in and of itself took me over a week to completely write. A WEEK.

It’s the dedication that keeps me going and at times makes things harder. Trying to balance giving 100% to your children, your family, your jobs (because I’m a FIRM believer in doing a great job no matter what it is—even a towel lady), and still trying to follow your dreams.

I was able to do that this summer thanks to my internship with FutMexNation/The Mexican Soccer Show.

What started as simple social media management grew into very humbling and grateful opportunities given to me by the people I work for.

I covered Copa America games and watched Mexico play. I was able to cover the Olympic team in Rio exclusively for the FutMexNation. It was amazing and enriching.

But I would be doing a dishonor to myself if I didn’t mention what was behind the curtain.

Working long hours before the trip to Phoenix. Taking a flight with two babies who were very cranky. Having to lug my giant breastmilk pump provided to me by WIC (Women, Infants & Children) to media events and swearing to security and such that is was most definitely NOT a bomb.

Wanting to network and engage with some amazing journalists all while double-checking with your boyfriend that the boys were okay. Having a curfew for yourself because you absolutely knew you had to put your children to bed at a certain time (and you've made a choice to exclusively breastfeed your baby). Waking up early to get breakfast and lunch ready while trying to be early for pre-game schedules.

Then when the Olympics came, it was trying to distract your children while you watched the game so you wouldn’t give half-assed reports. Trying to mentally prepare yourself to have your children crying as you hurried to finish the last couple of sentences. Knowing it takes you personally about a week to finish a personal blog and you needed to step it up to get these time-sensitive articles done ASAP.

By the way, this is NOT in any way critiquing the work I’ve been so privileged to be offered by my internship. And yes, I’m very well aware that I can simply deny to do any work if I think I can’t handle it.

But then there’s the woman in me. Not the mother or the journalist but simply the growing woman inside me that never wants to say no. The woman that grew up with three brothers and had to keep up and be as good as them. The woman who went to a low-income high school where many were doomed to fail and graduated Valedictorian with the Gates Millennium Scholarship to USC. The woman who graduated from USC with a 2-year-old baby by her side and a 6-month-old baby in her belly that is tired of people continuously judging what women are capable of doing. The person who has slowly grown more aware of the injustices taking place and wants to dismantle the patriarchy.

Who sees these great women doing amazing work in journalism, who do great work while also having kids or are just fantastic women in general.

I want to be like them. I want to keep working hard.

But I cry sometimes. I cried when I missed that assignment. And I get overwhelmed and I don’t feel good enough and it sucks and it makes me question myself and irritates me that men never get ridiculed this way and I’ll sit in my room as I type out blog posts like this after my family has gone to sleep not because it is necessary or that anyone will really read it, but because I know I have to. For myself.

And, I’m not going to lie, guys. Sometimes, it’s really hard.

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PERSONAL: Analyzing The Aztecs Has Made Friends!

8/9/2016

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Hello my 11-15 readers! Actually, I should not be falsely modest. We all know it’s increased to at least 30-40 (yay, improving)!

That being said, I have some really cool news.

I’m posting this late and so it might seem somewhat redundant but I need to blog about it because 1) it’s what I do, 2) I want to have my own little actual proof that I gave thanks and showed immense gratitude and 3) what’s life without a little #humblebragging?

For those of you who follow the blog and also have added me on Twitter you guys know that I have been interning for the amazing guys who run both “The Mexican Soccer Show” (@MexSoccerShow) and the FutMexSource website.

So far, 2016 with them has been amazing and got even better this summer when I was invited to help cover the Copa America Centenario tournament with them (Yes, people. I know. I know. I KNOW how that turned out. Do not take away from the experience no matter how many times I cry at night thinking about… you know…. That one… stupid match…). I learned a lot over those couple of days.

And apparently, I impressed.

I’m happy to announce that me talking to myself on the internet is no longer just for me and my handful of readers. Analyzing The Aztecs has expanded and will be helping FutMexSource cover the U-23 Mexico squad on their journey to repeat Olympic glory. I have a few articles up on their site already for the tournament and will be continuing covering the latest news on the Olympic squad.

These guys thought I had some merit as a writer and saw I had a significant fanbase (hahaha… just kidding. Only Joely—Wiso told me—and my brother really read my blog. And sometimes Victor and Alex. Hi, guys!) and decided to let me write for them.

So, go ahead and take a look at my articles and while you’re on the FutMexSource website (see, I put the hyperlink twice because you should REALLY go check it out), check out all the other cool stuff the guys are covering.

Thanks again for following me on my journey trying to convince people I know what I’m talking about. Enjoy!

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PERSONAL: I’m a Woman Who Doesn’t Know Much—If Anything—About Women’s Soccer

5/10/2016

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The Daily Show recently did a package about the latest issue going on between with the USSF and the US Women’s National Soccer Team and the wage gap they are facing.

I was watching the episode with my brothers and being a female player (and recently coming back from a women’s empowerment trip), I expressed my feelings of remorse that it was an issue that they were not getting paid as much as the men.

We were having a civilized but heated discussion when my brother blatantly told me, “You don’t even watch the women’s games. They have games constantly but you never watch them.”

And he was right.

If you asked me to name at least ten players that play for El Tri, I could do it without any hesitation.

I am the product of a Mexican soccer player. My father grew up in the farmlands of Guanajuato, Mexico and soccer was his only love. The youngest of eight children, my father followed his older brother everywhere and grew to love the game. Although he could handle the ball well with his feet, it was the spot between the two posts that really called his name.

I was never able to witness my father during his prime but legend has it that he was good—very good. He dove for every ball. He controlled his defense to the T and even when his men made errors that resulted in goals, he kept their confidence up to keep them focused. The love for the game kept him sane and when he had his children, he wanted to pass on that feeling of love to them as well.

My love for soccer and El Tri comes from my father. Being the only daughter in a family with an older brother and two younger brothers, my father often forgot I was a girl. This is not even a comical statement. I had to be as fast as my brothers. I had to shoot as well as they could. I needed to have the determination and will to play the sport as much as they did. If I couldn’t keep up, it wasn’t enough. I had to do better. Needed to be better.

Wrapped up in his determination to make his children the best they could be, (and from his own personal privilege) he failed to think about who I was: a girl.

My father is not intentionally a sexist man and I never believe it his intention to not let me know about girl soccer players. Clearly growing up, we knew about Mia Hamm and there were girls in my club teams or in AYSO you would hear about going to the play for the Olympic Development Program.

But I have to admit: I am a women who knows very little about women’s soccer.

And not just the US women’s team (I watch some of the games but I’m not dedicated at all). As a lover of El Tri,I don’t even know anyone on the Mexican Women’s National Team. Not one woman. I still honestly do not even know who the coach is without Google-ing it.

In fact, today, I retweeted a tweet from a woman on the Mexican National Soccer Team but did not realize she played for the team until I checked out her profile (even more of a disclaimer: I only retweeted it because I follow Kobe Bryant).

Deal. https://t.co/dwclqJCFhT

— Kobe Bryant (@kobebryant) May 10, 2016

My brother was right. I am part of the problem. And it’s not just me. All around me I see lots of girls being proud of players like Alex Morgan, Hope Solo, or former player Abby Wambach. And that's solely domestic players. The only real international player I know is the Brazilian player, Marta. But a majority of us are not watching Women’s Soccer with such dedication as we do men’s tournaments or leagues. I don’t know the NWSL’s teams nor do I get excited about the Women’s World Cup as much as I am looking forward to the Men’s World Cup in 2018.

Is it the societal patriarchy that still exists that hinders me to know more about or want to celebrate “my own kind”? Maybe. Is it the media’s fault for not reporting or giving the same kind of coverage to women’s soccer at all levels the way they do for men’s soccer? Probably. Is it my own fault because of the way that I was raised and how I focus on personal preferences to choose what aspects of soccer I follow?

It could be all of these factors. There is no right answer as of now. Only that this current situation going on with the US Women’s National Team has allowed for a larger discussion to begin when it comes to women’s soccer and at what point we will begin to see them on the same platform as their counterpart. At what point will the clichéd, “one of the guys” no longer be a form of validating a female soccer players ability to play well? At what point will we actually start paying everyone the amount they deserve to be paid?

And it’s not just me that needs to be paying attention to women’s soccer. It’s a much larger part of society who has turned their back to this part of soccer and like me, should start giving it the respect it deserves.

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Personal: What Cuau Means To Me, Mexican Soccer and Its Future 

3/5/2016

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Cuautèmoc Blanco played his farewell match for Club Amèrica Saturday evening against Morelia. The match ended in a 4-1 victory for the Aguilas, only adding more compliment to Blanco, who is already considered a legend to Mexico fans and the Mexican community as a whole. But in the words of one Univision commentator, “Fans were there more for Cuau than for the victory itself.”

And while the superstar has entered into the world of politics, his place in soccer will not ever be gone. Nor, it seems, will he ever really leave.

Because there is not and there never will be a player like him.

I didn’t get a chance to watch the game against Morelia. But this farewell match and the tweets that I looked at during the match reminded me of a post I put up during Temo’s farewell match with El Tri.

Today we say goodbye to a legend. Even at your age, right now you demonstrate that good talent never goes away. Thank you for everything and always giving your heart to play for our team. #AdiosCuautehmoc #GOAT #ElTri

A video posted by Amelia Lopez □□⚽ (@aztecaameliaaa) on May 28, 2014 at 7:29pm PDT

This was over two years ago and the caption I wrote then is as true now.

Cuauhtemoc Blanco is 43 years old and yet, playing in the game against Morelia, one can see the fire and passion in his heart will never go out. He ended his career with America with 125 goals.

Despite the snub he was given back in 2006 (La Volpe, be real… we all know you didn’t take him because you didn’t like him), what he has done for Mexican soccer and what he leaves as a legacy is so important.

He was a player that wasn’t afraid to take on defenders. His posture and form of moving the ball were all wrong. From a physical point of looking at him, you wouldn’t think he had magic. But he did. He could give through balls where no one else could see it. He could chip the ball effortlessly with three defenders coming at him. Even during his last game with America, he could still pick up the ball and jump through two defenders. He worked hard in the midfield. He wasn’t the fastest player I had ever seen play for Mexico or the Mexican league, but he was the smartest.

Each move was deliberate; the mission was always to win. Even as he missed that perfect chip shot during the 9th minute of his last match with America, you could see his frustration as he saw his nearly perfect goal go past the goalie’s gloves and hit the crossbar. He should’ve made it. He knows what he’s capable of.

Every fan did. Every critic did. (Seriously, La Volpe, why didn’t you take him to Germany?) Mexican fans will never have Cuauhtemoc Blanco again and that is both a blessing and a curse. There is a nostalgia when fans watch Blanco play. Even I, who haven't been alive long enough to really have seen all of the different stages of Blanco's career, am reminded of the man that deserved more chances with El Tri. Of the man that El Tri deserved to have play more games. More tournaments. “Gallito” Vasquez and now Jonathan Dos Santos are some of the closest players in terms of passion and perseverance that are getting close to matching Cuauhtemoc’s passion in the midfield but no player will ever take his place. There was too much passion. There was too much passion. Even if a player does play to that level, it won’t be ‘Temo,” so it won’t be the same.

I say today what I said 92 weeks ago. Thank you, Cuauhtemoc. Even at your age, you’ve shown that natural talent never goes away.

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PERSONAL: Baby Steps In The Right Direction

12/11/2015

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I’m an intern for a great up-and-coming organization, I have two kids and I’m currently working retail part-time.

When I embarked on a journey into college back in 2011, I did not imagine my life to turn out this way. But some clichés are needed clichés; everything happens for a reason.

For those of you who are dedicated readers (I’m talking to you 5 random people I don’t know and Kikan), you know that I evolv just as often e as this blog evolves. You also know that when I started college, I was very fragile. Going to USC—a beautifully passionate school that was heavily invested in American Football and all that comes with it—having dreams of being a successful reporter that follows the Mexican National Soccer team was nothing short of foreign. Add that with the fact that I came from a low-income school that did not have a school newspaper (a YouTube page for our news segments, yeah right), I was intimidated from the get-go. I didn’t know anything about journalism. I only knew writing and being able to express myself through words. Telling stories to inspire others and feeling that inspiration whenever I saw a player make his mark on the field, and inspiring others around me. I was fragile, intimidated and very unprepared.

But I kept going. I kept going because it was what I had to do. And what I needd to do if I ever wanted to make it anywhere. I half-assed my work sometimes when I was not passionate about it. Some of news packages and radio segments are still hard to watch and listen. Add that into the fact that I got pregnant both my sophomore AND senior year of college, and my work ethic (as well as my self-confidence) was not always at the level it was suppose to be.

But still, I kept going. And finally, I stumbled onto something. My digital journalism class my junior year where—for the first time in my whole undergraduate journey—I talked about my passion for soccer and what I wanted to do and the response was: “Cool.” One of my biggest issues is the need to feel validated. But having someone look at me with respect and awe rather than an alien (haha, yes, I see the pun) when it came to El Tri made me feel so happy and that much more secure about pursuing my goal.

So I started trying to do everything I can to mimic successful people that were doing what I wanted to do. Except there was one particular problem. I didn’t know ANYONE who was doing what I wanted to do. I knew the legends. Enrique Bermudez, Pablo Ramirez, and ‘El Profe’ Bracamontes. But was anyone doing what I wanted to do? Was there anyone that was a Mexican-American who loved the Mexican National Soccer team and was reporting on it? More importantly, was someone doing it in English?

Low and behold the advantages of technology and social media. After literally searching “Mexico soccer team” on twitter for people to follow, I came across Tom Marshall. What he was doing was writing about Mexico. Giving his opinion on the players and the team. And getting paid to do it! Slowly but surely that led me to more people like him. Cesar Hernandez. Andrea Canales. Wiso Vazquez. Nayib Moran. They were getting things published and read on news sites I always wanted to be a part of. Best of all, they had passion. They really genuinely love what they’re doing. When I found out they had their own YouTube show called “The Mexican Soccer Show,” I was sold. My respect just went through the roof for these people. Seeing them tweet out about news that I was following and seeing them post that they were at the games or in the press boxes for the Mexico games made me so envious but inspired.

Needless to say when the call for an intern for their show came out, I applied instantly. Long story short, I was given the job and have had an incredible time not only working on the social media, but also being able to engage with people who are fans of the show and follow the Mexican National team and the Liga MX religiously.

There is more to the Liga MX than just Club Amèrica and there is more to the national team than just the “stars.” So much stuff has been going on that this organization has made me pay attention to and has made me a much more dedicated observer and reporter to all things Mexico. From the Gold Cup, to the U17 World Cup and even paying attention to each Mexican soccer player eligible individually as club players and analyzing them to see how they fit into the national level for global competition. It is a journey I hope does not end anytime soon and that I continue to grow more and more as the months go by.

This internship is a fantastic opportunity and my dream for the first time in a long time does not seem crazy. Because I see others inspiring me to reach my goal. And I’ll get there. Baby steps.

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My Thoughts on Ricardo “Tuca” Ferretti: A Different Approach But It’s Not Trying Too Hard

8/24/2015

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The Mexican Soccer Federation held a press conference Monday afternoon to present Ricardo “Tuca” Ferretti as the new interim coach for El Tri, most notably the Confederation Cup playoff against the United States on October 10th.

There were the obvious questions regarding Miguel Herrera’s dismissal but both Ferretti and Decio De Maria brushed it off. Ferretti did well in taking the backseat when it came to this press conference while also appearing very assertive on the goals he wishes to complete as the interim coach. His primary objective being the October 10th match that will hopefully end with a win for the Aztec side and a ticket to the Confederations Cup.

The press conference has the feeling of someone who understood what was going on at the moment. To the many that have been following and are fans of the Mexican squad, time has been an enemy. The team’s first friendly in preparation for the playoff match is September 4th against Trinidad and Tobago. The second will be played on September 8th against Argentina.

Almost as if answering the prayers of so many who were stuck in limbo about who would be the new coach, “Tuca” made it known at the press conference that he offered his services for the team for these four games and will also continue coach his Mexican club, Tigres, during that time. (Ferretti will have two games with Tigres before the September 4th friendly, 6 games with Tigres after the Argentina match and then will take on the United States for the Confederations Cup playoff in October).

And despite all this crazy scheduling, “Tuca” still kept a very calm composure and gave reassurance that he will be a great interim coach. And onlyan interim coach.

His impression during that press conference sort of took the chip off my shoulder about the person replacing Herrera. There was so much hostility and media pandemonium with the dismall of Herrera that it almost felt as if I would never recover or even grow to want another coach for El Tri (yes, I wanted the players to coach themselves… haha).

He was calm. Funny. Straightforward. Very analytical about the process he is going to take for choosing the first squad he will lead in the match against Trinidad and Tobago.

He avoided any controversy surrounding Herrera and even made it clear that it was a necessity to get in contact with not just Herrera himself, but numerous past head coaches such as Chepo de La Torre and even LaVolpe.

He spoke vaguely about which players will be coming to play. Ferretti made it known that naturalized players also have the possibility of being called up to the next four matches he will be in charge of leading during his time. Players of all ages are open to a possible slot. The only direct statement he made was that Alan Pulido would not be called up. “He’s not even on the list,” he stated.

His approach was not to start from scratch and make his team but to cultivate the good things that came from Herrera’s time in charge that will help pave the foundation and create something positive for the person that will permanently be in charge of the team. He has great respect for the Mexican team as an outsider. He wants them to succeed. As he put it, to see Mexico advance farther in a World Cup is “an obsession” of his. If this is a choice from the federation to make more time to pick a permanent person, I believe they made a good choice.

He handled it well in front the media. Now it’s time to see how he handles it on the field.

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PERSONAL: My Thoughts Surrounding the Media, Herrera and El Tri

7/29/2015

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Following Mexico’s Gold Cup Title win on Sunday afternoon, things quickly went from great to sad for head coach, Miguel Herrera.

It was announced Tuesday morning during a press conference with Decio De Maria, future president of the Mexican Football Federation, that Miguel Herrera would step down as the manager of El Tri.

The decision came when rumors sparked Monday afternoon that Miguel Herrera hit TV Azteca reporter, Christian Martinoli, while in the airport in Philadelphia following the Gold Cup victory. A video showing Herrera getting into a verbal altercation with the reporter along with his daughter hitting another reporter, Luis Garcia, surfaced hours later.

Herrera being sacked leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. When news about the story broke, I had my doubts. I did not believe that Herrera had really hit someone at the airport, let alone just hours after he had been celebrating a great redemptive victory with his national team.

The story continued and continued and more speculation and information came about regarding the incident. Then I became frustrated. Because it was the narrative that I had just finished talking about in another one of my posts a couple of weeks ago. This constant expectation or grudge that the media has with the Mexican National Soccer Team.

It resurfaced following the Costa Rica game. As an aspiring journalist, especially one that looks up and idolizes many reporters that follow the Mexican National Soccer Team, the approach that Univision Deportes and many other media outlets approach the results of that game were nothing short of scandalous. For starters, Edgar Martinez constant jabbering into the microphone that Guardado should miss the penalty was ridiculous and insulting. Our voices should be non-confrontational as journalist, not spewing with so much personalized emotion. Once he got started, a ripple effect erupted. People were beginning that Mexico did not deserve to advance to the final (which was accurate in many ways). They were an example of the corruption going on in CONCACAF. Bad thing after bad thing was said about the team.

Herrera’s approach to the controversy surrounding that game was brilliant. He took the very truthful direction that the game was this way. You could play great (like Mexico did against the Netherlands) and lose and you could play pretty horribly and still be given an advantage.

This blunt truth, however, was not enough for the media. They wanted him to grovel and plea and expected the same from Ochoa and Guardado, who also said along the same thing during their own post-game interviews. The media wanted Mexico to say they were helped to the final and that they did not deserve to be there.

Since this is the personal section of my blog, I’ll admit. I did not think that Mexico was going to win the final. I though Jamaica was going to come out dominate and determined. Even the coach, Winfried Schãfer, was saying that all the expectations and pressure was on Mexico, and rightfully so. El Tri’s road to the final was the result of penalties in both their quarterfinal and semifinal game. It was not the way to get to the final so my expectations of them were not very strong.

Hector Herrera had been playing bad the whole tournament. Vela and Oribe Peralta were mediocre when it came to finish after the Cuba game. The defense lacked assertiveness. The only solid player was Guardado. To me, there was no way that they would win the way they were playing at all.

Then Sunday came around. And Mexico did not play the way they had been playing. They were not the team that they could be. They were the team they should have been the whole tournament.

With Vela out of the final, Tecatito played well up top. And Hector Herrera finally was taken out and was replaced with Dueñas. Just those two changes and you saw a difference. Take that in with Guardado and Jonathan Dos Santos’ fast approach in the middle to get every ball possible. Along with the defense finally being as assertive as they could possibly be, and what you got was 3-1 victory.

There was no controversy. No penalties or referee calls were provided during this game. Mexico was able to shut their critics up and prove that they are a strong team not just in CONCACAF, but globally.

But, as with the media, it was not enough.

Mexico still did not deserve to be there, some wrote. Others believed they had nothing to celebrate. Winning this tournament was only going to allow Mexico to throw their trash under the rug and learn nothing from this experience. It still was not enough. They should still mention the help that they received on the journey to the tournament.

Enough!

Was all I thought in my mind. It was a button that did not need to be pushed. Yes, we analyze and spend our lives making sense of the team because El Tri is such an interesting team to follow, but there was a lot of hostility from the press.

To expect them to win is true. But the approach that the media has had since Copa America has been malicious.

Fast forward this to Miguel Herrera’s termination after this altercation with Martinoli. Yes, from a business standpoint, he had to be fired. There was no way around it. Sure, the video just happened to start taking place after the alleged punch took place, but there were enough witnesses that were saying it happened. So he had to go.

And while many are saying that Miguel Herrera is hotheaded and he has pushed his limits both on and off the field, perhaps the real attention should also be put on Martinoli and the rest of the media’s role in abusing their freedom of speech.

There were plenty of examples throughout Mexico’s summer of soccer.

Record tried to prove the team had drama and hostility within each other. Univision Deportes tried to claim Mexico should have given up their spot in the final and Guardado should have missed the penalty. Christian Martinoli was talking about Herrera since the Copa America and even creating hostility with him on social media and as when proven, at the airport, where witnesses say that allegedly Martinoli was saying things to Herrera’s daughter. There was this stigma of making the situation worse for the sake of scandal. And it was very disheartening to watch.

Herrera had to go. That is certain. But this is not a good thing for the team. The chemistry that emerged once Herrera took the reigns had been unlike any other manager-player relationship I had ever seen. Social media could have influenced the relationship as a way to appeal to the fans, but even on the field, one could see it. How happy Herrera got when one of his players scored. How they would run to their coach when they scored in order to celebrate with him. Herrera had delivered in his promise that they would win the Gold Cup.

The worst part of it all was that Herrera’s dismissal is not for a football reason. It was political. Yes, he had to leave. But his reign deserved to continue. For it to be diminished because of a scandalous situation where the two-sides to every story puts just as much responsibility as the person that was hit is a horrible way to leave. It was not a reflection on his coaching.

In my opinion, had this not happened, he would have stayed until 2018. He would have continued to made a difference for the team.

His legacy is one that does not leave in shambles. He won the Gold Cup just days ago. He redeemed himself against the Netherlands during a friendly in November of 2014. He brought back a team that was on the brink of not qualifying for the 2014 World Cup and not only played great, but better than anyone expected Mexico to play. He should hold his head high.

Him leaving is detrimental. The chemistry of the team would still exist amongst the players but bringing in a new coach during a time when they are set to face the United States for a playoff spot in the Confederations Cup is going to be tricky. A new coach, a new approach, a new tactic and a new way of doing things is something that needs time. It might prove to not be enough time.

Mexico is set to face Argentina and Trinidad & Tobago in September for FIFA friendlies. Their Confederation Cup playoff match against the United States will take place on October 9th in Pasadena, Ca.

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