COVENTRY, ENGLAND—Few athletes here are as uncomfortable at being the centre of attention as Christine Sinclair. If she wants people to leave her alone, she needs to be less good at sports.
After drifting aimlessly at the front of the Canadian women’s soccer team for a game and a half, Sinclair finally arrived at this tournament on Saturday with two brilliant goals in a 3-0 win over South Africa.
Her first was a master-class in concentration. After teammate Lauren Sesselmann lofted in a petal-soft cross, Sinclair muscled her marker out of the way and rose to meet it.
Many pros — many very highly paid pros of both sexes — would have stopped to admire the ball as it headed goalward. Many more still would have reacted angrily as the ball hit the underside of the crossbar and appeared to bounce behind the goal-line before caroming back out of the net.
Sinclair did what you’re taught as a child — she followed her shot in and removed all doubt.
There had been a plan in this case. Saturday was her father Joe’s birthday (“I don’t think he’d appreciate me saying,” Sinclair mumbled when asked his age.)
She had a whole celebration planned. Instead, she wheeled away from the net and sprinted to the Canadian bench.
“I was going to do a little heart (sign) for him, and I totally forgot,” Sinclair said, kicking the ground in front of her like a thwarted child.
She forgot the second time, as well, as she barrelled in on the South African net on a breakaway and bent an achingly patient shot around the ’keeper. That second tally was the 139th goal of her career — third most in the history of the international women’s game.
“She’s a special player,” coach John Herdman said afterward.
A series of head coaches have been hitting that gong for years. And it’s true. She is. The problem with the Canadian women’s soccer team is that there are no other special players, too often leaving Sinclair isolated, underserved and demonstrably frustrated. Sesselmann’s fine cross broke that barren spell. It also may have changed everything.
When Sinclair plays as she played for that final half-hour here on Saturday, Canada is a completely different team. The entire squad exhales. There is a new, ominous looseness about them.
“She calms us down when we need to get calm,” teammate Desiree Scott said afterward. Christine Sinclair — the soccer whisperer.
Getting Sinclair to expand on anything is a chore. That little Nazi creep from Raiders of the Lost Ark could have spent weeks sweating her and come away only with a notebook’s worth of “Um. Yeahs.”
She doesn’t need to be a talker to lead. She needs to be a scorer. In order to do that, everyone around her must take more responsibility. They started doing that Saturday.
“In terms of pressure on myself, it’s not the same,” Sinclair said, staring at the ground.
Sunday morning, the team will wake up late and head to Herdman’s hometown, Newcastle. In all likelihood, Canada is probably through already — eight of the twelve teams will advance.
Beating their final opening round opponent, Sweden, next Tuesday (9:30 a.m. EDT) would seal things. The Swedes are very like Canada, but deeper and more experienced. A win against Sweden would remove world-number-one U.S.A. from their early playoff mix.
“I’d love to play the States in the quarter-finals,” Herdman said, smiling wildly.
No, no, don’t listen to John Herdman. He’s over-excited himself. Nobody should want to play the U.S. at that point. Canada has dropped in recent times from the top tier of international sides. Sweden is a different league. The U.S. is a league above that.
However, if Sinclair’s on point and involved, that strategic ground is back in play.
Perhaps we should make something of the attendance of chef de mission, Mark Tewksbury, at the game. On the first full day of competition, Tewksbury abandoned the Olympic Village and made the hour-long trek to Coventry.
As they played the last few notes of O Canada, Tewksbury was bopping up and down in the stands, fist pumping in the air.
The Canadian team, standing perhaps 100 feet away on the field, began giddily imitating him. A few minutes later, Tewksbury was pogoing in place again, waving the Maple Leaf like a man trying to put out a fire in his lap.
You may think you love Canada, but your love is a paltry thing compared to Mark Tewksbury’s. He and Canada are still in the making-out-in-public phase.
After it was over, Tewksbury was leaned over the railing above the Canadian bench like the world’s most pleasant stalker.
Maybe he knows something. Maybe this is finally the moment in which Canada takes advantage of the finest female team athlete we have ever produced.
From this point in, it’s Christine Sinclair’s tournament. Everyone else’s job is to make sure she has the space to enjoy it.
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After drifting aimlessly at the front of the Canadian women’s soccer team for a game and a half, Sinclair finally arrived at this tournament on Saturday with two brilliant goals in a 3-0 win over South Africa.
Her first was a master-class in concentration. After teammate Lauren Sesselmann lofted in a petal-soft cross, Sinclair muscled her marker out of the way and rose to meet it.
Many pros — many very highly paid pros of both sexes — would have stopped to admire the ball as it headed goalward. Many more still would have reacted angrily as the ball hit the underside of the crossbar and appeared to bounce behind the goal-line before caroming back out of the net.
Sinclair did what you’re taught as a child — she followed her shot in and removed all doubt.
There had been a plan in this case. Saturday was her father Joe’s birthday (“I don’t think he’d appreciate me saying,” Sinclair mumbled when asked his age.)
She had a whole celebration planned. Instead, she wheeled away from the net and sprinted to the Canadian bench.
“I was going to do a little heart (sign) for him, and I totally forgot,” Sinclair said, kicking the ground in front of her like a thwarted child.
She forgot the second time, as well, as she barrelled in on the South African net on a breakaway and bent an achingly patient shot around the ’keeper. That second tally was the 139th goal of her career — third most in the history of the international women’s game.
“She’s a special player,” coach John Herdman said afterward.
A series of head coaches have been hitting that gong for years. And it’s true. She is. The problem with the Canadian women’s soccer team is that there are no other special players, too often leaving Sinclair isolated, underserved and demonstrably frustrated. Sesselmann’s fine cross broke that barren spell. It also may have changed everything.
When Sinclair plays as she played for that final half-hour here on Saturday, Canada is a completely different team. The entire squad exhales. There is a new, ominous looseness about them.
“She calms us down when we need to get calm,” teammate Desiree Scott said afterward. Christine Sinclair — the soccer whisperer.
Getting Sinclair to expand on anything is a chore. That little Nazi creep from Raiders of the Lost Ark could have spent weeks sweating her and come away only with a notebook’s worth of “Um. Yeahs.”
She doesn’t need to be a talker to lead. She needs to be a scorer. In order to do that, everyone around her must take more responsibility. They started doing that Saturday.
“In terms of pressure on myself, it’s not the same,” Sinclair said, staring at the ground.
Sunday morning, the team will wake up late and head to Herdman’s hometown, Newcastle. In all likelihood, Canada is probably through already — eight of the twelve teams will advance.
Beating their final opening round opponent, Sweden, next Tuesday (9:30 a.m. EDT) would seal things. The Swedes are very like Canada, but deeper and more experienced. A win against Sweden would remove world-number-one U.S.A. from their early playoff mix.
“I’d love to play the States in the quarter-finals,” Herdman said, smiling wildly.
No, no, don’t listen to John Herdman. He’s over-excited himself. Nobody should want to play the U.S. at that point. Canada has dropped in recent times from the top tier of international sides. Sweden is a different league. The U.S. is a league above that.
However, if Sinclair’s on point and involved, that strategic ground is back in play.
Perhaps we should make something of the attendance of chef de mission, Mark Tewksbury, at the game. On the first full day of competition, Tewksbury abandoned the Olympic Village and made the hour-long trek to Coventry.
As they played the last few notes of O Canada, Tewksbury was bopping up and down in the stands, fist pumping in the air.
The Canadian team, standing perhaps 100 feet away on the field, began giddily imitating him. A few minutes later, Tewksbury was pogoing in place again, waving the Maple Leaf like a man trying to put out a fire in his lap.
You may think you love Canada, but your love is a paltry thing compared to Mark Tewksbury’s. He and Canada are still in the making-out-in-public phase.
After it was over, Tewksbury was leaned over the railing above the Canadian bench like the world’s most pleasant stalker.
Maybe he knows something. Maybe this is finally the moment in which Canada takes advantage of the finest female team athlete we have ever produced.
From this point in, it’s Christine Sinclair’s tournament. Everyone else’s job is to make sure she has the space to enjoy it.
More:
Stunning photos from the Opening ceremonies
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