World Cup Fever

Now that I’m on a Det, and away from Head Quarters Company, I suffer fewer group runs and play a lot more sports. This morning was the first time we played soccer instead of football. Call it World Cup Fever.

The battalion Operations Officer, S3, was in my office after hours.



S3: Do you like soccer?

EA2: I love soccer. You know why? Because when we play football, it doesn’t matter that I’m open and that I can catch the ball, no one throws to me. But in soccer I can just take it. And I like it.

S3:Yea, I can tell. I saw you this morning and you looked like you were really enjoying yourself.

EA2: I was.

S3: Yea. I love soccer, too.



Of twenty-four personnel on my Det I am one of two women. And every time we play football, we’re always open. No one covers us, because no one throws to us. And we can catch. And we can pass. Sure, they’re short passes, but that’s how you win the game.

And that’s the way it goes. For some reason there is a misconception that women in the military get anything they want. And while it’s true that we do catch a few breaks here and there the allowances are trivial and I would gladly give them up if it meant that the guys would think to pass me the ball.

Every morning I pull my hair back into a tight bun and get dressed in a boxy green comofage uniform and black steel-toed boots. I am stripped of my femininity, of my identity. But when I walk into our spaces the only thing they see is a woman. And to them it’s not a good thing. So it’s really the worst of both worlds: all I want is to feel like a girl, and I can't, while all they want is for me to be a guy, and I'm not. It leads to a lot of discomfort on both ends.

But this morning, after I stole the ball from a guy on the other team, I scored a goal. It felt really good.