GOOOOOAAAALLLLLL!

Did you know that the U.S. women’s soccer team kicked some French butt today?  If not, you do not live in my house.  Or on my block.  Because if you did, you would certainly have heard the celebrating.

Saturday, during the crazy game against Brazil, there were tears and high fives and screaming.  When it went into to an overtime shoot out, we went to the neighbors.  It didn’t seem like something you should experience alone. Today, we invited neighbors and friends to watch it here.  If you are in the neighborhood on Sunday, you are most welcome to join us.  You may want to bring earplugs, though.

Just like with last year’s men’s World Cup, the boys can tell you the results of every game for the last three weeks.  They know every name of every player and talk about each of them the exact same way they talk about Donovan and Howard from the men’s team and Paul Pierce from the Celtics.

I’m not surprised that they are bananas about a sporting event.  The boys are nothing if not enthusiastic.  What has surprised me is that they are bananas for a women’s sporting event.  It makes me wonder why professional women’s sports don’t do better.  Is the play inferior, and my boys are too unsophisticated to recognize it?  Or are the rest of us missing out on something?

Before this summer, I would have told anyone with a girl to make sure they didn’t miss the final on Sunday at 2 pm.  That would have been a mistake.

If you have a pulse, tune in Sunday to watch a group of incredible women compete in an all-out battle of talent and strength and will.