“Maggie. Are you saying you like her now?”
I snort, and the back of the van goes ghostly quiet. We have an audience. “I donot.”
Callum scoffs out a laugh. “Except that you’re wondering about her.”
“Well, this is a turn I didn’t see coming,” Roman says from just behind me.
“I don’t like her. Everyone in this car knows how much I hate McCrae.” I lean forward and turn up the radio.
“Fine,” Callum says over the noise of the pop song. “You wondering about her just seems a little significant.”
“You’re crazy, man,” I say, but when I pull a breath in through my nostrils, I swear I smell pears. Honey and pears, just like Vovó used to make. Just like when Maggie McCrae pushed herself right up next to me and stole that ball from me.
Nine
Leaningagainst the headboard of my bed, I set my fingers to my laptop keyboard and type “Maggie McCrae.”
My screen fills with photos and information that makes me sit up a little straighter. I honestly didn’t know what this search would produce. There’s a photo of Maggie in her official referee uniform, but also one of her in a jersey. A U.S. soccer jersey.
“I knew it,” I say to myself. Of course the woman has experience with soccer. That’s a given. But until I saw her in action, I had no idea what level. That’s when I knew there was more to her story.
I scan through each word, top to bottom, left to right.
Maggie McCrae
Referee
American U.S. soccer player
28 years
5’8”
Forward for four years at UCLA Bruins.
Forward for the U-23 U.S. National Team for three years; referee for top-level minor leagues for four years.
I linger on photos of Maggie in uniform, playing, hair back, eyes bright, legs taut, then scroll on to the Wikipedia blurb.
Margaret (Maggie) McCrae, a retired American soccer player and now professional referee, led her team in goals for three years straight. McCrae was considered one of the most promising young players to come out of the Bruins program, as well as the U.S. developmental system. She received a call-up to the Women’s National Team but did not accept; instead, McCrae announced her retirement from competitive play.
Following retirement, McCrae pursued certification through the U.S. Soccer Referee Program and has been officiating for the minor leagues ever since.
“Why would she do that?” I say to myself. She quit just when things were starting to get good. She was going places.
I scroll down, past links to more players on the U-23 team, to a set of three videos.
Two hours later, I’m deep in the rabbit hole of Maggie’s soccer career. Every video brings up a new set of links, and I end up watching video after video of Maggie McCrae in action.
By the time I shut my computer, I am mesmerized, as well as utterly confused by her career decisions. Why would she quit playing? Why would she give so much up? To become an official. It’s not that I don’t respect the job—they have to be fit and knowledgeable—but she had the chance to play professional soccer. She wasn’t injured—nothing in any of the information provided indicated an injury. In fact, the press seemed as baffled by her sudden retirement as I am right now. Twenty-three years old, her whole life ahead of her, and she decides she’s done.
I’ve had to work so hard to get where I am. Vovó sacrificed and worked to get me here. It isn’t easy to make a national team, a professional team, and she just gave it up.
Callum peersdown at his phone. Sweat drips from his hair, and he pushes it back and out of his eyes, his focus still on the screen.
I pull my device from my locker, still in my practice jersey, my teammates bustling around me.
Me: How did McCrae get in contact with you about the Little League mentoring day?
