Women’s World Cup was more than a game for Japan
As Japan’s Saki Kumagai prepared for her decisive penalty kick in the shootout that ended Sunday’s Women’s World Cup final, a wounded nation held its breath.
For Japan, this was more than a soccer game. It was an opportunity to prove on a global stage that a country devastated four months ago by a killer earthquake, tsunami and nuclear catastrophe still possessed the heart and soul of a fierce competitor.
The dramatic final kick, defeating a taller and stronger U.S. team in a nail-biting seesaw contest, established Japan as the first Asian country to win the women’s World Cup.
But it also allowed a beaten-down nation to declare to the world that it was no longer just a victim.
“This is a big psychological lift for all of us,” said Ai Asada, 26, tears in her eyes, as she celebrated the final penalty kick at the Footnik sports bar in central Tokyo.
Nearby, Saori Shiratori was sobbing. She had traveled an hour by train to watch, and she wasn’t disappointed. “At a time when things are going so bad for Japan, this news makes me so happy,” she said. “We’ve made history.”
Despite a 3:45 a.m. starting time in Japan, eager fans streamed into bars and community centers across the nation to view the telecast from Frankfurt, Germany. At the Footnik, more than 100 spectators packed in several hours early to watch on a large movie screen.
Twice the Americans went ahead, and Asada winced and hid her face in a Japanese national team towel. Then, when Japan came back to tie it once and then again, she threw her hands into the air, screaming and hugging her boyfriend and high-fiving everyone around her.
As the penalty shootout took place, the sun was rising over Tokyo. Moments later, Kumagai sliced her kick past U.S. goalkeeper Hope Solo, giving Japan a game-ending 3-1 advantage in the extra session.
It was a new day — and the celebration was on.
“We’re No. 1 in the world,” said one celebrant in a straw hat outside the sports bar, smoking a cigarette and shaking his head. “It’s outrageous.”
The feeling was similar at the soccer stadium in Germany, where a breathless team captain Homare Sawa indirectly evoked her country’s response to the March 11 disaster that left more than 25,000 dead or missing.
“We ran and we ran,” said Sawa, who scored the goal that tied the score at 2-2 and was the tournament’s top scorer with five goals. “We were exhausted, but we kept running.”
With each game, Japan’s calamity was never far from players’ minds.
To motivate them, coach Norio Sasaki had shown photos of devastated towns along Japan’s northeastern coast that were washed away by the tsunami. The players knew that each goal, each victory — over such soccer powerhouses as Sweden, Germany and, finally, the U.S., which it had not defeated in 25 previous contests — would give people back home more hope, a dash more courage.
Along with the superstars, there also were the players who served as emotional reminders of the national rebuilding task that remains: Team member Aya Sameshima worked at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant that was crippled by the tsunami.
The team — known as Nadeshiko Japan, after a pink carnation signifying the psychological toughness of women — produced a banner for the World Cup series thanking the world for its support after the disaster.
And then its members played their hearts out.
Still, soccer fans had wondered: Would the team fold, put up a valiant fight but in the end genuflect before the better squad?
At each critical juncture, the players rose to the occasion. With just eight minutes to go in regulation and the U.S. team up 1-0, ready to win its third World Cup title, the Japanese scored to even the count, sending the match into extra time.
There, the scenario played out again: The U.S. was three minutes from victory in extra time before Sawa came up with an unlikely goal that propelled the already exhausting match to penalty kicks.
In the shootout, the U.S. surprisingly missed its first three kicks, allowing the Japanese a relatively easy path to victory.
At the Footnik, people watched with hope and, to some extent, disbelief.
“The U.S. was so much stronger. I thought we had a good team, but I didn’t think there was any chance we would win,” said Yuri Itoga, 36.
“When we won, I went crazy and hugged everyone I could,” she said. “This ecstatic feeling is a lot more intense because we suffered the disaster in March. It makes me feel like I can’t just sit around and do nothing.
“I’m on such a high right now I don’t think I can go to bed.”
Special correspondent Hall reported from Tokyo and Times staff writer Glionna from Seoul.
