Soccer Stories with Tierna Davidson: The Moth Podcast

The Moth

Three powerful true stories about soccer explore identity, resilience, and belonging. From overcoming bullying to reclaiming joy in the game, the tales highlight how soccer transcends sport. The episode features athletes and fans sharing deeply personal experiences rooted in the global passion of the World Cup.

Key takeaways

• Soccer fosters belonging for marginalized identities
• Team sports can heal past trauma
• Personal growth often begins with small, brave acts

Transcript preview

At the moth, we're using the power of storytelling to connect teachers with their students. Once a student develops their story and voice, they can show up more authentically in the classroom, their relationships, and beyond. Which is why we developed the moth teacher institute, a annual conference that brings together educators who want to use the moth storytelling techniques in their classrooms and communities. The programming features live storytelling, workshops to help find, shape, and tell your own true personal stories. To learn more and apply, visit the moth.org slash EDU. I'm hosting this episode of the moth podcast. And I'm actually hosting from our national team training camp. So if you hear any shouts or whistles in the background, that's why. With the Men's World Cup in full swing, we wanted to celebrate the shared excitement, the feeling that so many people are invested in one long cross, one sliding tackle, one bicycle kick. That's actually one of my favorite parts about soccer, that it's so global. Whether it's through your club team or playing in international tournaments, you gain so many, you gain so many, you gain so many people in your corner from all over the world. And when you have a World Cup, you get that really intense national rivalry, but you also get this passionate feeling of solidarity, because a World Cup only happens once every four years. As a fan, you wait and anticipate it for what feels like forever. And as a player, you prepare for it for so long, so you get that camaraderie in shared experience across teams. So to celebrate this special moment, we're sharing three stories about soccer. But about everything everything around soccer, competition, the sense of community, and the feeling of discovery you get when you push yourself. Our first storyteller is Patrick McGraw, who told this at a Twin City story slam where the theme was pride. Just as a note in the story, Patrick quotes a homophobic slur that was directed at him. Here's Patrick, live at the mall. 70s and 80s, short story, I agree to hate them. And being a painfully shy kid didn't make things easier. The first time I was called a fagot was in fifth grade. It was because of how I walk and talk. So gender policing at its finest. When I went to junior high, I almost instantly stopped eating in the cafeteria because it was just easier for me to eat alone by my locker than navigate so many people. But my locker, was just down the hall from the gym. And the 10th grade boys, their gym class, ended during my lunch period. They had to wait in this long hallway of the locker room behind the door until the bell rang. But one day a few of them crossed the threshold. They grabbed a fire extinguisher and started spraying me with it, calling me a fagut. To me, these were the people who played sports. So why would I want to play sports with them? So I quit tennis. I stopped golfing. football. football was a non-s. Later when I came out, sports would creep back into my life, running in my 20s, hiking in my 30s, but these were things I could do on my own. Team sports, they didn't reenter my horizon until I moved to Portland in my 40s. The cafe I used to go to to read played all the European soccer matches. And after months of sitting amongst the fans as they watched their favorite teams, I got addicted. And then the strangest feeling. I wanted to play. So I bought a soccer ball. Instinctively I made soccer a solo sport. I used to go down to the garage of my building early in the morning when no one could see me to kick the ball around. So at this point I'm still shy, hardly butch and incredibly insecure. And now to boot I discover I have no coordination. And I flinch. Even just kicking the ball against the wall, so my own kick. As they came back to me, I flinched. Meanwhile, I had started going to the Portland Timbers soccer matches, and during one game after a spectacular goal, I turned to the stranger next to me to give him a high-five. I had never initiated a high-five. I had never initiated a high-five in my life. I took that as a sign that I was ready to join a team. So I said about to find a club that would welcome me as I am, a middle-aged man overweight who's never played soccer and flinches when the ball comes towards him. So I decided on the net repers an inclusive soccer club because one, they were unlikely to call me a fagget. And two, their website said that they welcomed everyone of all abilities. So I secretly scouted them out first, casually riding my bike past one of their practices. Men and women of all ages were playing, but they all looked too good. So I emailed the team asking if they really welcomed everyone, even beginners who had never played. Instantly I got messages back to reassure me that they did. So with butterflies in my stomach, I went to my first step. practice. One of the players hearing that I had never played before took me aside to show me some of the very basics before we joined everyone else in the drills. And then the second half was a scrimmage. My first time playing a game. They put me in as defender, the big guy who probably can't run. pretty quick. And I whiffed, how do you miss a soccer ball? And half the time it was stationary. And I got winded, just running on to the pitch. But I also took a ball to the chest, blocking a cross shot. And I sent it forward flying to the ground just by leaning slightly. That was advice from my fellow defender. He said, you're a big guy. They're gonna bounce right off you. And they did. After a practice, I thank the captain and said my goodbyes. And to me, he said, great job today. We'll see you next week. He was talking to me. I was so ecstatic as I biked away, already looking forward to next week's practice. Only later did it dawn on me. This was an experience I deserved decades earlier. Thank you. That was Patrick McGraw. Patrick is a writer and editor living back in Minnesota where he grew up. Patrick