The original OO.S.A — ‘85 USWNT

This morning, at 4am, I wrote a story about Caitlin Clark—about pay equity, a mistake I made as a CMO, and how I woke up to it, confronted it, and made it right.

That story, thanks to Jim Galovski —a great guy I don’t even know—landed in front of someone incredible: Michelle Akers

(By the way, Jim—wow. You probably have no idea how your small gesture created such a ripple effect. Truly grateful. Lunch at the Thai place is on me.)

Michelle Akers. The Michelle Akers.

Now, she might not be a name everyone knows today, especially if you weren’t alive or paying attention in the ‘80s and ‘90s, but let me put it this way: if Megan Rapinoe is the icon of this generation, Michelle Akers was the Megan Rapinoe of hers—a trailblazer, a game-changer, and a legend in every sense of the word.

She isn’t just one of the best women’s soccer players of all time; she’s one of the best soccer players, period. A two-time FIFA Women’s World Cup champion, Michelle led the U.S. Women’s National Team to victory in 1991, scoring ten goals in that tournament alone (yes, ten!) and claiming the Golden Boot. Then in 1999, she helped secure another World Cup win in one of the most iconic tournaments in sports history.

Oh, and she also won a gold medal at the 1996 Atlanta Olympics. As if that weren’t enough, in 2002, she was named FIFA Female Player of the Century—a title she shared with China’s Sun Wen.

And she did all of this while battling chronic fatigue syndrome, showing a level of resilience that redefined what it means to be an athlete.

Michelle paved the way for today’s stars. She broke down barriers and set a standard that players like Megan Rapinoe and Caitlin Clark have been able to build upon. She dreamed for all of us before we even knew we could dream, and she inspired an entire generation of athletes, fans, and leaders.

And now—this part still has me floored—Michelle reached out to me. An hour after I published my story, just moments after Jim shared it, Michelle Akers, the original GOAT of women’s soccer, asked me for help.

Me.

Michelle Akers is asking me for help.

I’m still processing it. It’s surreal, humbling, and incredible all at once.

So of course, I reply back to Michelle: Sign me up! I mean, how could I not? I have no idea what she wants yet, but honestly, I can’t imagine there’s anything I wouldn’t say yes to.

Right? Is it just me?

An hour later, we’re on the phone.

Now, fast friends is a phrase I use a lot because, let’s face it, I have some pretty awesome people in my life. But with Michelle? This felt different. This wasn’t just fast friends—it was more like fast, fateful friends.

Even though we weren’t together IRL, it felt like we were truly seeing each other—connecting deeply—through our words. And our experiences, as weird as that sounds. No, I am not comparing myself to her…unless you let me.

So after the love fest (me gushing, “Wow, you are amazing—I didn’t even imagine this when I woke up this morning!”), we got to the reason she reached out.

And it turns out, this is a story. A story that needs to be told.

Which, as it happens, is exactly what I do.

So Michelle tells me that the original U.S. Women’s National Team—the 1985 USWNT—is coming up on their 40th anniversary. I say original because, you know that phrase OOSA? Well, guess what? It actually originated with this ‘85 team—before it was borrowed and trademarked by someone else.

(Learned something new, didn’t you? And because I don’t like to deal with the trademark police, I’m spelling it OO.S.A for purposes here…to reflect it’s origen, with Michelle’s team…before it was packaged up for marketing)

You’d think a milestone like this—the 40th anniversary of the team that started it all—would warrant a big celebration, right? A moment to honor the pioneers who paved the way for everything women’s soccer is today?

Well, wrong you are. Turns out, no one seems to care much, which is kind of unbelievable…unless you follow women’s sports.

Then you might just believe it.

And that’s the part that really sticks with me. This team deserves more—so much more.

There are reasons for this, and it kind of sounds like that movie A League of Their Own. Different sport, sure, but bear with me. Like the Rockford Peaches, this team—the 1985 USWNT—was the first. The original. Michelle Akers herself scored the first goal in U.S. women’s soccer history. Think about that: the first goal, the spark that lit the fire for everything that came after.

And then…well, then the momentum didn’t continue. For reasons I honestly don’t understand, things happened—or, more accurately, didn’t happen. The team that started it all slowly faded into the background. These phenomenal athletes, these trailblazers, have now, decades later, become forgotten.

And not just the team, but the players too. These women, now in their 50s and 60s, are facing a double invisibility—forgotten for being the pioneers they were, and forgotten again because of their age. It’s a painful intersection, one that women’s sports has seen far too many times before.

Forgotten so much so that if they want to attend a soccer match —their sport—until recently they have to buy their own tickets, just like anyone else. And they aren’t just anyone else.

And let me be clear: these players aren’t living in sprawling mansions built on lucrative contracts or endorsement deals. They’re going to chiropractors and doctors, dealing with the long-term injuries of their playing days. They’re navigating a healthcare system that doesn’t care who scored the first goal in women’s soccer history, pulling teeth on Medicaid.

I’m not exaggerating. This is 100 percent true.

These women deserve better. They gave us the foundation, and we’ve let them fall through the cracks. It’s time to change that.

I don’t want to bitch and moan too much—you know that’s not my style. But I’m sharing this with you so that you can get a little pissed off.

Because that? That’s where the magic happens.

When that anger turns into inspiration.

That is my style exactly.

That’s what started me writing: being pissed off, becoming inspired. And that path? It led me to Michelle Akers.

It led me to this moment, right here, right now.

So try it. I fully recommend you have what I’m having right now—this fire, this drive, this purpose.

Because it feels in-fucking-credible.

Try it. Rn. Let’s all put our voices together and shout OO.S.A!—the original one, from Michelle’s team.

She’s looking for someone to help get the recognition her ‘85 team deserves. To rewrite—or rather, correct—history and ensure their contributions are accurately reflected.

Maybe it’s a podcast.

Maybe it’s a documentary.

Maybe it’s as simple as a ticket to a match.

Maybe it’s health insurance.

Maybe it’s brands that care about women, even those that are forgotten past the age of 40. (which is kinda stupid, I can say that as a CMO. Women over 40 have a purchasing power that women in their 20’s don’t.)

So like, maybe it’s all the things that, quite honestly, men’s sports have figured out. Why fight it when they figured out the model already. Let’s just adopt it!

This OO.S.A! isn’t just a cheer—it’s a rallying cry.

It’s a demand to honor the women who built the foundation, to finally give them the celebration and respect they’ve earned, and to make sure their legacy gets the spotlight it always deserved.