Joy Fawcett The Quiet Strength, the Ultimate Soccermom

 

Joy Fawcett  The Quiet Strength, the Ultimate Soccermom

She didn’t roar.

She didn’t boast.

She simply was.

A wall at the back,

a calm within the storm,

a mother with cleats on her feet

and fire in her heart.

While others chased headlines,

Joy chased attackers —

and always caught them.

She played every minute

of every major tournament,

like time itself didn’t dare remove her.

And when the world watched '99,

as shirts flew and glory rained,

Joy was there too —

steady as ever,

mother of three,

champion of many.

Not once did she flinch.

Not once did she ask for rest.

She defended like it was instinct,

and loved like it was breath.

“The promoting of women’s soccer never ends,” she said.

“Even if we’re standing in the rain, signing autographs, taking photos.”

And she meant it.

She stood there, in the drizzle of duty,

smiling for little girls with dreams too big for their backpacks.

They didn’t know her name then —

but one day they would.

Because legends don’t beg for attention.

They live in the shadows of banners

and in the footsteps of those they made space for.

Joy Fawcett wasn’t just the ultimate defender.

She was a bridge.

A whisper of grace.

The proof that you could raise a child

and still raise a trophy.

Before hashtags.

Before branding.

Before parity.

There was Joy.

And she played with her whole soul

so others could one day play with theirs.

With admiration and quiet awe,
Kevin – On Women’s Football Tour