‘Let Jessie have it.’ How Christine Sinclair’s penalty kick plan helped Canada conquer U.S. at Tokyo Olympics

Playing The Long Game: A Memoir by Christine Sinclair, an Olympic soccer gold medallist and the top international goal scorer of all time, and Stephen Brunt features stories from her playing career and life. This excerpt is from the chapter: We’re changing the colour of the medal.

So here we go again, nine years after the highs and lows of the London Olympics.

Honestly, most times we play the U.S., we need to perform at our absolute best and then hope that they have a not-great day in order to have a chance to beat them. But heading into that game, the dynamic felt different. We felt different, but they did too, I think.

It was obvious that there were some holes in their team. There were some opportunities to exploit that we hadn’t seen before, especially in how our midfield matched up with theirs. They seemed to rely almost entirely on individual talent, which to us made them not as dangerous as they’d been in the past.

We stayed in the same hotel as they did before the semifinal game and wondered whether they were enjoying themselves as much as we were, given all the restrictions. My teammates and I were having a blast, having Mario Kart tournaments and playing Catan.

Given the history, all the pressure was on them. For us, it was an opportunity.

We knew they were beatable. We knew that the way we played fit perfectly against them, our strength in defence countering their offence. There was no fear.

I remember looking at players who were with our team in London, like Desiree Scott and Sophie Schmidt, and thinking, we’ve waited nine years for this game. It was the same stage, in the same tournament, but we were convinced the outcome was going to be different. We were so confident.

And then the game happened.

In the first five or 10 minutes, they were all over us. They were still the same old U.S. team. All those little things that we’d thought we’d noticed didn’t matter.

But we never felt overwhelmed. We slowly started to shift the momentum our way, handling their pressure and taking the steam out of their offensive game. They weren’t creating many chances. We weren’t creating many chances either, but at least we were not allowing them to play the way they wanted to play.

Steph (Labbé) made a couple of huge saves. And then the Americans’ starting goalkeeper, Alyssa Naeher, got hurt and had to leave the game. Things seemed to be breaking our way.

I still don’t know how Deanne Rose got on the end of that ball in the box. It wasn’t planned that way. She’s just the fastest human, and she ran it down. There was a collision with the American defender. At first, the ref awarded a goal kick to the U.S. But we knew that wasn’t right. The ball had gone out off of an American player.

It would be decided by VAR, a relatively new tool in the game.

It felt like the review took forever. And then we got the signal: PK for us.

Jessie Fleming knew that kick was hers.

The day before the game, I had gone up to (coach Bev Priestman) and told her, plainly, that if there was a penalty to be taken, I didn’t need to take it. I think people just assume I want to take them all. I don’t.

“I’ve never seen Jessie miss,” I told Bev. “If she wants to take it, let Jessie have it.”

Jessie wanted it.

To be clear, we knew before the game what was supposed to happen in this situation. There was no surprise. There was no argument on the field. There was no, “I want it — no I want it.”

When we came back out after the VAR, the ball was sitting in the eighteen-yard box. I grabbed it. We had been taught that it helps when a teammate is the one who gives you the ball before a penalty kick. If you allow the opponent to hand you the ball, it gives them the chance to try to get into your head. They can even drop the ball or say something to distract you. We didn’t want any of that happening.

I know some people interpreted me handing Jessie the ball as a passing of the torch. Sometimes people read too much into things.

After the kick, Mike, our goalkeeper coach, came up to me. “That was class,” he said.

“What do you mean?” I asked him.

“You should have seen the panic on the faces of the U.S. staff when you picked up the ball and handed it to Jessie.”

They’d assumed I was taking the PK and they had obviously done their research on me. When I passed the ball to Jessie, they didn’t know what to do. Their goalkeeper had no idea where Jessie was going to shoot.

When Jessie’s kick went in, I felt a huge sense of relief — even though I’d really had no doubts!

I looked at the clock and saw that we had about 20 minutes to defend the lead. And I knew we were about to face the onslaught of onslaughts, because the U.S. team doesn’t just lie down.

Here it comes.

We fought them off and fought them off, and Steph came up big again and again in goal.

Finally, the three whistles. Game over.

Oh my God, it was instant tears.

Two thoughts went through my head all at once: we had finally beaten the Americans, and we were finally going to be playing for Olympic gold.

The feeling of being on the winning side of a game like that, at last, was just indescribable. Looking back now, it almost felt like we’d won a gold medal right there, because we had knocked the Americans out.

The vets — me, Erin (McLeod), Sophie, Alyssa, Steph and Desi — stayed on that field and took photos for half an hour after the match. It was incredible, knowing we were going to get a chance to play for gold, knowing what we had just done and who we had beaten. And, yeah, also enjoying a little bit of revenge.

The Americans always win. They’re always No. 1.

I don’t want to sound like I’m bashing the U.S. team — they’ve done so much for women’s sport by pushing standards, by pushing for equal pay with the men. They’ve been forerunners not only on the field but also off the field. I have so much respect for them, and I’m friends with so many of them.

But, man, when you put on your national team jersey, you want to win.

It was fun going back to the hotel that night, with the shoe finally on the other foot. It felt so nice.

And then it was time to win a gold medal.

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