Tim Howard - The Keeper: The Unguarded Story of Tim Howard Young Readers Edition

The game I play has a different name in the US than it does in the rest of the world. Im one of the few people who uses both. When Im playing for my club team, Everton, in Liverpool, England, I refer to it as football, but when Im playing for the US National Team I call it soccer. In this book, I have decided to go with soccer.

Courtesy of Everton Football Club

TIM HOWARD is the goalkeeper for Everton in the English Premier League and the U.S. mens national team. He previously played for the MetroStars in Major League Soccer and for the storied club Manchester United. In July 2014, he broke the record for most saves (fifteen) in a World Cup game. He also works as a soccer broadcaster on NBCs weekly coverage of the EPL.

ALI BENJAMINs work has appeared in print, online, and on television. She lives with her family in rural Massachusetts.

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Front cover, back cover, and poster photos
courtesy of Matt West/isiphotos.com
Cover design by Joe Merkel

For my mom, who gave me everything,
and for Alivia and Jacob, who are my everything

ARENA FONTE NOVA
SALVADOR, BRAZIL
JUST BEFORE THE USA-BELGIUM WORLD CUP GAME
July 1, 2014

EVEN FROM THE LOCKER ROOM, I CAN HEAR THE RUMBLING OF the crowd. The drumbeats. The chants: USA! USA!

I believe that we will win. Thats the chant that our fans have been cheering at our games. Its become an anthem for us.

And I do. I believe.

I got ready for this game the way I do for every game I play. I have a lot of pregame rituals. Whether its a small gamelike a friendly matchor a big one, like todays World Cup game, I do things the exact same way every time. I get dressed in the same wayI put on my shin guards, socks, and shoes, right leg first, then left. I tape my fingers in the same precise pattern. I touch thingsthe field, the ballin the exact same way. I warm up the same way.

Its the routine I used during my first match for Everton, the team I play for in England. Five hundred games later, the routine still works.

It might seem crazy to everyone else, but to me, it makes all the sense in the world. Its the best way I know to feel calm and in control.

After all, I cant know whats coming during a game. I only know how to get myself into a place where I feel ready for it.

Our coach, Jrgen Klinsmann, moves through the locker room. Hes friendly. Upbeat. He claps players on the back, speaking to them one at a time.

Near me, Clint Dempsey pulls his yellow captains armband over his bicep. His hardened jawline, his steely eyes, tell me all I need to know: its on.

Theres a poster on the wall of the locker room. Its a close-up image of a bald eagle staring straight ahead. The words next to it:

WE CAN AND WE WILL.
ONE NATION, ONE TEAM.

Something is in the air. I can feel it.

I believe that we will win.

I believe that we have everything we need this time.

We are strong. We have speed and power and grit.

Weve been beating powerhouse countries for over a decade.

Weve surprised the soccer world again and again and again.

Last night, my teammate Michael Bradley looked me straight in the eye and said the thing that everyone seems to be feeling, but that no one had yet said out loud: I really think we can do this. I really think we can win tomorrow.

I believe that we will win.

Clint Dempsey calls us over. Lets get this done for our country, okay?

Everyone nods. Were pumped now. Okay then. Lets bring it in on three.

We place our hands in a circle. Dempsey counts, and we respond in unison. USA!

We walk out of the locker room. In the hallway, I recognize two of my Everton teammates: Kevin Mirallas and Romelu Lukaku. They are Belgian, so were not teammates today. Were opponents. We hug, but we all feel the tension.

Belgiums starters line up; we fall into place beside them, our eyes fixed straight ahead.

The referee stands between us, holding the ball.

I ask the ref if I can hold it. Another ritual. I turn it over in my hands, feeling its curve against my keepers gloves.

Then I make the sign of the cross.

Michael bellows, Come on, boys!

Almost there.

Thats when I say the same prayer I always do just before a game, the one for my children: I pray that theyll know how much I love them, that theyll be protected from harm. Saying these wordsthe ones I always sayputs everything in perspective for me. It grounds me.

We walk out of the tunnel, and the stadium erupts.

Its all color and light. The green of the field, the refs neon jersey, the blue stands that surround us. Flags and scarves and banners everywhere, in red, white, and blue.

Its still daytime, but the floodlights are on. When the game is over, it will be nighttime. Everything thats about to happen will already be fading into the past.

When I reach the field, its time to bend down and touch the grass. Then I make the sign of the cross again. Two more rituals.

I believe that we will win.

Somewhere in that roaring crowd sits my mom. Just knowing shes there gives me the old feeling I had as a kid playing recreational soccer. Back then, if I had a rough patch in a game, she moved closer to me. Her presence gave me strength. Its like she was saying, Youll be okay, Tim.

I still feel that message right now.

I know others are watching back in the States, too. My old coach. My dad. My kids. My brother. Some of the guys I played with through the years.

And so many more. Nearly twenty-five million people in the United States watched our last gamefar more than had tuned into either the World Series or the NBA finals. At this very moment, people are crowded into public spaces all over the United States, watching together. Twenty-eight thousand in Chicagos Soldier Field. Twenty thousand in Dallas. Ten thousand in the small city of Bethlehem, Pennsylvania.

Theyre out there now, wearing Uncle Sam hats, Stars and Stripes T-shirts, their faces painted red, white, and blue. Theyre out there for us.

I believe that we will win.

When the whistle blows, I cross myself for the third time. The final ritual.

We can do this. I am certain of it. We can win today. And if we do, if we advance to the quarterfinals, it will be the greatest thing Ive ever done for my country.

This is going to be the game of my life.

I WAS BORN ON MARCH 16, 1979, AND RAISED IN NEW JERSEY. Thats where my goalkeeping got started.

I spent my childhood following my older brother, Chris, around Northwood Estates, our apartment complex in North Brunswick. Northwood Estates sounds fancylike it might be filled with rolling hills and English gardens. Actually, these were plain apartment buildings, wedged between two highways, a short distance from a pizza parlor and not much else.

We didnt have much. My mother raised me and Chris in a small, one-bedroom apartmentmy bedroom was supposed to be the dining room, and my brothers room was in the basement. Mom worked long hours in an office that was over an hours drive in each direction. She didnt earn much. She had to scrimp and save to pay for food and rent.