On Aug. 8, two days before the U.S. women’s national team won Olympic gold, forwards Sophia Smith, Trinity Rodman, and Mallory Swanson declared themselves as "Triple Espresso" in an interview with NBC Sports.
It was both a public acknowledgement of, and participation in, what had felt like a nationwide effort to bestow upon them a nickname that properly encapsulated the force of their on-field partnership.
“We’re just gonna put that out into the air and let people run with that,” Rodman told NBC anchors Hoda Kotbi and Savannah Guthrie, over Smith’s and Swanson’s held-back laughter.
Before that, the dangerously zealous coffee order conjured images of fleece vest-clad tech startup founders, overworked doctoral students, and lifestyle influencers who posted beautiful images of their worrisome lifestyles. Now, at least within the vibrant ecosystem of global women’s soccer, "Triple Espresso" is becoming synonymous with the three Black American women who scored 10 goals of 12 total for the U.S. in the Olympics, and who seem primed to build a legacy atop this foundation.
More espresso, more shots, more goals, more gold.
Next Match
At 24, 22, and 26 years old, respectively, the individual and collective successes of Smith, Rodman, and Swanson at the Olympics illustrate the inevitability of Black women’s rise in soccer - not just in the U.S., but all over the world. In addition to Nigeria and Zambia, African national teams that continue to impress in their own ways despite their federations’ negligence and attempts to stifle their gifts, countries such as France and Canada - neither strangers to tapping into their Black diasporas and employing diverse rosters - are normalizing their inclusion of Black and other players of color.
And that’s to say nothing of Brazil and Colombia, whose Afro-descendent populations are, like the U.S., a direct result of the Transatlantic slave trade and are thus some of the largest in the world, and whose national soccer teams have historically reflected that ancestry. In the U.S., it’s become clear that the game has become increasingly melanated over the last decade.
At the 2012 London Olympics, only two of the 18 players named to the official USWNT roster were Black, along with one of the four alternates.
That figure increased to three at the 2016 Games in Rio de Janeiro; all of those players made the 18-player squad. The U.S. women’s national team clawed its way to a bronze medal in 2021, with three Black Olympians in the 18-player group, and another three on the alternate list.
By contrast, eight of the 18 players named to the 2024 Olympic roster were Black - equal to the total number named to those the full rosters of the previous three Olympics - with one listed as an alternate. And because midfielder Croix Bethune was activated and came off the bench for the U.S. in France, she also received a gold medal along with Smith, Rodman, Swanson, Crystal Dunn, Casey Krueger, Naomi Girma, Jaedyn Shaw, and Lynn Williams.
As the world’s game, it seems obvious, if not imperative, that soccer reflects the races, ethnicities, and cultures of the people who play it. And while there’s no official calculus to measure how much more beautiful the game is as a result, there are still some reliable metrics.
For example, anyone who’s ever transcended at a pick-up game where multiple languages are being lobbed back and forth across the field understands the correlation between diversity and fun. There’s also the entertainment factor: at the Paris Olympics, six of the seven top goal scorers were Black and came from three different countries: Marie-Antoinette Katoto of France topped the list with seven, followed by Swanson and Zambian striker Barbra Banda with four; Rodman and Smith netted three goals each, along with German forward Lea Schüller.
Banda became the first player in Olympic history to score three hat tricks at the tournament. Nigeria nearly held World Cup champions Spain to a scoreless draw in the group stage. Black USWNT players shone off the field, too.
Rodman turned her pink braids into a main character, as Girma, Rodman, and Swanson played a meaningful role in nudging Alyssa Naeher, one of the steeliest goalkeepers in the world, a fraction of an inch closer to being a hugger. Dunn (who herself rocked a set of stormy lavender braids throughout the Games) and Krueger did their part to raise the ceiling even higher on the possibilities for elite athletes who’ve given birth and returned to work — particularly Black mothers, who are statistically at significantly greater risk of maternal mortality and more likely to be affected by other serious pregnancy complications.
These blazed trails are the new normal. The presence of Black and other players of color across the women’s game will only add texture and dimensions to the joy of the game. In the slew of celebratory photos the USWNT posed for from the confetti-covered Parc des Princes stadium in Paris, one will always stand out, particularly to those who yearn to see themselves reflected in the game they love: lined up onstage in their blue warmups, pleated gold medals hanging from their necks, are all nine of the team’s Black players.
'Triple Espresso' might refer to only three of them, but the photo reinforces the notion that Blackness itself is a prism. That just as espresso can be tempered with water; layered with steamed, frothed, foamed, or condensed milk; deepened with cocoa; spiked with rum, vodka, bourbon, or whiskey; there are infinite ways to show up as a Black soccer player. Both are made for expansiveness.