Good riddance, Megan Rapinoe – you smug, pink-haired prima donna
A miracle happened Saturday night: I felt sorry for Megan Rapinoe.
Yes, when the world’s most irritating sportsman (I refuse to say “sportswoman” about someone who refuses to accurately say what a woman is) collapsed in torn-Achilles agony in just the third minute of her last-ever professional soccer game, a tiny twinge of empathy enveloped me.
How cruel sports can be, I thought, even to its best exponents.
But it didn’t take long for this spectacularly graceless woke queen to snap me out of my momentary heartfelt relapse and say something that pissed off me — and most of America — yet again.
“I’m not a religious person or anything,” Rapinoe said at the post-match presser, “and if there was a God, this is proof that there isn’t. This is f–ked up.”
Hmmmm.
I’d say it’s more like definitive proof that God does exist — and shares my view that this arrogant, pink-haired, self-promoting prima donna didn’t deserve the glorious send-off she so desperately craved.
In fact, Rapinoe’s whole retirement, culminating in her team OL Reign losing the NWSL Final to Gotham FC after her injury — which meant Rapinoe ended her 13-season career without winning a league title — has been a complete disaster.
This summer, she was one of the chief culprits in the worst-ever USWNT side to play in a World Cup, failing to get past the round-of-16 for the first time after Rapinoe ballooned her crucial penalty kick over the bar.
“This is like a sick joke to me personally,” she whined afterward. “This is dark comedy.”
Comedy? I don’t think anyone saw the funny side of her dreadful performance, aside from we England soccer fans who remembered her unctuous gloating whenever she beat us.
Not for the first time in recent years, Rapinoe’s gigantic ego was exposed for writing checks her once-great but now-fading talent couldn’t cash.
Following that World Cup humiliation, she was asked if there was one memory that stood out from her entire career as an international footballer, and replied it was her battle for equal pay, almost fainting with self-congratulation as she gushed: “To know we’ve used our really special talent to do something that’s really changed the world forever, that means the most to me.”
As I wrote at the time, that was peak Rapinoe: annoyingly self-aggrandizing and all about the money.
And as for her being the flag-bearer for equality, permit me to snort with derision.
It was the same Rapinoe who left it until her retirement to demand biological males play in the USWNT, and said it was “transphobic” for anyone to suggest they might be “taking a ‘real’ woman’s place,” even though that’s exactly what they would be doing.
It’s hard to imagine anything more damaging to women’s equality.
If you don’t agree, imagine if Lionel Messi suddenly identified as a woman and wanted to play in USWNT. In that eventuality, would it be “transphobic” for me to say it might irrevocably ruin the integrity of women’s soccer?
Rapinoe’s insufferable penchant for such rank hypocrisy is impressively consistent.
For example, she’s portrayed herself as one of America’s most zealous and uncompromising anti-racism campaigners, leading the national team in taking a knee against racial injustice, refusing to visit the White House when Donald Trump was president because she viewed him as an intolerant racist, and signing a letter supporting a Black Lives Matter campaign to defund the police.
Yet in 2011, she tweeted, “U look asian with those closed eyes!” to Hawaiian-born former US Olympic soccer player Natasha Kai.
Racism is terrible for thee but not for me!
Rapinoe also drones on ad nauseam about LGBTQ rights, but one of the main sponsors of the last Women’s World Cup was Qatar Airways, the official government-owned airline of a country where it’s illegal to be gay.
Did fearless Megan make a stand for her gay community and refuse to play or accept money from people who criminalize her sexuality?
Nope! She played — albeit very badly — and cashed the check!
But it’s not just her brazen hypocrisy that’s so irksome.
It’s also her stupendous conceit and supercilious disregard for people she deems less important.
There’s an old 2019 video clip that recently went viral of her signing a young boy’s ball at the ESPY Awards without even giving him eye contact.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen a star behave with such disinterested contempt toward a young fan.
Yet it didn’t surprise me.
“We’re gracious and we’re humble,” she once laughably claimed, when in reality, she’s proven herself to be singularly graceless, devoid of humility, and the most obnoxious, narcissistic piece of work to ever come out of American sport.
That’s why my initial sympathy toward her for what happened Saturday night has been replaced by a belief that it was an entirely fitting end to her career.
And given she thinks what happened to her was somehow all God’s fault, let me offer her some biblical words of advice from Proverbs 16:18:
“Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall.”