In terms of pure, unadulterated American swagger, you'd be hard-pressed to find a more potent example than Megan Rapinoe as she wheeled away towards the corner flag on Sunday. Team USA's star and statesman had just dispatched a penalty kick with the profound self-belief of someone who's Been There and Done That and Just Did It to You Again. And then she trotted off towards the corner, in no rush at all, her teammates sidling up behind her, beaming and screaming, as she performed a swift pirouette and then swept herself into that indelible pose: a shoulder leant back ever so slightly, chin held high with indignant pride, arms outstretched as if to accept the glory, formally, as it rained down from the soaring rafters of the Stade de Lyon.

It was never in doubt. After Rose Lavelle burst through the Netherlands defense with a locomotive run and lashed in a second, the whole planet could be sure of something it had mostly known for weeks: the United States of America would be champions of the world. Accept no substitute. Lavelle represents a bright and enduring future for the American program, but it's Rapinoe who, as the veteran field commander, remains the heart and soul of this glorious present.

Her celebration has already been welcomed to a place amid the rich folklore of Brandi Chastain and the other greats of American soccer. But there was another level of self-assurance to this one. The power of the women's team has been thoroughly established in the last four years, and it felt like Rapinoe was always going to score, that the U.S. was always going to win. She was free to waltz over to the corner, to show up whenever she damn well pleases. The party would start when she arrived.

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After all, it was Rapinoe who preemptively turned down a trip to the White House in the lead-up with obvious subtext: we are going to win, and then we'll decide how we celebrate. The President of the United States responded by calling out the leader of his own nation's team on Twitter, saying Rapinoe should "WIN first before she TALKS! Finish the job!" So she and her teammates finished the job. Have a little of that, Mr. President, who did, in fairness, tweet his congratulations, albeit in less specific terms than his initial volley at Rapinoe.

All in all, it was a stunning response to a vindictive man, but more than that, it will be a crucial weapon in the court of public opinion as this team seeks further victories off the field. The U.S. women are suing for equal pay to match the men's team, not least because their games brought in close to a million more dollars in revenue than the men's between 2016 and 2018. But they are simply asking for equal treatment, a call which has—as it always seems to—been met with vitriol in some quarters. America, however, likes a winner.

After the deed was done, CBS News asked Rapinoe, rocking pink shades to match the hair, what effect a second-straight World Cup victory might have on the women's bid for equality, and on those who oppose the U.S. women using their platform to demand larger conversations about what we allow for—and expect from—women in our society. "It's not good for them, is it?" Rapinoe laughed. Swagger. If nothing else, these women know it's a results business. They had all the pressure. They did all the talking. And then they did all the walking—all over, and over all comers. There's no answer when you're the champs.

"It's not good for them, is it?"

Certainly the president's beef with his own national team is at least as personal as it is symbolic. But the criticism of the team's celebrations when they put Thailand to the sword in their opening game felt like it had wider implications. Yes, they ran up the score. Yes, they celebrated. This is the game at its highest level. There is no mercy rule—something we all were well aware of when Germany's men thrashed Brazil 7-1 on their home turf in 2014. The Brazilians still call that Mineiraço, "the Agony of Mineirão," a testament to its status as one of the great tragedies in that nation's history. Yet the watching world's response was mostly to mock Brazil in its great shame, not to say the Germans were cruel or graceless. Again, this is the great arena. If you falter, you will pay the price.

Alex Morgan takes a sip of tea as she celebrates giving England the American treatment in the semifinal. Catherine Ivill - FIFA Getty Images

It appears to make some people uncomfortable to see women dominate others and enjoy themselves while doing so, even if this is sport at its most essential. We play these games to test ourselves against one another when the consequences are not, at least on paper, life and death. Everyone should be invited to score a ninth goal, if they can, and celebrate like it's the first of their career. Everyone in the game, man or woman, has scored that goal a thousand times in their backyard and wheeled away to celebrate, imagining the roars of the World Cup crowd descending upon them in a warm embrace. The chance to make that real is too precious to pass up in favor of performative calm, even if your opponent must inevitably suffer and some onlookers might arrange their faces into a fit of outrage at the idea women might not constantly fit the paradigm of Nurturing Mom while competing to reach the pinnacle of their careers and stamp their names in the history books.

And that was the final searing note of Rapinoe's pose, arms outstretched, as she scored the opening goal of a World Cup Final. They'd been warned about celebrating; she did the same damn celebration again. They'd been targeted for standing up on their platform and making themselves heard on issues beyond the game; she jumped up on it again.

Rapinoe and her teammates talked the talk, then walked the walk. Charlotte Wilson/Offside Getty Images

The U.S. men failed to qualify for the 2018 tournament at a time of deep division and amid huge hopes that a run could bring Americans together again, at least for 90 minutes at a time. The women did not qualify for the tournament—they won it all. And they did bring the country together, but not around a culture of kumbaya over all else. It was a specific vision of the nation, purposefully non-neutral, as a haven of equal opportunity and relentless patriotic dissent. The U.S. soccer fans, after all, call themselves the American Outlaws. There is no glory in allegiance to one man or woman, no matter how powerful they may be in the moment, and however powerful it may feel to be associated with them. There is no honor in binding yourself to the institutions of the present because that's just the way things are.

We owe allegiance to the American idea, one we craft and refine together in the relentless task of citizenship. "America is not made," said Robert LaFollette, "but is in the making." We have never lived up to our founding values, but our champion women have invited us to try again, and keep trying. Open up your arms and embrace the glory—but only after you've worked your butt off, for years and decades, imagining the moment until you make it real through sheer determination and force of will. That's what the USWNT did.

Jack Holmes Politics Editor Jack Holmes is the Politics Editor at Esquire, where he writes daily and edits the Politics Blog with Charles P Pierce.

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