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I watched the 2016 Olympic Marathon trials with a bunch of runners at a bar that opened early to host a watch party. Before the race, we were asked to guess which runners would finish in first, second and third place to make the Olympic team. When the guys all listed their top three male choices, I asked, “What about the women?”

One rolled his eyes. Another tapped his pen against the bar. Another couldn’t even come up with three names.

On Sunday, I watched the United States women’s soccer team in the World Cup final at another bar, which was at maximum capacity. The gender split was about 50/50 between men and women. The men weren’t just there to appease their wives or girlfriends, either. Those at my table knew the team’s roster by heart, and when they started a chant of “We Want Lloyd!” in the final minutes of the game, it was out of their love of Carli Lloyd, a local, who most likely played in her last World Cup game — they were big fans. When the U.S. won, the bar went berserk — with two grade-school boys so moved that they whipped off their shirts to stand on their chairs and cheer.