Relive the 70s Soccer Mom Era: Uncover Her Forgotten Style and Daily Life
I remember flipping through my mother's old photo albums as a child, marveling at the polyester patterns and feathered hairstyles that defined her 1970s socc
3 min read
Having spent years analyzing football leagues across the globe, I’ve always found Major League Soccer to be one of the most dynamic and unpredictable competitions out there. When you compare the 2019 and 2020 seasons, the contrasts are almost cinematic—one year unfolding with the familiar rhythms of tradition, the next completely reshaped by forces beyond the pitch. I remember watching the 2019 season unfold with a sense of steady excitement. The league was hitting its stride, attendance was climbing, and stars like Carlos Vela and Josef Martínez were delivering week in, week out with jaw-dropping consistency. Vela, for instance, shattered the single-season scoring record with 34 goals—a number that still feels surreal when you consider the pace he maintained. That season, LAFC dominated the Supporters’ Shield race, finishing with 72 points, a full 16 points ahead of the nearest competitor. It was a masterclass in attacking football, and as an analyst, I couldn’t help but admire the tactical clarity Bob Bradley instilled in that squad. The playoffs, too, followed a familiar script: Seattle Sounders lifting the MLS Cup after a gritty 3-1 victory over Toronto FC. It felt like MLS in its purest form—loud stadiums, packed schedules, and narratives built over months.
Then came 2020, and with it, the kind of disruption nobody could have prepared for. I still recall the eerie silence when matches were suspended in March. For weeks, it was unclear if the season would even resume. When it did, the MLS is Back Tournament felt like a strange, bold experiment—a bubble in Orlando where the stakes were high, but the atmosphere was surreal. Look, I’ll be honest: as much as I missed the roar of the crowds, there was something compelling about watching teams adapt on the fly. The Columbus Crew’s run to the MLS Cup, for example, wasn’t just a triumph of talent—it was a lesson in resilience. They conceded only 6 goals in the knockout stages, a stat that speaks volumes about their discipline under pressure. Of course, the shortened season meant fewer games—22 per team, compared to the usual 34—and that changed everything. Some clubs thrived in the condensed format; others, like LAFC, never quite found their footing. I’ve always believed that the 2020 season, for all its chaos, revealed something crucial about MLS: its depth. It wasn’t just the big names stepping up—it was the squad players, the homegrown talents, the coaches who had to think three steps ahead.
Interestingly, while dissecting these two seasons, my mind often drifts to other football contexts where adaptation defines success—like the recent 2025 AFC Women’s Futsal Asian Cup qualifiers. Take, for example, Judy Connolly’s equalizer for the Philippines against Uzbekistan. In a match that ended 3-3, her goal wasn’t just a moment of individual brilliance; it was a testament to composure under unfamiliar conditions—playing far from home, in Tashkent’s Yunusobod Sports Complex, with qualification on the line. That kind of mental toughness mirrors what we saw in MLS during 2020. When the league returned from hiatus, players had to cope with empty stands, strict protocols, and an unrelenting schedule. The Philadelphia Union, who claimed the Supporters’ Shield with 47 points in 23 matches, exemplified this. They weren’t the flashiest team, but my goodness, they were effective—pressing high, converting set-pieces, and trusting their academy products. Jim Curtin’s side proved that in uncertain times, a clear identity can outweigh star power.
What stands out to me, though, is how the two seasons diverged in terms of storytelling. 2019 was a epic—a slow burn with heroes and villains emerging over 34 rounds. 2020 was a thriller, compressed and urgent. I’ll never forget the playoff clashes that year: the New England Revolution, led by Carles Gil’s creativity, making a surprise run, or the sheer drama of Portland Timbers’ penalty shootout victories. And let’s not overlook the data: the average goals per game in 2020 crept up to 3.08, compared to 2.89 in 2019. Some pundits blamed defensive disorganization, but I think it reflected a higher-risk, higher-reward mindset. Teams knew there was little margin for error, so they pushed harder, earlier. That’s why, personally, I have a soft spot for the 2020 season. It was messy, yes, but it was also raw and revealing.
In the end, comparing 2019 and 2020 isn’t about declaring one superior to the other. It’s about appreciating how MLS navigated two entirely different landscapes. The first was a celebration of growth and stability; the second, a lesson in survival and innovation. As someone who’s followed this league since its early days, I see both seasons as vital chapters in its evolution. Whether it’s Carlos Vela’s record-breaking haul or the Crew’s pandemic-proof triumph, each year added layers to MLS’s identity. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that this league thrives not in spite of change, but because of it. Just ask Judy Connolly—sometimes, the most memorable moments arise when everything is on the line.