Motivation Quote by Lorrie Fair

It lands like a shrug, but it’s really a flex: a veteran athlete refusing the easy mythology of “the greatest game.” Lorrie Fair’s line pushes back on the highlight-reel habit of flattening sport into a single, definitive peak. The bluntness of “I don’t know if you could” isn’t indecision so much as discipline. She’s asserting that a 90-minute match is too messy, too contingent, too stitched together by luck, refereeing, weather, adrenaline, and opponent mistakes to be packaged as pure excellence.

The phrasing matters. “Take a whole 90 minutes” sounds almost logistical, like you’re trying to carry something heavy without dropping it. That’s the subtext: sustained performance is the real standard, and even then, perfection is rare. By refusing to crown a “best,” she also protects the team from the emotional hangover that follows big wins. Calling something your best invites complacency, or worse, a narrative trap where every future performance is judged against an inflated memory.

There’s an athlete’s professionalism here that reads as quietly political in women’s sports. Fair’s career sits in an era when U.S. women’s soccer was still fighting for serious coverage, and media often wanted tidy, feel-good superlatives. Her restraint insists on expertise over spectacle: the game isn’t a fairy tale; it’s a body of work. That humility isn’t self-effacement. It’s a demand to be evaluated like a pro, with the long season - and the long career - as the real measure.