Soccer Mom Told Star That Fun Comes First

Donna Kenney-Cash does not consider herself the Ultimate Soccer Mom.

OK, so her son is Landon Donovan, the 20-year-old touted as America’s first soccer prodigy and the player who scored a decisive goal in the World Cup, catapulting the U.S. team to the quarterfinals on Friday.

Sure, she has watched practically every game her son has played since he walked onto the field at age 5. (He scored five goals that first day.) Sure, she drove a minivan, gave out orange slices and juice boxes at hundreds of Saturday games.

She has even chided a few referees, yelling, “Oh, c’mon!” And when Landon scored, she would punch the air and scream, “Good job!”

But here’s proof she is America’s Uber-Soccer Mom: She doesn’t think Lanny should play unless he has fun. And she would have preferred he attend college rather than turn pro at 16.

Kenney-Cash, 48, a teacher for learning-disabled children at a Fontana elementary school, felt she didn’t fit in with other soccer moms. She encouraged her son to play the violin and focus on school.

When Landon was 2, his parents got divorced. While some teammates sported pricey shoes, her boy wore $11 Payless sneakers. (Landon hates her mentioning this because he thinks it sounds like whining.)

It’s not easy being the mother of a soccer virtuoso. She can’t get used to people asking her son--the boy who loves guacamole and crab legs--for his autograph. Recently, Donovan’s team, the San Jose Earthquakes, had a Donovan night and gave out replicas of his jersey.

If that weren’t enough, Kenney-Cash is in Seoul this week to watch Lanny play for the World Cup. The Americans arrived with humble hopes: They just wanted to reach the second round of the quadrennial championship. Then the improbable happened. The U.S. team, which has never won a World Cup match beyond the first round, squashed Mexico with a 2-0 victory Monday--and one of those goals was courtesy of Donovan.

When the Americans face Germany on Friday--4:30 a.m. PST-- Kenney-Cash is ready to cheer her son and his teammates.

“It’s kind of surreal; you think this isn’t really happening,” she said. “Only 3 1/2 years ago, he was playing high school soccer; this has a dream-like quality.”

In fact, soccer wasn’t Kenney-Cash’s idea. She initially preferred baseball. But when Landon was in preschool, his teachers suggested soccer for the hyperactive boy, saying it would help burn energy.

After games, she would ask whether he enjoyed himself, not whether he won. Then she would ask whether he believed he played his best. The game score was the last thing they discussed. Early on, it became embarrassing that her son scored so many more goals than any other child.

“I was aiming for a more well-rounded individual than some of the other soccer moms were,” Kenney-Cash said. “I thought of soccer as a learning experience.”

When Landon was in the third grade, she refused to allow him to play in a tournament after he misbehaved at school. Other parents were furious, telling her she was wrong to punish the entire team. Several dads told her she wasn’t “putting soccer first enough.”

Landon’s abilities never earned him any slack at home. Landon, his twin sister, Tristan, and their older brother, Josh, started doing their own laundry at age 5. They rotated such chores as vacuuming, washing dishes and mowing the lawn. Watching TV was forbidden from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m., and the kids couldn’t play on Saturdays until their rooms were clean. Landon, his mother said, became fastidious; his room was often cleaner than hers.

Kenney-Cash believes her son, who was running at eight months, is a natural athlete. He aced baseball and basketball, she said, but soccer was his sport because players “are always moving, and that fit his personality of go-go-go.”

She believed soccer was his ticket to a college scholarship. He was a straight-A student. At 15 and 16, he was a star on America’s Under-17 team. Then teams from Germany and England began courting in the late 1990s.

She was completely thrown when Donovan pitched a new idea: He would play for one of Germany’s top professional teams. At first, Kenney-Cash refused to give her permission. He begged every day.

After a year, she caved. She allowed her 16-year-old son to play for Bayer Leverkusen, a premier German club team. She cried for two days. The contract ended his chance for a college scholarship.

“I thought he was way too young,” said Kenney-Cash. “But years from now, I didn’t want him saying, ‘You destroyed my chances.’ ”

At her insistence, his contract with Germany included a signing bonus that would cover his college tuition if a soccer career didn’t work out. It also included air fare home. She sent him packages of Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal and bottles of ranch dressing.

America’s star youth player spent most of his playing time on the bench. He was lonely and homesick. If he had one or two days off, he flew home to surprise his family, even for a handful of hours.

For the last two years, Donovan, on loan from Germany, has played Major League Soccer with the San Jose Earthquakes. In soccer circles, he’s credited with leading the previously undistinguished team to a championship.

This week, Donovan is again in the spotlight. And his mother is on the sidelines. Not to bug him, but to egg him on. Kenney-Cash said she doesn’t get nervous before games. She just paces. “I don’t care if they win or lose,” she said. “I just care about Landon.”

With the stakes so high, she worries about an on-field injury or an attack by a terrorist or an irate fan. Like other soccer moms, she has pregame rituals. She always washes her hair, and she wears certain jewelry, mostly gifts from Landon: three necklaces (including one with a gold soccer ball), two bracelets and four rings.

For the World Cup, she brought along three of Landon’s jerseys, the ones she believes brought him the most luck, including the No. 13 he wore in the 2000 Olympics. It doesn’t matter that Kenney-Cash, who stands 4-foot-11, swims in her son’s jersey.

When she speaks about the upcoming game, she cannot help but sound like the Ultimate Soccer Mom.

“We already had our cake, and if we get anything else, it’s icing,” she said. “We’ve already done remarkably well; win or lose, I just feel like a winner.”