FOXBOROUGH - There's something happening here. What it is ain't exactly clear.
The United States women's national team is America's flavor of the month. Everywhere they go, squealing soccer-playing girls, their brothers, their fathers, and their mothers are sure to follow. They may even be attracting stray males who like soccer, good athletic competition, or maybe just the idea that this is a sport where America can kick serious butt. They sold out in the Meadowlands. They sold out in Chicago. They put more than 50,000 in Patsland on a sweltering June night (89 degrees when the game started).
After looking at this, you wonder how anyone could have thought of putting the Women's World Cup anywhere else? It was in Sweden last time and the total attendance of all matches was 112,000. The Americans drew in excess of 130,000 in their first two games.
It doesn't hurt that we're highly proficient and that the American team is good enough to regain the title. We've seen this before. An American basketball juggernaut put more than 30,000 people in the Georgia Dome to see them smash Brazil in the 1996 gold medal game with what was very likely the best show of female basketball ever witnessed on this planet. An American hockey squad won the gold medal in Nagano by defeating archrival Canada in an exquisite demonstration of the product, and it was a very tough ticket. In neither case has it been possible to extrapolate that short-term interest into a larger context.
So what's going on here? Women's soccer is no big deal in any other setting. The NCAA tournament doesn't draw like this. But in this situation the US women are being greeted like rock stars. Que pasa?
No one saw this coming, least of all the coach, whose team won its third straight tournament game by a 3-0 score over North Korea.
''I don't think we could ever have hoped for anything like this,'' admits coach Tony DiCicco. ''It's just a dream.''
''I think it's about a lot of things,'' said goalkeeper Briana Scurry, the pride of Dayton, Minn., and the University of Massachusetts. ''America loves a winner and we do a lot of that. But I also think you're seeing soccer-playing girls dragging their moms here, and I think you're seeing people who have heard about us and want to see what we're all about. They come to our games and see that soccer is an attractive thing to watch.''
Among the things they got to see last night were some acrobatic saves by Ms. Scurry, who has both great lateral movement and some serious hops. She also has a nose for trouble, clearly unafraid to use her nose as a blocking device, if necessary.
''Briana is a rock of granite for us,'' declared DiCicco. ''She made some awesome saves tonight.''
The opponents were certainly an intriguing bunch. I would have bet that I'd see a Martian in person before I'd ever see a North Korean playing anything in the United States. This is perhaps the most closed society of them all. I'd call them the Georgetown of international sport, except that, unlike the Hoyas, the Korea DPR, as they prefer to be called, at least list the birthdates of their players.
The North Koreans needed either a victory or a bizarre combination of goals scored and goals against involving the US and Nigeria to advance. The obvious early strategy was to play a completely defensive game, hoping to keep it close until, say, the final 10 minutes, when they might think about attacking. The strategy looked good for a half, but the athletically superior Americans scored three beautiful goals in the second half.
Most of the Americans disavowed any knowledge or interest in the geopolitical aspect of this fascinating pairing, choosing to dwell on the game's technicalities. But surely someone among them had to give at least a little thought to the Big Picture. That someone turned out to be the American with the least in common with any of the invaders, unless, of course, one of the North Koreans has sneaked away from the watchful eye of team authorities to make her own commercial with Michael Jordan.
''Maybe that's why they went into that bunker style,'' reasoned Mia Hamm. ''Their goal might have been simply to get back to North Korea without getting blown out. That might help them develop the sport and their team.''
Hamm found the Koreans to be a fascinating opponent. ''We know a lot about some of these teams,'' she pointed out, ''but we knew nothing about the Koreans. One of the things that's so great about international soccer is the chance to visit other countries and experience other cultures. We've been to places like Haiti and China, where everything is just so different.''
One place neither Hamm nor anyone else on the team has been is North Korea. And just imagine the flip side. What must the sheltered visitors from the land of the notably eccentric Kim Jong II (watching the match on a satellite dish, we were told) have been thinking if they've been turning on their hotel TVs and seeing Jerry Springer and WCW?
They are done playing now, but the Americans will be playing Germany Thursday in Landover, Md.
If the new form holds, there will be another 50,000 out to cheer them on.
''We don't take any of this support for granted,'' said Sara Whalen, of Natick and UConn. ''As every day goes on, it's more and more overwhelming. Here we were greeted by a marching band at the airport. We don't know what to expect anymore. I just think people like seeing us do what we do and be so happy about it.''
Oh, if it were only that simple. Is it simple female solidarity? Soccer? The female brand of soccer? Winning? A big event mentality exclusive to Americans?
''These women are what we hope American athletes are like,'' maintained DiCicco. ''It's why I think I've got the best coaching job in the world.''
He means it. But is that the answer? No one really knows. What it is, ain't exactly clear.
But it sure beats rooting for Larry Johnson.
Bob Ryan is a Globe columnist.
