What Tobin Heath and her legacy means to me

Tobin Heath has officially retired. And though I knew this day would come eventually, it still feels surreal and deeply emotional.

It’s hard to put into words just how much she has meant to me — not only as a phenomenal footballer, but as someone who shaped my relationship with the sport and, in many ways, helped shape who I am.

I grew up in the United Arab Emirates, a place where women’s football barely existed in any accessible form. There were no official broadcasts, no media coverage, no matchday atmospheres I could attend or even remotely experience.

If I was lucky, I’d find a dodgy, unstable stream of a U.S. women’s national soccer team game, often of questionable quality, buffering every few minutes. Yet, it was through one of those shaky streams that I first discovered Heath.

From the very first moment I saw her play, I was completely hooked. Heath wasn’t just good — she was something else entirely. Magnetic. Electric. There was a boldness in the way she moved that was impossible to ignore. She didn’t just run with the ball. She danced with it. She made the ball look like an extension of her body, as if the pitch was her canvas and each touch, pass, and turn was a brushstroke. 

Watching her was like watching an artist create in real time. Her style was unapologetically creative and wildly unpredictable. She took risks, tried things others wouldn’t dare, and did it all with such effortless grace that it made the game feel like freedom itself. That artistry, that fearless joy, was contagious. It taught me early on that football isn’t just about scoring goals or winning trophies — it’s about expression, passion, and playing true to yourself.

The 2015 Women’s World Cup team, and later the 2019 squad, became my gateway into the world of women’s football. But it was Heath and Christen Press who truly anchored me in the sport. They were the players I watched not just for their talent, but because they made the game real for me. They made me believe that football wasn’t a distant dream meant for others and that it could be my world, too.

When Heath signed for Arsenal, it felt like the universe was closing a beautiful circle. I had followed her journey, from the grainy, unofficial streams and highlight reels to the biggest tournaments on the global stage, and, suddenly, she was part of the club I had grown to love. My passion for Arsenal is inseparable from my admiration for Heath. She drew me in, made me fall in love with the game deeper than I ever expected.

Heath didn’t just shape how I watch football — she shaped how I feel it. With every game, every moment, she taught me that playing with joy, audacity, and heart is the most powerful way to play. Watching her was a reminder that the most important thing you can do on the pitch is to be yourself. To embrace your individuality, your creativity, your quirks — and to own them fiercely.

I can’t claim to possess anywhere near her talent. But Heath shaped me as a person. She showed me that beauty and defiance can co-exist, that it’s okay to live boldly and authentically, both on and off the pitch. She gave me a mirror when I needed it most, a glimpse of what it looks like to play and live unapologetically.

Thank you, Tobin Heath. For every impossible touch, every mesmerizing turn, every moment of pure magic you gifted the world. For showing a girl halfway across the world watching on a shaky stream that she belongs here, too.

Your legacy will never be measured in goals or trophies alone. It lives in the hearts you inspired, the barriers you broke, and the game you transformed. You will always be my first love in football, my Harry, my eternal “Tobinho.”

As you close this chapter, I hope the next one brings you the peace, joy, and fulfillment you deserve. You’ve already given us more than enough.