Why I Fell in Love With Soccer

This really might blow some people's minds and it really has nothing to do with anything that's going on right now.

But it also might be appropriate given the times and where U.S. Soccer is in the world.

I had the pleasure of sitting with Sam's Army for the first time at last night's World Cup Qualifier against Trinidad and Tobago at cozy Toyota Park. It was an awesome experience, as it reminded me of my old college days (which aren't that old, by the way), of when the student section would stand the entire game and lead the entire stadium in chants and cheers (though I don't know how much the other 11,000 fans in the Chicago suburb went along with the Army's cheers and jeers).

But it was support, and support of the highest kind. And it wasn't blind support. Members of Sam's Army were able to say when they didn't like a decision by an American player. Sure they bitched if a referee blew the whistle the other way, but their fans, and they have that right. But at least there was recognition of when our team was at fault.

You see, you don't get that at any other professional sporting event in the United States. Where are the rooting sections in NFL stadiums, in baseball ballparks, in NBA arenas or NHL ice rinks? Where is the character and the heart of the fans?

The fans, that's one of the reasons why this game, the one that's called football in other parts of the world, is one of my favorites. There is passion. And passion not just when it's a crucial game 7 in the finals for the championship or passion on the final drive of an American football game. There is passion at all games, against all opponents, no matter the situation.

But I wasn't exposed to that until I watched my very first World Cup, the one back in 2002. I know, that seems a tad late, but I do remember watching the 1998 World Cup in France, but trust me, especially after the Olympics in 1996 and with my San Diego Padres battling for the pennant that summer, the World Cup was an afterthought. And then the United States finished dead last. Didn't really help.

I guess you can say I started as a bandwagoner in 2002. I didn't know too much about the team. I didn't know about its young stars (a kid by the name of Landon Donovan, who barely had his receding hairline and this young speedster by the name of DeMarcus Beasley who flew up and down the left side of the pitch). I knew that it's cover boy, Clint Mathis, had an awesome haircut.

But they were successful. A new coach. A new youth movement. A new World Cup. There was no way that Team USA was going to finish last in 2002. So I followed them and followed that World Cup, waking up or staying awake until the 2 a.m. start times on the west coast for the U.S.'s games.

And then I saw the pride and the fans. And I saw this team win, getting all the way to the quarterfinals.

But since then, with the team waning back towards mediocrity, have I still followed the beautiful game? Why is it that I carve out two hours of my Tuesdays and Wednesdays to watch the Champions League? Why do I watch the MLS Cup Final? Why do I care about meaningless friendlies against Argentina and Spain (which, actually, mean more than you think)?

Well, I'm a fan of my national team for the same reason that someone who grew up in England is a fan of the Three Lions, or someone who group up in Mexico is a fan of El Tri. It's my country. It's my nation. And in a world where nationalism is looked down upon in everyday life, sport gives us pseudo-nationalist the avenue to cheer for our country without feeling embarrassed.

Part of it has to do with the United States' coming together after those tragic events seven years ago. To see the U.S. Men's National Team succeed on a global stage, at least for me--the 16-year-old kid in San Diego--said that we were going to be okay. And it was easier for us, as Americans, to go out and cheer for our national sides because, well, for a short period of time, we were all American. Our country was no longer made up of Californians or Southerners or New Yorkers, but Americans.

The second and most obvious is reason is because of the fans. After that World Cup, I started to watch soccer, not religiously or feverishly (because going to high school, I couldn't watch all the European games), but casually. And I noticed how awesome the fans were around the world, and these were games that had little consequence at the end of the season. Why couldn't we have that in professional sport in America?

And third, of course, the beauty of the game. It's not called the beautiful game for nothing. It's a simple game, with a simple premise. Most anyone--check that--anyone can play this game. All you have to do is get a ball, find some grass or dirt or concrete, and kick it around. It's amazing.

But then, what these professionals can do, it's magic. How can someone bend the ball into the top right corner from 37 yards out? How can someone juggle a soccer ball like that? How can midfielder thread a pass through four different players and, even more amazingly, have the vision to see his teammate make that run?

And there are so many different styles. You have the flair and creativity of the Spanish, the Dutch and Latin America. There's the fast-paced style of England. The defensive poise of the Italians and the brute strength and muscle of the Germans. And all of these schools of football compete against each other every week of the year.

But finally, and I'd hate to admit it because Franklin Foer points this out in his book How Soccer Explains the World, soccer in America isn't the "in" thing. It never has. I hope one day that it will, because it is such a beautiful game and a great game, but it's not mainstream, not at all. And that way, when I first fell in love with it, I could call it my own. It was a way to separate me and my friends. I can be an individual, because I loved soccer and no one else did.

But my view on that has changed. I'm not one of those "yuppie soccer fans" that Foer talks about in his book. I encourage my friends to watch. My last semester at Cal, every week, as the editor at the Daily Cal, I would invite the writers at the sports desk to come what the Champions League knockout stages with me at the on campus pub. Barely anyone came, but people who never watched soccer got their interest piqued and when the Euro Cup came around this year, a lot of my former writers, who never watched soccer, watched.

And so, that's why I love soccer. There's passion in it, there's beauty, it's unique and it's a simple game. It's the people's game. And it is around the world.