How soccer won over America and became part of U.S. sports culture

How Soccer Transformed From Outsider to American Mainstay

How soccer won over America and became - In 2002, as the U.S. men's national team faced Germany in a World Cup quarterfinal, I witnessed a moment that would later redefine soccer’s place in American culture. The scene unfolded at a military base in South Korea, a location steeped in history just across from the Demilitarized Zone. My task for CNN was to capture the soldiers’ reactions, but what I found was unexpected—a quiet, focused crowd unlike the raucous gatherings I’d seen in my home country, the United Kingdom.

The makeshift viewing area, though functional, lacked the vibrant energy of a typical British match day. Plastic chairs were haphazardly arranged around a TV stand, a temporary setup for the occasion. As the game began, the soldiers watched with disciplined attention, their enthusiasm restrained compared to the passionate crowds back home. The U.S. team, once a underdog in the 1998 World Cup, had shown flashes of promise but still carried the stigma of mediocrity. Yet, in that match, they fought valiantly, turning the tide momentarily before Germany sealed a 1-0 victory in the 39th minute.

My perspective shifted dramatically after the final whistle. The soldiers’ post-match reactions were less celebration and more critique. A familiar voice echoed from the microphone: “woulda, coulda, shoulda.” It wasn’t just disappointment—it was a sharp, almost dismissive tone. This moment crystallized the American mindset: a demand for dominance over mere participation. Soccer, in this context, had yet to earn its place in the national consciousness, but it was on the cusp of doing so.

Fast forward to today, and the landscape has changed. According to Ampere Analysis, soccer has overtaken baseball as the third most popular sport in the U.S., trailing only football and basketball. This surge in interest is partly fueled by the nation’s role as a co-host of the 2026 World Cup alongside Canada and Mexico, with the final set to take place at MetLife Stadium in New Jersey on July 19. The U.S. has hosted or co-hosted four World Cups since the 1990s, and the 2031 Women’s World Cup will mark its fifth, a record unmatched by any other country.

The cultural embrace of soccer has deepened beyond mere statistics. Americans now engage with the sport on multiple levels—playing, watching, and immersing themselves in its traditions. From the fervent nationalism of groups like the American Outlaws, who rally behind the national teams, to the colorful rituals of supporter factions such as the Portland Timbers Army, the game has woven itself into the fabric of American sports culture. These groups, much like the European ultras, bring life to stadiums with chants, banners, and an unwavering loyalty that once seemed foreign to U.S. fans.

For an expat Brit, this transformation is nothing short of remarkable. When I first arrived in America, soccer was a niche interest, often dismissed as a “foreign” pastime. The rejection of the sport was palpable, with many Americans skeptical of its appeal. Yet, the 2002 match was a turning point, a glimpse of what was to come. The U.S. team’s valiant effort against Germany, though ultimately unsuccessful, planted seeds of hope and curiosity in a population that had long been indifferent to the game.

Back in the U.K., soccer is ingrained in daily life. From playgrounds where children kick a ball with coats as goalposts to Sunday matches on muddy pitches, the sport transcends age, class, and geography. It’s a cultural touchstone, as familiar as tea or football boots. As a player, I experienced this deeply—competing in the lower tiers of the soccer pyramid, where the grind of local leagues and the unpredictability of grassroots matches shaped my understanding of the game. My brief stint at Chelsea and Crystal Palace, though fleeting, offered a glimpse into the elite, but it was the grassroots passion that left the most lasting impression.

While my career in journalism allowed me to witness soccer’s global triumphs, my time as a physical education teacher in London deepened my connection to the sport’s roots. I coached young players, nurturing their dreams and witnessing their raw, unfiltered love for the game. That experience, combined with my own playing days, gave me a unique lens to view soccer’s rise in the U.S. From the shadows of the lower leagues, I saw the potential for the sport to transcend borders and redefine national identity.

Despite its growing popularity, the journey hasn’t been without challenges. The North American Soccer League (NASL) in the late 1970s was an early attempt to bring the game to American shores, featuring legends like Pelé, Franz Beckenbauer, Johan Cruyff, and George Best. However, the league’s brief success faded, and soccer remained an outsider. The 2002 World Cup, with its underdog narrative and the U.S. team’s near-miss, reignited interest. It was a catalyst for change, proving that Americans could be captivated by a game that once seemed unattainable.

Today, the U.S. stands at the epicenter of soccer’s global expansion. The 2026 World Cup, with its 11 host cities, is a testament to the sport’s integration into the American sports psyche. While the game’s popularity in the U.K. is rooted in tradition, its acceptance in the U.S. is a story of perseverance and gradual evolution. The contrast between the two nations is striking: where soccer is a birthright, it is now a celebrated phenomenon in America, no longer an afterthought but a vital part of the cultural mosaic.

A Personal Reflection on Soccer’s American Odyssey

As an expatriate, I’ve always viewed soccer as a symbol of global unity. Yet, the U.S. once seemed to resist its embrace. My own journey—from playing on underfunded teams for beer money to rubbing shoulders with soccer’s elite at international tournaments—mirrors the sport’s rise in popularity. Even in my younger days, I found joy in small victories, like scoring a goal in an FA Cup preliminary round or a pro-celebrity match against a former England goalkeeper. These moments, though modest, became pillars of personal pride.

“The older we get, the better we were,” a phrase that resonates with many who’ve played the game. My experiences as a player and coach taught me that soccer’s allure lies in its ability to connect people across generations and geographies. The 2002 World Cup, with its underdog story, was a bridge between past and future, showing that the U.S. could one day be a force in the global arena. The soldiers’ reaction, once a sign of skepticism, now symbolizes a growing willingness to invest in the sport’s potential.

What began as a quiet moment at a military base has blossomed into a cultural revolution. The U.S. is no longer just a host nation—it’s a participant in the soccer world. The shift is undeniable, and as the 2026 World Cup approaches, it serves as a reminder of how far the sport has come. From the stadiums of Major League Soccer to the international spotlight, soccer’s journey in America is a story of transformation, one that continues to unfold with each passing year.

“woulda, coulda, shoulda”—a phrase that once summed up the American soldiers’ post-match sentiment, now echoes as a relic of an era when soccer was still an outsider. Today, it’s a symbol of a nation that has embraced the sport with open arms, proving that even the most skeptical can find a place in the global game.