Note: This article is the first part of a series chronicling the state of American soccer ahead of the 2026 World Cup, which the United States will co-host.
The journey began on the slopes of a golden-brown hill in a Bay Area suburb, at a converted track and field stadium less than an hour’s drive from one of the 2026 World Cup’s host venues, but which itself is firmly positioned in another stratum of the football universe. While European club teams were selling out NFL stadiums on their annual summer exhibition swings through the United States and Lionel Messi was sending crowds into rapture upon his arrival at Inter Miami, the Oakland Roots and Las Vegas Lights of the USL Championship- the second tier of club football in the United States- played out a 1-0 Roots victory in front of the 2,000 or so spectators who had taken a seat on the metal bleachers of Pioneer Stadium in the industrial town of Hayward, California. The match and its surroundings provided an enlightening glimpse of where the US looks primed to grow into one of the world’s leading soccer nations, ahead of its co-hosting the World Cup in three years’ time—as well as a candid view of how football is still pushed to the margins of American sporting life.
Football often offers a glimpse of a society in microcosm; and, as I puffed my way up a steep hill offering neither shelter from the California sun nor an obvious place for pedestrians to walk on the way to the match, it became clear that the need to have a car which is so inescapable across most of America also extends to people trying to attend football matches. For drivers, conditions were ideal: parking was free, and the car park was located directly adjacent to the ground. For those using public transport, including myself, the puzzle was significantly trickier: from Hayward BART station, itself a 25-minute train ride south of downtown Oakland, the choice was either a long walk along a busy road and then up a hill, or a bus which, though advertised, didn’t seem to be running. I walked.
This is one illustration of how football, at least below the MLS level, is still pushed to the physical margins of the American sporting and cultural landscape, inaccessible by mass transit and invisible to people not in the know. The Oakland Roots are not alone in this predicament; their two closest rivals in the USL Championship, Monterey Bay FC and Sacramento Republic FC, also play well outside their respective urban centres, at least 45 minutes away by public transport. The same applies to MLS clubs like FC Dallas, stranded in the middle of suburbia and only accessible by car. This stands in sharp contrast with the situation in Europe, where even modest, lower-division stadiums are likely to be located in dense urban environments and be easier to reach by train, tram or foot than by car. That geographical centrality underscores the leading role held by football in Europe’s cultural mindscape. Until some of that centrality is replicated in America, football will struggle to become a major cultural presence from the grassroots level up.
Arrive at the stadium I finally did, and immediately the prospects for soccer in the US looked brighter. The match-attending experience in Europe can be a febrile, nerve-wracking thing on the wrong day, the atmosphere soured by the abundance of sketchy blokes stiff from drugs and itching for a fight. Sadly, the grossest forms of discriminatory language are still often on display, with homophobic taunts in particular cropping up with a dismaying regularity. So how refreshingly relaxing it is to take in a match in an explicitly inclusive environment, one where the Roots’ stadium announcer notified the crowd of the club’s zero-tolerance policy towards homophobic language before kick-off. This inviting atmosphere, in turn, attracted a diverse crowd: families with kids, packs of hip young professionals and flag-waving Roots diehards mixed amicably in the bleachers, and there was no sense of sitting on top of a powder keg as can be the case in some stadiums. That kind of easy-going atmosphere has the potential to draw a wider swathe of people to matches, especially if access by public transport were improved and prices were lowered (as it stands, Roots tickets cost a reasonable $25, but bottled water is an extortionate $5 and kettle corn will set you back $9).
The whistle blows, and the Roots begin to harry the Las Vegas backline against the ceaseless thud of drums from the very front of the stands, where thirty-odd especially passionate Roots fans have assembled. Stateside soccer fans have caught a fair bit of online flak for their contrived chants and uncomprehending mimicry of English-style fandom over the past few years, the implication being that there is something inorganic and fake about American soccer culture. This criticism has always felt a touch unfair, and it certainly doesn’t apply to the Roots’ devotees, who were in good voice for most of the 90 minutes, singing from genuine pride and enthusiasm. Recently, the Roots announced a scheme which will allow supporters to buy a share in the club and thus literally claim part-ownership, following the example of several lower-league clubs across the United States, including USL Championship rival Detroit City FC and San Francisco City FC across the bay. That level of community engagement seems increasingly unattainable in Europe’s leading leagues and in the major American professional sports, something nowhere more poignantly illustrated than in Oakland, which has seen its beloved NBA and NFL teams up sticks in recent years and is now facing the impending departure of baseball’s A’s to Las Vegas. The community-ownership scheme seems designed to help guard against the machinations of owners who trample over fans’ love for a team in order to secure the best deal for themselves, something Oakland natives will be uncomfortably familiar with.
Half-time arrives with the Roots unable to turn chances into goals, and on the hour mark Las Vegas midfielder Andrew Carleton lets fire from just inside the halfway line, an effort miraculously shoved away from the goalmouth by the scrambling Roots keeper Paul Blanchette. The crowd are really into it now, belting into the chant of ‘We’ve got a Keeper’. Blanchette, from the town of Palo Alto, is one of a number of Northern California natives in the Roots’ squad, a rank which also includes the club’s leading scorer Johnny Rodriguez and promising midfielder Daniel Gomez. That local core is complimented by a grab-bag of other nationalities, who include the Trinidadian international Neveal Hackshaw and right-back Bryan Tamacas, boasting 63 caps for El Salvador; club captain Emrah Klimenta is a Montenegrin. With time running out, it’s one of those footballing pilgrims, the Colombian substitute Anuar Peláez, who receives the ball after a rapid counter-attack, and makes no mistake in sliding the ball into the corner to give the Roots a deserved lead. Jubilation abounded; and after surviving a late scare when a Las Vegas equalizer was ruled out for offside, the Roots took the three points against their last-place visitors.
What can one match say about soccer in America? It’s impossible to reduce the way a sport played and watched by millions across the United States is experienced to one summer’s evening on America’s geographical fringe, and this article’s observations only reflect the impressions I got on attending my first football match in my native country. This is the first article in a series of reports of how American soccer is evolving ahead of the country’s co-hosting of the World Cup in three years’ time, a series which will focus on questions like what role soccer can play in American cultural narratives, and if the sport can begin to seriously challenge the primacy of the NFL, NBA and MLB at a national level. The potential broad appeal is there, as evidenced by the diverse crowd in the bleachers to see the Roots play the Lights, and the football on display is also of decent quality. Watch this space to see if those raw materials can be utilized to make soccer into a cultural touchstone across America, and American soccer into a serious rival for the established footballing nations of South America and Europe.
Inthehalfspace 