Grassroots soccer

In the movie “The American President,” Andrew Shepherd – the title character – delivers an impassioned speech during a news conference.

Scott Adamson’s column on soccer appears periodically, usually when he’s feeling especially soccerish.

At one point he says, “America isn’t easy. America is advanced citizenship. You’ve gotta want it bad, ‘cause it’s gonna put up a fight.”

It’s a terrific movie speech and truly resonates, especially in the current political climate.

But I’m not gonna to go there (that’s what Twitter is for). Instead, I want to hijack that excerpt and apply it to association football:

“Lower division American soccer isn’t easy. Lower division American soccer is advanced supportership. You’ve gotta want it bad, ‘cause it’s gonna put up a fight.”

Indeed it will.

And does.

If you’re a fan of Major League Soccer, you probably don’t spend a lot of time worrying about these things.

You go to an Atlanta United FC match at palatial Mercedes-Benz Stadium, do a couple of Viking Thunder Claps, enjoy your one price, all-you-care-to-drink cola, and you’ve been part of the experience.

It’s franchise soccer and if that’s what you like, that’s what MLS is providing.

If, however, you enjoy the kind of football built from the ground up, you have to accept the fact that you’re almost always on shaky ground.

Thanks to Greenville Football Club, I was finally able to realize there is much, much more to see in American soccer than what I see on television and big stadiums.

A lot of people are unaware of the lower divisions because they aren’t exposed to them, and I used to be one of those people.

But then Greenville FC came along and it opened my eyes to other clubs and other leagues.

It reintroduced me to the Atlanta Silverbacks and led me toward the paths of clubs such as Asheville City SC, Motorik FC Alexandria and Unity F.C.

And even though I don’t have a luxury box at Finley Stadium, I’m now an owner of Chattanooga FC. (Come to my house and I’ll gladly show you my yard sign and certificate).

That wouldn’t have happened if GVLFC hadn’t happened.

But again, if you cast your lot with grassroots soccer, things will often get muddy.

On Tuesday, Greenville FC officially announced it was taking a hiatus from the National Premier Soccer League this year.

There is the hope it will return in 2021 – whether in the NPSL or some other circuit – but it still comes as a blow to supporters who’ve made the club an integral part of their summers.

But hey – things are tough all over.

The Silverbacks, rebranded as Atlanta SC, went from the NPSL to the National Independent Soccer Association and now seems to have basically just disappeared.

Go to its website and, well, it doesn’t have one anymore.

Other clubs across the country come and go, of course, breaking the hearts of those who follow them yet rarely rating a mention in the national soccer conversation.

Look, it would be a lot easier to step away from it all.

I support Celtic FC and also enjoy following Manchester United and Borussia Dortmund. That gives me a lot of soccer to enjoy spread out over a lot of months.

But it’s a helluva drive from my house to Glasgow.

On the other hand Sirrine Stadium – the most recent home of Greenville FC – is just a couple of miles away.

Local soccer isn’t sexy, but it’s real. There’s a reason the world’s game is ultimately rooted in small communities.

So wherever you live, seek out the men and women who play for the clubs near you.

Buy a ticket.

Buy a shirt.

Buy into the dream.

It’s “gonna put up a fight,” but one day – if you’re lucky – you might just see that the struggle was worth it.

Soccer Twitter would’ve loved 1993

Soccer Twitter is much like political Twitter in that it reveals a huge divide – with a healthy dose of infighting.

Scott Adamson’s column on soccer appears periodically, usually when he’s feeling especially soccerish.

Some are all-in with Major League Soccer – the golden child of the United States Soccer Federation – and believe the closed professional pyramid that includes the United Soccer League and its three branches is all well and good.

Then again, there are those among the USL faithful who have issues with MLS and wouldn’t mind a hostile takeover.

People who like to see their clubs grow from a community sprout have little use for franchise soccer, and find themselves at odds with the “bought not built” model.

And many of us want America to follow the world’s lead and adopt a system of promotion and relegation.

Throw in the National Women’s Soccer League, the fledgling National Independent Soccer Association and amateur loops such as the National Premier Soccer League, United Premier Soccer League and Women’s Premier Soccer League, and you have thousands of different voices screaming in hundreds of different directions and making an incredible amount of noise.

If you think soccer Twitter is lively now, though, imagine what it would’ve been like had it existed back in 1993. In case you’ve forgotten, are too young remember or never cared to begin with, that was a huge year for American soccer.

With the first World Cup coming to the United States in 1994, the country had a mandate from FIFA to establish a Division 1 league.

Originally such a league was supposed to be in place by 1992, so FIFA was already getting antsy about the delay. But officials from the USSF promised one would be established no later than 1995, and soccer’s mad dash for a major league was on.

The primary candidates were the Super League proposed by the USSF and something known as League One America.

The existing American Professional Soccer League waited in the wings, with its officials thinking the APSL could be in the mix if given a fair shake.

League One America had the wildest aspirations – by far.

The brainchild of Chicago businessman Jim Paglia, League One would be a single entity model with 12 teams playing in 20,000-seat stadiums constructed specifically for the league. There would also be “adjacent entertainment complexes and exhibit halls” so the matches would be part of events.

Players would make an average of $65,000 per season with individual and team performance incentives.

But League One America was all about the Americanization of the game, and its proposed rule changes turned association football into a whole new sport.

There would be tiered points depending on where the ball was kicked (the pitch would be divided into sections) and which player kicked it. According to a retrospective written for The Guardian back in 2016, points ranged from “one for a striker to three for a defender, and a team could earn an extra half point if their player scored between the posts of the traditional-sized goal and a new, larger outer goal that was being proposed.”

“Admittedly our proposal is more radical, but it is also more workable,” Paglia told the Orlando Sentinel in a December, 1993, story. “You combine all of our elements and you lower the risk factor.”

Such a league would’ve been interesting, but it wouldn’t have been soccer as anyone knew it.

The USSF eyed 12 teams in major U.S. markets playing in a league with USSF president and World Cup Organizing Committee head Alan Rothenberg serving as commissioner.

It would function as a single entity for three years before stadium owners could buy “licensing rights” from the league.

“There are elements in the World Cup organization, people in the venues, in operations and marketing who are among the best and the brightest,” Rothenberg told the Hartford Courant for a July, 1993, story. “They could be the core of the management group for a new league.”

As for the APSL, which had existing teams in Denver, Fort Lauderdale, Los Angeles, Montreal, Tampa Bay, Toronto and Vancouver, it hoped to formulate a business plan that would allow it to attain Division 1 status and possibly merge with any other “major” league that might be formed following the World Cup.

Los Angeles Salsa president William De La Peña, who was also a member of the USSF board of directors, told the Tampa Tribune in November, 1993, he wanted a fair process.

“I don’t believe the (USSF) is in any position to approve only one plan to control soccer in this country,” he said. “We would have some reservations about anti-trust violations. We could have the three leagues all coordinate together and let the market determine which system works best.”

Of course in the end, the USSF idea won.

The Super League plan morphed into Major League Soccer, which was founded in 1995 and started play with 10 franchises in 1996.

The APSL was rebranded as the A-League in 1995 (and its remnants ultimately became part of the USL), and League One America never got beyond the drawing board.

One can only imagine the cussing and discussing on Twitter while these organizations were making their plays.

Fortunately for the argumentative types, domestic soccer is as dysfunctional as ever, and remains tasty fodder for Twitter fights.

Oh, I almost forgot to mention this tidbit. Shortly after the World Cup was awarded to the United States in 1988, the USSF drew up a development plan for the sport. One of its key features was promotion/relegation.

Feel free to Tweet among yourselves …

* This story was updated to clarify information about the APSL.

The NASL’s Team America experiment

Long before there was a fully functioning United States Men’s National Soccer Team – and long before the USMNT fell into dysfunction – there was a professional franchise known as Team America.

Scott Adamson’s column on soccer appears periodically, usually when he’s feeling especially soccerish.

Blink and you might’ve missed them, but for those of us who followed the original North American Soccer League during its spectacular rise and equally spectacular fall, this one-and-done club is a unique part of its history.

Formed on January 20, 1983, and disbanded on September 13 of that same year, Team America was an idea much better in theory than in practice.

“The establishment of Team America will serve as a tremendous vehicle to enhance our chances of qualifying for the World Cup, soccer’s greatest spectacle,” United States Soccer Federation President Gene Edwards told United Press International during the launch announcement in New York. “It’s an exciting new endeavor – no country has ever placed its national team in a professional league – and will serve as an important step towards making the United States a viable force in international competition.”

The USMNT hadn’t been relevant since 1950 – the last year it qualified for the World Cup. Thirty-three years later the plan was to test the mettle of an American team against foes in a circuit whose stars were primarily from soccer hotbeds around the world.

The 20-player roster would be formed by taking the top United States players (including naturalized citizens) from the NASL, American Soccer League and Major Indoor Soccer League. To make sure Team America had the best athletes available in an effort to earn a berth in the 1986 World Cup, each NASL team had to nominate 40 players for consideration, with the expansion team allowed to sign away any who wanted to join.

“Team America is a landmark development as the United States prepares for international competition,” NASL President Howard Samuels told UPI. “A total commitment is being made by the United States soccer community, which believes that the U.S. can and will become a force in world soccer.”

I was hopeful that Team America would not only give domestic soccer a boost, but provide a loft to the NASL as well.

After its late 1970s heyday when huge crowds showed up to see players like Pele, George Best and Johan Cruyff, the league was struggling in the early 1980s.

Boasting 24 franchises in 1978, it was down to 12 in 1983 and fan interest was waning. Perhaps Team America would inspire new soccer supporters who were looking for a team to call their own (even though its home games were played in Washington D.C.) and reinvigorate the fan base for the rest of the league.

Nope.

The club averaged just over 13,000 fans for its matches at cavernous RFK Stadium. Plus, the team itself was punchless; some of the better American players such as Rick Davis of the New York Cosmos opted not to join.

“In the final analysis, it came down to a decision to where I could contribute to the development of the game more,” Davis told the Los Angeles Times. “The Cosmos have their own version of Team America. They have a very successful Americanization program that I’ve been an important part of. For many reasons, the best place for me at the moment is with the Cosmos.”

Due in part to the lack of top-tier U.S.-born players, Coach Alkis Panagoulias chose a team that had an abundance of naturalized citizens. He even added those who were in the process of applying for citizenship.

This would’ve been a non-story for any other NASL squad, but it strayed significantly from Team America’s “homegrown” mission.

Aside from finishing with a league-worst record of 10-20, Panagoulias’ charges netted just 33 goals the entire season and were shut out in 11 matches – making them unsuccessful and boring.

Less than eight months after it began, the experiment was over.

“The plan is to put Team America together next year as the U.S. team-in-training for the 1986 World Cup,” Samuels told the Chicago Tribune. “We’ll reassemble right after the indoor season.”

Spoiler alert: they did, but not as a member of the NASL. The franchise model was abandoned.

Team America owner Bob Lifton said he lost $1 million during the season and didn’t have many kind things to say about the experience.

“We were without the offensive strength we needed and that weakness showed up egregiously,” Lifton told the Tribune. “The team was certainly not a role model to the kids in this country.”

The USMNT would go on to reinvent itself and qualify for seven consecutive World Cups beginning in 1990 – including a quarterfinal run in 2002.

The squad missed the cut in 2018, however, and recent performances have done little to inspire confidence among supporters.

But while it’s interesting to look back at the tribulations of Team America, they really don’t have anything to do with the turbulent times the USMNT is going through now.

Then again, you know what they say about those who forget the past…