We call it soccer

The USMNT did a thing

When the USMNT beat Paraguay 4-1 in their opening match, I shed a thug tear. A slow hand clap, a head nod, the motions of a proud big brother. US Soccer culture has always been here; you were never exposed to it, and I want to talk about what you saw against Paraguay was decades in the making.

There’s a certain smell I associate with American summer. Freshly cut grass, high humidity, dense heat, that reminds me of football, or as my adopted nation, the world, says soccer. There are so many things that shocked my system when my family moved stateside, the first being the lack of access to play football.

Growing up in a city, a country, where football is God, where it permeates all aspects of life, then moving to a country where football fandom was in its teething phase was frustrating. However, that all changed on one fateful evening. My dad, the ever-curious man, long before my siblings were born, always had an affinity for America. He’d visit, take in the culture of whatever state and city he was in, extract that, and export it to London, where I grew up.

I was exposed to American, Nigerian, and British culture in my home, so moving to America at 11 wasn’t culturally weird. I knew about the NFL, NBA, MLB, and NHL. I knew about the music, the fashions at the time, the entertainment world, but I didn’t know anything about MLS and the way Americans viewed soccer. At this time, MLS was 5 years old, still getting the winds beneath its sails.

Let’s go back to that fateful evening. My dad took my family to our uncle’s house, taking a longer route, and we saw some kids playing ball. Our football-crazy dad told us to get out of the car and play, which changed our lives forever. We found what would end up being not just the best U-9 team in the country, not just our state of Maryland, not just our city of Baltimore, but the whole USA, and one of the most successful youth soccer teams America has ever produced.

That team ended up becoming my brother’s, and that journey took us all over America, states and cities you’ve never heard of, just to kick a ball in the hopes of becoming a pro footballer. The journey took my brother from a small British Nigerian American kid to a retired professional footballer. This same journey did not make me a professional footballer, but it took me to realize that America has something special. I went from playing my whole life to analyzing the game professionally. This is why I always push back when people talk about American soccer.

I get highly offended when people say America has no soccer culture, no talent, and try to paint us as ignoramuses when it comes to football. It’s a slap in the face of thousands of kids whose dreams died because of a lack of infrastructure, it’s a spit at the parents and family members who sacrificed their lives and money to provide their children with the opportunity to pursue their dreams. I’ve played with some serious footballers, engaged and befriended others from the Maryland area who are genuine talents. We all share similar stories, stories of frustration, stories of trying to navigate the maze that’s American football.

When the USMNT beat Paraguay 4-1 at the 2026 World Cup opening match, I felt like a proud big brother. I met Mark McKenzie and Timothy Weah a few weeks ago, before the squad announcement. These kids won’t remember me, but I’ll remember them and the conversation we had. We spoke about how we’ve always had talent in America, we’ve always had football culture here, and what you’re seeing is the years of sweat equity poured in from previous generations.

This is for those of us who were around for ODP, PDP, state cup, regionals, and national championships. Those of us old enough to remember Generation Adidas, Project-40, and those of us who heard of Freddy Adu before social media, because of how tight-knit our community is. Culture starts somewhere before it becomes commodified, and everyone wants to eat from the pie. Now everyone wants to be a soccer expert, and it’s beautiful, but it’s also hilarious.

I’m proud of the young Black men and women who represent this country. 10 to 15 years ago, we didn’t have the men’s and women’s teams this diverse, but that’s the natural progression of things. That’s the way things should be. Don’t be a nasty old hater; champion the young men and women. Our failures from my generation of young US footballers only light the way for the young generation. Nine out of the 11 who started for the USA against Paraguay play in Europe’s top 5 leagues. That’s growth. That shows this country is learning and understanding. There’s still a way to go, but in the 8 years since not qualifying for the World Cup in 2018, like him or hate him, Gregg Berhalter has contributed to the success on the pitch, just as he did in 2002.

This is also for the late, great Grant Wahl. A man who was in the trenches with us, who understood what this meant, who gave his life to covering the beautiful game. He deserved to see this.

As the World Cup continues to unfold, be shameless about your love for the national team but show up at the good times as well as the bad. It can be cringeworthy to see the outlandish takes from non-football fans who think they know, or the newer fan who thinks they get it, but that’s the joy of sport. I hope this gets more people into the beautiful game. I hope Americans stop doing cross-sport comparisons and asking if our best athletes played, how far along would we be? You have the talent, always had it, actually, on the men’s and women’s side.

America is a massive country, so if people think we do not care, we do; it just happens that there are over 300 million of us. There’s talent all over the place, from California to Oregon to Kansas to Michigan to Illinois to Texas to Georgia to Florida to the Carolinas to Virginia to Maryland to New Jersey to Pennsylvania. I can go on and on. This is for the lost generation. This generation of talent was discarded because of pay-to-play, because the structure wasn’t there. This is for us sickos who found a way to watch the Premier League, Champions League, and every European league early on the weekends on Fox Soccer, ESPN, Setanta Sports, those of us knee deep in the forums arguing in the mid-2000s. The American journalists you see today were also in the trenches.

We all contributed something to this country’s football culture. So when you see that person wearing Sambas or Total 90s, or walking down the street in a vintage kit, or talking to that stranger at the bar about US Soccer, or even if you play pickup games, know that this culture was built before, and everyone is adding to it. That 4-1 win against Paraguay is everything this country needed.