The Curious Case of Soccer in America

The stands are packed for a soccer match ... in America? (photo by Jeff Goodman)

It's about as predictable as an announcer's lung-testing wail after a goal: Any time the United States is remotely relevant on the international soccer scene, the national public discourse revolves around the future of the sport in the Land of the Free.

Is it stagnant? Is it growing? Is the ever-increasing coverage a sign of burgeoning interest in "The Beautiful Game," or is it merely reflective of technological advancements in the age of Twitter and 24-hour news? One barometer: If the pundits are still having the "Has soccer taken off in America?" debate, it probably hasn't taken off yet.

Indeed, the centrality of futbol in the lives of average American kids has a somewhat puzzling trajectory; it begins with AYSO and soon becomes "Eh, so?" Youngsters go from playing soccer every four days to watching soccer every four years. It's as if soccer teaches them to run ... and then they run away from it.

Like clockwork, however, they return as spectators for international competition, much as they did for the 2011 edition of the FIFA Women's World Cup. It was, by many accounts, a precious moment for both genders in the nation's soccer movement. Ratings were up. Sales were up. Marriage proposals for not-currently-single Cal alumna Alex Morgan were up. Even after losing the final to Japan in penalty kicks despite leading 2-1 with three minutes left in overtime, the U.S. women's national team was lauded -- mistakenly, in my opinion -- for its awe-inspiring effort. (It should take more than losing to advance a sport's status, shouldn't it?)

Jeld-Wen Field in Portland (photo by Jeff Goodman)

But maybe that unconditional praise speaks to the reason -- namely, patriotism -- Americans tune in to international soccer in the first place. Because let's face it: are they really watching in droves because they love soccer? The game, at its core, isn't visually pleasing to the untrained eye. In some ways, it's like watching an invisible puppeteer as he struggles to untangle his dolls. In other ways, it's like watching a painfully inept pinball player for 90 minutes straight. You could shell out 40 bucks -- or pounds, or euros, or whatever -- and never see the scoreboard change!

And yet, millions of people around the world are drawn to soccer matches each year. Just this week, Jeld-Wen Field in Portland was packed for the Timbers' exhibition against Argentine club Independiente. The Timbers, who recently joined Major League Soccer, have developed an impressive local following in a city that could probably fill a stadium with rain before it could with people.

These aren't just fair-weather fans, either. They came out in full force to sing the national anthem for the team's home opener in April; their now-famous cheering section, the green-clad Timbers Army, chants everything from "You are my sunshine" to "Burn, destroy, wreck and kill!" Regardless of whether these examples say more about the loyalty of people in Portland or about their passion for the game, you'd never know by attending a Timbers game that soccer is the No. 5 sport in the States.

Certainly, it feels like there's more to soccer in America than Volvo-driving moms and viral videos of fake injuries. At least for now, though, the relationship between country and sport is less like a successful marriage and more like a prolonged game of Footsie. When the two do decide to get serious -- that is, when soccer scores in the U.S. -- we'll know about it. Because there will be a hoarse announcer sharing the news with the world, shouting endlessly into his microphone: GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL!