It's Time for America's Boys to Play Soccer
I must confess that I am biased: I am the son of a football coach, and a father who spent last month driving his son, a high school sophomore, to morning and evening practices, sometimes in temperatures exceeding 100 degrees.
But one does not need to be a football fanatic to realize that the sport has become more important today than ever before for boys aged 12 to 18.
Throughout history and across cultures, four major institutions have forged men: the family, religion, work, and war. The family raised children to become husbands and fathers; religion compelled them to confront human nature, sin, and salvation; and work taught them to meet the needs of others, instilling resilience and perseverance.
Yet war and work have receded from the lives of most of our young men, and fortunately, to a large extent, our societies have become safer than any human in ancient or medieval times could have imagined. Nevertheless, peace is not a natural state that occurs spontaneously; it is an achievement that demands constant vigilance. It is easy to forget this when less than 1 percent of the U.S. population serves in the military.
Work itself is no longer the formative experience it once was. When I was a boy in Nebraska, working in cornfields was a rite of passage into manhood. We would wake up at 4:30 a.m., laboring in the cold dew and the scorching midday heat.
Today, technology has nearly eradicated this experience, not only on farms but across the country. Since the 1980s, teenage employment has steadily declined, with only about 35 percent of teens securing summer jobs this year.
This may be part of the economic cost of progress, but it remains a cost we must acknowledge.
As war and work have receded, two new institutions have filled the void: bureaucratic schooling and digital media. In my view, both are inferior to the alternatives they replaced.
Modern school, with its industrial model, renders children passive, confined indoors, and in a receptive posture. But the human spirit is not a car manufactured on an assembly line. Meanwhile, the digital world pushes youth further toward isolation, addiction, and escapism. Digital temptations are endless, and young people gradually withdraw from the real world into loneliness and powerlessness. Sixty-one percent of young men report feeling they have “little control” over what happens in their lives. This is not a minor issue, but a crisis that is accumulating slowly.
In a world of instant gratification, football teaches perseverance through early drills and sore muscles; in an age of isolation, it provides a community and brotherhood built through shared suffering and joy; in a culture of passivity, it demands action.
Most importantly, football imposes strict boundaries on violence. In four quarters, attacks and defenses unleash maximum force, but within clear rules: hitting is penalized after the referee’s whistle; targeting a player unable to defend himself is prohibited; bullying in the locker room is condemned; and players who refuse to shake hands with their opponents after the game are looked down upon.
To transform strength into virtue, players learn sacrifice and delayed gratification. That extra rep is when your mind wants to quit, but your muscles haven’t yet; that is what it means to endure pain for your teammates.
A young man’s character is not always built by contemplating virtues, but by practicing them. When he chooses to tire himself and suffer for his team, he truly learns the meaning of sacrifice, discipline, and responsibility.
Paul the Apostle never played football, nor did he ever practice taking a corner kick, but he understood that suffering breeds perseverance, and perseverance shapes character. Paul was preoccupied with what was far more important: the salvation of souls. The football pitch, after all, offers no eternal salvation.
