Kyle Martino has done — and seen — it all in the soccer world.
He’s been 1999 National High School Soccer Player of the Year at Staples High School; MLS Rookie of the Year with the Columbus Crew; David Beckham’s teammate on the Los Angeles Galaxy, and a US national team athlete.
After retiring, Kyle pivoted to broadcasting. He was a noted Premier League analyst for NBC Sports; now he covers the US men’s and women’s teams for TNT and HBO Max.
Besides all that he founded the Over Under Initiative and Goalpher, a pop-up goal that turns basketball courts into mini-soccer fields. Both projects bring the sport to under-served communities.
Oh, yeah: He also owns Football Café, a “soccer-themed speakeasy” in New York.
So when Kyle Martino warns us about the state of youth soccer, we should all pay attention.
He recently wrote a lengthy — and sobering — story about the experiences of his 8-year-old daughter Marlowe, and 6-year-old son Major. (He and his ex-wife, actress Eva Amurri, share co-parenting duties. Eva lives full-time in Westport; Kyle spends a lot of time here.)
This is must reading for any parent — and anyone concerned about the world of youth sports today. Kyle writes:
Let me tell you a story about a brother and a sister. Both found themselves in love with The Beautiful Game, but their path to that love and the outcome was very different.
Kyle Martino, with the US national team.
Both of them knew their dad was a former professional soccer player who loved the sport deeply. This fact had little influence on their desire or curiosity to peruse the game, which probably had more to do with my reluctance to push the sport on them.
Marlowe began her relationship with the sport with local organized soccer. Fun and casual practice once a week, with a game day on the weekend. She loved playing. She definitely inherited my competitive side, but seemed to gravitate towards the social side of the game. Loved laughing with her friends and sharing moments on the field together.
Her relationship with the game changed dramatically with the first big transition. Her friends were trying out for the prestigious “club” team, and she was distraught thinking about not getting to play with them anymore. She was turning 8.
Major couldn’t care less about soccer. He definitely has my obsessive side but that instrument was pointed directly at dancing. He saw “Newsies” and never looked back. He needed no encouragement or advice; he sought out all things dance. Eva and I followed his lead.
Until one day Eva called me and said. “what did you do to Major?” Terrified I sent him home with a black eye or something I didn’t notice, I simply said, “what do you mean?”
Eva told me that since he came home from watching a World Cup game at Football Café, packed with adults enjoying something together in a way he’s never witnessed, Major was infected. All he wanted to do was watch highlights and go into the backyard to mimic the moves.
Major Martino: great form! (Photo courtesy of Instagram)
He spent hours setting up chairs, or any yard objects he could find, to dress the field with players to go against. His love for the game grew each day, as did his skill. It was amazing to watch.
It was exactly how I was, except without an on-demand window into the global database of world football on his iPad. I used to steal VHS tapes of old games from my Dutch neighbor. Major is 6
This is where the story takes a sad turn. As Major turned everything he could find into a defender, and any unoccupied space into a stadium, his relationship with the game grew bigger and deeper.
At the same time, Marlowe’s love for the game was in real jeopardy. She tried out for that team her friends joined, and made it. That moment marked the slow deterioration of her enjoyment playing soccer.
Practices became more frequent, distances to games longer, time with the ball shorter, pressure larger, parents louder, and the smiles scarcer. I could list endless things I couldn’t believe I was seeing, like the kids standing on their own for 20 minutes in the 28-degree cold while the coach set up the expensive camera/GPS equipment the club purchased to demonstrate the enormous fees parents paid were being put to good use. I have 20 examples of stuff like this.
Each week that passed, Marlowe fell more out of love with soccer. Until the day came when we told her she didn’t have to play if she didn’t want to. She was relieved. We were heartbroken.
Marlowe Martino. (Photo courtesy of Instagram)
Meanwhile Major’s love for the game and ability with the ball, deriving from self- play and pickup with whoever would join, compounded every week. Each day he loves soccer more than the last. It’s beautiful.
I’ll never forget when I was running for president of US Soccer (the national governing body). During a workshop I held to create a progress plan to change the game, Mia Hamm said, “There is a huge crisis at the moment we need to address, and it’s that the kids aren’t having fun anymore.”
The room was silent after she said it. She was coaching a girls team in California, so she had a front row seat. I never realized how right she was until I watched what happened to Marlowe.
This is not an anti-organized soccer rant. Far from it. I am so impressed with the many ways the soccer landscape has improved in this country. There is much to be proud of and excited by.
This is an attempt to once again raise an issue of consequence that should concern all who love this game, and want its gift to be felt and cherished by as many as possible. We must stop professionalizing, specializing and overpricing sport for young kids.
Soccer is the number one sport in the world because it takes very little to play it, and costs nothing to love it. We are artificially making scarce one of the most abundant commodities on the planet. The joy soccer provides is the air you breathe, not the gold you buy.
Let them breathe. Let them play.
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