We all appreciate local businesses, beer and music. Why don’t American soccer fans support locally too?

Opinion piece: Brendan Herron

Photo: Morgan Stilp

A fight has been brewing among soccer fans in the United States.

In one corner are the Eurosnobs, donning $100 Manchester United replica jerseys, Nike bar scarves and pseudo-British encyclopedias of purist “footballing” lingo. In the opposite corner stand the Major League Soccer loyalists, supporter’s club T-shirts, skull-and-crossbones biker bandanas and rainbow-colored scarves laden with anti-fascist proclamations.

The fight’s been raging for many rounds now, and as each round begins, the crowd of onlookers has grown. Both parties are poised to trade blows once again, yet no one bothers to interject and ask the question: why are American soccer fans so divided?

A famous, unattributed quote claims that “soccer is the sport of the future, and always will be.” It’s hard not to agree, given the myriad of attempts to place the sport alongside its established NFL, NBA and MLB counterparts. The 1994 World Cup — Diana Ross’ missed 6-yard shot during the opening ceremony aside — was largely seen as proof, finally, that people cared about the sport. The success of hosting the tournament led to the establishment of the MLS, which remains the top U.S. domestic soccer league.

For almost two decades now, soccer’s popularity has grown slowly but surely. But in the last five years, it has done more than that — it has exploded. Soccer is now the second most popular youth sport, having surpassed baseball, basketball and football. Television networks began investing hundreds of millions of dollars on broadcast rights for both domestic and international competitions.

The league itself has seen monumental growth. Average attendance now ranks ahead of the NHL, and eighth globally, ahead of prestigious soccer leagues in France, Brazil and the Netherlands. Commissioner of Major League Soccer Don Garber recently announced plans to expand the league to 26 teams by 2020, and again to 28 teams in the years following. Those lucky enough to be accepted will pay a hefty expansion fee of $150 million and also secure investment in a soccer-specific stadium.

Still, many American soccer fans dismiss the domestic league, citing its lower level of play, generally lukewarm fan support and lack of history. They say it’s hard to invest themselves in a product that isn’t the gold standard, unlike other professional leagues in America.

I’ve been lucky enough to experience both sides of the coin. As a 16-year-old, I spent a year in Germany following Alemannia Aachen, a beloved local team. The club struggled on the field during my first year there and they faced relegation from the second to third division going into the final game of the season. Having given so much to support the team, there was no question in my mind of travelling with 4,000 other Alemannen to make the eight-hour trip to Munich for the final day.

The support was unified, unwavering and rewarded with two goals early in the second half. It seemed as though the pieces were falling into place, but the final piece of the puzzle remained in the hands of another relegation-threatened team, hundreds of miles away. They needed to lose, and as the clock ticked toward 90 minutes, it became clear they wouldn’t. The final whistle blew, and everyone wept as the gravity of the relegation began to sink in.

To them, this team belonged in the second division. For over a hundred years, the club stood for the working class populace it served. It, like the city, craved national relevance. In that moment, the dread of an uncertain future became reality.

The nether regions of semi-professional German soccer may seem like a far cry from the big business of sports franchises in the U.S., but I recognized there were lessons to be learned from my experience. Supporting local soccer is inherently more emotional. Cities, communities and cultures are expressions of the people who live there, and local sports teams become the embodiment of those people.

Supporting local soccer is no different than buying a local craft beer, a handmade clothing from a local boutique or a ticket to a film premiere at an independent theater. The grassroots Free Beer Movement implores current American soccer loyalists to take skeptical friends to a match, armed with the promise of a free beer at the stadium. Ultimately, the first hurdle in overcoming biases toward local soccer is to just go.

Go, experience it for yourself, make your judgments and draw your own conclusions. Hopefully, you’ll feel the same passion and pride I feel every time I watch a match, whether in Bellingham, Seattle or Berlin. But if you don’t like it, that’s okay. The Premier League is still broadcast every Saturday morning. Your couch can’t offer free beer though.