In the 1980s, around the time the author first arrived in the U.S., Republican Congressman Jack Kemp—a rising conservative figure who had quarterbacked the Buffalo Bills before entering politics—articulated that America’s version of football represented democracy and capitalism, contrasting it with “dodgy foreign football,” which he characterized as a European socialist conspiracy to undermine American ways. Much like socialism and the metric system, figures like Kemp sought to protect America.

And Americans were notably resistant. Moving to the U.S. as a teenager during that period felt like passing behind a “sporting Iron Curtain.” The author found himself abruptly isolated from the universal culture of the world’s most popular sport, in a country that insisted on playing its unique games to bolster its exceptionalism, subsequently declaring its domestic league champions “world champions.” To this day, it remains the only nation where the top athletes in its most followed professional sport never represent their country in international competition. Soccer was not available on American television, attempts to establish a thriving domestic league proved unsuccessful, and there were no schoolmates with whom to discuss teams like Bayern Munich and Barcelona. Furthermore, during their free time, they would often produce a football, rather than a soccer ball.

How significantly things have changed. Recreational soccer is now a fundamental part of American youth culture; we have established professional leagues and teams in the U.S. The author can readily watch nearly any global league on television (English on NBC, Italian on Paramount, Spanish and German on ESPN, Mexican on TUDN, etc.). More American TV viewers watched the 2022 FIFA men’s World Cup held in Qatar than either that year’s World Series or NBA Finals. This occurred despite no Americans being involved in the final match, which pitted Leo Messi’s Argentina against Kylian Mbappé’s France. Additionally, many of the same entities controlling U.S. sports franchises are now acquiring international soccer clubs. This season, for the first time, a majority of English Premier League clubs are under U.S. ownership.

However, perhaps the most compelling illustration of America’s developing affection for soccer is President Donald Trump’s enthusiastic support for the World Cup, which the U.S. will co-host with Mexico and Canada next summer. While American political leaders on the right previously disdained FIFA and the sport governed by the Swiss-based organization, one might assume Trump has given its current president, Gianni Infantino, considerable access to the White House, given their frequent meetings. Infantino has also accompanied Trump on his Middle East travels and was present during Infantino’s inaugural Club World Cup last summer.

On Friday, Trump is scheduled to preside over the ceremonial draw that determines which nations will compete in which groups next summer. The draw was originally slated for Las Vegas (as it was for the 1994 World Cup, which FIFA organized in the U.S. in an earlier attempt to boost the sport here) but was relocated to Washington’s Kennedy Center, seemingly to underscore its significance as a matter of state. Among the intriguing questions leading into Friday are whether the U.S. men’s team will face formidable opponents like Norway or Egypt in their opening game, and if Trump will participate in a unique, impromptu act suggested by Infantino for the occasion.

The author recalls attending some of the 1994 World Cup matches but may not be able to afford tickets for next summer’s event (ironically, a sign of progress!). That 1994 tournament served as a major catalyst for the game in America, aiding in the launch of Major League Soccer afterward. Yet, the atmosphere then felt like an externally imposed event, a collaborative effort between immigrant communities embedded in the country and large corporate sponsors seeking to integrate the sport they both cared about into the mainstream.

Indeed, three principal forces deserve credit for advancing the sport in America: the women’s game, popular cultural influences, and the global necessity for major U.S. corporations to brand themselves through the sport with true international reach.

The narrative of how girls and women embraced soccer in the late 20th century, transforming the U.S. into the global powerhouse of the women’s game, is widely known. Less appreciated is the extent to which the cultural phenomena of the USWNT’s stars in the 1990s helped naturalize the sport as American. We transitioned from Kemp’s disdain in the 1980s to demographers soon coining the term “soccer mom” to describe a mainstream, suburban, middle-class segment of white voters. Meanwhile, throughout America’s cities, immigrants and shifting demographics also played a clear role in popularizing the game.

And in an era of accelerating globalization, American multinational corporations were always destined to align themselves with the global sport. Coca-Cola became one of FIFA’s first corporate sponsors in the 1970s, not primarily because people in its home market cared deeply about the game. Electronic Arts achieved significant success with its Madden NFL video game, but its appeal was largely confined to the U.S. For a truly global hit, it needed to develop its FIFA game (since renamed EA Sports FC). Media giants with global ambitions similarly understand the necessity of being connected to the global game. The examples are numerous.

The convergence of America’s and international soccer’s considerable soft power is expected to reshape global sporting culture for decades to come. Therefore, pay close attention to the event at the Kennedy Center on Friday, and the World Cup next summer. Reflect on how far this relationship has progressed and envision what might transpire next if the U.S. men’s team performs well in the tournament.