Soccer unites millions of people around the world, but not every country plays the game with the same purpose. Growing up in the Czech Republic, I saw firsthand how the sport creates communities, shapes values and builds lifelong connections.

When I moved to the United States, however, I encountered a very different model — one that seemed more centered on individual achievement, personal development and the pursuit of an individual goal, such as scholarships or playing professionally.

The contrast made me look back and ask: What exactly creates the deep sense of community I associate with the sport? And what happens when we lose it?

What I found is that in Czechia — and much of Europe — soccer is not treated primarily as a pipeline to elite competition. Instead, it is understood as a social institution, one that teaches children how to be responsible members of a group long before it trains them to be great athletes. That focus on collective responsibility and shared joy, rather than individual advancement, is what allows soccer to become a powerful engine of community life.

I first experienced this at 3 years old on a small local team, the kind run by parents, former players and lifelong volunteers. Coaches certainly wanted to help us improve, but the real emphasis was on the intangibles: fair play, teamwork, independence and hard work.

No one ever talked about “going pro” or earning a scholarship; we played to compete together, have fun and become better teammates. The goal was not personal success — it was belonging.

Years later, when I joined the pre-professional academy at Slavia Prague, I expected that culture to change. After all, Slavia is one of the top youth academies in Eastern Europe, producing professional players every year. But despite higher expectations, stricter training and real pressure to perform, the core values remained surprisingly consistent.

Even in a competitive environment, no one was encouraged to put their own ambitions ahead of the team. The locker room was not a battleground of egos but a space of mutual respect and shared purpose.

A normalized routine

What made this possible were the daily, normalized practices that quietly reinforced the community. In Czech youth soccer, players as young as 11 are expected to handle their own routines. Teams mandate that all kids arrive at least 15 minutes early to practice in order to prepare for practice, but also to socialize with their teammates.

Phones are often banned in locker rooms, which become lively social spaces where kids talk, joke and bond. Similarly, teams mandate that everyone travels together to away games on buses, strengthening independence from parents and deepening relationships.

These two practices, among many others, build habits of responsibility and cooperation that last far beyond childhood.

The common thread running through all of this is collective efficacy. From cleaning locker rooms to representing the team respectfully on the road, every player learns that their actions affect the group. This teaches children something schools and families often struggle to impart: how to see themselves as part of a larger whole.

When done well, it builds confidence, empathy and strong social skills — qualities that ultimately shape better citizens and better communities.

This emphasis on community isn’t accidental; it is baked into Europe’s coaching culture. The Union of European Football Associations, the continent’s governing body of soccer, requires all coaches — at every level — to complete standardized educational courses. One of the four pillars of this training is social development: learning how to foster teamwork, build relationships and create supportive environments.

When every coach is trained to prioritize social learning, the sport becomes as much about human connection as athletic skill.

In the United States, it wasn’t until 2024 that the United States Soccer Federation mandated coaching licenses for all coaches under its purview, which doesn’t include rec leagues or school teams.

Despite this shift in the right direction, the syllabus for the “D” license, which is the first proper coaching license you can get, has basically no references to teaching coaches how to create a strong community for their players. Instead, the main focus of the course is placed on achieving goals as individuals and a team.

Even though focusing on the individual could potentially create a few professional-level players, the vast majority of kids won’t even play into adulthood, which is why we ought to lead them toward collective efficacy and emphasize community.

Teaching children how to be responsible, supportive and collaborative from a young age creates healthier teams and — more importantly — healthier people. They retain the communal values that are instilled in them through soccer and are able to use them in their families, their work or any other community they become a part of — inevitably leading to a better society.

If we want to build stronger communities, we should start by rethinking the way we approach youth sports. Instead of treating them as stepping stones to scholarships or professional careers, we should embrace them as opportunities to teach kids how to work together, enjoy shared experiences and find joy in something bigger than themselves. It’s on all of us — parents, coaches, players and former players — to nurture that culture.

The first step toward cultivating the same sense of community in the United States is to strengthen and expand coaching license requirements for youth teams. Parents should know the qualifications of their children’s coaches and ensure that those credentials remain current and meaningful.

Coaches and families alike must recognize that giving young players responsibility and fostering a sense of collective purpose beyond the field helps them to form deeper, more lasting connections.

Most importantly, however, American society needs to rethink the underlying purpose of youth sports. Rather than prioritizing individual achievements and results, we should truly focus on the idea that the team comes first and that the essential goal is for kids to enjoy the game.

Zach Parpel, a first-year student and soccer player at Franklin & Marshall College, is from Prague, Czech Republic.