Year after year we run stories about young Americans who ventured to Germany for soccer glory.
Most, not all, point out or complain about the intensity of the German lifestyle. So many rules. So much seriousness.
It reminds me of a sign I saw on a beautiful field in Hamburg when I was a young boy: “To tread on the grass is strictly forbidden.” In the United States, that would read, “Please keep off the grass.”
But I’m also reminded that in Germany you can take a sandwich and a beer on the subway, and as long as you don’t litter, you won’t be hassled. In my Oakland, you’d get arrested.
The fact is, the complaints about the social atmosphere tend to come when players aren’t finding happiness on the field.
Hold down a starting spot, score a few goals and the world is a friendly place.
That Germany has been Americans’ most popular destination traces back to an underground railroad effect created when Paul Caligiuri signed with Hamburg SV in 1987.
Scores of big names and lesser-knowns have gone deutsch since.
That German agent Michael Becker became a fixture amid the U.S. national team scene is no small contributor to the pipeline’s growth.
Germany has also been a prime choice because of its high standard of living and its soccer’s good reputation. Working in Germany is easier than in England, where work-permit hassles have tripped many players.
Yet the brand of soccer should play a major role in determining where Americans are best off.
American players constantly say in Germany is where they improve on defense and discipline. Are those really the traits they need to focus on?
I’d say flair and offense is where our shortage is. So it’s time to build a bridge to Spain, where the pay is good, the standard of living high and the soccer heavy on skill.