For a few weeks every four years, the world seems just a little bit smaller. People who have never watched a soccer match suddenly find themselves planning their day around kickoff. Flags appear in neighborhoods. Families gather around televisions. Complete strangers become instant experts on formations, penalty kicks, and stoppage time.
I love it.
Maybe it’s because it reminds me of being a kid.
Long before ESPN was on around the clock and before every great play was instantly available on a phone, sports on television felt almost magical. If Pelé was playing, you watched. If Larry Bird was on, you watched. Arthur Ashe. Julius Erving. Nadia Comăneci. Walter Payton. Whoever happened to be competing at the highest level became someone I admired.
Like so many kids, I wanted to be them. Not because I actually thought I’d become a professional athlete (ok, maybe I did a little:-), but because they made sports look like the most fun you could possibly have. The minute the game ended, I wanted to head outside and play.
Looking back, I realize how fortunate I was.
When the television turned off, I had somewhere to go. Sometimes it was the front yard with one of my seven siblings. Sometimes it was one of my 77 first cousins. And sometimes it was just me, a ball, and an imagination that convinced me I was taking the winning shot in Boston Garden or scoring the winning goal in the World Cup.
I didn’t think of that as access. It was simply life. There was always someone to play with. There was always another game to invent. If we didn’t know the rules, we figured them out as we went. If we didn’t have enough players, we changed the game. We played until someone called us in for dinner or until it got too dark to see.
I’ve been thinking about those afternoons a lot while watching the World Cup. Like most people, I enjoy watching the matches, but I find myself paying just as much attention to everything happening around them. The packed stadiums. The fans draped in their country’s colors. The little kids in oversized jerseys pretending to be their favorite players before the match even begins. The World Cup has a way of reminding us that sports really are a universal language.
What I find myself wondering, though, has very little to do with who eventually lifts the trophy.
I wonder about the millions of children who have spent the past couple of weeks falling in love with soccer. I wonder how many of them will wake up tomorrow wanting to be the next Messi the way I wanted to be Pelé.I wonder how many will ask a parent if they can play, or head outside looking for a ball, or convince a brother, sister, cousin, or friend to join them for an imaginary World Cup Final.
And then I wonder how many won’t have that opportunity.
Over the past several years, I’ve had the privilege of spending time in schools and communities across the country. No matter where we go, kids are remarkably similar. They want to run. They want to laugh. They want to make friends. They want to belong. They want the chance to be part of something bigger than themselves. What differs isn’t the children. It’s the opportunities available to them.
Some children will leave the World Cup inspired and have a coach waiting for them at practice the next afternoon. Others will leave just as inspired but won’t have a field, a league, transportation, equipment, or even another child nearby to kick the ball around with. Their dreams aren’t any smaller. Their opportunities simply are.
Maybe that’s why access has become such an important part of the conversation for us at 2-4-1 Sports. Not because we believe every child should become a great athlete. Most won’t, and that’s perfectly okay. We simply believe every child deserves the chance to experience what so many of us were fortunate enough to experience growing up: making friends, having fun, learning to be part of a team, and discovering that sports can shape your life in ways that have very little to do with the final score.
When I was young, I never would have described any of that as access. It was just life. It was one of my seven siblings asking if I wanted to play. It was one of my 77 first cousins knocking on the door. It was pretending to be Larry Bird one day and Pelé the next.
I wish every child could grow up thinking that’s just the way the world works.
About Steve Boyle
Steve Boyle is a connector, collaborator, and tireless advocate for making youth sports more playful, inclusive, and developmentally sound. As Executive Director of 2-4-1 CARE, Inc. and Co-Founder of 2-4-1 Sports, Steve has helped lead a growing movement to reshape the youth sports experience—one that puts the joy of play and the whole child at the center. Grounded in his background as a school counselor and coach, Steve co-created the award-winning TOP Self™ platform, which uses sport as a vehicle for social-emotional learning. Under his collaborative leadership, 2-4-1 has grown from a single program in West Hartford, Connecticut to a global nonprofit impacting communities across North America and Africa. Steve’s influence extends beyond his own organization. He served as Advisory Board Chair for the National Association of Physical Literacy and as Global Lead for Athletics and Physical Literacy at Whittle School & Studios, shaping programming in Washington, D.C. and Shenzhen. Whether working with local partners or global networks, Steve brings humility, heart, and a belief in the power of teamwork to everything he does.