What I am about to say is rather tentative and may seem counterintuitive to someone who loves the dance of the sport I have watched for close to half a century. So here it goes. I want to make the case against soccer—not because soccer is evil, but because soccer is not American. Let the shock sink in before continuing to read.

Futebol is an international sport and an international word. But it is so un-American that they call it "soccer" here, and that is precisely the problem. Even the root means something like "association." What in Dante's Inferno does that even have to do with the beautiful game?

Ultimately, futebol belongs to the nations. Americans are not made for the lack of abundance of futebol, nor to the male collapse in the box as if struck by cannon fire, and to games that end after two hours with the score of a modest theological disagreement: 1–1.

But I love every movement, because I see futebol like a dance. Even if the game ends in zeros...I treasure the symphony of the immodest and scoreless result.

Futebol has a certain flowing beauty to it, and as someone who grew up in Brazil, I see it. I feel it. Heck, I can even taste it when I am in a stadium. It is rhythmic, patient, almost liturgical in its movements. The ball moves like a rumor through the village. There is anticipation, restraint, sudden eruption, and frequent moments of glory. In that sense, futebol is a lovely game for old civilizations, crowded cities, tribal loyalties, and countries where men have had centuries to develop both melancholy and footwork. Emphasis on the melancholy. Futebol is a romantic sport. Something that you do not find in the soul of America.

But that is also why it does not fit the American soul. America is not built on the charm of endless midfield passing. America is not a nation of 0–0 existential contemplation. America is a nation of innings, downs, home runs, fourth-quarter drives, hail marys (ies), seventh-inning stretches, tailgates, dugouts, helmets, diamonds, and gridirons.

America should be baseballish.

Baseball preserves our patience, our memory, our fathers, our summers, our statistics, our hot dogs, and our sense that a thing can be slow and still be glorious. Additionally, football (the other kind) preserves our grit, our strategy, our territorial instincts, our autumns, and our ability to understand that progress often comes three yards at a time under severe opposition.

Soccer?! may be beloved around the world, but that is no argument for its supremacy here. Not every international phenomenon needs to become an American institution. Some things can remain abroad, like monarchies, room-temperature beer, and excessive use of the word “brilliant.”

And let me conclude with a brief comment on the world's most corrupt institution. No, it's not the DMV...it's FIFA, the Vatican of global sports corruption without the incense. If soccer is the world’s game, FIFA has too often behaved like the world’s cartel: backroom deals, suspicious bids, moral lectures from men in luxury boxes, and a remarkable ability to turn a simple ball into a global bureaucracy. Why should America surrender its sporting imagination to a game whose high priesthood has made corruption look like an Olympic event?

Let the world have futebol. Let me enjoy it in Portuguese and Italian narration. Let it have its songs, scarves, flares, flops, and federations. But let America remain a baseball-and-football country. We have our own games, our own rhythms, our own mythology. A nation that forgets its sports forgets something of its soul. Preserve the diamond. That's right. I confess I still don't know what that means, but I have heard it enough. Guard the gridiron. And let soccer remain, respectfully, someone else’s national pastime. Let me keep it as part of my nostalgia. But do I want it to take over this country of mine? I don't think so.