As we embrace the world’s game, we must let the world’s game embrace us
 

Soccer has undoubtedly grown in this country—both in stature and in competitiveness—to the point that we can consider it a major sport in the American landscape.

The national team’s dramatic World Cup campaign has helped the sport grow leaps and bounds, and the future of US Soccer is brighter than ever.
 

As millions of spectators gather around to water cooler to talk about Landon Donovan’s whereabouts on the late-night circuit and the transfer mill, thousands of trainees are developing through our burgeoning academy systems. The national federation is steadily transforming Bradenton—the IMG academy that houses some of the best American talents— into a likeness of France’s renowned Clairefontaine, and club academies are slowly churning out talents that will make splashes in the senior circuit, such as Andy Najar (DC United) and Samir Badr (Porto).
 

Meanwhile, the New York Red Bulls signed one of the biggest footballing names in our generation in Thierry Henry and the Chicago Fire signed a relatively-young mercurial talent Nery Castillo. Ronaldinho may follow suit and join the Los Angeles Galaxy, and other stars such as Ryan Giggs and Rafael Marquez have shown interest in playing in the MLS down-the-line.

Interest in the MLS has grown, and the league might finally be able to shake off its “sub-standard” tag.

In fact, the league will shake off that tag that has haunted it since its inception. The blend of aging stars and better young talent will elevate the league into a top-10 league. At the very least, the MLS will be on par with Russian and Scandinavian leagues and a more viable and attractive option that the money-rich Middle Eastern leagues.

Money is steadily flowing into the MLS, and someday domestically-based soccer players can earn wages comparable to hockey players or even football players. These common arguments rationalizing soccer’s current impotence because of the profit motive will eventually become moot.
 

As the Designated Player clause develops in the MLS, the salary cap will undoubtedly increase as well. We shouldn’t lose good American players to Sweden and Norway because of wages, and the MLS is slowly figuring this out. The tight-held ship that the MLS brass runs is loosening up its purse-strings and will reap the rewards of prudent re-investment in the league.
 

However, the MLS will still always be a niche league with a NHL-like ceiling. As long as the EPLs and La Ligas of the world exist, fan and media attention will deservedly deflect to those leagues. Even if the MLS grows, it will never possess the elite quality that those aforementioned leagues possess and will suffer because of the talent gap.
 

If the MLS can accept the notion of its limited growth potential and perpetual niche status, then the league will inconspicuously thrive. But we’re Americans, and we expect better than that. And it’s not outlandish to think that the MLS can have a substantial impact on the American sporting landscape—it just takes a bit of creativity to figure out what we have to do.

The MLS lacks the identity that it needs to join the select group of relevant American sporting leagues: the NFL, NASCAR, MLB, NBA, NCAA football and basketball, (and perhaps the) NHL.
 

These leagues impact the American sporting culture in various ways: whether it be the establishment of NFL Sunday, the “dog days of summer” and the Fall Classic, bracketology and bowl season, and “The [Ill-conceived] Decision”.
 

The MLS lacks this cultural impact and won’t progress into the mainstream until it finds that special golden factor. The American soccer brass is clearly devoid of ideas, since we haven’t been able to figure this out since the NASL. But hope glimmers, because there’s untapped inspiration from abroad.
 

This inspiration is a fundamental aspect of leagues abroad, an idea that is more ignored than untapped domestically, and an idea that baseball fans jokingly play when discussing the mediocrity of the Pirates and Orioles—promotion/relegation.

Unbeknownst to many casual fans, American soccer has an amazingly organized and deep structure of leagues comparable to baseball’s minor leagues. The likes of the Portland Timbers and Vancouver Whitecaps FC—who are both moving becoming permanent MLS franchises next season— have thrived in American soccer’s second division, a league comparable to baseball’s AAA or England’s Championship (in terms of structure, not player quality). Leagues run even deeper, and many of these lower-league teams already play against MLS sides in the US Open Cup (also known as the Lamar Hunt Cup).
 

Promotion/relegation doesn’t work in baseball because of the affiliation system between major- and minor-league teams, but who’s to say that it wouldn’t work for American soccer? Lower-division clubs operate under similar guidelines to European clubs, working within transfer windows to sign and loan players, and are completely autonomous from the top-flight clubs in the MLS. The promotion/relegation system is in fact already implemented in every other non-MLS professional league (USL/NASL), so the concept isn’t that outlandish.
 

The American sports culture and economic model of sports franchises have prevented the promotion/relegation concept from catching on stateside, but maybes it’s time for a change. While cities may not be in favor of the competitive concept because of economic concerns and potential stadium investments amidst uncertain competitive longevity, the competitive spirit of promotion/relegation shouldn’t be questioned.
 

Promotion/relegation, as many an American sports media will tell you, prevents last-place teams from “dogging it” for better draft position or performing periodic fire sales (i.e. Jeffrey Loria’s Marlins) with little consequence. Americans embrace the concept, and it’s about time the MLS capitalized on this sentiment to carve itself an identity and place in American sports culture.
 

The MLS can give American soccer fans a reason to stay home to watch our football, since the increasingly-talented league promotes the game’s spirit of promotion/relegation. It can give mid-market cities dreams of professional franchises and replicate the success it has had with Real Salt Lake.
 

It can give folks like me hope that the soccer version of the Lake Elsinore Store (Padres High-A affiliate) can ride its success to better leagues and ultimately the “big show.” It can give small-town folks professional ambitions and big-time hopes and dreams.
 

It can emphatically pronounce soccer as the grassroots sport of America, a sport with low barriers to professional entry. It could spark an even greater wave of interest in youth soccer.
 

I understand that there are many pros and cons to promotion/relegation, too many to discuss in this already-long column. But the idea is clear: soccer can actually be something in America.
 

And it won’t be big solely by spending money on big-name players or trying to Americanize the game. It’ll be done by implementing the essence of football to the American core—eventually, we’ll take notice and fall for the world’s game.

As we embrace the world’s game and it embraces us back, we can make our game. Football. Fútbol. Soccer.