I have a confession to make.
A few months ago, I knew very little about soccer. And I certainly had not planned on writing about soccer.
Now, after spending time watching the FIFA Club World Cup matches being played right here in North Texas, in my hometown of Arlington, and many other locations thanks to the Fox Network, I’ve learned more about the sport than I ever expected. I still have plenty to learn, but I have thoroughly enjoyed watching the athleticism, strategy, and skill of these remarkable players. Running up and down the field for over two hours gave me a new appreciation for the athleticism and endurance required by the sport.
The fans were also a spectacle of their own. Their loyalty was fierce, their energy unrestrained, and their enthusiasm gloriously over the top. They sang, chanted, waved flags, and reacted to every moment as though the fate of the nation rested on the next kick. They did not simply support their teams; they gave themselves over to the experience completely. And they sang their national anthem at the top of their lungs, included the players. I have never seen nor experienced anything quite like that in the United States. It has been exhilarating.
My house supported our ancestry roots: England and Scotland and the US. When one of those teams was playing, we hung the flag out for that country. It got a bit dicey when it was July 4th and we hung the Union Jack out. IYKYK. And, no, it did not surprise me that Boston ran out of beer. I understand from the depths of my Scottish roots.
I’ve also been highly entertained by something else.
The drama.
More than once, I watched a player collapse to the ground as though they had just suffered a life-altering injury or had been fatally stabbed. Teammates gathered. Opponents protested. Fans reacted. The referee assessed the situation.
Then, almost miraculously, when it became clear the referee wasn’t buying it, the player sprang back to life and resumed play as if nothing had happened.
When I mentioned this to someone watching with me, they said, matter-of-factly, “That’s how the game is played.”
Perhaps so. But it got me thinking.
If every fall is treated like a catastrophe, how do you know when someone is genuinely hurt? If every reaction is exaggerated, how do you separate the real emergencies from the theatrics?
Poor refs!
The longer I watched, the less interested I became in the player on the ground and the more interested I became in what everyone else was doing.
Who was paying attention?
Who was reacting emotionally?
What was happening away from the ball?
Who was trying to influence the outcome?
For someone who has spent a career observing people, those questions are hard to ignore.
The experience reminded me that distractions are powerful. Drama captures our attention. It pulls our focus away from what is actually happening and redirects it toward what someone wants us to see.
That lesson extends far beyond sports.
In business, relationships, leadership, and everyday life, the loudest thing happening is not always the most important thing happening.
Sometimes the most valuable observations occur at the edges of the action rather than in the center of it.
Sometimes credibility is earned through consistency rather than volume.
And sometimes the best thing we can do is pause long enough to look beyond the obvious and ask, “What else is going on here?”
Don’t misunderstand me. I’ve become a fan.
The matches have been exciting. The athletes are extraordinary. And I’ve gained a genuine appreciation for a sport I once knew very little about.
But as someone whose profession has always required careful observation, I found myself watching more than the ball.
So, the next time the drama gets loud—at the practice, at home, or among friends—take a pause.
Quietly observe.
Resist the urge to react immediately.
And ask yourself:
“Is there something else going on here?”
Over the years, I’ve learned that the answer is often yes. Not always. But often enough to make the question worth asking.
You might be surprised by what you discover when you stop watching the drama and start paying attention to everything happening around it.
And perhaps that’s a lesson worth remembering no matter what game we’re playing.
P.S. After becoming an unexpected soccer fan this summer, I’m already eyeing the 2030 FIFA World Cup in Spain. By then, I may actually understand the rules. Anyone interested in joining me?