Uncovering the Mystery: Who Called It Soccer First and Why It Matters

I've always been fascinated by how language shapes our understanding of sports and culture. Growing up playing football—or as most Americans call it, soccer—I never really questioned why we had this transatlantic naming divide. It wasn't until I was researching historical sports terminology that I stumbled upon something remarkable: the word "soccer" actually originated in England, not America, and the story behind this linguistic journey reveals much about how sports evolve across cultures.

The term "soccer" first appeared in the late 19th century at Oxford University, where students had a habit of adding "-er" to shortened versions of words. "Association football"—the formal name distinguishing it from rugby football—became "assoc," which naturally evolved into "soccer." This wasn't some American rebellion against British terminology, but rather a British invention that somehow stuck better across the Atlantic than in its homeland. I find it particularly ironic that many British football fans today view "soccer" as an American corruption when it's actually part of their own linguistic heritage. The first recorded use dates back to 1889, according to linguistics professor Prof. Stefan Szymanski's research, though some evidence suggests it might have been used informally even earlier.

What strikes me about this linguistic history is how it mirrors the way sports terminology evolves through cultural exchange and personal identity formation. When I think about that reference to "stepping up into that role of being an ate, and being someone who can be trusted on the court," it resonates with how terminology becomes part of athletic identity. Just as a player grows into their role on the court, terminology grows into its role within a culture. The acceptance of "soccer" in America wasn't a rejection of British tradition but rather an organic development that reflected how the sport carved its own space in American culture alongside American football. I've noticed in my own experience that the words we use for sports become deeply tied to our sporting identities—whether you call it football or soccer says something about where you're from and how you relate to the game.

The transition of "soccer" from British university slang to mainstream American terminology happened gradually between 1900 and 1960. What's fascinating is that during this same period, the British increasingly abandoned "soccer" in favor of "football," while Americans did the opposite. This divergence matters because it reflects deeper cultural differences in how the sport was perceived and consumed. In England, football was the people's game, deeply embedded in working-class culture. In America, soccer had to distinguish itself from the already-established American football. I've always felt this created different expectations for the sport—in England, football is tradition; in America, soccer represents something newer, more international.

The persistence of this terminology debate speaks to how language carries cultural weight. When I talk to British colleagues about football, there's always this unspoken understanding that we're referring to different sports unless we specify. This isn't just about words—it's about different sporting cultures, different histories, and different relationships with the game. The fact that "soccer" originated in England but thrived in America tells a story about how languages and sports evolve through migration and adaptation. It's estimated that by 1975, "soccer" was used approximately 3 times more frequently in American English than "football" for referring to the sport, showing how completely the term had been adopted.

Personally, I've come to appreciate both terms for what they represent. "Football" connects to the sport's global tradition, while "soccer" represents its unique American journey. Neither is wrong—they're just different chapters in the same story. The next time someone complains about Americans calling it soccer, I'll remind them that they're criticizing a word that Oxford students invented over a century ago. Language in sports, much like the games themselves, follows unpredictable paths, and that's what makes both so endlessly fascinating to me.

By Heather Schnese S’12, content specialist

2025-11-16 17:01