Having absorbed the reality of the U.S. men's soccer team losing to Trinidad and Tobago and subsequently finding itself excluded from the 2018 World Cup, I feel compelled to explain why this seemingly unthinkable result came to pass, at least according to me.

You see, it all starts with the corrupted and misguided way youth sports are approached in the United States. Yes, the players on the men's team failed because our youth soccer system (and youth sports culture as a whole) failed them — and us.

I am not a real expert (heck, I am a corporate lawyer by day), but I did play a bit of soccer in college (backup keeper at the University of Illinois). More important, I spent almost six years on the board of directors of one of the largest youth soccer organizations in the Minnesota (Minneapolis United).

When I was growing up in Chicago, I played any sport that was being played by the neighborhood "gang." We didn't get raised in our sports by private youth sports associations; we played in the streets, back yards, alleys, parks and, eventually, for our grade schools and high schools. It was always fun, and it was always for pride of neighborhood or school. Those who were really good were really good — eventually they ended up playing post-high school, and it was still as fun for them as it was when they were kids.

Today, kids from age 4 are herded into youth amateur programs in sports like soccer, hockey, volleyball, baseball, lacrosse and even basketball. The programs promise kids the "opportunity to enjoy the sport at a level consistent with their ability and commitment and to grow as players."

Sounds great, but what does that mean in practice? It often means that you are signing your kid up to play one sport for a considerable amount of money and that the kid will be not be helped to build skills, knowledge and love of the game, but rather will play an unbelievable number of games, tournaments and scrimmages almost year-round — often many miles from your home. Want to fit in another sport? Forget it. As one prominent youth soccer coaching director in the Twin Cities is famous for saying, "I don't have time for two-sport athletes."

All these games and events involve coaches, referees, tournament organizers, equipment suppliers and field owners who must be paid. In other words, the organization is designed to train your kids from an early age how to play in and win games and tournaments — and monopolize as much of your money as they can in the process. Sound familiar?

Yes, it sounds like pro sports, and it sounds like a job. Our family just experienced this in the past year when our 16-year-old son left behind seven years of competitive traveling soccer to join his high school football team as its kicker and punter. His sage words spoken earlier this summer even after his traveling soccer team made it all the way to the state finals: "Dad, it's not like I am going to make a living playing soccer; it's time to move on. I want to play football, and I want to have fun again."

And there's the rub. Is it possible to grow exceptional players in various sports while maintaining the "love of the game"? It sure used to be — just look at every hall-of-fame American athlete for the last century. The vast majority grew up playing multiple sports and primarily playing for their grade schools and high schools during their formative years.

Today, we have private youth amateur organizations trying to make money (some reports estimate that the youth sports industry in the U.S. is in the $7-billion-to-$10-billion range) off parents' desires to somehow manufacture a star player in a given sport, and so limiting them to participation in that one sport. What does that get us in return? Unfulfilled dreams and unhappy players — even the U.S. men's soccer team.

Let's get back to the "love of the game," and maybe we will get back to things like the World Cup.

Jim Rowader lives in Minneapolis.