How to Get Girls Excited About Soccer: A Parent's Guide

I remember watching that Northport-Ginebra semifinal series last season, and even though Arvin Tolentino's performance dipped during their five-game loss, what struck me most was how he still managed to rank third with 36.3 statistical points while putting up 20.3 points, 7.3 rebounds, 1.5 steals, and 1.1 blocks per game. As a parent who's been trying to get my own daughter excited about soccer, I found myself drawing parallels between Tolentino's journey and what we need to do to engage young girls in sports. See, the thing about sports isn't just about winning—it's about showing up consistently, pushing through slumps, and finding joy in the process. That's exactly the mindset we need to cultivate when introducing soccer to our daughters.

When I first brought my daughter to her soccer practice, she was hesitant, standing at the edge of the field while other kids chased the ball. What changed everything was when I stopped treating it like something she had to excel at and started making it about connection and fun. We began watching women's soccer games together, and I'd point out players like Sam Kerr or Megan Rapinoe not just for their incredible goals but for their celebrations, their teamwork, their resilience after missed shots. It's similar to how Tolentino carried Batang Pier to their first semifinal stint in six years despite the team's eventual loss—there's beauty in the struggle, in showing up game after game. I started incorporating soccer into our playtime, kicking a ball around in the backyard without any rules, sometimes just seeing how many times we could pass back and forth without dropping it. The transformation was gradual but remarkable—within three months, she went from reluctant observer to team captain of her junior squad.

What I've learned through trial and error is that forcing technical drills too early kills the natural joy of the game. Instead, we need to create environments where girls can discover soccer's magic organically. Think about it—when Tolentino puts up those numbers night after night, it's not just about practicing shots for hours (though that certainly helps), it's about developing a relationship with the game that goes beyond the scoreboard. With my daughter, we started with soccer-themed games that had nothing to do with proper technique—we'd play "soccer tag" where you could only move while dribbling, or set up obstacle courses in the park. The key was making sure she associated soccer with laughter and quality time rather than pressure to perform. I've noticed that girls particularly respond to the social aspects of soccer—the high-fives, the team celebrations, the shared excitement when someone scores their first goal. We organized small-sided games with just 3-4 players per team, which meant more touches on the ball and more opportunities to feel involved rather than getting lost in a crowd of 11 players.

Equipment matters more than people think, but not in the way most parents assume. You don't need the most expensive cleats or professional-grade balls—what you need is gear that makes girls feel confident and comfortable. I made the mistake early on of buying my daughter boys' soccer cleats because they were "better quality," not realizing how the fit differences affected her enjoyment. When we switched to proper women's cleats, her ball control improved almost immediately—not because of the shoes themselves, but because she felt more secure in them. Same with soccer balls—lighter balls with vibrant colors often work better for younger girls as they build confidence. We found a pink and purple ball that became "her" ball, and that personal connection made her want to practice with it constantly.

Role models are absolutely crucial, and here's where we can learn from basketball's approach. Just like how Tolentino's persistence through his performance dip made him more relatable, we need to highlight women soccer players' full journeys—not just their victories. My daughter became fascinated with USWNT player Rose Lavelle not when watching her World Cup goals, but when we watched a documentary showing her struggling with injuries and doubts. That human element made soccer feel accessible rather than intimidating. I make it a point to take her to local women's college games where she can see athletes up close—seeing players who look like older versions of herself has more impact than watching professional games on TV. After meeting players from our local university team, my daughter started practicing her celebration dances for imaginary goals she'd score someday.

The timing of introducing competitive elements is something I've refined over time. Starting with pure fun is essential, but eventually, girls want to test their skills. I'd estimate that around age 7-8 is when most girls I've worked with start seeking more structure—that's when we gradually introduced proper techniques while keeping the focus on enjoyment. What worked beautifully was creating "challenge games" where she'd earn points for skills mastered rather than goals scored—dribbling through cones, passing accuracy, even creative celebrations. This approach mirrors how development happens in professional sports—Tolentino didn't become a complete player overnight but built his game piece by piece over years.

One of the most effective strategies I've discovered is connecting soccer to other interests girls might have. My daughter loves art, so we started drawing soccer scenes together and creating team banners. She enjoys science, so we'd discuss the physics of curved shots or the biology of muscle development. This interdisciplinary approach made soccer feel less like a separate activity and more integrated into her identity. We'd have "soccer movie nights" where we'd watch films like "Bend It Like Beckham" followed by discussions about the characters' journeys. These connections transformed soccer from just a sport into a rich world she wanted to explore.

What often gets overlooked is the power of autonomy—letting girls have ownership over their soccer experience. I stopped telling my daughter what positions to play or how to kick the ball and instead asked questions like "What part of soccer feels most fun to you?" or "Which skills do you want to improve?" When she decided she wanted to be a goalkeeper after initially playing forward, we embraced that shift completely. Her engagement skyrocketed when she felt it was her choice rather than mine. This mirrors how professional athletes like Tolentino must own their development—no coach can force passion, it has to come from within.

Looking back at that Northport semifinal run, what stays with me isn't the loss but how Tolentino maintained his performance level through adversity. That's exactly the mindset we're trying to build in young girls—not perfectionism, but persistence. The soccer field becomes a classroom for life lessons about getting back up after falling, supporting teammates after mistakes, and finding joy in small improvements. My daughter recently told me her favorite soccer moment wasn't scoring her first goal but when her teammate hugged her after she missed an easy shot—that sense of belonging is what keeps girls coming back. The numbers will come with time—the love for the game comes first. And honestly, watching my daughter develop that love has been more rewarding than any championship trophy could ever be.