At some point, people started spending more time on their phones than going outside. And honestly, I get it—our phones are made to keep us entertained, reachable, and feeling like we’re included. But being online all the time doesn’t always make you feel connected. Sometimes, it just reminds you how much you miss real people, real movement, and real places to belong.

I felt this when I tried to find a pickup soccer league. All I wanted was a field, a ball, and people to play with, but each time I went, something didn’t feel right. As a woman, I could sense when a space wasn’t built with me in mind and it felt like arriving at a party where you weren’t really invited.


I kept wondering what pickup soccer would be like if it were built differently. What if the goal wasn’t just to play, but to make everyone feel welcome as soon as they stepped onto the field?

That’s how Alana’s Fútbol Club started. There was no grand plan or vision board, just me seeking a place where anyone could play the game they love. I hoped to create a space where people could show up not knowing a single person and leave feeling like they’d found their people.

Pickup soccer has mostly been shaped by men, and I felt that most when I couldn’t find a place to belong on the field. I’ve talked to many women who have played for years but still feel nervous joining a mixed-gender game. With Alana’s Fútbol Club, I wanted to change that. Now, our games are almost always evenly split between genders, and the game is better for it.



AFC was built around the idea of “find your fútbol friends,” because that’s really what happens. People from all kinds of backgrounds come together on the field, where chasing the same ball helps break down the barriers that usually keep strangers apart.

Every week, I watch new connections form, and it never gets old. A new player high-fives a stranger after a goal or a regular finally pulls off a move they had been practicing nervously before. I can see the joy on their faces every time.

And at almost every game, there’s a moment when two players arrive unsure about joining, but soon find their rhythm on the field. They start calling each other’s names, pointing to open space, and moving together like they’ve played for years. That’s the moment I look forward to every week, cracking open a can of Yerba Madre on the sidelines as I take it all in.

 
I know I wouldn’t be here without my online audience, but turning that into real-life connections has been the best part of building AFC. When players tell me this club has helped them feel more connected, more confident, and less alone, it means a lot to me.

Every week, I see new relationships form at AFC—friendships, romances, and whole social circles that began at a single pickup game. It has never been just about soccer or skill. It’s about showing up, having fun, making mistakes, and finding people who make you want to return.

On the field, you move, laugh, and feel present in a way that’s hard to find anywhere else. There are no screens and no pressure, just a ball and people who chose to be there. Before we start, we share cans of Yerba Madre as part of the ritual, marking the beginning of the game and our shared love for it. Soccer is still one of the few ways people find each other in real life, and that matters more than ever.