Children's football: Sanctuary of dreams or market for "little crazy kids"?

9 hours ago
4 min read

“…Kid, stop messing around with the ball…” went the legendary song by Joan Manuel Serrat. However, in today's football ecosystem, it seems no one wants the kid to let go of the ball. On the contrary, society insists on professionalizing childhood, forgetting that these children are born today with an innate sense of freedom that often clashes with the rules dictated by a society that seeks to “domesticate them for their own good.”

Today we see children who, before understanding basic arithmetic, already project an authority inappropriate for their age: they order and command like heads of households or CEOs of companies. These are the same children who play in their backyard, in the neighborhood, or at school, imagining the roar of a stadium full of fans to whom they dedicate their victory. They inhabit a world where defeat is still unknown, only the language of dreams and fantasies.

The market of crushed futures

Unfortunately, this innocence often clashes with the reality of ruthless and perverse exploiters who see children's talent as a commodity. High performance is sought at increasingly younger ages under the guise of "protecting" them for the future, so that when they become idols they won't suffer the consequences of the poor nutrition they endured in their humble homes. It's protection with a financial return on investment.

The most painful thing is that, in this process, the parents themselves often become the closest accomplices of these talent hunters.

“Kid, you don’t say that, you don’t do that, you don’t touch that…” In this eagerness to direct lives without knowing their child’s true calling or profession, adults end up passing on their own frustrations. How many parents who failed in their attempt to become elite soccer players now want to see their children become the next Messi, Maradona, or, in other times, the next Pelé or Di Stéfano, placing the responsibility for the family’s financial survival on their children’s shoulders?

“Nothing and no one can stop them from suffering, from the hands of the clock moving forward, from decisions being made for them, from them making mistakes, from them growing up, and from them saying goodbye to us one day.”

The legal labyrinth: Between the Convention and the Regulation

From a legal perspective, the Convention on the Rights of the Child has clearly established that the best interests of the child are of constitutional importance. It is an international standard that dictates that children should enjoy leisure time, not work, and certainly not be treated as commodities or objects of trade. Their wishes must be respected and protected by States.

However, the legal architecture of football walks a fine line:

FIFA Regulations (Art. 19): Dedicates a crucial space to the protection of minors in international transfers.
Training and Solidarity Rights (Art. 20 to 22): Establishes compensation for the clubs that trained the player from a certain age until he reaches professional status.

Of course, this achievement isn't for everyone. For many who dreamed of the moon, the reality is what the film The Black Diamond portrays: children abandoned in distant countries, suffering the cold of maternal absence and the deep wound of a failure they should never have had to bear. FIFA has tried to alleviate this suffering, but much legislation is still needed in light of the new reforms regarding training and solidarity.

The "Strainer" and Law 27.211 in Argentina

In big clubs, there's a fatal stage known as "the sieve." It's that moment when teenagers who have traveled for years, filled with dreams, receive the news of their failure.

Under the subjective judgment of a coach, it is decided who stays and who must return home with their transfer rights, seeking new horizons but leaving the club with the "open credit" to collect for their years of training as soon as they sign their first contract elsewhere.

In Argentina, Law 27.211 on sports training is currently under scrutiny by the Supreme Court of Justice (CSJN) due to a constitutional challenge in the case of Domingo v. River Plate . This law offers benefits to clubs that develop young players, but it deviates from FIFA's original guidelines, particularly regarding age: it starts at nine years old. It almost seems as if the legislature is searching kindergartens for future talent to monetize.

“Let the little children come to me…” says the Bible. Today, that same phrase seems to be repeated in football clubs: the younger, the better. Recently, the esteemed colleague Francisco Rubio analyzed Luca Romero’s debut at just 15 years old, pointing out that it constitutes child labor, and moreover, it takes place at night.

A final reflection 30 years after the regulation

In today's football, it seems that "anything goes." We expose minors to locker room experiences and physical clashes typical of professional adults, skipping crucial life stages in the name of early success. Three decades after the creation of protective regulations, it's worth asking whether all the effort to safeguard them has been worthwhile in the face of the system's voracious appetite.