How this small country became a factory of soccer players for export

Baby football: the best kept secret of Uruguayans 5:18

(CNN Spanish) --

"All Uruguayans are born shouting a goal and that is why there is so much noise in maternity hospitals, there is a tremendous noise."

These well-known words by Eduardo Galeano summarize the soccer culture that has made a country of a few million inhabitants a veritable quarry of stars.

But they don't tell the whole story: behind the success there is also a fierce structure that makes children highly competitive from an early age.

A structure that allows the next Luis Suárez, Federico Valverde or Darwin Núñez to be identified... and that also leaves thousands along the way with invisible scars.

The "master" Tabárez —the former coach of the Uruguayan national team and former school teacher who educated generations of players and fans with a particular philosophy of "the path is the reward"—explained years ago in an interview with CNN en Español the factor that in his opinion, a case so unique returns to Uruguay.

"This is one of the countries with the greatest football culture in the world. And I define football culture as the fact that the people of that country have football as one of the important things in their lives. And not only the fans: you love them from home, the grandmothers," she said shortly before the 2010 World Cup.

Rivers of ink have flowed about the passion of Uruguayans for football.

If you live in Uruguay or visit the country, you don't even need to read: a tour of Montevideo is enough to notice the omnipresence of the round ball on asphalt, grass and sand.

The enthusiasm reaches its peak at the time of the World Cup —the first of which Uruguay organized and won in 1930—, when the passion for the ball is added to the passion for the light blue.

Four verses by Jaime Roos, one of the greats of national music, are enough to illustrate it:

For children, but not recreational: this is the "industry" of children's soccer in Uruguay

But it's not just a passion shared by three million people.

No way.

Uruguay has a solid structure that organizes children's soccer and that, according to several experts consulted by CNN en Español, explains the emergence of stars who, before learning to divide, are already emerging as export professionals.

First of all, the figures, which speak for themselves: more than 65,000 children throughout the country, that is, almost four out of every 10 boys between the ages of six and 13, play organized championships in the so-called "baby soccer".

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More than half a century ago, in 1968, the National Commission for Baby Soccer was created in Uruguay, a governing body for soccer for the little ones that since 2000 has been known as the National Organization for Children's Soccer (ONFI).

There is a pyramidal structure that promotes from early on a competition that, according to its director Eduardo Mosegui, is the differential of Uruguayan football.

"Children's soccer is competitive from the moment it starts. It has very little of a recreational nature like other disciplines," he told CNN.

And this means that, in his vision, from a very young age players know how to face complex situations and move forward.

Reproduction of a photo of the Deportivo Artigas baby soccer team where Luis Suárez (back row) used to play when he was five years old.

(Credit: Miguel Rojo/ AFP/ Getty Images)

And in addition the children learn to compete with the rules of FIFA.

Four or five-year-olds are already beginning to be taught the same rules that govern professional football, according to Mosegui, with which they acquire a wealth of knowledge and experience from an early age.

In a country that has a tenth of the territory of Mexico and 40 times less population, there are about 600 children's clubs and the structure "reaches all the towns, from the largest to the smallest," says Mosegui.

"Sometimes there are places where there are no public services but there is a children's soccer club," he sums up.

The structure combines, perhaps like an industry, public-private participation: the clubs and leagues have autonomy but in turn there is a line of work that depends on the national government.

"We believe a lot in the football institution. In other places, they bet a lot on the academy, the schools, technical training. We believe that here they bet on the club, they bet on competitions, they bet on identity," he adds. .

Uruguay cannot let even one escape

And then the boys become sportingly combative.

In Uruguay, the idea that you have to win is rooted, sports journalist Ricardo Piñeyrúa explains to CNN.

"And then

is contradictory because from the teaching point of view one would say 'it can't be because they yell at the little ones, they direct them badly, they force them to burst the ball because what matters is winning' but there is also how a combative component since they start playing football," he says.

Talent is formed and displayed.

Pierre Sarratía, from the formations of the National Football Club, one of the two most popular teams in the country, explains that from very early on, after the organization of the competitions, teams are put together and "in these teams there are always scouts from Montevideo clubs or also contractors who make a living with this".

"And then they are like the boats that drag everything at the bottom of the sea. There is no footballer who passes through these meshes. They drag everything. There is little chance that a boy in Uruguay will not come out if he is good."

Sarratía, French, explains that the Uruguayans also know that, as there are barely three million, "they have no right to let people escape."

If there is a talent, you have to recruit it.

Roque Máspoli, the former world champion goalkeeper in the 1950 Maracanazo, told CNN something similar, shortly before he died in 2004: “Only Argentina has a children's soccer network as wide as Uruguay's.

Since children they play championships.

That means that almost no talent escapes in Uruguay”.

Not all that glitters is gold: the "mortgaged childhoods for a hope"

Seen from the outside, this structure may seem like a gold mine.

But it is not for everyone.

Not even for most.

Behind the parents' desire for their son to become a soccer prodigy, there is, of course, an economic issue beyond the love of the ball.

"Football is like a carrot, and if they pursue it they will achieve an economic and social position," explains Piñeyrúa, which makes Uruguayans, whether they do well or not, fight to make a career.

But the vast majority falls by the wayside.

In fact, according to the statistics handled by the journalist Jorge Señorans in the book

, only 0.14% "is saved economically".

The rest remains on the sidelines, with childhoods "mortgaged by hope."

"It is very likely that if the little boy is packed or excited about the possibility of being a professional player, he will come and tell you mom: 'I don't want to study anymore, because I'm going to play soccer, I'm going to be a soccer player '. With what do you back down there? There are families that suddenly impose themselves and the mother says: 'No, we don't negotiate this, we don't study,' but there are others who suddenly don't have the preparation or sufficient means to try to instill in the kid that the parallel activity of soccer has to be accompanied by a study, then the kid stops studying, but does not arrive and then has to go out to face life without adequate preparation. That happens in many cases " , he explained in an interview with the program En Perspectiva after the launch of the book.

This is just one of the many threats to baby football, which is perhaps the best kept secret in Uruguayan football.

But it does not prevent, of course, that tens of thousands put on their boots every weekend, with the dream of reaching the top of the firmament of the stars and trying to add one more star to the Uruguay shirt, as an ace of best in the world at the 1924 and 1928 Olympic Games and at the 1930 and 1950 World Cups.

World CupUruguay national team