I don't know what it is about England qualifying for the 2026 World Cup, but this one feels different. Maybe it's because I'm older now, old enough to actually remember more than the highlights. Old enough to see the patterns — the good football, the frustrating spells, the moments where England make you believe and the moments where they make you want to switch off the telly. But when the confirmation came through — England are in — I felt something I didn't expect: real pride.
Not the loud, bragging kind. More the quiet kind that sits with you. Because when you look at this England squad, whatever you think of Tuchel or the performances, there's one thing you can't ignore: every single player in that team started the same way the rest of us did.
That world isn't glamorous, but it's the foundation of everything.
People love to talk about “pathways” like they're neat staircases. But the real pathway is messy — ups, downs, dips in confidence, random tournaments, coaches who see something in you, and weeks where your touch deserts you for no reason. I've lived enough seasons now to know that grassroots isn't a warm-up for “real football.” It is real football.
And that's why England qualifying made me think about us — the grassroots kids, the parents, the coaches, the clubs that hold themselves together with volunteers and WhatsApp groups and fundraising nights.
When Kane scores, people see the finished product. When Bellingham dominates, people talk about talent like it fell from the sky. When Foden glides past someone, it looks effortless.
But rewind their stories and you'll find muddy tournaments, long drives, losses that stung, first touches that weren't perfect, and early seasons where nobody knew yet that they'd play for England.
That's why this qualification feels connected to every grassroots pitch across the country. Even ours in Manchester.
Every kid at training is chasing something.
Some chase the pro dream.
Some chase confidence.
Some chase belonging.
Some just need an escape.
And all of them — every single one — make up the base that holds English football up.
England don't qualify for World Cups without the ecosystem beneath them. The smallest pitches feed the largest stage. The biggest moments begin in the most ordinary places.
So yeah, England are going to the 2026 World Cup. They'll be on the world stage, under bright lights, playing for a whole country. But somewhere else across England, the next generation is still forming.
Maybe they're already playing professionally today.
Maybe they're U15 like me.
Maybe they're second-choice striker right now.
Maybe they're someone with talent but no confidence yet.
Maybe they're a kid whose coach keeps telling them: “You've got something.”
Whoever they are, they'll go through the same grassroots journey the current England squad did — the graft, the cold mornings, the mistakes, the moments where football feels amazing, and the moments where it feels heavy.
If you've made it this far, thank you for reading! Football is so much more than what happens on the pitch, and it's time we talk more about the mental battles that define players' careers. If this article resonated with you, share it with your teammates, coaches, and fellow football fans. Let's keep the conversation going and help more young players navigate the game's toughest challenges. Stay tuned for more on Pitch Side Journal—and see you back here soon!
