The Language of Soccer

 
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Writing and playing have always been passions of mine, so the language of soccer is naturally an interest as well—all the various words and phrases players use to communicate on and off the pitch. Some are universal, like “man on” and “play simple,” while others are more esoteric.   

I think back to freshman year in high school, summer double sessions, when an upper classman barked at me to “six it!” during scrimmage play. I took a touch of the ball and incurred his fast wrath, only to later learn that “six it” was code for “dummy,” or let the ball pass through your legs to the trailing player (from the six position on an analog clock face). 

Watching Belgium’s game-winning goal unfold in its World Cup match against Japan (picture above), I wondered if Nacer Chadli said something like that to his teammate Romelu Lukaku, inducing what one commentator called “the greatest dummy in World Cup history.”

We’ll probably never know. Like I said, much of the best soccer lingo is only understood by those in the know. Here are a bunch I’ve been hearing lately. Got others? Ping me in the comment box below, or reach out on Facebook or Instagam.        

“Different level” This one comes from the Sunday pickup game I play with out in Jersey. When a baller there makes a particularly sublime play, a teammate will recognize it with “different level.” It’s often awarded for deft tactical maneuvers, say a needle-threading pass that splits the defense or a no-look heel flick reminiscent of Mbappé in the WC finals.                   

“House” A variation on “man on,” used to warn teammates that a defender is closing in fast. I first heard the term from one my Jersey mates, who says it’s short for “in your house.” Checking Google, it seems to be common among Irish ballers, so the Emerald Isle might be its original source.

“Bangu” Another tactical command, used to tell a player who is dribbling towards the opposition’s baseline to play the ball back at an angle into the penalty box.

I also like to say “six” in this situation, referring to the six-yard line. That’s not to be confused with “six it,” described above. Though I recall one memorable goal from high school, where the two terms collided. I was making the attacking diagonal run into the box and called “six” to my teammate on the baseline. As his centering pass came in, I heard “Danny, six it!” from our trailing midfielder. I obliged with a dummy, freezing their keeper in his tracks as my teammate tapped the ball into the open net.           

“Olé” Popular with Spanish-speaking players, from its associations with bullfighting, where crowds cheer the matador on with chants of “olé.” On the pitch, it usually accompanies a special play, say a dazzling strike or stellar defensive take down, but I’ve also heard it after serious mishits, like the shot that sails twenty feet over the cross bar.

“The only thing worse than your first touch is your second” There are no shortage of insults exchanged between players, often in good fun. Here’s one that might be directed at a player who’s having a particularly rough go of it. It reminds me of one my high school coach used on me once: “DiClerico, you couldn’t score in a whore house with a stack of fifties.” Ah, the 90s…     

“Magic Ball” This one comes out a lot during games with Fort Greene Football Club, especially among West Indian ballers, though it’s been adopted by everybody out there. It’s like “different level” and "olé," recognizing exceptional skill or creativity.

“Modelo” Here’s another favorite from the Jersey game, issued when a player is the ignominious victim of a nutmeg. According to tradition, his first drink during the post-match libations will have to be one of the Mexican cervezas, an inferior brew with this bock and lager loving crew.       

“Second Ball” A battle cry for a player who just fought for a fifty-fifty ball that wasn’t won decisively by either side. Beyond that specific usage, I hear it applied more broadly to motivate players and/or teams to turn up the intensity.

There are, of course, other motivational phrases out there, including ones with far more colorful language. “BMF” comes to mind. Its translation isn’t fit for print, but if you ever hear it out on the pitch, with a defender bearing down on you hard, brace yourself. You’re about to get banged. 

Daniel DiClerico