Playing With Integrity: The Hidden Curriculum of Soccer

I have taught Advanced Placement (AP) Psychology, (AP) Research and Diploma Program Economics, all collegiate-level or highly complex courses that demand intellectual rigor. Yet, in many ways, the hardest part of teaching for me these past 15 years has not been inside the classroom, it has been coaching soccer. Unlike academic courses, where students attend for grades, credits, and university admissions, soccer is a choice. Players do not need to train to graduate. They do not earn grade point average (GPA) points for showing up. And, most importantly, success is not measured by individual performance on an exam but by the collective achievements of the team. This is where the hidden curriculum of soccer comes into play.

As the Center for Teaching & Learning at Boston University explains, "Hidden curriculum refers to an amorphous collection of 'implicit academic, social, and cultural messages,' 'unwritten rules and unspoken expectations,' and 'unofficial norms, behaviors, and values' of the dominant-culture context in which all teaching and learning is situated" (Boston University, n.d.).

Soccer, too, has a hidden curriculum. If the official curriculum consists of passing, shooting, defending, dribbling, and scoring goals, then one of the most important hidden lessons is learning integrity. Integrity is one of the hardest things to teach, yet one of the most valuable things to learn. It cannot be confined to a single training session. It must be emphasized day in and day out at practice, the locker room, and in everyday interactions.

• Do players show up on time?
• Do they clean up after themselves?
• Do they lift each other up on and off the pitch?
• Do they respect referees, opponents, and teammates?

These small moments define a player’s character far more than their ability to score a goal or make a perfect through pass. And in many ways, these are the hardest skills to teach.

Learning the Lesson the Hard Way

As a coach, I emphasize building a culture of integrity, not because it is easy, but because it is necessary. In many ways, this is the true challenge of coaching. I know this because I once struggled with it myself. In high school, I was a talented player, at least by international school standards. I was the best player at my school, and I knew it. I played selfishly, focusing on my own goals, my own assists, my own stats. Yet, despite my individual talent, my team never won anything. Looking back, I realize that our Class of 2005 may have been one of the least successful in our school's history when it came to soccer. I was part of the problem.

I lacked humility. I did not put the team first. It took me years to understand that success in soccer, like success in life, depends on more than just individual ability. It depends on culture, character, and commitment to something greater than oneself. I was fortunate enough to realize this lesson before my high school career ended. After being humbled by our main rivals, suffering 0-5 and 1-5 defeats during the season, I finally woke up. By the halfway point of my senior season, I began to understand: the team was bigger than me. In the final month of the season, I actively tried to adjust my attitude, to become a team-first player. And suddenly, we started to find more success, both on and off the pitch. The team was gelling together. We knew we were major underdogs, but we went into our final tournament as high schoolers with hopes to create a miracle. As the season culminated in the Kanto Plains tournament, we made a deep run. We got through the group stages, and would go on to beat the other team in the semifinals, advancing to the final round. We led 2-0 in the final minutes. Then, in the final three minutes of the game, we conceded two penalties, and the match went to a penalty shootout, where we ultimately lost.

On the drive home, my father did not mention the two goals I scored in the semifinals or the free kick I scored in the finals. Instead, he told me how proud he was of how we as a team conducted ourselves on the pitch. Despite the controversial calls from the official, not a single player argued with the referee. After the match, we shook hands with our opponents and said, "Good game."

My father could have focused on the goals I scored or complained about the officiating. Instead, he chose to highlight the importance of integrity, and highlighted to me the team's successes and not my personal ones—a lesson I still live by today and carry with me as a coach. Looking back, this was the pivotal moment of my soccer career.

Fast Forward to 2025 – Coaching at AISR

Now, 20 years later, I coach the U16 team at the American School of Riyadh (AISR). Throughout the season, I emphasized the same lessons I received in the hidden curriculum of my youth. Be a team player—and a person—of integrity.

At the tournament, my boys played their hearts out. They advanced from the group stage with two wins and one loss, including two last-second goals that kept their hopes alive. But in the quarterfinals, they fell to the other team and their tournament ended. Despite the loss, there was one statistic that stood out to me when I was reviewing the results of the tournament—a  statistic that proved that although we didn’t win the cup, we had a successful season. A yellow card is a formal warning given by the referee to a player for unsporting behavior, persistent fouling, or other rule violations.

Even more notable? Many of the first and second place team’s yellow cards came from dissent and shouting at the referee. I do not bring up these statistics to criticize the first-place team. Yellow cards are part of the game. Complaining to referees does help you win calls that can ultimately decide the game at times.

But at the high school level, I return to the bigger question:

• How do we build students with integrity?
• Is a person of integrity someone who constantly complains to get their way?
• Is a person of integrity someone who plays dirty?
• Should the sole focus be on winning alone?

I would never diminish the importance of a high school tournament; I still remember how important it was to me. But if I had to choose, I would rather coach a team that finishes in the quarter finals with players of integrity than a team that wins tournaments but leaves with 20+ yellow cards and a reputation for poor sportsmanship. For those of us who have been involved with the sport for a long time, we know the game is much bigger than trophies. Not to mention, at the end of the day, the trophies won at the international school level are not leading to any professional contract.

I don’t have the answers. But I do know this; if I must choose between building winners or building players of character, I will always choose character. Athletic Directors, parents, and coaches, what does success mean for your teams?

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