Is it too late to become a soccer fan?

The men’s World Cup has been going on since last month, and I wish I knew more about soccer to better appreciate the action that’s transpired so far.

I’m familiar with some World Cup details, such as Argentina’s quest for the title — more specifically, star player Lionel Messi’s pursuit of the one accolade left out of his illustrious career.

Argentina escaped the group play stage and faces the Netherlands next, which is notable because the Dutch are responsible for the United States’ exit before the round of 16 knockout stage.

The U.S. squad turned out a surprisingly strong performance itself, matching the talent of more experienced teams to make it to the cusp of the knockout stage.

I feel like many people in Hawaii were rooting for Japan and South Korea, the early Cinderellas of the World Cup after defeating more acclaimed teams like Germany and Spain in group play. Though both teams were ousted Monday by Croatia and Brazil, respectively, they drew a lot of attention for their impressive runs.

Looking beyond this soccer tournament, the U.S. women’s national team is another worthy reason to get into the sport. I was well into my athletic period when Brandi Chastain kicked the World Cup-winning goal against China in 1999 and sparked an explosion of enthusiasm for women’s soccer.

Despite all this, I still find it hard to be a fan.

For one, I didn’t grow up playing soccer; I was not involved in recreational keiki leagues and in grade school I stuck to the sports on offer — volleyball, basketball and track and field.

Also, soccer just seems so exhausting. All that running and kicking and heading and running into other players and you can’t even use your hands? I am a runner, and I can’t imagine doing much more than moving my feet at a consistent pace — no need for fancy footwork or a skull of steel.

Pre-pandemic, when I used to run on the treadmill at the gym all the time, I could never do it in front of a television playing a soccer match. Watching other people run while I was running just made me tired. (Or maybe I was secretly jealous of the athletes’ talent and was dejected instead.)

But, at the root of it all, I’m just not a good soccer player. In fact, I’m pretty horrible.

My one memory of an earnest attempt at playing comes from grade school, when a P.E. game turned into a comedic moment for my classmates because I swung my foot mightily toward the rolling ball — only to miss spectacularly. If I had any taste for soccer then, it was eliminated quickly.

I want to get over this unfortunate personal history, though, for the sake of my toddler daughter, who has energy and attitude to spare. Her innate athleticism and stamina make her perfect for participation in sports, but it’s been hard to figure out just which one.

We don’t exactly have the funds to toss her into every single league, so we want to make sure she enjoys what we might eventually sign her up for.

Sadly, I think her soccer skills are not much better than mine. She runs like the wind and kicks like a horse, but combining the two actions — well, let’s just say watching her try to kick a ball while running is a practice in humorous futility.

Luckily she still has lots of time to develop a knack for soccer, or whatever sports she’d like to pursue. And in the meantime, the World Cup is still going on, so she can watch the action and find out if she likes what she sees.