The rise of the kid-friendly soccer hooligans

You hear the March to the Match before you see it. 

Hundreds of ecstatic soccer fans, in formation, flags and scarves waving in the breeze, chants and drums piercing the sky. And some days in Indianapolis, you may catch some pint-sized standard bearers, the youngest diehard supporters, leading the way. 

These are the NextGen Ultras, the kid-driven division of The Brickyard Battalion (BYB), the umbrella supporters association for Indy Eleven.

Katherine Reed, former President of the BYB and current Vice President of the Independent Supporters Council, an umbrella organization for supporters groups in North American soccer, says NextGen Ultras formed organically and is not meant to be exclusive or flashy and formal, but a way to make kids in the section feel seen and important. 

“We wanted to get kids into the capo [chant leader] stands and make them feel like they matter,” she says. “If you love this team and love this crest, you are just as important as anyone else. If you are a kid in the section, you are a NextGen Ultra; we call you that.” 

NextGen Ultras and The BYB are part of a growing trend in North American soccer of supporters groups finding ways to build community with children and families while maintaining their authenticity and unique identity.

Soccer supporters culture for all-ages

Marc and Gina Winkler had been around soccer supporters' culture in St. Louis for years when their daughter, Zoey, was born. One day, when Zoey was refusing to go down for a nap, Marc jokingly referred to her as “the founding member of the No Nap City Ultras.” Gina responded that would be a good name for a group, and the couple launched No Nap City Ultras, a supporters group for families with young children who want to do the supporter experience together, sporting the slogans “90-plus minutes, if we’re lucky” and “as ultra as a bowl of loose Cheerios.”  

“[St. Louis City FC is] a new team,” says Marc Winkler, the group’s Vice President (his wife Gina is acting President, but technically Zoey is the real president, he says). “We want families to see the supporters section. Sometimes parents are skeptical, but you can come over and see we’re one big family.”

Navigating a growing and intense supporter community — and a section with a three-year-old ticket waitlist, according to Winkler — can be intimidating. No Nap City helps families connect to the community and each other through a really active Slack discussion where supporters can share resources, from finding kids’ indoor soccer clubs to a ticket exchange to give newcomers and their families a chance to experience the supporter atmosphere.

“Just by being out there, by being supporters and having fun, that’s contagious,” Winkler says. “We can be the resource and build that bridge.” 

The BYB, Reed says, operates on two principles — that it welcomes everyone, and it’s also fiercely itself, unchanging regardless of who comes into the section. Coarse language is a natural part of the supporter experience, and Reed says to manage and clearly communicate expectations with families, the BYB hangs signage that tells families and children are welcome, but adult language will be heard, with an offer to reseat families who do not want to experience that.

“It’s interesting to pin having an independent supporter culture with the ability to say ‘f**k’ a lot, but it’s a simple measuring stick,” Reed says. “The basic language rights seems to be an interesting way to gauge how much independence the group has.”

Reed advises supporters groups to work with their club operations to ensure the supporters’ section is open access, where children who might be overwhelmed by the loud and rowdy environment can come and go as they please. 

In some cases, a broader vision of an inclusive, comfortable supporters group has led to a welcoming space for families. In New Mexico, Suzi Montaño, her husband RJ and two friends had a vision for a New Mexico United supporters group focused on serving the community first and being loud and rowdy at soccer games second. That group, Galactic Ambassadors, a friendly take on New Mexico’s Roswell image, has grown to about 15 members since their 2022 launch. 

“By focusing on everybody, we get children and families,” Montaño says. “We have folks that are different races, folks that are different sexualities and gender identities, people who are sober – that is not something that’s really prioritized in soccer supporters groups.”

Galactic Ambassadors offers a supporter experience that is less intense. Fans can talk to one another. They can sit. And that slow, intentional approach extends into the group organizing as well, acknowledging the volunteer capacity of parents, especially of school-age children, when schoolwork and their own activities may take precedence. 

“We’re trying to be thoughtful in our approach, and that includes preserving the energy of leadership,” Montaño says. “It’s a balance of how much energy do we have as leadership and as supporters to make sure that we’re avoiding burnout versus doing things as quickly as possible.”

Like most supporters groups, No Nap City produces its own merch, created by Gina Winkler, a graphic artist. Merch often features Tiki-Taka, a wacky, spiral-eyed creature embodying the group’s spirit (“a little bit of wonder, a little bit of terror,” says Marc Winkler), along with stickers inspired by characters that both kids and their parents know well, including Baby Shark and Bluey. “We like to have fun and keep it kid-relevant,” Winkler says. “Bluey’s popular with the kids and in our household.

Bluey inspired another No Nap City Ultras fixture — the claw machine. The first time Winkler brought the tabletop game out for a watch party, the kids swarmed the table and within five minutes, all the merch they had filled it with was gone. They still bring it out for tailgates before big matches, filled with special prizes for the kids, and use it to supplement supporter-led charity fundraisers. 

When Galactic Ambassadors support tailgate events, they try to be a post where people can chill and decompress from the sensory overload and the New Mexico sun. They’ve had crafts for younger supporters, a wide selection of alcoholic beverages, and entice with fun theming, including a cute alien mascot.

But what they’ve realized with their own children is that they don’t have to modify supporter activities to be more “kid-friendly.” “Kids want to learn the songs and chants, they want to paint tifos, they want to help out with things how they are,” she says.

Initially, Reed was known to the community by her relationship to two beloved Indy Eleven community fixtures – her father, Frank, and her son, Elliott, who lives and breathes soccer. “Everyone said hi to Elliott before they said hi to me,” Reed says. “And then as he grew up, I wanted to give back more to the community that showed him so much love.” 

Reed says she’s experienced the same garden-variety misogyny and gatekeeping many female sports fans will recognize, and that being both a mom and a representative for the community has led her to be aware of the hats she wears and how to better take up space. “When I’m working with the front office, I’m making sure they treat me with as much respect as my male predecessors and that they don’t treat me differently because I’m a mom,” she says. “It’s the same conversation.” 

And Elliott, now 13, is an example of how the community has embraced a young supporter. At home, he loved watching the BYB from the family’s sideline seats and would run to talk to the supporters in the section at halftime. Starting at away matches, longtime BYB members would teach him how to wave flags and hold a two-pole. But for Reed, the most important lessons he’s learned from being engaged in the community go beyond flags and chants.

“It’s been incredible to watch him grow as a person and to learn how to interact with and accept and love people from diverse backgrounds, learn that he can count on people even though they’re not blood family,” Reed says. “There are hundreds of people who would do anything for him. He has watched me defend people in our group and fight for the things that matter, and that’s been an honor to do those things in front of him.”

For Galactic Ambassadors, part of creating an environment that welcomes all is holding the club accountable and setting a positive example for the next generation. When the group first began, they noticed that ExxonMobil was a club sponsor, and held meetings with the front office to express their opposition and created a tifo to raise awareness about the negative environmental impact of that sponsorship. “We had four of us at the time who were standing up for future generations and being able to bring that perspective to the front office,” Montaño says. “I think that’s when we realized we can do a lot of good, even if we are a small group and go a little slower and more thoughtfully.”

For Montaño, the advice is simple: listen and keep an open mind. She advises supporters to listen to people who are from different parts of the community, do away with assumptions, and to not be afraid of creating something that doesn’t look like a “traditional” soccer supporters group.

“The four of us co-founders didn’t know each other until we started going to games together,” Montaño says. “I met [cofounder Jake Gutierrez] via Twitter at first. Building that community, using soccer as your shared passion, is a great way to start delving into these aspects of what makes everyone comfortable in a supporters environment.” 

Reed advises supporters groups to communicate clearly and often, both about section rules and that the section is welcome to anyone who wants to participate. For example, BYB leaders wear rainbow captain armbands to designate themselves as ambassadors and open to helping newcomers. She also encourages supporters to invite kids to hold flags and get up in the capo stand to lead chants, to let other kids see they have a place in the community.

“Our first kid capo graduated from high school last year,” she says. “It’s neat to see these kids grow up in this environment.”

Winkler says for supporters groups looking to become more welcoming to families — “it’s already there — you just need to embrace it a little bit more.” He encourages supporters to keep an eye out for kids who are staying close to the drums at the pre-match party or otherwise engaged and offer them a flag to wave or another way to participate. If Winkler sees a kid who has been in the supporters section for the whole game, he will give them a scarf. “It takes someone looking out and seeing this kid wants to be involved,” he says.

As a parent, he knows it can be stressful. At a large, sensory overload event, it can be difficult to know how children will react. But when it does click, he says, the fun they have waving the flags and singing the chants on the way home makes it worth it. “It’s all about making memories,” Winkler says. “Don’t be afraid. Just try it.” 

And Winkler would know. On her first visit to CITYPARK, Zoey fell asleep on the March to the Match. He expected the family would need to leave early, but she stayed awake and engaged the entire 90 minutes. The Winklers have a photo from that match framed and hung on their wall, of Zoey, in her father’s arms, awestruck and reaching up to touch the tifo over her head.

“When you have that core memory made with your child, it’s all worth it.”