football and soccer

I’m very pleased to present a guest blog by one of my students at the University of Sussex. The author, Elize Holyoake, recently completed our English in the United States module and will be entering her third year in the BA English Language and Linguistics in the autumn. I’m grateful to her for researching and writing this post!



Every four years since its inauguration in 1930, the FIFA World Cup has brought together teams from all over the world to share the love of one sport. Since this year it was hosted by North American countries Canada, Mexico, and the USA, it is time to call into question a linguistic competition within this competition: is the beloved game soccer or football?


British and American fans have long debated the name of the game played by two teams with a round ball that's kicked or headed across a field. Fans back their own naming preference with as much enthusiasm as they have for their national teams. Reddit user EdHamden on r/soccer has created colo(u)red world map (relying on information from Wikipedia), with a key indicating which term is preferred: 

A colour-coded world map. There is a colour key in the bottom, where pink is labelled as ‘literal translations and variations of football', blue is ‘variations of soccer' and green is ‘other etymologies'. Most of the map, such as Africa, Europe, Mexico and South America are pink. North America, Oceania, South Africa, and Ireland are blue. Islands in East Asia, like the Philippines, are green.

(via r/soccer, Reddit 2017)


Here, we can see that the US prefers soccer, whereas the UK has football, which is also the globally popular choice. However, both have the same meaning, and both have been circulating since the late 1800s. Some of the OED’s first cited uses of football were from Essex and India: 

I.2.b.
1863–
Chiefly British. The game governed by the rules of the Football Association and played with a round ball between two teams of eleven players on a rectangular field having goalposts at either end, the object being to score the most goals by kicking or heading the ball into the opposing team's goal. Cf. soccer n.
With the exception of Ireland (see note at I.2e), the usual term in most of the rest of the English-speaking world is soccer. In New Zealand and South Africa use of both football and soccer is common.
  1. 1863
    Football.—A meeting of the Captains of Clubs has been held at Freemasons' Tavern for promoting the adoption of a general code of rules.
    Essex Standard 4 November
  2. 1890
    A game of football, under the Association rules, was played on the Cooperage ground yesterday afternoon.
    Times of India 10 October 3/2
  3. 1927
    The principal games for inter-school contests are football in the autumn and winter and cricket in the spring and summer.
    H. J. Savage, Games & Sports in Brit. Schools & Universities iii. 56
  4. 1995
    The popularity of football eventually developed a momentum of its own.
    T. Mason, Passion of People? viii. 120
  5. 2014
    It is possible to quibble whether the sport should be referred to in Australia as football or soccer—the latter to differentiate it from Australian football.
    Age (Melbourne) (Nexis) 13 August 63

For soccer, the first citation is for a 1885 game at Oxford written about in the Oldhallian: 

Originally colloquial.
  1. 1885–
    The game of football as played under the rules of the Football Association; cf. football n. I.2b.
    Recorded earliest in soccer game n.
    Football is the more usual term in Britain and Ireland, except in cases where it is necessary to distinguish soccer from other forms of football.
    1. 1885
      This was pre-eminently the most important ‘Socker’ game played in Oxford this term.
      Oldhallian December 171
    2. 1890
      Were he to be asked what was his most pleasant recollection of Oxford life, [the average man] would reply, if he belonged to the later development, ‘footer’, or ‘socker’, or ‘the togger’.
      Longman's Magazine July 325
    3. 1894
      The rival attractions of ‘rugger’ and ‘socker’.
      Westminster Gazette 11 January 7/1
    4. 1924
      However any sane person could prefer soccer to cricket the good little Horace totally failed to comprehend.
      H. de Sélincourt, Cricket Match iv. 83
    5. 1935
      No one more thoroughly qualified to write the history of ‘soccer’..can be imagined.
      Punch 24 April 476/2
    6. 1971
      All you need to play soccer is a ball, a field and players.
      L. Koppett, New York Times Guide to Spectator Sports xii. 193
    7. 2001
      A game of soccer in the snow with both sexes and several generations joining in.
      Observer 15 July (Review section) 9/5

Why have two different words for the same definition? The why of the divide is found in another side of historical context: social class in England. 


As mentioned in the OED definition, English sporting communities in the late 1800s coined soccer. In particular, this was specific to university students from the upper classes (such as those attending Oxford) who played under the new “Association Football” rules. 


A June 2026 BBC article notes that that wealthy students at the time had “a habit of shortening words and adding ‘-er’ to the end” to make slang terms. For example: breakfast becomes brekker, rugby became rugger. The soc in soccer comes from association in association football plus that -er suffix. On his blog Scottish Sport History, sports historian Andy Mitchell states that soccer and rugger were coined at the same time. The Britannica encyclop(a)edia site claims that students first contracted association football down to assoccer or asoccer before finally reaching soccer or socker.  [Ed: see Ben Zimmer's further research in comments below, though!]


Over time, preferences for the two terms for the sport have changed, especially in the UK.  I used Google Ngram Viewer to analy{s/z}e the various names for soccer/football in British English books to see if they have died out or maintained popularity. The spelling of assoccer gave no results. We can also see that football is the more popular option to refer to the game, with soccer not growing as much since its first use. (Football, of course, can refer to other games as well, but in BrE it most usually refers to soccer.)


A Google Ngrams Viewer plotted result of the words football, asoccer, soccer and association football in British English between the years eighteen fifty and twenty twenty-two. On the plot, asoccer does not show up. The plot line for football is blue, and starts rising from 1850, growing rising in the 1990s and staying high in 2022. The line for soccer is red, starting at zero in 1800 until around 1940, only growing a little bit over the decades. The line for association football is green and has not risen at all compared to the other two words.

The word soccer also left the UK, becoming popular in other countries, including the US. Referring back to our introductory map, these soccer-saying nations include Australia and South Africa. This curious use of soccer in these anglophone countries may be because of the prior existence of other sports called football in those places. North America, notably, has its first intercollegiate "foot-ball" game (using rugby-like rules) in November 1869, sixteen years before the word soccer came to be. This game was an intercollegiate competition between Princeton and Rutgers universities. 


But this version of football does not match the type that was (and is to this day) played in the UK. American football allows the ball to be held while/whilst running with it and full-body tackling to gain possession. None of this is allowed in its British English counterpart without at least a red card or match suspension! The games are even scored differently.

For Brits to understand what Americans (or Australians or South Africans) mean by football, we need something extra. I know this myself as a born-and-bred Brit. If someone were to talk to me about the US version of football, they would have to specify which kind they were talking about with some form of pre-modification. This usually means adding a noun to further describe the meaning. For the US game, this would be American before football so that I do not assume they’re talking about the UK version, which comes as a given to me. 

modifiers of "football" Gaelic	 gaelic football League	 Premier League football rugby	 rugby football Scottish	 of Scottish football • usually in: W_misc ? non-League	 non-League football play	 play football Division	 Second Division football league	 league football English	 English football Premier	 Premier League football team	 first team football first-team	 of first-team football


A Word Sketch from the Sketch Engine tool shows words that pre-modify the word football in the British National Corpus. The top five words include Gaelic and rugby, which distinguish non-soccer kinds of football from the usual BrE meaning of football. (Ed: League might occur in phrases like Premier League football, i.e. soccer, or in Rugby League football, i.e. not-soccer.)


This kind of pre-modification is more particular to British English than American English because American English has soccer to help distinguish, whereas British English requires the American before football to be able to communicate the difference between the two. This also works out in the UK for Gaelic football, which, similar to the US version, comes with its own set of distinguishable rules from the BrE football. 


So, blowing the final whistle on the deliberation between soccer and football, both are equally as valid as one another as description of “the beautiful game”, dependent on which nation you are in. In the US, if the ball cannot be held, its soccer only, and if it can be, it is football. In the UK, football is king; if the ball is held, you’re referencing American football or another sport entirely: rugby. 


Related posts

Name-clipping (2006): see the comments for more on social class 

World Cup words (2006)

fixtures and brackets (2022)

Up the Albion! (2007)



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shouty!

 In April, Jody V. sent me a link to this New York Times article with the note "I noticed the word shouty in this piece. I can’t recall having seen the word used in an American publication before."

NY Times screeenshot. Headline: Opinion Europe is done with appeasing Trump. Photo: group of European leaders walking away from camera behind barriers that say "European Council"


Here it is in the context of the article:

But in a social media post after talks with Mr. Rutte, the president reiterated his ire and threw in Greenland for good measure: “NATO WASN’T THERE WHEN WE NEEDED THEM, AND THEY WON’T BE THERE IF WE NEED THEM AGAIN. REMEMBER GREENLAND, THAT BIG, POORLY RUN, PIECE OF ICE!!!”

At least there was no new talk of leaving NATO, for now. The shouty missive elicited no major pushback from foreign leaders. This was Mr. Trump being Mr. Trump: tedious, repetitive, vulgar.


Indeed, shouty is a very British word.  The Oxford English Dictionary defines it as:     
    Characterized by shouting. Of a person: inclined to shout, habitually shouting. Of a sound (esp. the human voice): having a harsh quality comparable to shouting; strident, loud.
But as the NYT example shows, one can be shouty without using the voice: the shouty missive is so characteri{s/z}ed because of its shouty all-caps typing. 

Though the OED traces shouty back to the late 19th century, it only starts to show up in any numbers in British books in the 1990s (and really takes off around 2000), as shown in the Google Books Ngram graph below. Before that point, it was probably used in speech more than in print. 


 

The prevalence of this voice-related word in 21st-century writing might have something to do with how we've started using the (electronically) written word in place of our physical voices. Shouty is now almost as likely to refer, as it did in NYT, to text as to oral communication. In the British portion of the News on the Web corpus, for example, two of the top five collocating nouns for shouty are capitals and caps:

NOW corpus results: shouty man 28, shouty men 16, shouty capitals 15, shouty people 13,  shouty caps 11

The fact that shouty has shown up in the New York Times is more Ben Yagoda's beat than mine, but it's not one he's covered yet on his Not One-Off Britishisms blog. It's nice to see that the author of the piece, Serge Schmemann, is 81. It just goes to show that one's vocabulary grows throughout life and trendy British slang isn't just for the [used more in AmE] young'uns.

But Americans, Schmemann aside, seem a bit old-fashioned in using shouty more for vocal quality than for text quality, as shown in the US portion of NOW:

NOW corpus results: shouty vocals 7, shouty guy 6, shouty voice6, shouty chef 4, shouty people 4, shouty excitement 3, shouty -- 3, shouty caps 3, shouty capitals 3, shouty person 3




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how big (of) a problem?

Tibs wrote to me in October 2020:

     A few years ago, Americans started adding “of” in places it didn’t occur before. It gradually spread into books, and across the atlantic to here as well.  

I don’t have an exact timing - less than 10 years?  

I find it hard to remember examples, because it’s become part of the scenery, but it’s always a case where leaving out the “of” leaves the meaning identical  

For instance: not that big [of] a deal ... as ordinary [of] a childhood as possible (this one from The Boys on Netflix)

My apologies, Tibs, for making you wait so long. Here we go!

What is it?

Linguist Harold Allen gave the change a tongue-in-cheek name: the Big of Syndrome. The adjective involved need not be big, of course. (Still, I'll use big of a lot here, because that makes it easy to find examples.)

Let's look at the elements of a big-of expression:
  • an adverbial element (e.g., as, how, quite, so, this/that, too) that's indicating 'measurement' of the adjective
  • a gradable adjective  (i.e. the ones that can go with those 'measurement' expressions)
  • of  [which is not there in the older form]
  • an indefinite noun phrase: usually one starting with a or an like an idea or a child; more unusually, you can find it with an indefinite (i.e. bare) plural or, even more rarely, a bare non-count noun [see examples 3 and 4 below, respectively]. 
That gives us the possibility of phrases like these (from the Corpus of Contemporary American English):
  1. cacao provides habitat that is of as high of a quality as their natural forests (wisc.edu)
  2. Seems like I took too long of a break.(ER [tv])
  3.  no matter how great their sacrifice or how big of heroes they might be (comment on a CNN blog)
  4. I asked him about how big of threat is ISIS to America's national security (CBS Face the Nation)
Notice in example 3 we have both the traditional structure—how+ADJ+NOUN PHRASE (in blue)—and the new structure how+ADJ+of+NOUN PHRASE. Even if you have the big-of syndrome, you don't add of if the adjective precedes a definite noun phrase like the heroes or their sacrifice. And example 4—it's just a bit too weird, but we'll come back to that. 

Why did people start saying it?

There are two reasons that big a deal might become big of a deal. One is that both of and a reduce to [É™] ('uh') in informal or fast speech. So, people hearing big É™ deal might internali{s/z}e and learn it as big a deal or big of deal. I think that might be what's going on with example 4 —it might be that the transcript of the television program[me] has mistaken a threat for of threat and it's not really an example of big of + non-count noun.

But big of a deal has both of and a; we'd probably expect there to be two syllables even in fast speech. So I'm not convinced that the 'reduced pronunciation' explanation can explain the whole situation. I think we need the second reason. 

The second reason is that this seems to be a case of analogical change. To quote Lyle Campbell: 

     In analogical change, one pattern or piece of the language changes to become more like another pattern or piece of the language, where speakers perceive the changing part as similar to the pattern or piece that it changes to be more like. (2020: 87)

The pattern that big-of sayers are imitating is the pattern that English already uses for much, as in: 
      How much of a problem is that going to be? Too much of a problem.
No one says *How much a problem or *Too much a problem.

Why would anyone try to make how big a problem more like how much of a problem? Well, first, you can probably see the semantic similarity there: both are asking about the extent of the problem. So, they may be perceived as belonging to the same pattern.  (Interestingly, how much of a is fairly rare in the 19th century according to the Corpus of Historical American English. Too much of a is older. But I can't distract myself with that right now. I've already spent a whole day on this post.)

There's probably also some discomfort with the (standard) of-less version due to the fact that we don't usually have adjectives before noun phrases (big a problem). Adjectives usually go in noun phrases (a big problem). When noun phrases seem unconnected to other parts of an English sentence, of is often the glue that sticks the noun onto the sentence. Since of is the most semantically empty (meaningless) preposition, it makes no difference to the meaning of the phrase if we add it in.

When did people start saying it? And which people?

Harold Allen named The Big of Syndrome in the mid–late 1980s (he had died in 1988 before his [AmE linguist-speak] squib was published in American Speech). Allen had noticed expressions like this big of a crowd and that nice of a day ("an innovating syntactic aberration") in the Minnesota speech around him, and urged linguists to study it further. Linda Rapp took up the call and published another short article in 1991. 

Rapp found several examples from 1943 in Harold Wentworth's 1944 American Dialect Dictionary. Wentworth's examples seem to be from West Virginia and central Florida. Another early-ish example (1962) comes from The Andy Griffith Show, which takes place in a (fictional) small town in North Carolina. So those seem like hints that it might have come from the inland southeast. 

But since, unlike Rapp, I'm working in the Age of Linguistic Corpora, I've been able to find some earlier examples. These are from the Movie Corpus.

1932US/CAThe Death Kiss  If I'm any good of a guesser, he ought to be here by now. 
1939US/CAThe Little Princess  a cup of tea? - Oh no thank you. We're in too big of a hurry. Oh, I see. 
1942TV/MOVLure of the Surf  All right. Here. (Miles) I really think it's not that big of a deal. 

I had a quick look for the screenwriters' birthplaces—The Death Kiss = Alabama and Hungary and The Little Princess = California and Wisconsin. No one will admit to writing Lure of the Surf (which was apparently mocked for promoting sea fishing while sensible people were worried about U-boats), but the 'self-narrator' was from the Bronx. So, only one of those writers fits with the inland-southeast origin story. All of this is pointing to it being widespread in spoken American English even earlier. If people were saying it in (orig. AmE) movies without comment in the 1930s, it must have felt at least somewhat natural by then. 

Still, before the 1980s, the corpus examples are few and far between. Allen wrote about the "syndrome" just as this pattern was finding real purchase in published English as well as spoken, with that big of a deal leading the way:
     Tibs thought he'd only heard the pattern in the past decade. That could be due to Recency Illusion, or it could be that people in Britain just didn't hear it (or read it) much until the internet age. Sticking with big and deal (because the numbers are easiest to see), we can see it really taking off in the 2000s in published and performed American English. (Sorry, the text in these screenshots is not very clear, but know that the darker the blue, the more typical of a decade the phrase is. We can see big of a deal strongly associated with the 2000s, and much more so the 2010s. Neither of these corpora go into the 2020s.)

big of a deal in COCA
big of a deal in The Movie Corpus

Just to underscore the Americanness of the expression: at the right end of the Movie Corpus screenshot, it shows that 145 of the examples came from a North American film. Only 4 came from British or Irish films. 

Is it British yet?

The of has been coming to Britain, as Tibs noted. The table below shows how often big of a deal/difference occur per million words in the Corpus of Global Web-Based English (collected in 2012–13) and the News on the Web corpus (2010-now). In the news corpus, the BrE rate is 4 times lower than the AmE rate for each expression. The news data has a lot fewer of these expressions, presumably because the corpus has more professionally composed and edited text. 


 US 2010s
web
   UK 2010s
web
    US 2010+
news
    UK 2010+
news
big of a deal  .78 .14.36.09
big of a difference  .06 .03.04.01

And how is the old version doing?


Even though the of version is on the rise, the of-less version is still standard in print—in both countries.  


This might be too long (of) a post, but I hope it's got(ten) the job done!

Other SbaCL posts about of


References

Allen, Harold B. 1989. The Big of Syndrome. American Speech 64, 94–96. https://doi.org/10.2307/455116 
Campbell, Lyle. 2020. Historical Linguistics: An Introduction. Edinburgh University Press. 
Rapp, Linda L. 1991. The Big of Syndrome: An Update. American Speech 66, 213–20. doi:10.2307/455893.
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administration and government

It's about time this topic has its own blog post. It's been an aside to other discussions on several occasions. It's not so much a difference between American and British English per se, but a difference in how our political systems work, and hence a difference in which words we need to use about them. 

PM's Question Time at UK parliament (Wikimedia commons)
Because the UK has a parliamentary system of government, the political party that controls the parliament is the ruling party of the government as a whole. So, people talk about the Labour government or the Conservative government when that party has the majority of seats in the House of Commons, since that party chooses the person who will be prime minister, who then makes the political appointments to cabinet positions. Those people of that party are, essentially, governing. 

The US has a presidential system, in which the president is elected independently of the legislature. The executive (presidential) and legislative branches of government are accorded their own powers, and the party in control of the executive branch may not be in control of either or both of the legislative chambers (the Senate and the House of Representatives). So when talking about the president and cabinet, it's inaccurate to say things like the Obama government (let me live in the past, please), since the president leads only one branch of the government. Instead, we usually speak of the Obama administration. 

So, this isn't really a difference between AmE and BrE because if Americans talk about British politics, they would need the more parliamentary language, and if Britons talk about American politics, they'll need the more presidential language, for accuracy. But do people always speak accurately about these things?

For government, they mostly do. The images below show the most common words between the and government in the AmE & BrE parts of the Corpus of Global Web-Based English, which was collected in 2012–13, when the UK had a coalition government of the Conservative and Liberal Democrat parties. There, you can see coalition and Labour in the UK data, but only general adjectives and countries in the American. That hasn't changed in more recent data. There's little talk about the Biden government or the Trump government. 

federal, US, Chinese, Israeli, British, American, central, Iranian, national, state, new, Japanese, Syrian, local
Most common words before government in GloWbE AmE subcorpus

UK, British, federal, US, Scottish, coalition, Labour, Chinese, local, current, new, Israeli, Welsh, previous, US
Most common words before government in GloWbE BrE subcorpus

At American sub-national levels, it works the same: American states have 'presidential' systems (just with governors, rather than presidents) and therefore they have administrations led by the governors, and American cities generally have city councils and mayors (details vary from state/city to state/city), and so we can talk of the administration of a mayor or a governor. You can see that in the GloWbE results below, where administration is mostly prefaced by names of presidents, but also, at the bottom Bloomberg, who was mayor of New York City at the time.  

Obama, Bush, current, Clinton, Reagan, previous, new, Nixon, Carter, veterans, US, present, Kennedy Bloomberg
most common words between the and administration in US GloWbE

In the UK, Wales and Scotland have their own parliaments, and so we see them having governments in the chart above. At the county and city level, there are councils, and people often use the word council instead of government at the local level—e.g. the Labour council.   

Directly elected mayors are a 21st-century thing in England, and we don't yet seem to be seeing much use of mayor's name + administration. I tried Johnson administration in GloWbE (since Boris J was London mayor in GloWbE time), but all examples in the UK referred to Lyndon Baines Johnson, the American president—and most of the other the ___ administration examples in UK GloWbE refer to American politics. (I also looked for the Khan administration in a more current corpus, but there one finds it referring to Pakistani politics, not the government of London.) But there is an interesting point at the bottom of this chart:

most common words between the and administration in UK GloWbE

The Labour administration is about 29 times less common than the Labour government, but it's there. A closer look at the data indicates that this use of administration is more common in Scotland—with most, if not all of the Labours from Scotland, and certainly all of the SNPs (Scottish National Party):

the + [UK party name] + administration

But that usage is going up, across the country:

the Labour/Conservative administration in the News on the Web corpus (UK part)

Without any willingness to go through a lot of examples, I can't tell you how many of these administrations refer to the UK government versus devolved country governments or local governments, but I believe there's a mix. There are a very small number of cases of the Sunak administration and the Starmer administration as well. 

Administration is not the first more-American political word I've seen used in a slightly-out-of-sorts way in the UK: gerrymander was my US-to-UK Word of the Year in 2016. But lest you think political words only go in one direction, I'll point you to backbencher, my 2015 UK-to-US Word of the Year. 
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alongside

A few months ago, an American friend of my spouse asked him to ask me: "Why is everyone suddenly saying alongside?"  I hadn't noticed it at that point, but once he'd mentioned it, I felt surrounded by alongside.

As this Google Books ngram shows, the word has taken off in the 21st century:

Separating out the British and American books, we can see that this is a British-led trend.
Alongside climbed in British usage throughout the 20th century. American English suddenly decided to (orig. AmE) play catch-up in the 21st century.

This trend is observable in other corpora too. The News on the Web corpus, for example, shows more than double the rate of alongside in British news sources versus American ones. 

table shows Approx 50 alongside per million words in US corpus,  120 per million word
alongside by country

And within the US News data, the rise of alongside has sped up since 2020. 

alongside on just American news sites

Among(st) the prepositions, alongside is a relative (orig. AmE) newbie. In the OED, where it's marked as "originally nautical," its first citation is from 1704; its definition: "In a position parallel to; side by side with; close to the side of; next to, beside." So the examples are about boats positioned next to other boats or docks, etc. It seems to have gradually moved onto land, especially in the UK, in the 19th century.

So why have Americans suddenly (orig. AmE) taken a shine to alongside? Why is it more attractive than along or beside or next to? Wondering whether there was a trend toward(s) longer, British prepositions, I tried comparing it to amongst. But the more-BrE amongst seems to have peaked in AmE about 12 years ago:

chart shows a decline in rate of use of amongst: from about 16 per million words in 2014 to about 8 per million words in 2026
amongst on American news websites

In 2013, the online magazine Slate published an article by Ben Yagoda about Americans saying amongst instead of among. Perhaps once people were talking about the "British invasion" of amongst, Americans became more self-conscious about it. If Ben published an article about alongside, could that change its fortunes?

Having had alongside pointed out to me, I'm now self-conscious about using it. But this blog gives us a record of me using it:
  • "BrE has kerb for the edging alongside a road" (curb/kerb, May 2020)
  • "British pigs in blankets are small sausages wrapped in bacon (and cooked!). They are delicious. They're traditionally served alongside turkey as part of Christmas dinner."  (pigs in blankets, Feb 2020)
  • "I've seen a lot of "down with grammar!" messages, often alongside 'learning should be fun!'" (grammar is not the enemy, May 2016)

So, what do you think: do I sound Britified when I say such things, or is alongside completely international now?

***

PS: Searching for commentary about alongside, I found some concern about the use of alongside with. Further (orig. BrE) rooting around in the corpora, though, show that alongside with is a tiny proportion of alongside usages (0.7 per million words in AmE, 0.8 per million words in BrE in the NOW corpus).  

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Abbr.

AmE = American English
BrE = British English
OED = Oxford English Dictionary (online)