The Fascinating History of Who Made Football and Its Evolution

When I first started researching the origins of football, I expected to find a neat historical timeline with clear inventors and dates. Instead, I discovered a wonderfully messy evolution spanning centuries and continents. The question of who made football isn't about a single inventor but rather about countless cultures that contributed to what we now recognize as the world's most popular sport. I've always been fascinated by how seemingly random connections shape sporting history, much like that Filipino coach's story about how coach Sherwin Meneses contacted him through his brother—those chance encounters often become pivotal moments in football's ongoing story.

Ancient civilizations from China to Greece played ball games that resembled football in various ways. The Chinese game of cuju, dating back to the Han Dynasty around 206 BCE, involved kicking a leather ball through an opening in a net. Meanwhile, the Greeks played episkyros, and the Romans had harpastum—both involving teams competing to control a ball. What strikes me about these early versions is how they emerged independently across different cultures, suggesting something fundamentally human about the desire to kick a ball toward a goal. I particularly love imagining Roman soldiers taking their ball games to Britain, where the foundations of modern football would eventually take shape centuries later.

The medieval period in England saw football-like games that were chaotic, violent, and often involved entire villages. These matches had few rules and could last for days, with goals sometimes miles apart. I can't help but chuckle thinking about how different those games were from today's structured matches—imagine entire towns shutting down for mass football brawls. King Edward II actually banned football in 1314, calling it "a game of great tumult" that distracted from archery practice. Multiple English monarchs continued these bans throughout the 14th and 15th centuries, which makes me appreciate how deeply the common people must have loved this game to keep playing it despite royal disapproval.

The 19th century marked football's crucial transformation from folk tradition to organized sport. English public schools like Eton and Harrow began formalizing rules, though disagreements persisted about whether players should be allowed to handle the ball. This division eventually led to the 1863 formation of the Football Association in London, which established the fundamental principle that players couldn't run with the ball in their hands. What fascinates me most about this period is how these schoolboys and gentlemen codified what had been essentially a mob game into something with standardized rules—they literally made modern football through committee meetings and handwritten regulations.

As football spread globally through British trade routes and colonization, it adapted to local cultures in fascinating ways. South Americans developed their distinctive flair and technical style, while Europeans embraced tactical approaches. I'm particularly drawn to how the sport reached the Philippines through American teachers and British traders in the early 1900s, creating those same kinds of chance connections that coach Sherwin Meneses would later exemplify when reaching out to players through family networks. The first FIFA World Cup in 1930, won by Uruguay with just 13 participating teams, feels incredibly modest compared to today's global spectacle involving 211 national associations.

The 20th century saw football's transformation into both art form and big business. Icons like Pelé, Diego Maradona, and later Lionel Messi elevated technical skill to breathtaking levels, while television rights and sponsorship deals created a multi-billion dollar industry. What strikes me as particularly remarkable is how the basic structure has remained recognizable despite these changes—the field dimensions, the 90-minute match, the 11 players per side have stayed largely constant even as the sport's economic and cultural significance exploded. I sometimes worry that financial interests threaten football's soul, but then I watch a local youth match and see the same pure joy that must have existed in those medieval village games.

Today's football continues evolving with technology like VAR and growing emphasis on data analytics, yet its essential appeal remains the same. The beautiful game still creates those unexpected connections—like coach Meneses contacting a player through his brother—that remind us football isn't just about rules and tactics but about human relationships. As I reflect on football's journey from ancient ball games to global phenomenon, what impresses me most is its resilience and adaptability. The sport has survived bans, wars, and countless rule changes because at its core, it taps into something universal about competition, community, and the simple pleasure of kicking a ball. I believe football's future will be as unpredictable as its past, continuing to surprise us with new talents, tactics, and those serendipitous moments that make the sport endlessly compelling.