CARSON, Calif. -- Galaxy legend Landon Donovan returned to Dignity Health Sports Park on Saturday night, but the conversation around him wasn’t about the past.
The club honored Donovan with a bobblehead as part of “Landon Donovan Celebration” night, tied to the release of his memoir, Landon. It was a night built on nostalgia — championships, goals, and moments that defined an era for the LA Galaxy. But upstairs in the press box before kickoff against Minnesota United FC, Donovan focused on something else entirely.
He talked about the future of soccer in the United States. And he didn’t hold back.
The book, he explained, was simply an extension of something he had already been doing for years — being open about his life beyond the field. “I’ve been pretty honest about a lot of things, including a lot of struggles,” Donovan said. Writing it gave people a more accessible way to engage with those experiences, and the response has been overwhelming.
What stood out to him wasn’t praise, but connection. Donovan said readers have gravitated toward parts of the story that have nothing to do with soccer, often sharing their own experiences in return. “Everybody who reads it, some piece of it is relatable,” he said. “It’s a nice way to connect with people.”
That idea — connection over performance — carries into how he now views the sport itself, especially at its foundation.
Donovan said his current passion is “fixing youth soccer,” a phrase he repeated more than once. In his mind, the issues at the grassroots level are directly tied to the ceiling of the sport nationally. “That will actually fix soccer in this country,” he said.
His critique was direct. Too direct, maybe, for a setting meant to celebrate him.
“We need to give sports back to the children,” Donovan said. “It’s been stolen. The parents have taken away. The coaches have. The clubs are a disaster, and the kids are the ones suffering.”
For Donovan, this isn’t a distant issue. It’s something he sees firsthand through his own children, and something he hears about constantly. He said the response from parents and players after speaking publicly about it has been overwhelming, filled with similar frustrations and stories.
At the center of those frustrations is how early the game becomes structured — and how quickly creativity is replaced with instruction.
“I watch my kids practice, and they’re working on things that pros work on, and they’re eight years old,” Donovan said. Instead of learning basic skills and enjoying the game, young players are being pushed into systems and tactics they aren’t ready for. “They need to be learning how to trap the ball properly,” he added, “not how to tactically conquer a game.”
The result, he believes, is a generation of players who struggle to think for themselves on the field. Coaches direct every movement from the sideline, and over time, that dependence sticks.
“They’re told at six years old, you listen to the sideline,” Donovan said. “Now players grow up and they can’t make decisions on their own. They’re just used to being joystick.”
It’s a sharp contrast to the path Donovan took. He pointed to his own development — and that of Clint Dempsey — as evidence that less structure can sometimes lead to better outcomes. Neither player grew up in highly organized systems, yet both became two of the most accomplished players in U.S. history.
“We didn’t have structured, organized soccer until I was 15,” Donovan said. “Something went awry somewhere.”
For him, the solution isn’t complicated, even if implementing it might be. The focus should shift back to the experience of the child, not the ambitions of adults. Development, he argued, naturally follows enjoyment.
“The irony is that one leads to the other,” he said.
That philosophy shapes how Donovan now evaluates the U.S. Men’s National Team as well. Having played in three World Cups, he understands how unpredictable the tournament can be, and how easily narratives can shift based on moments outside a team’s control.
“What I’ve learned in World Cups is I focus less on the outcome and more on the performance,” he said.
He referenced the 2002 tournament — widely considered the program’s best showing — as an example. The U.S. reached the quarterfinals, but Donovan pointed out how close they were to an early exit, needing help from another result just to advance.
Because of that, he’s hesitant to define success strictly by results. A deep run would be meaningful, he said, but so would moments that resonate and performances that show growth.
Still, when asked the bigger question — whether the U.S. can win a World Cup in his lifetime — Donovan’s answer came back to the same place it had all along.
“Not if we don’t fix youth soccer,” he said. “But yes, because we are going to fix it.”
There’s a clear link between that belief and the purpose of his book. The memoir isn’t built around goals or trophies, but around reflection — understanding where things went wrong, where growth happened, and how perspective changes over time.
Donovan said the most surprising part of the process wasn’t what he learned about himself, but what he learned from others. Through interviews conducted by co-writer Ryan Berman, he was able to see how people in his life remembered key moments and how they viewed him in those same situations.
“You don’t often know how people feel about you,” he said. “That part of it was really surprising.”
It’s a perspective that seems to guide how he now looks at the game. Instead of focusing solely on outcomes, Donovan is asking deeper questions about the experience — how players develop, how environments shape them, and whether the system in place is actually working.
On a night meant to celebrate his legacy with the Galaxy, Donovan made it clear he’s more concerned with what comes next.
Not the goals he scored, but the players who will follow.