They are terrific players. Nearly unbeatable. They kick the ball just like the best. They are trained and fed for maximum results. They play in the most up-to-date uniforms, with the referee clad in trademark black and the field immaculately green. And they are Americans. The only thing unusual about them is that they are barely 7 years old.

We parents, who are watching this soccer game on a Saturday morning, know that our children play for fun. However, what few realize is that, before our very eyes, America is preparing its future World Cup Soccer champions.

This is no exaggeration. I have traveled throughout Latin America and parts of Europe, and what I have seen tells me that nothing compares to the U.S. sports system when it comes to creating winners.

Let me explain. American children from age 4 can join soccer leagues and play in tournaments, usually linked to their schools, in which they begin to compete and learn the secrets of the game.

Seeing these little tykes play, dressed up in team uniforms, numbers on their backs, knee socks, shin pads, and soccer shoes identical to those of the pros (although in much smaller sizes) is really amusing: Everything looks big on them.

However, there's a difference between this group of youngsters and those that I've seen in other parts of the world. For starters, here the teams are made up of boys and girls without any distinction. So, it's no wonder that a U.S. Women's Soccer team has already won a FIFA Women's World Cup.

Meantime, before today's match, these kids had a good and nutritious breakfast and had trained for two or three days during the prior week. They also have an extraordinary support system for success. Generally both parents are involved in some way with the team. Some are coaches, some provide beverages and others simply show up religiously each week to cheer them on.

In spite of Olympic advice from parents and teachers that the important thing is not winning but competing, these children have their own mantra. "Winning is all that matters," I have overheard them saying, when they think no one's listening. And their long faces when they lose are clear signs that, for better or worse, they have already assimilated the American ideal of being "winners" and not "losers."

During the last three years, going to the games has been my Saturday ritual. And to be honest, nothing makes me swell with pride as when I see my son score a goal. However, setting aside personal satisfaction, I have to admit that these football leagues (in the hundreds across the United States) will some day form an invincible team. It's only a matter of time.

FIFA's most recent pre-World-Cup-06 rankings put the U.S. national team in fourth place. The days when playing against the American team meant its humiliation and defeat are long gone. At the time, soccer was the only sport in which the United States routinely suffered defeat at the hands of Mexico, Argentina or Peru. Not anymore.

I confess. I plan to spend the next month following all 64 games of World Cup 06 Germany without the slightest pang of conscience. Either in Germany or in front of a TV set, I'll be watching these games with my son. Each of us, however, will be looking for different things.

He will spend much of his time identifying his favorite players _ Beckham, Ronaldo, Ronaldinho, Zidane, Raul ... _ and attempting to imitate the magical moves of their feet. For me, it will be a mental escape in which, for four weeks, I can (almost) forget the rest of the world. (I say "almost" because the Mexican presidential election will intervene on July 2.)

My son was born during World Cup 98 France _ it was a wonderful Sunday when three games in a row were played. He came into this world, I remember, halfway through the Word Cup to the sound of "Goal!" Now, in a few days, he will celebrate his eighth birthday hearing many cries of "goooooooal!"

When I see him and his schoolmates running behind a football, I can't help picturing them playing in a World Cup. That, perhaps, is the classic Dad's wish: having our children do what we ourselves weren't able to do.

However, it's fine with me if that doesn't happen.

But for now, I am seeing the U.S. champions of the future and it seems nothing can stop them. You see, I am certain the United States will win the World Cup one of these days.

(This column is dedicated to Nicolas for his birthday.)