THE SOCCER LADDER LIBRARY
Long before MLS NEXT, academy systems and today’s youth-development debates, Manfred “Manny” Schellscheidt was helping build the foundation of American soccer — one player, one coach and one idea at a time.
Today, youth soccer development can feel incredibly complicated.
MLS academies. MLS NEXT. Identification camps. Private training. Sports performance. Data. Video analysis. Recruiting. Rankings. Results.
But spend time around one of the most influential coaches in American soccer history and the conversation has a way of becoming much simpler.
Can the player see the game? Can he solve the problem? Does he understand why he’s doing what he’s doing? And, maybe most importantly, does he love to play?
Those ideas have been at the center of Manny Schellscheidt’s approach to soccer for decades. And while his name may not be immediately familiar to every parent standing on the sideline of a youth soccer game today, his influence can be found throughout American soccer.
Schellscheidt came to the United States from Germany in the 1960s, long before Major League Soccer existed and long before American youth soccer had anything resembling today’s academy structure.
He worked as a toolmaker while playing and coaching soccer, eventually building a career that touched virtually every level of the American game.
As a player, he helped Elizabeth SC win the U.S. Open Cup in 1970 and 1972. He was also part of the Philadelphia Atoms organization that won the 1973 North American Soccer League championship. He later coached professionally, led the U.S. Men’s National Team for three games in 1975, and worked with U.S. Olympic, Pan American and youth national teams.
Schellscheidt was also the first coach in the United States to earn U.S. Soccer’s top “A” coaching license. In 1990, he was inducted into the National Soccer Hall of Fame.
And yet the championships and honors tell only part of the story. Manny became a teacher of the game.
One of the most remarkable parts of Schellscheidt’s story isn’t simply who he coached. It’s how far his influence traveled.
Across decades in American soccer, Manny worked with and influenced players and coaches who would go on to shape the college game, Major League Soccer and the U.S. National Team program. Bruce Arena and Bob Bradley are among the prominent American coaches connected to his long career.
Before American soccer had the infrastructure it has today, coaches needed teachers, too. Manny was one of them.
The story of Sacha Kljestan may explain Manny’s approach better than almost anything else.
As a young player in California, Kljestan was not necessarily the prospect every evaluator was chasing. Manny saw something others didn’t.
When Schellscheidt later recalled first seeing Kljestan, he focused on the qualities that mattered to him: the ball did not slow Sacha down, he understood how to find the game, and the players around him became better when he was on the field.
Manny brought him to Seton Hall. Kljestan became a two-time All-American there, was selected fifth overall in the 2006 MLS SuperDraft, played in MLS and Europe, and represented the United States internationally.
When I reached out to Sacha while writing this article, I asked what Manny meant to him. His response captured exactly why Manny’s influence has lasted.
“I owe a lot to Manny because he believed in me and gave me an opportunity. When a lot of people doubted me or told me no, Manny saw something in me and let me express myself on the pitch. He has a great way of letting the game be the teacher. I know he has made an impact on thousands of young players in this country and he came into my life at a time where I really needed somebody to believe in me. More than 20 years later we still have great conversations about the game!”
— Sacha Kljestan, shared directly with MeganLinke.com
That is player development in a sentence: seeing beyond what a player appears to be in one moment and recognizing what might be there long-term.
And it is striking that more than 20 years later, the relationship is still rooted in conversations about the game.
The U-14 Years — and Why Manny’s Philosophy Still MattersSchellscheidt spent years working at one of the most important stages of American player development. Beginning in 1998, he served as technical director of U.S. Soccer’s U-14 boys National Identification Program.
Think about that age for a moment: 13 and 14. It is a period when young players can be changing dramatically — physically, technically and emotionally. Some mature early. Others develop later. Growth spurts can temporarily change coordination, balance and confidence.
Manny understood the danger of confusing physical development with soccer potential. He spoke about patience with players going through puberty and consistently made room in his thinking for smaller players and late bloomers.
His focus was not simply on who was physically ahead. He wanted players who understood the game — players with something happening “upstairs.”
That philosophy feels remarkably current considering how often youth soccer families still debate size, speed, early maturation and player identification.
Perhaps the most enduring part of Schellscheidt’s philosophy is also one of the simplest: the game is the teacher.
Seton Hall described his coaching philosophy as having players learn by playing. In U.S. Soccer’s development work, Manny emphasized creating an environment where young players could enjoy the game, become more comfortable with the ball and learn through play rather than being suffocated by systems and constant instruction.
Give players problems. Let them find solutions. Ask questions. Allow them to make decisions. Allow them to make mistakes. Allow them to play.
That philosophy is worth thinking about in today’s development environment. Young players have access to more coaching, technology, video and information than perhaps any generation before them. Those resources can be valuable.
But soccer is still a game of decisions. A player has fractions of seconds to recognize space, pressure, teammates, opponents and possibilities. No coach can make those decisions for them once the whistle blows.
Eventually, the player has to see it.
A player can learn how to strike a beautiful pass. But why that pass? Why at that moment? Why to that teammate? What happens next?
For Manny, development has always gone deeper than executing a drill correctly. The player has to understand the game.
That distinction matters for parents, too. We may watch whether a pass connected. A great coach may be watching whether the player understood why the pass was there in the first place.
There is another Manny philosophy that feels particularly relevant to today’s youth soccer landscape.
At the U-14 level, he argued that development should not be driven primarily by results. His emphasis was on performance, love of the game, comfort with the ball and improvement. If players learned how to play well, he believed the results would eventually follow.
That does not mean winning does not matter. Competitive players want to win. Competitive coaches want to win.
But there is an important difference between using competition to develop players and allowing winning youth games to become the definition of development. Those are not always the same thing.
From the U.S. National Team to Seton HallManny’s career touched nearly every layer of American soccer.
He coached the U.S. Men’s National Team in 1975 and worked with Olympic, Pan American and youth national teams. In 1988, he took over the men’s program at Seton Hall University in New Jersey.
Over nearly a quarter century at Seton Hall, Schellscheidt won more than 230 matches, led the Pirates to two BIG EAST championships and nine NCAA Tournament appearances, and coached multiple All-Americans, including Kljestan.
But once again, the numbers only tell part of the story. Former players continued seeking him out. Coaches continued talking soccer with him. His influence kept spreading.
This is the part of Manny’s story that makes it especially personal for me.
Decades after coaching national teams, professional players and college All-Americans, Manny continued showing up where development begins: with kids.
The New York Red Bulls have included Schellscheidt on their Academy coaching staff, including with younger developmental age groups. I’ve had the privilege of seeing his influence firsthand through my son, Liam, who plays in the New York Red Bulls Academy.
And what strikes me isn’t that Manny arrives with some complicated formula. It’s what he notices.
A movement. A decision. A space that opened. Something a player saw. Something he didn’t. Something he might recognize earlier next time.
When someone has spent that many decades watching soccer, there is a different weight to those observations.
For our family, Manny has also been someone who has seen qualities in Liam, encouraged him and advocated for him during an important stage of his development. As a parent, you don’t forget the people who truly see your child.
But as I’ve learned more about Manny’s history, I’ve realized something bigger: our experience isn’t unique.
Sacha’s words say it beautifully. For generations, players have stories about Manny believing in them, giving them an opportunity and seeing something in them — sometimes before everyone else did.
Youth soccer parents spend enormous amounts of time trying to determine whether our children are on the “right” path.
The right club. The right team. The right coach. The right training. The right league. The right opportunity.
Those things matter. But Manny’s career is a reminder that development isn’t always linear — and it isn’t always obvious.
The biggest player at 13 isn’t automatically the best prospect at 18. The player struggling through a growth spurt hasn’t suddenly forgotten how to play. The player who isn’t the fastest may be learning to solve problems another way. And the player who makes mistakes while trying to understand the game may be developing something more important than a perfect youth-soccer result.
Sometimes development requires patience. Sometimes it requires struggle.
And sometimes the most important thing a coach can do is see beyond what a player is today and imagine what he or she might become.
American soccer looks almost nothing like it did when Manny Schellscheidt arrived here more than six decades ago.
There is now Major League Soccer. MLS NEXT. Professional academies. Sophisticated scouting networks. Performance departments. Video. Analytics. International pathways. And an American player-development system that continues to evolve.
But underneath all of it is the same game.
A ball. Space. Teammates. Opponents. Problems to solve. Decisions to make. And players learning to see things a little sooner than they did yesterday.
Maybe that’s why Manny Schellscheidt’s ideas still feel so relevant.
American soccer has changed dramatically. Some of its most important lessons haven’t.
Megan Linke is a soccer media personality and the host and founder of The Soccer Ladder, where she shares conversations and perspectives on youth soccer development, the pathway through the game and the people shaping soccer in the United States.
Long before MLS NEXT, academy systems and today’s youth-development debates, Manfred “Manny” Schellscheidt was helping build the foundation of American soccer — one player, one coach and one idea at a time.
Today, youth soccer development can feel incredibly complicated.
MLS academies. MLS NEXT. Identification camps. Private training. Sports performance. Data. Video analysis. Recruiting. Rankings. Results.
But spend time around one of the most influential coaches in American soccer history and the conversation has a way of becoming much simpler.
Can the player see the game? Can he solve the problem? Does he understand why he’s doing what he’s doing? And, maybe most importantly, does he love to play?
Those ideas have been at the center of Manny Schellscheidt’s approach to soccer for decades. And while his name may not be immediately familiar to every parent standing on the sideline of a youth soccer game today, his influence can be found throughout American soccer.
Schellscheidt came to the United States from Germany in the 1960s, long before Major League Soccer existed and long before American youth soccer had anything resembling today’s academy structure.
He worked as a toolmaker while playing and coaching soccer, eventually building a career that touched virtually every level of the American game.
As a player, he helped Elizabeth SC win the U.S. Open Cup in 1970 and 1972. He was also part of the Philadelphia Atoms organization that won the 1973 North American Soccer League championship. He later coached professionally, led the U.S. Men’s National Team for three games in 1975, and worked with U.S. Olympic, Pan American and youth national teams.
Schellscheidt was also the first coach in the United States to earn U.S. Soccer’s top “A” coaching license. In 1990, he was inducted into the National Soccer Hall of Fame.
And yet the championships and honors tell only part of the story. Manny became a teacher of the game.
One of the most remarkable parts of Schellscheidt’s story isn’t simply who he coached. It’s how far his influence traveled.
Across decades in American soccer, Manny worked with and influenced players and coaches who would go on to shape the college game, Major League Soccer and the U.S. National Team program. Bruce Arena and Bob Bradley are among the prominent American coaches connected to his long career.
Before American soccer had the infrastructure it has today, coaches needed teachers, too. Manny was one of them.
The story of Sacha Kljestan may explain Manny’s approach better than almost anything else.
As a young player in California, Kljestan was not necessarily the prospect every evaluator was chasing. Manny saw something others didn’t.
When Schellscheidt later recalled first seeing Kljestan, he focused on the qualities that mattered to him: the ball did not slow Sacha down, he understood how to find the game, and the players around him became better when he was on the field.
Manny brought him to Seton Hall. Kljestan became a two-time All-American there, was selected fifth overall in the 2006 MLS SuperDraft, played in MLS and Europe, and represented the United States internationally.
When I reached out to Sacha while writing this article, I asked what Manny meant to him. His response captured exactly why Manny’s influence has lasted.
“I owe a lot to Manny because he believed in me and gave me an opportunity. When a lot of people doubted me or told me no, Manny saw something in me and let me express myself on the pitch. He has a great way of letting the game be the teacher. I know he has made an impact on thousands of young players in this country and he came into my life at a time where I really needed somebody to believe in me. More than 20 years later we still have great conversations about the game!”
— Sacha Kljestan, shared directly with MeganLinke.com
That is player development in a sentence: seeing beyond what a player appears to be in one moment and recognizing what might be there long-term.
And it is striking that more than 20 years later, the relationship is still rooted in conversations about the game.

Schellscheidt spent years working at one of the most important stages of American player development. Beginning in 1998, he served as technical director of U.S. Soccer’s U-14 boys National Identification Program.
Think about that age for a moment: 13 and 14. It is a period when young players can be changing dramatically — physically, technically and emotionally. Some mature early. Others develop later. Growth spurts can temporarily change coordination, balance and confidence.
Manny understood the danger of confusing physical development with soccer potential. He spoke about patience with players going through puberty and consistently made room in his thinking for smaller players and late bloomers.
His focus was not simply on who was physically ahead. He wanted players who understood the game — players with something happening “upstairs.”
That philosophy feels remarkably current considering how often youth soccer families still debate size, speed, early maturation and player identification.
Perhaps the most enduring part of Schellscheidt’s philosophy is also one of the simplest: the game is the teacher.
Seton Hall described his coaching philosophy as having players learn by playing. In U.S. Soccer’s development work, Manny emphasized creating an environment where young players could enjoy the game, become more comfortable with the ball and learn through play rather than being suffocated by systems and constant instruction.
Give players problems. Let them find solutions. Ask questions. Allow them to make decisions. Allow them to make mistakes. Allow them to play.
That philosophy is worth thinking about in today’s development environment. Young players have access to more coaching, technology, video and information than perhaps any generation before them. Those resources can be valuable.
But soccer is still a game of decisions. A player has fractions of seconds to recognize space, pressure, teammates, opponents and possibilities. No coach can make those decisions for them once the whistle blows.
Eventually, the player has to see it.
A player can learn how to strike a beautiful pass. But why that pass? Why at that moment? Why to that teammate? What happens next?
For Manny, development has always gone deeper than executing a drill correctly. The player has to understand the game.
That distinction matters for parents, too. We may watch whether a pass connected. A great coach may be watching whether the player understood why the pass was there in the first place.
There is another Manny philosophy that feels particularly relevant to today’s youth soccer landscape.
At the U-14 level, he argued that development should not be driven primarily by results. His emphasis was on performance, love of the game, comfort with the ball and improvement. If players learned how to play well, he believed the results would eventually follow.
That does not mean winning does not matter. Competitive players want to win. Competitive coaches want to win.
But there is an important difference between using competition to develop players and allowing winning youth games to become the definition of development. Those are not always the same thing.

Manny’s career touched nearly every layer of American soccer.
He coached the U.S. Men’s National Team in 1975 and worked with Olympic, Pan American and youth national teams. In 1988, he took over the men’s program at Seton Hall University in New Jersey.
Over nearly a quarter century at Seton Hall, Schellscheidt won more than 230 matches, led the Pirates to two BIG EAST championships and nine NCAA Tournament appearances, and coached multiple All-Americans, including Kljestan.
But once again, the numbers only tell part of the story. Former players continued seeking him out. Coaches continued talking soccer with him. His influence kept spreading.
This is the part of Manny’s story that makes it especially personal for me.
Decades after coaching national teams, professional players and college All-Americans, Manny continued showing up where development begins: with kids.
The New York Red Bulls have included Schellscheidt on their Academy coaching staff, including with younger developmental age groups. I’ve had the privilege of seeing his influence firsthand through my son, Liam, who plays in the New York Red Bulls Academy.
And what strikes me isn’t that Manny arrives with some complicated formula. It’s what he notices.
A movement. A decision. A space that opened. Something a player saw. Something he didn’t. Something he might recognize earlier next time.
When someone has spent that many decades watching soccer, there is a different weight to those observations.
For our family, Manny has also been someone who has seen qualities in Liam, encouraged him and advocated for him during an important stage of his development. As a parent, you don’t forget the people who truly see your child.
But as I’ve learned more about Manny’s history, I’ve realized something bigger: our experience isn’t unique.
Sacha’s words say it beautifully. For generations, players have stories about Manny believing in them, giving them an opportunity and seeing something in them — sometimes before everyone else did.
Youth soccer parents spend enormous amounts of time trying to determine whether our children are on the “right” path.
The right club. The right team. The right coach. The right training. The right league. The right opportunity.
Those things matter. But Manny’s career is a reminder that development isn’t always linear — and it isn’t always obvious.
The biggest player at 13 isn’t automatically the best prospect at 18. The player struggling through a growth spurt hasn’t suddenly forgotten how to play. The player who isn’t the fastest may be learning to solve problems another way. And the player who makes mistakes while trying to understand the game may be developing something more important than a perfect youth-soccer result.
Sometimes development requires patience. Sometimes it requires struggle.
And sometimes the most important thing a coach can do is see beyond what a player is today and imagine what he or she might become.
American soccer looks almost nothing like it did when Manny Schellscheidt arrived here more than six decades ago.
There is now Major League Soccer. MLS NEXT. Professional academies. Sophisticated scouting networks. Performance departments. Video. Analytics. International pathways. And an American player-development system that continues to evolve.
But underneath all of it is the same game.
A ball. Space. Teammates. Opponents. Problems to solve. Decisions to make. And players learning to see things a little sooner than they did yesterday.
Maybe that’s why Manny Schellscheidt’s ideas still feel so relevant.
American soccer has changed dramatically. Some of its most important lessons haven’t.
Megan Linke is a soccer media personality and the host and founder of The Soccer Ladder, where she shares conversations and perspectives on youth soccer development, the pathway through the game and the people shaping soccer in the United States.