Soccer reached Armstrong through a television screen in the suburbs.

His household relocated from southeast Washington DC during his early years and eventually established itself in a mostly white area of Maryland, where he connected with the son of a soccer coach. One day, the coach summoned Armstrong to watch the screen.

The coach highlighted a Brazilian athlete wearing a New York Cosmos shirt.

"That was Pele," Armstrong recalls.

"His motion echoed many basketball point guards, except he performed it using a ball near his feet.

"He stood among the limited black athletes on the squad, forging an immediate link."

While Pele promoted a sport he mastered barefoot on Brazilian streets, much of the American youth version relied on advantage.

Unlike the emerging academies across Europe and South America, where teams such as Ajax and Barcelona invested in emerging prospects, growth in the US has depended on a pay-to-play approach.

Households face substantial expenses or must pursue sponsorships for their children to progress, resulting in a framework that rarely supported those from lower-income homes.

"It runs counter to the essence of this sport," notes Frank Dell'Apa, who has served 40 years as the Boston Globe football columnist and covered the game since the original North American Soccer League era.

"This remains the most basic game with simplest entry. Everyone plays it globally without funds, balls or footwear. Yet here the situation operated in reverse."

Armstrong recognizes how readily his path might have shifted.

"Without my family moving to the suburbs, I would not be involved in soccer at all," he states.

Financial status represented just one obstacle.

The NASL collapse in 1985 while Armstrong played college soccer restricted professional routes for him and fellow athletes before their careers launched.

"That hit me hard personally," Armstrong explains.

He joined the Major Indoor Soccer League for professional play, where strong showings led to a US men's national team debut in 1987 and a place at the 1988 Seoul Olympics.

"I recall standing on the pitch, listening to the anthem and realizing this was my intended spot," he says.

That year Fifa chose the USA to stage the 1994 World Cup, marking the first time the event occurred outside Europe or Latin America.

They faced intense global attention.

"The US held no standing in world soccer," Dell'Apa observes.

"I recall Des competing often on artificial surfaces. Conditions proved tough for those players. They battled for roster spots, proper fields and venues."

Absent a top outdoor professional league, the player group blended college, semi-pro and indoor talents such as Armstrong.

The federation addressed this by placing a core group under full-time contracts, effectively making the national team the nation's professional base. This unusual method resembled Eastern Bloc tactics.

They named German-Hungarian coach Bob Gansler. Armstrong joined young players assigned the daunting goal of reaching the 1990 World Cup in Italy.

On Sunday 19 November 1989 the familiar staccato theme from ESPN's SportsCenter airs on US screens.

"We have football updates, known here as soccer while the rest of the world calls it football," anchor Bob Ley announces brightly.

The USA achieved a surprise victory against Trinidad and Tobago in Port of Spain to secure the final Italia '90 berth. The hosts had been so confident of advancing via a draw that officials had already proclaimed the next day a national holiday.

"This marked the most significant soccer match for the US in two generations," Ley states, needing to convey the result's scale to viewers.

Armstrong, sidelined by an ankle issue, rushed onto the field at the final whistle.

"Everyone went wild," he remembers.

"We arrived without any pro league at home. Incredible. Yet most Americans showed no interest."

Frank Dell'Apa attended the Stadio Comunale in Florence as the US fell 5-1 to Czechoslovakia in their opening group match.

"It served as a true awakening for the US," he says. "They needed to grasp their tactical identity and limits."

That understanding faced scrutiny in the following match versus the hosts before 73,000 spectators in Rome.

The Italy squad embodied Serie A's power, including Franco Baresi, Paolo Maldini and Roberto Donadoni. The Azzurri even rested Juventus' record signing Roberto Baggio.

The Stadio Olimpico anticipated a rout.

Armstrong's task: mark Gianluca Vialli.

"Vialli was the star," he says. "I planned to shadow him closely.

"I glance across and meet his eyes. In my head I declare you will not touch the ball."

A single goal arrived in the 11th minute from Italy midfielder Giuseppe Giannini, yet the expected thrashing never materialized. Both Vialli and Salvatore Schillaci, whom Armstrong covered in the second half, failed to score.

"A disappointing Italian showing that will spark anger in their media tomorrow," noted the BBC commentary at the end.

It also commended the "resilient" US effort, "as many expected them to arrive in Rome as easy targets yet they departed with a creditable result."

Although exiting after a 2-1 loss to Austria in their last group game, the US had established groundwork for American soccer's future.

For Armstrong, recognition arrived as a defender.

The next year he trained two weeks with Luton Town. The First Division side considered signing him when his agent called about a Brazil opportunity.

"Yes, I want beach time. I am in England amid grey skies where players sip tea at half-time. Which club?"

"Santos."

"Book the flight."

Armstrong became the first American to sign professionally in Brazil, spending one season at Pele's former club.

He describes media swarming him upon landing.

Though unaware then, his interpreter was Edinho, the club's goalkeeper and Pele's son.

When asked how he would communicate without Portuguese, Armstrong answered: "I suppose I will smile a lot."

He did not know the interview aired nationwide, so upon entering the Santos locker room every teammate greeted him with broad smiles.

Armstrong laughs at the recollection.

"It ranked as the peak of my career since I had watched Pele, the master of his craft. Simply an amazing experience."

After a season in a semi-pro US league, Armstrong retired in 1996 at age 31 to begin coaching.

Near Nashville's country music district, Armstrong fills his pickup with soccer balls and heads to the diverse Antioch area.

At each stop he receives warm embraces. At the Kurdish cafe conversations turn to Galatasaray and Amedspor. At the station Egyptian and Iraqi staff discuss Mo Salah. Soccer unites everyone here.

Via his community club he has spent 14 years delivering soccer to the city's immigrant residents, transporting kids to matches, finding fields and often covering kit and fees personally.

"Several gifted youngsters live here," he notes.

Now partnered with Armada FC as director of coaching, Armstrong gains dedicated facilities and improved access.

Following increased ICE activity in Nashville amid federal immigration enforcement, Armstrong reports Hispanic families avoid leaving Antioch, so some children miss games.

"They prefer not to risk stops while driving," he says. "They choose familiar zones where they feel less likely to face issues."

At Armstrong's youth program this has strengthened parent bonds, with group chats arranging rides for affected families.

"If travel feels unsafe we stay local," says Maria, watching her brother compete.

She joins a large Hispanic turnout, with cheers of "vamos, vamos!" ringing out.

"Various cultures unite us through this."

For teens Abdi and Kylan, both discovered by Armstrong and crediting him for their involvement, his trailblazing role becomes clear only via photos.

"1990. Amazing," says Abdi, viewing images of his coach in USA colors. Kylan chuckles at the old style: "Look at the tucked shirt. And no moustache now."

Current US players recognize Armstrong well, and one shares similar facial hair.

"Nice moustache there," Armstrong says during a video chat.

From 4,000 miles away Chris Richards appears on screen, replying with a laugh: "Bringing back that classic look!"

At 26 the Alabama-born Crystal Palace defender plays a vital role in the 2026 World Cup squad, the most varied men's national team group to date.

"For those resembling us progress took time, and you helped lead the way," Richards tells him.

The centre-back works to expand US youth access, "so a player like me never needs to relocate for opportunity."

While funded MLS academies have aided him and teammates such as Weston McKennie and Tyler Adams, Richards understands the route to pro level remains challenging outside MLS areas.

"Playing costs remain high at home," Richards tells Armstrong. "Many kids quit because expenses prove too much.

"Without your input, your boldness and resolve I would not stand here, so I offer you full credit.

"Your era received little notice, yet I want you to know it is appreciated, since we value our past and it began with you."