by sportswriter He Leijing

BEIJING, July 14 (Xinhua) -- For many Chinese football fans, this summer has been a season of double delight: cheering for their favorite stars battling under the World Cup lights, then walking into local stadiums to roar for their hometown teams in grassroots leagues.

China was once again absent from the FIFA World Cup stage, but that has done little to lessen the country's love for football.

On Chinese social media platforms, World Cup discussions have remained at fever pitch, with every goal, every controversy and every moment of brilliance from the sport's biggest names generating waves of attention.

Yet the most vivid expression of that passion is happening closer to home.

Across China, a wave of amateur city leagues has swept through communities, offering fans their own version of a "grassroots World Cup." These tournaments are far more than casual kickabouts. They have given people from all walks of life the chance to chase their football dreams, while turning many first-time spectators into devoted supporters.

More importantly, these local competitions are weaving football into the fabric of communities, local culture, consumption and urban development.

Take Jiangsu's Su Super League, which kicked off its new season in April. The league introduced its official match ball, the Trionda, even before this summer's World Cup began, and has adopted VAR technology to raise professional standards.

Last year, the grassroots league's 85 matches attracted 2.43 million spectators in stadiums and generated more than 2.2 billion online views. This year, the crowds have continued to grow.

The rise of grassroots football thousands of miles away from the global spectacle of the World Cup has created a fascinating contrast between absence and presence. China may be absent from the grandest stage, but football itself is very much present in the lives of its ordinary people.

Chinese fans do care about results, rankings and national team performances. Many were left heartbroken when qualification dreams slipped away. But beneath the frustration lies a stronger sense of hope.

When China's U-23 national team achieved its best-ever finish by reaching the final of the AFC U23 Asian Cup in January, the performance earned widespread encouragement from supporters. For many, the message was simple: "Maybe this is the beginning."

The rise of city leagues, coupled with greater opportunities for young players to compete and develop, has offered a more realistic path forward. Instead of being consumed by the anxiety of failing to qualify, more fans are embracing the longer journey of building a healthier football ecosystem from the ground up.

Across China, cities are tailoring youth development programs to local conditions, expanding multi-level training centers, increasing the number of football pitches, and sending more teenage players overseas for training and international exchanges.

Football's cultural reach is also expanding. Recently, audiences on the Chinese mainland embraced the new comedy movie "Kungfu Soccer," directed by Stephen Chow, with its box-office breaking summer season records shortly after release. Centered around football, the movie has brought laughter to families while planting the seeds of interest in the sport among a new generation.

The revival of Chinese football will not happen overnight. The road ahead will be long, challenging and with setbacks. But many fans have drawn inspiration from the remarkable World Cup journey of Cabo Verde, a reminder that determination and courage can rewrite expectations.

Football has always rewarded patience. With sustained effort from players, communities and institutions alike, China's hopes on the pitch will find their moment under the brightest lights. ■