As the USL Focuses on Growth, the USLPA’s Labor Fight Intensifies
How a Stalled CBA Negotiation Erupted on the USL’s Biggest Stage.
As the United Soccer League steps into an era defined by expansion, the creation of a new Division One, and the long-awaited possibility of promotion and relegation, its relationship with the very players driving that growth has become the league’s most pressing and public tension. What began as a routine negotiation over a new collective bargaining agreement (CBA) has now spilled into stadiums, supporter sections, and—most dramatically—the USL Championship final itself.
What the Current CBA Actually Offers
The USL and the USL Players Association entered the 2024 season still operating under the first-ever collective bargaining agreement in league history, signed in 2021. It was a landmark achievement at the time, setting minimum standards for pay, working conditions, medical protections, and contract structure across a league that had spent much of the previous decade fluctuating between growth and instability.
The agreement standardized the use of one contract template—the Standard Player Agreement—while defining how guaranteed and performance-based contracts function. It created minimum salary floors, protected players from losing pay when required to work outside the February-to-November window, and reaffirmed basic medical safeguards, from club-provided examinations to workers’ compensation coverage. For the first time, when a club folded, players received two months of salary rather than nothing at all. And the CBA established a grievance process, giving players a formal way to challenge violations.
But those protections came with significant limitations. There is no league requirement that clubs provide employer-sponsored health insurance. Minimum salaries, while an improvement, remain below what many players consider livable. And with clubs retaining wide authority over facilities, scheduling, and operating standards, players argue that much of the league still feels semi-professional in practice despite branding itself as fully professional.
Those tensions are what set the stage for a contentious push toward a new agreement.
Negotiations That Never Seem to Move
Formal bargaining for the next CBA began in August 2024. What followed was a grind. By mid-September, the USLPA reported that it had already held 25 bargaining sessions with the league and its clubs—with no meaningful movement on core issues. More sessions have likely been held since, but the union’s tone has remained the same: progress has been limited, and frustration is rising.
The USLPA has been clear about its goals: “the basics every pro deserves.” In their view, that means fair pay that reflects a professional standard, modern working conditions that safeguard players’ health and safety, and employer-provided healthcare not only for players but for their families. These issues feel non-negotiable to the union, especially as the league pushes forward on ambitions that signal a desire to be taken seriously within the global soccer landscape.
The USL, meanwhile, has said nothing publicly. No statements, no updates, no indications of where they stand. That silence has only amplified the USLPA’s message that talks have been “disappointing and frustrating.”
And then, news broke that turned the negotiations from abstract policy into very real consequences for an entire roster of players.
The North Carolina FC Decision and What It Revealed
Earlier this month, North Carolina FC announced that it would voluntarily cease operations as it prepares to pursue entry into the new USL Division One. Under the current CBA, that meant every player’s contract was immediately voided and each received two months’ salary as severance—a protection that did not exist prior to 2021, when players received nothing at all when clubs folded.
But while the league followed the terms of the CBA, the USLPA argues that the current protection is still insufficient. The union is pushing for a far stronger standard: 75% of a player’s total season salary when a club shuts down, a number they believe more accurately reflects the disruption to a player’s livelihood.
To illustrate why the current system falls short, the USLPA has pointed to past examples from other club closures, where players were notified so late in the offseason that there were no remaining roster spots across the league. In one case the union highlighted, a player’s two-month payout could not even cover the costs of living before the next season began, they ultimately accepting a minimum-pay, 25-day contract because it was the only job available.
While this example did not come from the North Carolina FC situation, but they are central to why the USLPA considers the issue urgent. In a league where 12 Championship clubs have folded in the last decade, the union argues that the financial blow of a shutdown cannot be left to chance or timing. They view the NCFC situation as a reminder that the structural problem remains.
Supporters Join the Message
During the 2025 Championship Playoffs, fans across the country began voicing their support for the players. Supporters’ groups in Detroit, Rhode Island, Tulsa, Lexington, and other cities unfurled banners and signs urging the league to meet the players’ demands. The USLPA shared these images widely, framing them as evidence that fans understood the stakes: the players weren’t pushing for luxury—they were pushing for standards that matched the league’s ambition.
And then came the Final. The league’s showcase. The biggest match of the season. A national broadcast on CBS. A moment designed to highlight the best of American lower-division soccer and the league.
Instead, it became the most visible flashpoint of the dispute.
A Silent Protest on the Biggest Stage
When FC Tulsa and the Pittsburgh Riverhounds walked out of the tunnel at ONEOK Field, every player wore the same shirt:
“USL HQ: Pro Rel? Try Pro Standards First.”
It was a deliberate, unified message. If the league wanted to push forward with promotion and relegation—something many players support—it should start by ensuring the working conditions of the professionals tasked with making that system credible.
Fans in the stands echoed the sentiment, raising matching signs. Viewers on CBS saw it. The moment spread across social media within minutes. For the first time, the USLPA’s message reached a national audience in a form that couldn’t be edited, softened, or avoided. It was right there on the field.
On its own, the protest would have been significant. But what happened after the match is what turned it into a defining moment.
A Final Without a Trophy Moment
The Championship Final stretched beyond its scheduled window, finishing 0-0 through 90 minutes and extra time before going to penalties. The broadcast ran over its allotted slot, cutting into college football coverage. Pittsburgh ultimately won its first title in 26 years after FC Tulsa’s Stefan Lukic missed his penalty attempt.
Then came the confusion.
There was no trophy stage. No arch. No confetti. No ceremonial lift.
Everything necessary for the celebration had been delivered to the stadium. Everything was on-site. And just a week earlier, the USL League One Final featured a full trophy presentation for One Knoxville SC.
Initially, speculation centered on the broadcast running long. Maybe the ceremony was cut to avoid delaying CBS’s programming. That explanation circulated widely on social media. It was plausible—at least until the USLPA spoke.
The USLPA Levels a Serious Accusation
On Monday, the union issued a statement alleging that the league canceled the trophy celebration in direct response to the players’ protest shirts. The post contrasted the League One Final’s full celebration with the Championship’s abrupt ending, arguing that the decision was punitive rather than logistical.
“Canceling the moment doesn’t cancel the message,” the post concluded. “It proves it.”
As of this writing, the USL has not addressed the allegation. No independent source has confirmed what actually happened. But the optics are difficult for the league to overcome: a prepared ceremony abandoned entirely, on the night players publicly challenged league leadership, leaves a lingering question that the league’s silence has only deepened.
Why would a league committed to growing its brand allow its top championship moment to conclude without its most basic symbolic ritual? And if the broadcast window truly was the issue, why not stage the lift off-camera, as countless leagues do when time runs out?
Until the USL provides answers, speculation will continue—and so will scrutiny.
The Road Ahead
The USL enters 2026 at a critical crossroads. The current CBA expires at the end of next year, and without a new agreement, players will legally be able to strike—a scenario the league can hardly risk as it prepares to launch USL Division One and move toward promotion and relegation. The league’s ambitions are bigger than ever, but so is the scrutiny surrounding how it treats its players.
Clubs across the country are pouring money into new stadiums, training facilities, and long-term infrastructure. From Sacramento to Louisville to Rhode Island, the investment signals a league striving for permanence and higher stature. But players argue that true professionalism requires updated standards to match that growth—particularly around pay, working conditions, and healthcare.
The confrontation on Championship Final day made one thing clear: the USL cannot advance into its next era while the basic relationship between league and players remains unsettled. To realize its vision for a modern, ambitious soccer pyramid, it will need a modern, ambitious CBA to go with it.