TURIN, Italy — One recent afternoon, Weston McKennie walked into a pizza parlor.
In this part of the world, where he has emerged as one of the top midfielders in Serie A and perhaps Juventus‘ most consistent player, McKennie can rarely go out in public.
La Lampara, a restaurant run by the cousin of his personal chef, is a safe haven. He even stores a bottle of Hidden Valley ranch dressing, his favorite condiment, in the refrigerator to swirl on his pizza.
But in Leeds, where McKennie was chastised by fans for looking overweight, it all sounds like the start of a bad joke.
McKennie spent the second half of last season on loan at Leeds United with the expectation of staying longer. Instead, his introduction to the Premier League was a disaster, marred by accusations by fans that he wasn’t fit and wasn’t making an effort. Suddenly, ranch dressing was no longer just a personality quirk. It was a symptom of the problem that was dragging down the club.
“I feel like I let people down,” he says now.
– Stream on ESPN+: NWSL, LaLiga, Bundesliga, more (U.S.)
At the time, Leeds appeared to be building America’s Team. The investment arm of the NFL’s San Francisco 49ers was set to complete a purchase of the historic club and market it across the Atlantic. Manager Jesse Marsch — of Racine, Wisconsin, and D.C. United — had signed two of McKennie’s U.S. teammates, Tyler Adams and Brenden Aaronson. (They joined Englishman Jack Harrison, who attended high school in Massachusetts and played college soccer at Wake Forest.)
McKennie, who started his career at Schalke 04 and moved to Juventus in 2020, was seen as the missing piece, a tireless box-to-box midfielder who would provide a touch of Champions League quality.
Except … none of it happened. Marsch was fired in February 2023, after McKennie had played one game for him. The sale was postponed, though the 49ers eventually acquired the team at a reduced price. After three seasons in the Premier League, Leeds was relegated. “Because they signed half the U.S. national team, who weren’t very good,” Darragh MacAnthony, the owner of Peterborough, said in a radio interview.
Fairly or not, McKennie bore much of the blame. A player who prides himself on his work rate, he appeared sluggish. In more than 1,400 minutes over 20 games, he managed just one assist. He had broken a foot the previous February. That healed, but his form hadn’t recovered. “He wasn’t playing like himself,” Aaronson says. “He had a lot of expectations coming in, and that just took its toll on the pitch.”
McKennie is deeply involved in fashion and music. He has a real estate business with his brother in Dallas. When his career ends, he says, he could imagine doing something in one of those areas, or maybe becoming an agent, or even a broadcaster, though in that case he’d probably have to watch games. “I enjoy playing football. I want to go as far as I can,” he says. “But honestly, if my career ended tomorrow, I would be happy. And I wouldn’t have regrets for anything that I’ve done.”
At 25, McKennie believes he has plenty of football ahead of him. First comes this summer’s Copa América, which he believes the U.S. can win. “Maybe people don’t look at us against Argentina or Brazil and say, ‘Wow, look at the USA,'” he says. “But that’s why Gregg is so important. Because, yeah, a team can have a lot of individual talent, but when you have a team that has quality and potential and will sacrifice everything for each other, that will make a difference.”
He even fantasizes about that happening at the next level. “Do I believe that we can win the World Cup? Very slim chances,” he admits. “But it’s, what, eight games? If you can catch fire for those eight games, it can happen. The grit, the desire, a little bit of luck as well — that’s what it takes in a football game. That’s the beauty about it. Anybody can be beaten on any given day.”
McKennie’s contract with Juventus is up after next season. Negotiations are ongoing, but his ongoing yearning for the next challenge may lead him to agree to a transfer, especially if it involves the unfinished business of proving himself in the Premier League. At the same time, he’s more than content in Turin. He lives in a house on a hill outside the city that he rents from a wealthy doctor. He eats at La Lampara, where they nod when he covers his pizza with creamy dressing. And inside and outside the club, his stock keeps rising.
The food has just arrived when a young woman approaches his table and begs for a picture. Peeking out from behind her is the manager, Fabrizio. He has a guilty look, as if he knows he should be letting McKennie eat in peace. But what can he do? She won’t be denied.
Fabrizio shrugs. “Her favorite player,” he says.
