Submitted photo Juniata Christian forward Julian Flores de Valgaz holds the NCSAA banner as 2025 Player of the Year.

MCALISTERILLE — The ball left his foot with a quiet certainty. It curved toward the far post, caught the edge of the net, and settled there as if it had been waiting. On the small field behind Juniata Christian School, moments like that happened often enough to feel routine. What no one realized at the time was that they were watching the best small-school soccer player in the country refine his craft in near silence.

On most afternoons in McAlisterville, the air turns still once practice ends. The field sits empty except for a few scattered balls, the marks of another day’s work. Somewhere nearby, a single player stays behind a little longer, replaying the details in his head: where his first touch landed, how cleanly the ball left his foot, whether the shot bent as he intended. That’s how Julian Flores de Valgaz spends his time, not chasing drills but chasing precision, one repetition at a time.

There is nothing grand about the setting, no scoreboard lights, no college recruiters lined along the touchline, but this is where the NCSAA 2025-26 Boys’ Fall Varsity Soccer Small School National Player of the Year was built. And when Julian heard his name attached to that title, the surprise was as real as the sweat on those long afternoons.

“I was shocked,” he said. “Especially hearing how many people were in consideration for it, that made it even more special to me. I didn’t know what to think, but the first people that came to mind were definitely my parents and the soccer team. Both have always supported me and encouraged me to become better on and off the field.”

The award itself came from the National Christian School Athletic Association, which oversees more than 550 member schools. After months of comparison and voting, one player rose to the top: a junior forward from a small Pennsylvania campus with 45 goals, 19 assists, and a reputation for relentless effort. That résumé, added to the 68 career goals and 28 assists he has already stacked, would stand out anywhere. It shines brighter because of where it happened.

At Juniata Christian, soccer is part of a rhythm that includes chapel, classes, and small-town life. Julian has grown up inside that rhythm. “It means a lot,” he said. “I love and appreciate this school that I get to go to play sports, be with friends and learn more about God. Some of my favorite memories are at this school. It’s a special place for me, and I’m honored to represent it and, of course, represent God.”

He says it without polish, as if the words have been thought through rather than written to impress. That humility is part of why this story fits him. Juniata Christian doesn’t seek attention. It builds character in the quiet. For Julian, the quiet became fuel.

“I would say my finishing definitely grew this year,” he explained. “I scored about double the amount of goals I made last year. Many things went into helping me make that jump, but some major ones would definitely be having my teammates to help me and assist me, and lots of practice, improving my shooting and my speed so I would have those opportunities to score more easily.”

He mentions “practice” with the reverence of someone who understands repetition as faith in motion. You don’t double your goals because of luck. You double them because your right foot is sore from a thousand touches no one saw.

To those who haven’t watched him, Julian offers a simple scouting report. “I’m not a very footwork-based player,” he said. “Though I definitely have some footwork skills. What you will see is that I’m a very fast and hardworking player. I’ll play with all my heart until the very end.” He pauses, then adds what matters most to him: “I take pride in how I never give up and always play with all my heart, also my sportsmanship on the field. That is something very important to me. I try to set a good example for my teammates and even the opposing players. I try to show everyone the same love that God shows us.”

That last line could hang on the locker-room wall without alteration. It’s the credo of a player who sees the game as a language for character, not a stage for celebration. Watching him sprint to chase down a defender with two steps on him, you understand that sentence was earned.

The numbers still matter. Forty-five goals cannot happen without precision, and nineteen assists reveal more than scoring instinct. They show vision, timing, and an understanding that a great forward sometimes disappears into the play so someone else can finish. That awareness gives a small-school offense the shape of something larger.

When the NCSAA notice arrived, it called the selection “a huge accomplishment.” For most high-school athletes, such a phrase signals the high-water mark. For Julian, it sounded like an invitation to keep going. “This recognition encourages me to keep improving and becoming a better player and person overall,” he said. “I hope with this recognition I can also encourage my teammates next year and hopefully, if I am blessed enough to play in college, help and encourage my teammates there as well.”

That future remains unwritten. He has another year of high-school soccer left, another season to test what improvement looks like after national recognition. The danger in such honors is that they freeze a player in place; turn him into the story he just finished. But Julian sounds uninterested in being frozen. His talk of faith and teammates suggests momentum, not satisfaction.

What’s striking is how naturally that perspective fits the surrounding geography. McAlisterville is not the kind of town that inflates people. It lets them grow at their own pace. Drive past the school in the fall, and you might see him running drills with a few teammates, no fanfare, just the thud of the ball echoing off the building. That’s where the award started, on ordinary afternoons that don’t feel like history until someone tallies the goals.

Great seasons often seem smaller when you’re living them; the beauty of sport hides in the repetitions no one applauds. Julian Flores de Valgaz seems to understand that instinctively. He plays the game as if every sprint is its own reward.

The NCSAA will send a patch to commemorate the title. It will probably hang in the school gym or somewhere near the team photo. It will mean a great deal to his family, his coaches, and the friends who passed him the ball. But the real symbol might still be the empty field at dusk, where he stays a few minutes longer, lining up another shot into the fading light.

He doesn’t linger for applause. He lingers because he still enjoys the sound of the ball striking cleanly, because he knows the next one could always be better. And maybe that’s why this award found him here, on a quiet field in Juniata County, where excellence still feels like devotion, and a player’s greatest strength is the part no one sees.

Soccer will begin again before you know it, and there will be that same young man, still running, still smiling, still trying to show the world that faith can move mountains and greatness can begin anywhere.