The Stadium Isn't Where the Name Says
A surprising number of famous clubs play their home games somewhere other than the place on the badge.
There's a claim made in passing on a couple of other pages here — that plenty of clubs don't play anywhere near the place they're named after — and it's worth actually backing up, because it's the single most useful thing to understand if you're trying to put a pin on a map accurately.
The instinct when a badge says Dallas is to click on Dallas. That instinct is wrong often enough to cost you real points. Here's the shape of how it goes wrong.
The club moved to the suburbs
This is far and away the most common case, and it's almost entirely an American phenomenon. A team keeps the name of the big city it's associated with, because that's the brand and that's where the fans are, but the actual building went up somewhere cheaper with room for parking.
The Dallas Cowboys play in Arlington, about 30 km west of downtown Dallas. The Atlanta Braves left downtown Atlanta and now play at Truist Park in Cumberland, out in the northwest suburbs. The Buffalo Bills are in Orchard Park. The Washington Commanders are in Landover, Maryland — a different state from the city on the badge. The Las Vegas Raiders play in Paradise, Nevada, which is the unincorporated township where most of the Strip actually sits, despite everyone on Earth calling it Las Vegas.
New England is the honest one. The Patriots don't claim a city at all — they claim a region, and they play in Foxborough, roughly halfway between Boston and Providence. Naming yourself after six states is one way of never being wrong.
For guessing purposes the error here is usually 20–40 km, which on the scoring curve is nearly free. It's worth knowing about, but it isn't what wrecks a round.
Two clubs, one building, neither of them at home
The version that actually costs you is when the stadium isn't just outside the city but across a state line.
The New York Jets and the New York Giants both play at MetLife Stadium in East Rutherford, New Jersey. Two teams called New York, one building, and it's not in New York. If you click Manhattan for either of them you're about 15 km out, which is survivable — but the conceptual point matters more than the distance, because it tells you the name on a badge is a marketing decision rather than a geographic fact.
Los Angeles does the same thing twice over. The Chargers and the Rams share SoFi Stadium in Inglewood. And the New York Yankees are in the Bronx — technically New York City, but if your mental image of "New York" is midtown, you're already drifting.
The European version: the commune next door
Europe has the same problem for entirely different reasons. Land inside old city boundaries is expensive and largely already built on, so when a club needed a modern ground in the last few decades it usually got built in an adjacent commune or municipality — while the club kept its historic name.
The French examples are the cleanest. Lille play at the Stade Pierre-Mauroy, which is in Villeneuve-d'Ascq, a separate commune east of the city. Olympique Lyonnais play at the Parc Olympique Lyonnais in Décines-Charpieu, out to the east of Lyon. Neither club is being deceptive; the grounds are just outside the city limits in a way that a map notices and a fan doesn't.
Germany has cases where the club name never referred to a big city in the first place. Schalke — the "04" is the founding year — play in Gelsenkirchen, and Schalke is a district of that city rather than a town in its own right. Hoffenheim are stranger still: Hoffenheim is a village, and the club play at the PreZero Arena in Sinsheim, the nearest town of any size. A club named after a village, playing in a different town, in a top division. If you're hunting for the village on a map you'll be looking a long time.
Spain has the district case too. Rayo Vallecano are named for Vallecas, which is a working-class district of Madrid rather than a separate town — so the club is in Madrid, but a specific and quite distinct part of it.
The one that genuinely isn't in the country you think
AS Monaco play in France's top division. They do not play in France. The Stade Louis II is in Fontvieille, a district of the Principality of Monaco — a separate sovereign state that happens to enter a team into its neighbour's league.
This is the only case in this guide where getting it wrong is a country-level error rather than a suburb-level one, and country-level errors are the expensive kind. Though in Monaco's defence, it's a small enough country that clicking the French Riviera gets you most of the points anyway.
The London problem, which is the opposite problem
Worth flagging the inverse case, because it trips people the other way. English clubs are very often named after a district rather than the city: Arsenal, Chelsea, Fulham, Crystal Palace and Tottenham Hotspur are all London clubs whose names give you no help at all in finding London if you didn't already know.
Here the name is more precise than you need, not less. The trap isn't ending up in the wrong city — it's not recognising that a badge saying "Fulham" is a badge saying "London."
So what do you actually do with this
Three things worth taking away:
- Suburb errors are cheap; country errors are not. Being 30 km out because a club plays in Arlington rather than Dallas costs you almost nothing. Putting Monaco in France costs more. Spend your attention on the country, not the postcode — the scoring curve is unambiguous about this.
- American teams claim metros, European teams claim their actual location. If a US badge names a big city, aim for the metro area and don't fuss. If a European badge names a small place you've never heard of, it probably genuinely is that small place.
- A name is a brand, not a coordinate. The moment you stop reading badges as addresses, the whole category of error stops being surprising.
If you'd rather work on what the badge itself tells you, reading a badge covers the visual clues. And one building, two teams deals with the related oddity of venues that house more than one club.
Theory's over.