On a cold winter window, when she walked away from Budapest Honvéd FC, it wasn’t rebellion. It wasn’t revenge. It was forward motion.
Sydney Koszo is young enough to still be labeled “promising,” yet self-aware enough to speak like someone already carrying expectation on her shoulders. Gratitude colors her reflections on Honvéd – but so does clarity.
“I’m always thinking ahead,” she says. “I’m so grateful for my time there, but it was time to move on so I can continue my journey forward.”
For Koszo, leaving wasn’t about escape. It was about evolution.
Pressure Is a Privilege
At 16 years old, Sydney Koszo packed her life into a suitcase and moved to Hungary – alone.
New country.
New league.
A language she didn’t speak.
A professional contract most players only dream about.
“It was a learning experience,” she says, choosing grace over detail.
What she doesn’t say dramatically – but lives fully – is that most teenagers were planning dances and weekend plans at 16.
“I didn’t know Hungarian. Not even a little,” she laughs. “If you want to survive in a locker room, you learn fast.”
So she did.
Three years later, she speaks Hungarian fluently – one of the most complex languages in Europe. She did it while playing professionally. While finishing American high school online. Morning trainings in Hungarian. Evening U.S. classes on Zoom in English.
“It was chaotic,” she admits. “But I’ve always been thinking ahead.”
That sentence – thinking ahead – might define her more than anything else.
She doesn’t just react.
She prepares.
She builds.
Built Different
Before Europe, Koszo trained at IMG Academy – the elite Florida institution built for athletes chasing big dreams.
“At IMG, everyone wants to be great,” she says. “It’s normal there. Discipline is normal.”
That foundation shows.
American optimism. European grit. Relentless standards.
“I’m a perfectionist,” she says. “I want to perform at 100 percent. Not for other people. For myself and my team.”
That’s not ego.
That’s ownership.
Growth Through Discomfort
Her development at Budapest Honvéd FC under Balázs Dörnyei sharpened her tactical mind.
“My game intelligence has definitely improved,” she says. “He made me learn multiple positions and their demands.”
Dörnyei challenged her daily.
“In football, there really is no such thing as being uncomfortable,” she says firmly. “There is only learning. Whether the challenge was tactical or mental – whether it felt positive or negative in the moment – it made me stronger. I’ll always be grateful to him for that.”
Now at Szekszárdi WFC, Koszo plays under Attila Vágó – the most successful coach in the history of the Hungarian women’s national team.
The welcome was immediate. Affirming.
“He told me I can become something great,” she says. “He’s giving me the opportunity to take on a leadership role and contribute in a way that helps the team stay in NB1.”
Where Dörnyei sharpened her tactical mind, Vágó fuels her belief and determination. If she could fuse their leadership styles? She wouldn’t hesitate: tactical detail from one, relentless will from the other.
That blend sounds suspiciously like her own emerging identity.
The Owner’s Daughter
There’s no way around it. Sydney Koszo carries a last name that echoes beyond the pitch.
At Szekszárd, she isn’t just a standout player – she’s the owner’s daughter.
To some, that equals privilege. To her, it equals responsibility.
“Yes, I’m the owner’s daughter,” she says plainly. “But that makes me no different than anyone else. I’ve worked my whole life to become the player I am.”
She doesn’t deny the pressure. She reframes it.
“It motivates me,” she says. “Pressure is a privilege.”
The whispers? She’s heard them.
The assumption that minutes are gifted. That doors opened easier. That her journey has been softer.
“My performance shows everything,” she says. “I don’t get playing time because of my last name. I get it because of what I show in each session and match.”
That’s American mindset. Direct. Unapologetic.
“If I doubt myself before I step on the pitch, I’ve already lost,” she says. “If people doubt me, that doesn’t affect me.”
And then she says something most athletes are afraid to admit:
“To be honest, I like when people tell me I can’t do something. When I know I can.”
That’s not arrogance.
That’s competitive fire.
Two Flags. One Standard.
Koszo is a dual citizen. She has represented Hungary at U17 and U19 level – wearing the badge with pride. But her name has also surfaced in conversations within U.S. youth national team circles.
“It’s hard. I’ve played for Hungary at U17 and U19. That means something. But I’m also American. If I could honor both countries, I would.”
Is it emotion? Opportunity? Level of competition?
“It’s identity. It’s about where you feel you belong – and where you believe you can grow. Choosing Hungary could mean becoming a central figure in building something.
Choosing the United States could mean fighting for playtime in a global powerhouse.”
Would she rather compete in the deepest pool in the world – or be one of the pillars of a rising program? Koszo doesn’t dodge.
“I want the highest level possible. But I also want impact. That balance matters. It’s not just a football decision. It’s a career-defining one.”
Hungary shaped her professional growth.
America shaped her mindset.
Not comfort.
Not safety.
Greatness.
Mentorship Matters
When Abby Wambach invested in her journey, it changed everything.
“She helped me understand what it really takes. Mentally. Professionally.”
As Koszo navigated new opportunities, Wambach stood beside her – championing her character, her work ethic, and her potential.
“That meant everything,” she says. “When someone like Abby believes in you, you don’t forget that.”
Confidence.
Accountability.
Big vision.
That’s the standard now.
“She helped me become the player I am today.”
Tears and Targets
The last time football made her cry?
“Frustration.” she admits. “I have a constant drive to play at my very best.”
She’s still young. Still learning.
“But I’m learning to accept that I can’t always be perfect.”
Yet perfection is still the aim.
Is Szekszárd the destination?
“For my career, it’s a stepping stone,” she says honestly. “I want to give everything while I’m here. ”
And the ceiling?
“I want to eventually be considered one of the top European players.”
No hesitation.
No apology.
Five Years From Now
If we write about Sydney Koszo in five years, what headline does she want to read?
She smiles.
“I became the player I once dreamed of being – and proved to myself that it was possible.”
Not the owner’s daughter.
Not the dual-citizen debate.
Not the girl who moved alone at 16 without speaking Hungarian.
Just the player.
And if there’s one thing Sydney Koszo makes clear, it’s this:
She’s not waiting for permission.
She’s building it.
