Wonderkid — frequently asked questions

Wonderkid is a soccer life simulator for mobile. You live a soccer player's whole life one year per tap — born somewhere real to a family with real jobs, spotted or not, signed or not, through a career and into retirement, death, and the child who carries the name. Every number is simulated rather than scripted.

Yes. Free to play, with one optional unlock bought once and owned forever. There is no subscription, no energy timer and nothing that lets you pay to skip a year. The whole simulation runs on your phone, so there is no server cost to pass on to you.

There is no public date yet. The game is in closed testing with a small group of players, and it ships when it is right rather than on a date announced before it was finished. Everyone on the early-access list hears first, and gets in first.

Android first, then iOS. It is written in Flutter, so the phone builds come from the same codebase as the browser build the closed test runs on — the mobile release is a build target, not a rewrite.

Completely. All 609 event cards ship inside the app and every outcome is decided on your device. Nothing is generated by a server while you play, which is why there is no loading pause between years and nothing to keep paying for.

The one-tap-per-year loop is deliberately familiar. Everything underneath it is built for one subject: 1,055 clubs across 36 countries and 91 divisions, fifteen attributes rolled into a position-weighted Overall, wages that scale exponentially with ability, real transfer and loan logic, and three named rivals who age alongside you. There is a longer comparison on the games like BitLife page.

In some countries yes, and the split is deliberate. Twenty-one countries carry their real club names and crests — 950 of the 1,055 clubs — used to identify the club and nothing more: Wonderkid is independent and is not affiliated with, sponsored by or endorsed by any of them. Everywhere else the clubs are invented and named city plus color: Manchester Blue, Turin Black & White, Rio Red & Black.

No. Every soccer player, coach, agent and storyline in the game is invented, including your own rivals — they are generated per save, they age and retire alongside you, and none of them is modeled on a living person. Any resemblance is coincidental.

Yes, and most of the time it doesn't happen. Playing without a plan, 27.1% of lives never turn professional at all and most peak in the lower divisions. Training every year and taking the ambitious option cuts that to 10.8% and more than doubles your chance of reaching a five-star club, from 12.7% to 28%. The gap between those two ways of playing is the game — the measurements are published in full.

You get a legacy score and tier, your honors, your net worth and where you rank in your generation. Then you can continue the bloodline as one of your children — raised wherever your career happened to finish, carrying your passports and your city and none of your ability. You can also take a child over mid-life, while you are still playing.

Not in the first version. Player careers are the whole of it at launch; managing is a later free update rather than a paid expansion.

Four things: an invite in the first wave before any public launch, your username held for you permanently on the live game, a direct line into what gets built next, and founder standing when the finished game ships. One email when the gate opens — nothing else, and no resale of your address ever.

Only offline, and only for prose. The engine owns every number; the writing only ever describes what the engine already decided. Cards are generated in batches, curated by hand and shipped inside the app. No language model is ever called while you play — that would add latency, break offline play, and hand outcome decisions to something non-deterministic after we spent months measuring the balance.

Your email, first and last name and your chosen username, stored in the game's own database so your place can be matched to a real account on launch day. Your IP address is stored only as a salted hash, to spot one machine filling the form a hundred times. Ask us and the row gets deleted.