2005-02-26 - 11:32 a.m.

Five months ago at the end of training I made a list of things I hoped to accomplish in my first year. They were not grandiose by any means. The largest were: find a good host family, get work started, and become well integrated. There were additionally a few small aspirations I added at the end. Some of them were more personal than others, which I dare not delve into right now. However, on that list there was a line that read, “Join a local Soccer team.” For my first 4 months at site I was presented with a few opportunities to fulfil this goal, but I strayed away from them citing an overload in work as excuse.

My work at the Girl’s Center has reached a fever pitch. In the last few weeks I have been doing a set of girl power lessons to show that girls are just as capable of doing “boy work” as boys are. Before leaving for vacation I showed them how to use a hammer and saw. Together we built a bench to replace the old one at the center. There is one girl that has been a big help in all of this. Her name is Isseta. She has been a Girl’s Center girl for two years already, and now acts as an assistant. I was talking to her about my desire to play in Atar, and she informed me her brother was a member of a local team. She would send him over that evening. Later that night he told me he would be leaving town, but would send the captain of the team to pick me up for practice at 5. With some hesitation I agreed.

In High School I had always been a decent player. I was no hotshot Ross Richart or Ben Robie (heck I wasn’t even a Kent Ralston), but I played my position and I played it well. My saving grace has always been my speed. Being a defender, most people assume you’re a slow runner. I just loved it when some fleet footed forward would try to blaze past me on the field. I would quickly pass him, beating him to the ball. However, any possible aspirations of a World Cup match in my future were crushed the year after High School. I spent it in France as an exchange student. My host father signed me up to play on the best team in town. Not only were my handling and shooting skills not up to par, but I quickly found that my former quickness was not so outstanding. I was still fast, but 5 people on the team were faster still. I could hold my own as a defender, but as a foreign player, just ok wasn’t enough. I continued to play with the team for 2 months, but gave it up feeling excluded from the group.

Going into my first practice in Atar, I slightly expected a repeat of my French experience. I was somewhat relieved on the way to the field after my conversation with Mammadou, the team captain. “We aren’t professional soccer players,” he told me. “We are plumbers, masons and gardeners. We just love to play soccer, and we only want to have a good time.” He took the words from my mouth. I know I’m not that good, but I still love to play.

Our training field was in chaos upon arrival. Over 10 teams were training there. Mommadou directed me to the one shooting on goal at the northern end. I was introduced around, and then was asked to take a few shots on goal. I’d like to say I wowed the team with three sweet shots directly to the right hand corner, but they were all centered and blocked by the goalie. (Hey at least I didn’t shoot over the goal). Afterwards, a group from one of the other teams approached us and asked if we could lend them some players for a scrimmage. Mammadou agreed, and picked 5 players and me. The other team began yelling about how they didn’t want me, and that he had to pick someone else. Mammadou and the others refused and told them if they didn’t want to play with me, then they could find another team to lend them players. Afterward, I thanked Mammadou and told him that it wasn’t necessary for him to have stood up for me like that. I’m pretty used to the daily dosages of discrimination. He said, “No, it was necessary. They need to know from the beginning that you are a member of our team. The next time they will know better, and won’t think twice about letting you play.”

We moved off to an area outside the stadium and played some 5 on 5. I was amazed at their ability to play as a team. In France nearly everyone thinks they are the next Zidane, and pass the ball only on the rarest of occasions. My team in Atar works together. They form triangles and keep the ball moving. Quick touches and quick passing is the best way to keep the ball in your possession, and they know it.

It has been three weeks on the team now, and I love it. I’m back at my old position, Left Fullback. We have played two games together and have won both. My mistakes have been minor, and though, I am far from the being the best player on the team, nobody seems to mind. They are all out to have a good time.

previous - next