A Truly Beautiful Game

The concept is easy.

You need players, an object to kick and something to use as goals.  The object doesn’t need to be a ball, but could be a tin can, rolled up rags or a plastic bag stuffed with newspapers.  And the goals?  Maybe piles of rocks, old shoes or a couple of old shirts.  You don’t need a new Adidas Jabulani ball, artificial turf and a pair of bright $400 cleats because you can go barefoot with a homemade “ball” on untended dirt fields.  Score more goals than the other team, and you win. 

Many in America find themselves annoyed by the game, including our SixSeeds teammates and dear friends Nathan Whitaker and Tom Walsh.  And, two weeks into the World Cup, I can understand why.  Yes – there are comical dramatic flops and theatrical writhing.  Yes –  scoring is a rarity and the officials miss hand balls, and call back goals on phantom fouls.  And yes, a team often works the ball methodically backfield to eventually move it forward (isn’t that a great lesson for us all?). But those who complain about the details, may not fully appreciate the simplicity, beauty and unity that is soccer.

Years ago, when our family first traveled to Mexico, our goal was to “clean up” an elementary school located in the middle of a squatter community in the valleys of Tijuana.  We wanted to help, but most importantly we wanted to become friends with the Las Palmas community – hoping we’d be back year over year to visit, help where we could, and play with our new friends. 

We didn’t have much grasp of the Spanish language, so we said our “holas”, smiled and nodded to each other and got down to business.  We hauled furniture, cleaned, scraped, painted and landscaped.  But we became “amigos” when the soccer ball dropped, and the hard, dusty field (without a blade of grass in sight!) became our “meeting ground”.  The adults played with the kids and teenagers, and those on the sidelines laughed, clapped and cheered.  The game was the “glue” -- bigger than us, and all our fractured efforts to communicate across language and culture barriers.  Over the last years, soccer’s become an integral part of what our families do together.  

Grant Wahl of Sports Illustrated writes:

Man United.  More than the name of the world’s most popular team, it’s a description of the state of the planet beginning on June 11.  For one month in South Africa, as 32 national teams compete in the World Cup, vast portions of the globe’s six billion people will be bound in an all-consuming passion for soccer.  At its most basic level – a handful of kids kicking what passes for a ball around whatever open ground they find – the game is a source of joy, sometimes a means of escape.  At its pinnacle it defines nations and dissolves differences.  In short, this simplest of games unites humankind like nothing else.

Beyond our Mexico trips, we’ve experienced this multiple times.  We hosted a British soccer player and coach for several months last year, and, notwithstanding many differences in culture, experience and age, when our boys and girls joined him on the backyard field, we were on the same page.  In a similar vein, I’ve seen my husband play intramural soccer in college on teams comprised of Greeks, Italians, Russians, and Nigerians, and in impromptu sandlot games in various cities, joining Brazilians, Portuguese, or Kenyans.  In these games – everyone speaks the common tongue of community, camaraderie… and fun!

And recently, in our small town in Massachusetts -- soccer emerged as a unifying force for Haitian teenage boys adopted by our neighbors.  The older boy, Ephesien, began his freshman year following a decade in a Port au Prince orphanage after his mother passed away.  Even without grasp of English, “Ephesien was able to bond with classmates right away through a mutual love of soccer.”

But perhaps most important is soccer’s transcendence.  It can heal the hurts of nations, wounded national pride – or symbolize the progress of peoples.  For example, when the great Nelson Mandela found out his country of South Africa would host the 2010 World Cup six years ago, he “could not hold back his tears, and they fell freely down his cheeks.”  “I feel like a young man of 15”, Mandela said to laughter. 

But maybe after Wednesday’s win over Algeria, all this philosophizing about soccer’s worthiness is less necessary.

With about 2 minutes remaining after over 90 minutes of scoreless, anxiety-filled, heart-wrenching, never-give-up gutsy play, USA’s Landon Donovan scored on a quick counter attack for the most dramatic of finishes.  With that remarkable lone goal, USA saved themselves from elimination.  Donovan slid belly-down across the turf as his teammates pig-piled on top.  Screaming USA fans painted red, white and blue and waving flags, broke down security barriers, dashed onto the field and celebrated.  Striker Joze Altidore jumped a fence into a mosh pit of ecstatic admirers.  President Clinton visited the team in their locker room, expressing his gratitude and pride. Bars across the US were filled with cheering fans while office workers were glued to TVs.  Facebook pages lit up with multiple “USA, USA!” posts. 

Just before noon EST on June 23^rd, we stood united.

In that spirit, as the USA and 15 of the best teams fight for their place in World Cup history for two more weeks  – I ask my fellow Americans to curb the complaint and sarcasm and instead, toot vuvuzela horns with the world and stay open to this most beautiful game – for if you allow it to take hold, it’s effect may surprise you.