Hello again,
On March 8th, when 12 Mayan youths stepped onto the soccer field at Monte Bello, even the chatter of the children stopped. Our Maya Jaguar boys sported white jerseys, black shorts, and white stockings. Their black hair, cut short, and glistening in the sunlight, gave the final professional touch to their handsome black and white appearance. No other team at this regional soccer tournament presented themselves so proudly or so well turned out.
Appearance aside, how would our boys do, I asked myself, given that they had had no time to prepare. The Mayan Center had received an invitation to participate in the tournament only four days earlier; in the following days it rained ceaselessly, making it impossible to practice. The second challenge– team members came from many different villages, spoke five different languages, and each one had no way of knowing the style or strategy that the others used.
To be honest, I am best a lukewarm sports enthusiast, but today for the first time in my life, all that changed. I stood there under the cloudless blue sky, as the soft breeze rustled the trees leaves. The mountains, with their new multi-colored spring tree growth adorned the hillsides. In this beautiful place of nature, I looked at the eager and expectant group of kids and all I wanted was to see them WIN!
But as the opposing team stepped onto the field, it became clear that the odds were stacked against our students. They were to play against a group of well-muscled men from a seasoned soccer team.
I felt people jostling behind me. Curious, I turned around to see that onlookers had left their comfortable places on the grass and began ringing the edge of the soccer field. I heard voices murmuring, “Maya Jaguar, Maya Jaguar.” “How strange, I thought, nobody knows anything about us, but they are repeating our name.” It quickly became evident that they were rooting for our team! We were the unknown dark horse and they were betting on the unknown.
Until this day, I had had no idea of the high level of skill it takes to play soccer well. As the game began, I was astounded with the agility and lightening fast speed of the players. They performed such feats such as twisting a leg behind and unexpectedly kicking the ball high in the air and with amazing accuracy. At one point, the team captain, Gaspar, shot off
the ground like a human cannon ball, his head batting the ball with tremendous force across the field. Manuel, normally our most playful and fun-loving student, turned deadly serious in his offensive moves, blocking, running, kicking the ball. Without a doubt, he caught the other team off guard with his rapid twists and turns.
And then it happened! I held my breath. Antonio, our quiet and solemn boy postioned himself. Everyone grew silent–the crowd, the opposing team, our kids. Then–GOAL! Our spectator students (me, too) screamed, “Maya Jaguar! Maya Jaguar! Va a ganar, va a ganar. (Maya Jaguar, Maya Jaguar, is going to win, is going to win).
They had pulled it off! Twelve students from as many villages, from different language groups and cultural norms, had formed a true unity through their beloved game of soccer!
What a proud day for the Maya Jaguar Center. And for them.
Frances